When Cole puts his dick away I can’t help but whimper the slightest bit. I could practically feel it in my mouth, stretching my jaw, pressing against the back of my throat as I tried so hard to take it all in. But he put it away, back into his black boxer briefs, leaving his zipper open—easy access, I’m hoping—and told me to stand. All I can is abide and hope that he gives me more.

One thing I know: Cole Frost is a man who knows how to fuck. How to fuck and how to fuck with me.

I shouldn’t have come here with him, shouldn’t have let myself be alone with him for so long in secluded country. Now I’m under his spell, I’m dying for what I know he can give me.

And I love every second of it. That gentle kiss he gave me? That was nice and all, but it isn’t how he is. This is how he is. And I can’t help it—I want him to tell me what to do, how to please him, and I'll beg for it if necessary.

I stand before him and he takes me by my hips and pushes my back against the window, where I was just a few moments ago. He slides his hand across my shorts then down over my pussy. He can probably feel how wet I am through all my clothes. He holds me there for a moment. My cheeks are burning and my stomach is filled with the passion that races between my thighs. My whole body is on fire and he’s hardly done anything to me yet.

He rubs his hand back across the length of my cunt and says, “God, I’ve missed this.” I push my hips forward, giving him more of me to have, showing him that I’ve missed him too. He lets out a little groan and puts his head in the crook of my neck, still rubbing my cunt through my shorts. My eyes fall shut, feeling his touch, wanting to explode, needing more of him.

“Please, Cole,” I say, because it’s too hard being so close.

“Tell me,” he says, his breath on my neck.

I know what he wants. “I’m throbbing.”

“Where?” he says, rubbing me more. “Tell me what I want to hear, Jessa.”

“My pussy is throbbing.”

“Throbbing for what?”

“My pussy is throbbing for you, Cole. I’m so wet for you. Please let me take my shorts off. Please, honey.”

He bites into my neck, sucking on me for a moment as he really grabs at my pussy. I let out a yelp of both surprise and relief. But then he steps back, and the cool air washes between us.

“Take everything off,” he commands, and I happily do so. I take off my tank top and white lacey bra, and then unhook my shorts and slide them down to my ankles. It’s with a little relief to know that my panties are somewhat sexy, light blue lace that cuts high in the back. I’m not even sure he sees it, though, because once I’ve stepped out of them, it’s my body he sees.

He looks behind me. “Here, take this.” He hands me the beer bottle, still cold and sweating. As soon as I have it, his big hands take me by the waist and in one swift motion, he lifts my naked body up and props me on top of the truck’s cab.

His fingers brush my knees. “Spread them for me, Jessa. Show me that pussy of yours.” I push my thighs out for him to reveal myself, wet, swollen and aching. But he wants more. “Further.” He doesn’t wait for me. He pushes my knees out so far I have to lean back on my elbows.

“God, you are so beautiful,” he says, eyeing my cunt like cherry pie. I scoot my ass down closer to the edge, closer to him, his mouth. How much longer is he going to make me wait? When he licks his lips, I take the bottle of beer and pour it over my cunt, letting the liquid slip down over my thighs and down the cab’s back window. He steps between my legs, takes my ass cheeks in his hands and jerks me closer to him. Then he buries his face between my thighs, lapping up the beer and my juices, licking over my needy cunt that’s waited for him for so long. I lay all the way back, moaning at every lick he makes, sliding over my thick swollen folds. He flicks his tongue over the hard nub of my clit and he moves his hand to me, pumping two fingers in me without hesitation. I gasp. It’s been so long since I’ve had a man’s hands on me, in me—three years, actually. His long fingers plunge inside me while his mouth and tongue devour me. I’m screaming already, panting for air. My head is spinning with pure pleasure and I’m so close.

“God, Cole. Oh, god, yes. You’re going to make me come. Oh, please make me come.”

But I should have known better. What I want, he takes away. He stops.

“No, please,” I beg. I rock my hips toward him. His hands rub my thighs. I sit up on my elbows. His face is hungry, his lips wet with my juices. He’s leaning into me like an animal on the verge of pouncing. I pour more beer over my cunt but he doesn’t move.

“Give me that,” he says, and then tosses it over the side of the cab.

“Go inside me,” I whimper. “I need more of you.”

He pushes teasingly at my pussy, one finger going in a little more and a little more. I rock my hips toward the intrusion, letting him go as far as he wants.

He leans into me, his hands on either side of me, blocking me in. He looks at me, those blue eyes seeking something from me, some kind of answer. He slides his hand around to the back of my neck and pulls my face down to his and kisses me deeply, hard this time. Our mouths are pressed together, our tongues reaching for one another, skating over one other, wanting more. My mouth is open to him, needing him, filling me with the sweet tang of beer and my pussy and I want it all so bad that it leaves me breathless. When he pulls away from me I nearly fall forward, the intensity is too much.

“Get up on your knees and show me your ass,” he tells me.

I’m like in slow motion, in thick waters moving only as fast as my tingling body will let me. I just want to fall into him, let him take me. Still, I love how he wants me to show myself to him. It makes me hot, knowing that my body can do these things to him.

