Obviously I didn’t need to shoot right in front of the Morningside Valley Vet Clinic. There are plenty of great, small town backdrops here, but the vet clinic has that great pitched roof with the hills in the background. Also, Jessa.

Obviously Jessa. Yes, one hundred percent I went there to “bump into” her. I’ve been a man starving these last three years not having her in my life, not seeing her beautiful face or hearing her sweet voice. Instead of killing me, though, it’s made me work so much harder. Jessa has been my driving force all along.

But did she have to be wearing that tight white tank top this morning? It made me realize that I definitely need to reacquaint myself with her body. Her breasts were really testing the strength of the fabric—all I wanted to do was pull her aside and close my mouth around her nipple.

I knew it would be hard seeing her but I didn’t think it’d turn my mind upside down. Coming back to town, I wanted to accomplish two things: shoot some footage, but most importantly—see if Jessa and I still had that spark.

First glance this morning and I knew without a hint of hesitation that I wanted her.

Spark? It was a fucking bonfire.

But she was so cold to me that maybe…. No. I know Jessa hasn’t forgotten me. She’s pissed, I get that. But there’s been no sign of her having a boyfriend, moving on. I kept track from afar and there was never anyone serious.

I know I haven’t moved on, that’s for sure.

The rest of the day was a true test to my concentration and professionalism. Now Melissa, the producer, and Silvio, the director, want to go over the shoot so far and what we have left to do before we can get out of town.

I’m sitting at the swankiest bar in town, which means there are no peanut shells on the floor. I’m sipping on the twelve-year-old scotch the bartender dusted off for me and thinking about her, and the things she said to me.

I’d hoped she’d give a warmer welcome but I suppose I can’t blame her. In her mind I just left, but she doesn’t know the whole story.

What got under my skin was the way Jessa talked to me like I was some poser, like I didn’t know what it was like to live here, to work here. I know all too well—it’s why I left. Well, that and a few other things. Morningside Valley sucks the dreams out of people.

I should know. If I hadn’t gotten the hell out when I did, I’d still be plowing the fields of my father’s farm while he sucked on a bottle of Wild Turkey.

Of course, Morningside Valley is beautiful, but so is New York City. So is Los Angeles, San Francisco, Berlin, Barcelona. I’ve been all around the world and seen for myself that, despite what the locals around here say, beauty isn’t confined to this little town.

I can’t think of beauty without thinking of Jessa. I first met her at the clinic when I brought one of the animals after he twisted his ankle in a hole. The way she moved, the way she spoke, the way her eyes looked into mine. I was floored. I’ll never forget the first time she touched me. I was so tongue-tied being around her, like a damn schoolboy, that she’d thought I was worried about the animal. She touched my forearm and said, “Don’t worry, Cole. Everything will be fine.”

In that moment I knew it was true—everything would be fine as long as I was near her.

The only problem? I had a shit life. Back then, I had nothing but callouses on my hands and dirt in my pockets.

I wanted out. Out of town, out of this life. But I knew that if I stayed with Jessa, I’d never leave. I asked her to go with me but she said no. And that was that. I didn’t blame her, even though I couldn’t understand why she’d want to stay in a place like this.

I shoot back the rest of the scotch. Melissa and Silvio are late but it doesn’t matter. With Jessa on my mind, I couldn’t concentrate if a bull were charging straight for me.

Fuck it, I think. I throw some money down on the bar, snatch my keys, and bail.

If I’m here to see Jessa, what the hell am I doing sitting in a bar? I punch the gas and take off down the dusty road.

When I step up on her small front porch and knock on her door, my hands are a bit sweaty. I rub my palms down the front of my jeans which, by the way, are not dry cleaned.

I’m not here to try to get back in her pants.

Well, that’s what I’m telling myself. I’ve had her before—Jesus, it was the most incredible night of my life—but I always worried I was too rough with her. A fucking sexual deviant, devouring her body. She’s better than that—sweeter. She needs someone who will be gentle with her, go slow, treat her carefully. Not some rough bastard like me who dominated her and ate up every ounce of her. Fuck.

