Two weeks.

It’s been two whole weeks since Rachel left me and went back to Toronto.

If it were any longer, I’m pretty sure my heart would call it quits on me. I know two weeks is nothing compared to six years but I swore to God she’d never be out of my sight again.

Thankfully, she is coming back.

Today.

I’m currently parking my Tacoma at Kelowna’s airport, counting down the minutes until her plane lands.

When Rachel told me she wanted to move back to North Ridge and live her life with me at the ranch, I thought I couldn’t be that lucky. And even though that’s all I ever wanted, I didn’t want to make her seem like she had to. I didn’t want her to feel pressured.

But she was adamant that it was what she wanted.

So I told her she was free to live with me in the guest house and then we’d figure out what to do next. I stood back and watched, wondering if she was really going to do this.

And she did. She stayed in North Ridge until I got better, until her mother got better, then she left.

In those two weeks, she’s put her condo up for sale. She’s quit her job at the ad agency. She’s done all she can so she can have closure with that city and create another fresh start here.

The truth is, if she loved that city and wanted to stay, I would have followed her. I should have done that years ago, I should have tracked her down, I should have gone wherever she went. And if that was the way it had to be now, I wouldn’t hesitate. I would leave North Ridge and the ranch behind. I would do what needed to be done in order to be with her.

It wasn’t in the cards.

This hand didn’t play out like I expected.

And she’s my wild card.

When it’s time to get her, I go inside the airport with a bouquet full of roses, gathered along with the other people waiting at Arrivals.

I watch the passengers exit. People are hugged, cheeks are kissed, tears are shed.

And still no Rachel.

My heart falls.

The last I heard from her was when she called me, the day before yesterday. Cell reception is spotty at the ranch, as usual. I thought maybe her texts weren’t coming through but now that I’m in Kelowna with full bars, I don’t see anything from her.

Maybe she changed her mind.

Maybe she decided it was too hard.

Maybe she decided to stay.

Shit.

Maybe it was too much, too soon, and it scared her. I know she’s been here for me but maybe it was only because I was recovering from the burns, maybe she just couldn’t tell me the truth.

Rachel…

And then, like a mirage floating in the distance, I see her.

She’s dragging a carry-on suitcase behind her, looking wide-eyed and hopeful as she searches the crowd.

Then she sees me.

Runs to me.

I grab her in front of everyone.

I don’t care.

I kiss her.

Hard.

It’s completely different from how we last kissed before she left. That was soft and tentative.

This one is hunger.

I am starved for her.

I’ve been starved for her for the past two weeks. I’ve done nothing but dream about her, about all the things I want to do. All the promises we’ve made, the promises we’ll keep.

Now she’s here, in my arms, and I’m slowly unraveling.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” I tell her breathlessly.

She grabs my face, peering deep into my eyes. “I’m here.”

I pull back and hand her the flowers which are now a little crushed. “Sorry. These are for you.”

“They’re gorgeous, Shane. You shouldn’t have.” Her cheeks flush and she looks so damn adorable I want to pick her up all over again.

And I do. I pick her up, twirl her around, reveling in the fact that she’s here and she’s mine.

“I booked us a hotel,” I tell her later as we get her two massive bags from baggage claim and bring them to the truck. “We aren’t driving back to North Ridge tonight.”

The hotel is a massive, fancy one along the shores of Lake Okanagan. Since her flight landed in the afternoon, we have time to relax on the beach if we want to. It may be October now but the temperature is still holding strong here and the numerous vineyards in the area are in full swing, though give it a few more days and things will start to get cold.

But we aren’t here to explore or make a vacation out of it.

The only place I want Rachel right now is lying in that plush hotel bed.

We get up to the room and I take her flowers, plucking off the petals and scattering them all over the floor and the bed. Well, they were crushed anyway.

Then I’m on her.

I unleash myself on her neck, licking and sucking until she’s starting to weaken at the knees, soft moans falling from her mouth. Honey on my tongue. Music to my ears.

I get undressed to my briefs in a flash, she’s ripping her shirt over her head and I drop to my knees to help her out of her skirt and underwear. I pull the skirt down first and peer up at her as my hands slowly work their way back up her thighs.

She grabs a hold of my hair instead for balance.

My fingers find her underwear, the thin material damp with her desire.

“God, you’re so wet for me,” I murmur, staring up at her. “Can I make you wetter?” I move her panties to the side and slip my finger along her, the sensation making me delirious with lust. She lets out a lengthy moan, her hands tighter in my hair. “I want my cock to slide into you, just like this.” I add an extra finger and move them in together. “Just like this,” I whisper as my fingers go along. “You want it deeper?”

She groans and I look up to see her arch back, her breasts pointed forward, her sweet, pink nipples tight and hard.

My beautiful raven girl.

“Do you want my cock?” I ask softly, knowing she loves it when I’m bold. “My tongue? How would you like me to fuck you?”

“Any way,” she says through another moan as I drive my fingers even deeper. “Shane…”

She trails off into a moan as I press my face in, my tongue snaking out and licking up to her clit. “You taste so good,” I murmur into her and she shudders from the vibrations. “Like you belong on my mouth, your taste made for my tongue.” I pause and look up at her. “You were made for me, you know that?”

I suck her clit into my mouth, wet, warm, and she gives a sharp cry, calling out my name in such a way that it will be my undoing if she keeps this up.

I pull away and stand up. Her eyes are half-closed, dazed, mouth open.

Gorgeous.

Even though it’s just a few steps to the bed I pick her up and carry her over, laying her down on her stomach on top of the strewn petals.

She pulls herself forward so that she’s in the middle of the bed and I climb on top of her, my thighs on either side of hers, tanned skin against pale, straddling her just below her ass. The burns that run down my thighs are horrible to look at but when they’re contrasted with her beauty, they only remind me how lucky I really am.

I grab my cock at the base and steadily push it in between her legs, into her as deep as I can go. She feels like a tight velvet fist. So damn soft. So real.

With a shuddering breath, I press my hand down on her shoulder, slowly pulling myself out, then back in, trying to find the rhythm. My thighs are doing most of the work, shaking slightly, the muscles popping as I move faster and faster, my cock disappearing entirely inside her.

My hips circle and I shorten my thrusts so I don’t slip out. She’s wet down to the middle of her thighs and I want to stay inside her deep like this, firmly packed. It’s such a fucking squeeze that a sweat is breaking out at my temples, my muscles wound too tense.

I know I won’t last much longer, but it doesn’t matter.

We have all night.

And we have all the nights after.

I move one hand down to her waist and grip her while the other squeezes in between her hips and the mattress until I reach her clit. It’s soaked and my finger slides over it with ease.

That’s all it takes.

Her body tenses and then starts to quake beneath me. She pulses around my cock, her clit throbbing under my finger. A sharp cry leaves her lips, then fades off into breathless little moans that bounce off the walls.

I come immediately after. There’s a rush along my spine until something at the base of me explodes. I grunt like an animal, thrusting deeper and deeper, the bed shaking. The neighboring rooms are getting quite the show.

I exhale loudly, trying to find my breath again, my heart thudding to a marching beat inside my head. I lean back on my thighs, absently run my hands over her ass while I remember how to breathe. Then, when it doesn’t feel like I’m having a heart attack, when the sweat stops rolling off my brow, I gently pull out.

Leaning forward, I put my lips to her ear. “Did you miss that?”

She turns her head, her eyes closed and makes a sweet murmur of agreement.

I brush the hair off her face and kiss her cheek. Then place tiny, soft kisses on her neck, shoulder, down her spine.

“Welcome home,” I whisper.