I crawl up on my knees and turn so that my ass is facing him.

“Damn, look at that,” he says, and reaches for me, rubbing his hand across my cheek. “Go down on your elbows,” he says. “I want to see more. It’s been too long and I’ve missed this ass.”

I go down and expose more of myself to him. His hand runs along my cheek and his fingers go under to my pussy. He drags his fingers up, slipping my wet juices up the length of me until he’s at my hole. He rings it with slippery cunt juices. He presses a little harder on my tight little hole, just enough to let the sensitive nerves tingle with anticipation.

“Yes, Cole,” I encourage him. “Give me more. Please.”

But again, he stops. He slaps my ass and I cry out a little. His arm wraps around my waist and he drags me off the top of the truck. Just one arm, strong and solid and taking hold of my body. He sets me down on top of the thick blankets in the bed of the truck. His eyes never leave mine, even as he pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing his cut chest and six-pack abs. I reach up for him but he catches my wrist before I can touch his skin.

He puts my hand on his dick. It is rigid as fuck, and I can feel the heat of it, hot in my hand. I moan immediately, thinking of all the ways I want it. He pushes his jeans down a bit to release the long length of himself, and I take more of it in my hand. My fingers aren’t even close to wrapping around the whole thing. Cole is long, he’s thick, and he’s hard. And he wants me. Every moment that passes makes me wetter and wetter. I spread my legs for him.

His fingers dance around the edges of my cunt, slipping through my juices. He pushes my hand away from his dick and I lean back on my hands, opening myself up even more.

“I want to know what you’ve been doing with pussy of yours since I left,” he says.

There’s no need to deny the truth here. No man has touched me, here or anywhere else since Cole left. He ruined me for anyone else—after Cole, there’s nowhere to go but down. No man could ever compete.

As his fingers continue to glide along me, I lace my fingers through his.

“A lot of this,” I say.

“All alone?” he says. I nod yes. “What did you put in here?” He pushes his finger and mine into my cunt, and we both pump together, slowly.

“Just my fingers,” I say.

“Don’t lie to me, Jessa,” he says. “Nothing else?” Again, I shake my head not. “Have you been thinking of me?”

“Yes,” I practically moan. Yes, I have, more than he knows. But right now all I want is more of him inside me. “Every night, Cole.”

“You touch yourself when you think of me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Keep showing me how you touch yourself,” he says. He sits back on his heels and puts his fingers, wet from my excitement, into his mouth. He pulls them out long and slow.

“You do it better,” I say.

He takes his dick in his hand and angles the tip toward me. I moan and slid down toward him. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, Cole. Every single day. Every night.” God, if he only knew how much. “Please, Cole. Let me have you. I need you.”

He leans over me, crashing his mouth on top of mine and we take each other in. His dick is rocking over my pussy and I writhe my body trying to get it close to me, inside me where I need it.

Cole pulls back and makes quick time of shucking his jeans. He sits up on his knees before me, stroking his long cock with the moonlight shining down on him.

“God, Jessa,” he says, looking down at me. “I missed you so much, baby.”

Just his words elicit another moan from me. I push my knees out as far as they’ll go. I reach my hands for him and tell him please, please take me.

“Do anything you want to me,” I say. “You can have me.” He has no idea but I mean it in more ways than one.

He takes his dick in his hand and forces it through my folds and into my pussy. I close my eyes and cry out. He slowly pumps into me, the hard ridges of his cock pushing on the walls of my swollen pussy, filling me up, pushing in deeper and deeper.

I open my eyes and see him watching me. He pushes harder into me, making me scream out again. He slaps into me again, making my tits jiggle with the force. He’s holding me by my knees, pushed up almost to my chest, and he takes me again and again, giving me what I’ve been so desperate for these last three years.

We watch each other, eyes deep into each other, and I could cry not just from the pleasure he’s giving me but his presence alone, being back here and with me. The way he’s looking at me I know he’s feeling it too—all those feelings that were brewing between us right before he decided to cut and run, get out of town. That Cole is still here, I can see it. I put my hands on top of his, still on my knees, guiding me, angling me the way he likes.

He laces his fingers in mine, and just when I’m ready to hold on for dear life he lets go, his arms falling to either side of me. He buries his face in my neck like he did before, nipping at my neck and calling out my name.

Every time he says it I want to come.

He fucks me harder and faster, so hard he’s pushing my body back. He leans up on one elbow and holds me down with his other hand on my chest near my neck. He keeps fucking me and holding me down, watching me watch him as he slams into me again and again. He goes harder, and when his eyes squeeze shut I cry out and we come together, our bodies rocking. He pumps into me, and I can feel his come explode into me, making my whole body shiver in pure ecstasy.

“Jesus Christ, Jessa,” he says. He rolls onto his back and move my head onto his shoulder. He easily wraps his arms around me and we lay there, looking up at the stars as our breathing slows. He kisses my forehead and I scoot my naked body closer into his. I take the slow moment to let my fingers skim over his body, feeling his skin and the hard muscles underneath.

“You feel so good,” he says, his fingertips caressing my shoulder. I kiss his chest and then his neck.