The door opens, and there she is, still in that damn white tank that clings to her every curve. She’s also changed into a pair of shorts, and my eyes can’t help but rake over the length of her body. My dick responds in kind, instantly getting hard, as I picture myself plunging into her tight, wet pussy.

Fuck. I need to get my head on straight and stop thinking about the past, stop thinking with my cock.

“What are you doing here?” Jessa says, her tone bit harsh.

“I just wanted to talk to you. I know earlier things were a little hectic, with the film crew and all.”

She pulls the door behind her so she’s standing between me and the entrance.

“You can’t be here,” she says. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I’m not a vampire,” I say.

She raises an eyebrow and doesn’t need to even say the words. I know she’s thinking that I might as well be.

I sigh. “I just want to talk. Just for a minute.”

She looks over her shoulder like she’s looking at something inside. It makes my temperature rise.

“Got a guest in there or something?” I say, the thought of another man in there with her, and her looking so sexy, makes me want to push through the door and throw out whoever it might be.

“No,” she begins. “Look, I don’t want you here, okay?”

“Come on, Jessa.” I give her my old smile, the one that used to melt her.

When she doesn’t say anything—but I can tell she’s thinking—I cock my head to the side and say, “Five minutes?” I take a step closer. “I promise, I’ll be quick—if you want me to be.”

“No,” she says, and she’s firm. “You can’t come in.”

Dang, what did I expect? I left without a word and I thought for a second that she might be waiting around for me to make my triumphant return? No, but still. I won’t give up. It’s not in me to do so. But before I can press my case she says, “We’ll go out somewhere to talk. Wait here and I’ll grab my shoes.”

She slams the door shut, and I have a moment to feel elated. A bit confused, but happy for sure.

She’s back quickly with a pair of flip-flops and two bottles of beer.

“Those for you or us?” I tease as we walk to the truck.

“It was a rough day,” she says. “Be nice and I’ll give you one.”

If it were up to me, I would be so naughty to her and that body of hers that is so fine walking toward my truck. But I have to refrain myself.

“This thing?” she says, pointing to the truck with one of the beers. “I can’t believe you didn’t ditch it for a Rolls or something.”

“This is a great truck,” I say. “Traveled hundreds of miles through the fields on Dad’s farm, out to the lake for fishing. I love this truck.” Plus, admittedly, it’s got some pretty great memories from time spent with Jessa in the back.

I open the door for her—she rolls her eyes—and then we’re off.

I drive us out into the country, to a nice area of land where I back the truck up on a ridge that overlooks the valley below. The sun has set but violet and rich pinks still fill the horizon.

“Wanna talk in the back?” I say, my hand on the door handle.

“Talk? Back there? Really Cole?”

“Come on,” I say. “It’s a pretty night. I’ve got some blankets back there and yes, we can talk. It’s been years, Jessa. I just want to know how you’ve been, what your life is like now. Talk. I’ll even keep my hands in my pockets the whole time, if you want.”

A smile creeps up on her face. “Sure you will. But don’t forget—I know what goes on in the back of this truck. You may have taken lots of girls back there and may have forgotten I was one of them, but—”

“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t say things like that, Jessa.” I look at her, seeing how she’s trying to play it all off but does she really think I’d forget that last night we had together? Why does she think I brought her back to the very same spot?

She swallows and says, “Sorry. I was just teasing.”

“Not about that,” I say. I can tell she’s uncomfortable now so I say, “Come on. There’s still a little of the sunset colors left to see. You always liked them.”

She’d once said that if she could have any talent in the world it would be to paint the amazing sunsets we have here in Morningside Valley. “It’s funny this place is called Morningside, because it’s not the sunrises that are so spectacular, but the sunsets,” she’d said.

I open the gate on the back and offer my hand for Jessa to hop up. She ignores it and steps up on her own. Jessa walks to the back, leans against the cab, and opens her beer. She sets the other on the roof.

I grab the blankets from the corner and spread them out. They’re thick and warm and perfect for the old days when I’d leave the farm in a fit of rage, Dad usually on another bender, so drunk he couldn’t crawl to bed. I’d cut out of there, drive out to some secluded spot, maybe by the lake and fish a little, then just sleep in the back under these very same blankets.