“Last time was right out here, with you,” I tell him.

“Last time what?”

I lightly slap his chest. “Last time I did this,” I say. I lay back on his shoulder and we gaze up at the stars together. They absolutely fill the dark sky, a million diamonds spread across the great expanse, twinkling down at us.

“Have you really not been with anyone else?” Cole asks.

Part of me is a bit embarrassed. It’s like I became a nun when he left town. Sure, I became a mom but I still had needs and desires of my own. Even though my sole focus became Lucy, my body still had needs. But I didn’t want anyone else. The one I wanted was gone.

“Sadly, no,” I say. “Pretty pathetic, huh?” I picture the many, many women he’s surely been with since he left—and then quickly shake the thought from my head. It’s the last thing I want to see in this moment.

“No one? Not even Ricky Bedford?”

“Oh my god,” I laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“If I remember correctly, he was obsessed with you. Used to bring his poodle into the clinic just for a chance to see you.”

“He did not, and Barney was a golden-doodle,” I say, laughing at the memory. “He was sweet.”

“The guy or the dog?”

“Both,” I say.

“Sweet is boring,” Cole says.

Maybe he’s a little bit right. The last thing that Ricky could be is passionate. I wanted someone to shake me to my core and really make me feel—in my body and my mind.

“So tell me what’s happened in this town since I left. Anything new, or is it the same old boring shit?”

My mind immediately flashes to Lucy—yeah, you could say a few things have changed since he left. But I can’t tell him about Lucy now. I desperately want to, but now is not the time and besides, I did try to contact him. That stupid email he ignored. I want to know why he did that, and why he’s really back. But instead, I decide to just want to enjoy the moment with him and this feeling like we have no cares but the pleasuring of each other. After all, who knows how long he’ll stick around this time?

“You don’t have to be such a snob about Morningside Valley,” I tell him. “Look at this!” I sweep my hand across the stars in the sky. “You can’t get this in the city. There’s a lot of beauty here.”

“True,” he says. “Most of which I’m holding in my arms right now.”

I run my hand across his chest and hold on. God, he feels so good. Does time have to move forward? Can’t we stay here forever?

But then…Lucy. My sweet girl. I wonder how he’d be with her. I would never want to guilt him into being a parent to a child he didn’t ask for, but God knows I’ve spent many nights fantasizing about him being a true father to her.

His own mother died years ago from breast cancer, and all he had growing up was the farm he grew to despise, and his father, who Cole never spoke much about.

“Hey, how’s your dad?” I decide to ask. Here in the beauty of the night, it seems like it’s okay to ask. But I can feel him stiffen immediately. I kiss his shoulder to show him that it’s okay.

“My father’s going to ruin the one thing he has if it’s not careful.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “The farm?”

“He drinks more than he works most days. I didn’t come home expecting anything to be better, but I sure as shit didn’t know it would be as bad as it’s getting. Jesus, just seeing him made me realize, once again, that getting out of here was the choice I ever made.”

My heart cracks when he says that. He keeps saying things like that, and it’s hurtful.

“You sure got out quick,” I say, testing the waters. Who knows, maybe he’ll bolt again, and now.

He’s quiet for a moment. Then he says, “I just had to get free. Everything here was sucking my soul dry so I got out. There was nothing here for me.”

“Nothing? Not even me?”

I regret it the moment I say it. I can’t dig for compliments or force feelings from him, but he way as well have shoved a dagger into my heart.

“Jessa…”

The sound of my name on his lips sounds of disappointment. Moments ago it was filled with lust and hunger and want. Now it’s like he wants to get away from me—again.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

If I try to get close to him, he’ll just leave. I don’t know what I want from Cole Frost, but I do know that I want him here with me, even if only for a little while. Maybe tonight is all he’ll give me, and he’ll be gone again in the morning. After all, he left right after that night three years ago when I told him that I was falling for him. It was just like tonight, in the bed of his truck up on this ridge. It’s like it’s all happening again but the second time around feels even worse. A double rejection. The sting of it sends shivers over my skin.

“You’re cold,” he says, running his hands on my arm.

Part of me wants to burrow deeper into his arms but the logical part of me knows I should probably move away from him. Just then, I hear my phone pinging texts. I jump up to find it laying in the corner of the truck—it could be about Lucy.

It’s a text from Avery saying Lucy has been fussy all night and, if it’s okay, Avery thinks it’s best if Lucy comes home to sleep in her own bed. I think she just needs Momma tonight, she writes, filling my heart up with love.

“I need to get home,” I say. I start looking for my clothes. I screwed it all up again. Why couldn’t I have just enjoyed the moment? For a little bit, it was perfect.

When we get back in the cab and Cole puts the truck in drive, it’s like he can’t get me home fast enough.

Sure, I’m hurt, but as Cole speeds down the backcountry lanes to my house, I know I made the right decision in not telling him about Lucy. He can’t even have a conversation about anything deeper than the weather. He could never handle being a father to Lucy. He’d only break her heart like he’s so good at breaking mine, and there’s no way I can let that happen. The best thing for everyone is for Cole to never know about Lucy. It’s the only way.