So many memories of this place. Not all of them very good.

But the ones of Jessa—those are the best.

“Here,” I say, sitting on the edge of the truck under the blankets. “Come sit.”

She has one foot crossed over the other, and her legs look so good that I want to take them in my hands and kiss them, higher and higher.

She doesn’t move, and I kind of like her defiance. It’s sexy. But I won’t let her lay out too many rules—I like to set them, but I will give her this one. So I get up and go to her. She’s got her back to the cab and I lean forward on the hood, close enough that my arm just barely brushes hers. She doesn’t move away.

“Okay if I have this?” I say, nodding to the beer.

“I brought it for you, didn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure,” I say. I twist off the top and drop the cap in the bed of the truck. Finally I say, “It’s weird being back here.”

She scoffs. “Not enough coffeehouses for you?”

“You know, I had the best cup of coffee of my life in Poland of all places. Can you imagine? Krakow, this little place near the—”

“Nobody cares, Cole,” she says. She takes her own swig of beer, then leans her elbows back on the hood. Whether she knows this pushes her breasts out even more, I don’t know and truly don’t care. I’ll just take in the view. “Honestly, nobody here cares where you’ve been or what great things you’ve seen. You’re just such a…”

“What?” I say, and I’m smirking now. I know what I’m doing. I know it’s pissing her off. I can’t help that I love seeing her all riled up. It’s fucking sexy.

She looks at me and says, “Snob. You’re such a snob.”

“Oh, come on,” I say. “You can do better than that.”

“Yes, I can,” she says. “But I won’t waste the breath it would take.”

“You’re feistier than you used to be,” I say.

“Go to hell.”

“I love the dirty mouth,” I say. “Very hot.”

“Fuck off, Cole.”

She is so adorable, and she knows I’ve got her. She laughs too, and swats my arm with her hand.

“You been working out too? You’re strong, girl.”

“From holding fifty pound calves,” she says. She holds up her arm and flexes. I reach out and touch the muscles—small but firm. I let my fingers linger on her longer than necessary.

I let out a low whistle. “Dang, you’re not joking. Look at these guns.”

“Told you,” she says proudly. She lowers her arm and a beat later and I remove my hand. She cuts her eyes at me, sets her beer up on the hood. “Let me see that hand.”

I turn my body to face her, leaning my side on the back window. I offer up my hand. She takes it in her tiny hands, and runs her fingers over my palm. I want to snatch her wrist and pull her into me, smash my lips on hers, but I remain still as the smooth tips of her fingers coast along the lines of my palm as she’s looking for answers.

“Just as I suspected,” she says.

“What?”

“City boy hands. Not a single callous.”

It’s another dig at me, but I don’t mind.

“You know, there are other ways to work hard than just on a farm.”

“Yeah, but working outside, with your body and hands, it’s so much more rewarding than sitting in some office in a big city. How can you not see that?”

“My body works just fine, I promise you.”

She swallows hard, and I think I see her breathing get quicker. I know that I affect her, whether she wants to admit it or not.

I take the opportunity to move a little bit closer to her. Again, she doesn’t seem to mind, but as my dick keeps responding to the proximity of her hot body, I tell myself to take it easy.

I can’t rush this.

“I don’t get you,” she says after a moment. “How could you leave all of this behind?”

There’s a light breeze blowing her hair back gently, and her eyes are trained on the horizon, the colors darkening to black. The view she’s looking at? I see nothing. Just emptiness.

“It’s just land,” I say. Leaving this town was the easy part. The only thing I regret was leaving her—but not the town.

Fuck this town.

“It’s not just land to me,” she says softly.

“I know that,” I reply.

I need to taste her, and now. This whole truck and we’re standing here in the back of it, my dick making me shift uncomfortably, all the ways I want to take her running through my mind.

For once, though, I start slow. I reach out for her face, run my fingers over her jaw, and turn her head to face me.

“Cole,” she says so quietly the breeze almost takes the words away.

“What?” I say, not expecting an answer. She won’t look me in the eyes, but she’s not pulling away, either.

I lean in and kiss her gently, her soft lips on mine and I am dead. I slip my tongue passed her lips and slide it over hers, tasting the beer she’s been drinking and damn if it isn’t sexy. She kisses me back long and deep but her hands don’t reach for me.

As hard as it is, I pull back from her, stopping myself from taking any more from her. I’ll just have to go back to my room and jack off about ten times.

Jessa’s eyes are heavy, and her chest is rising and falling slowly but heavily. She waits a moment, her eyes on me and says, “You’re not done, are you?”

Surprised—fucking thrilled—I say, “Do you want me to be?”

She arches her back slightly and says in a low voice, “Take me like before, Cole.”

“Jessa…” Shit, now it’s me who wonders if we should be doing this.

“Please,” she says. “Do you want me to beg?”

Yes, actually, I do, I think but I don’t say it. Damn, she kills me. She has no idea how much she owns me. Every inch of my body wants to take every inch of her body. But I know I shouldn’t. Just because I have money now doesn’t mean I don’t still have my demons. Just because we’ve had amazing sex before doesn’t mean I should do it to her again. Even if she begs. But God I’d love to see her beg for me.

“Did you bring me all the way out here just to tease me?” she asks.

“I could tease you all night,” I say.

“I know you can. I love it when you tease me,” she says, her voice as soft as silk and rich as honey. “I love it when you take me. I love it when you have your way with me.”

I’m about to explode in my pants and I’m not even touching her. If she wants me, and I want her, why the fuck is there still space between us? All I can see is her heaving breasts with her hard nipples showing through, her little short shorts, and her mouth, open and waiting for me. My cock is straining in my jeans. She wants me, and nothing else matters.

“Beg,” I say.

A light flickers in her eyes, and her lips curl up the slightest bit.

“Please,” she says like a breath. “Please, Cole. My body needs you. I’ll do anything you want. Just please, please take me.”

I run my hand across her stomach just to get a feel. She lifts up her tank to expose her skin. My hands cross over plain of her belly, and I let my finger dip into the top of her shorts. She curls her hips up in response. I respond by removing my hand.

“Get on your knees,” I tell her. She wastes no time in kneeling in front of me. She looks up, eager for her next instructions. “Take off my boots.” She wraps one hand around the back of the heel and another on the toe of my boot and gives a good pull. They slide right off.

Let me just say that there is something so sexy about a woman who knows how to pull the boots off a man. She takes off the other just as easily, then looks back up at me, so eager for her next task.

I rub my hand over my jeans, right over my rock hard dick, pushing on it to give it a little relief.

“Open this,” I say. Her little fingers make quick work of the zipper and button, but when she starts to touch my cock, I stop her. “No,” I say. The little crinkle between her eyes when I say this lets me know that she wants it, she wants that cock—in her hand, in her mouth, in her tight little cunt, she doesn’t care. She just wants it. And that’s why she’ll have to wait.

I push my jeans down just enough to finally release my cock. I take it in my hand, feel the heat of it and stroke it nice and slow like so much relief.

“What are we going to do with this?” I ask her, stroking slowly as I keep my eyes on her.

Her eyes are on my cock. She licks her lips. She loves my dick and needs it so bad I can see it all over her body. She spreads her knees slightly and tilts her chin toward me, parting her lips even more.

“Are you going to suck this for me?”

“Yes,” she says, never taking her eyes off it. “Please.”

“Say it.”

“Let me suck your cock, Cole. Please let me suck your big, fat hard cock.”

Her back is arching, pushing her ass up and I know she needs me in every inch of her body, just like I need her.

“Does looking at my big cock make your pussy throb?”

“Yes,” she says. Her hand makes the slightest move.

“Do not touch yourself,” I say, and her hand stills. It takes such self-control to pull so slowly on my dick, knowing how wet her pussy is. I’ve been dreaming of that pussy for years now, and having her on her knees before me, wet and eager, I can hardly decide where to start. All I know is that if I keep pulling, this dick is going to explode. So I put it away.

“That’s enough,” I say. “Now stand up.”