My truck seat squeaked as I bounced along the dimly lit highway. I kept glancing into the rearview mirror to check on Joanna and make sure she was safely behind me as we made our way to the farm. She’d packed her things quickly and Bud loaded up into the cab of her truck.
I hadn’t intended to invite her to stay with me, but lying in the shitty motel with its lumpy, worn bed and the musky old-lady smell overpowering the lush, citrus scent of her shampoo, I just couldn’t stand the thought of her having to stay there a minute longer. There was an overwhelming desire to protect her taking root inside of me, and I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
Leaving her in the parking lot after dinner was an idiotic thing to do, but now I was faced with the consequences of going back. I realized I had not only upended Joanna’s plans, but my entire fucking life. Breathing heavily, I pulled into the gravel path that served as a driveway to my small cottage.
The farm was dark, making the Big House look a little more menacing than it did in the daytime. A small light in the window indicated old man Bailey was still awake. I would have to talk with him in the morning about our new guests.
Joanna’s truck pulled up alongside mine, and she hopped out, Bud trailing happily behind her. I moved to the bed of the truck and hoisted her duffel bag and backpack out, carrying both.
“I can get those,” she said.
I pinned her with a raised eyebrow.
With both hands up, she laughed. “Ok, ok.” She laughed again, and my heart took a tumble in my chest. “I appreciate it.”
I walked up to my front door and dug the key out of my jeans pocket. Once the door swung open, I realized that maybe I should ask her if she wanted to stay the night. Shifting on my heels, I said, “Uh . . . I haven’t been in the other cottages in a while. I know for sure there’s no clean sheets right now. We can stay here tonight, if that’s okay with you.”
“Great!” Her eyes beamed in the darkness. “I’m low maintenance. This works.”
Low maintenance.
In my experience, most women who claimed to be low maintenance were the exact opposite of that. My eyes drifted up Joanna’s shape when she walked past me into the darkness of the room and I actually believed her. I smiled to myself.
I’ll take care of you.
I wasn’t sure where that thought came from, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. A tiny bud of warmth spread through my chest.
We settled in, and I gave her the grand tour, which included me sweeping one arm wide and saying, “This is it.”
Joanna chuckled softly. “It’s great. Cozy.”
“Can I get you a beer? Bourbon?”
“A bourbon on the rocks would be perfect,” she said.
As I moved to the kitchen to pour us each a glass, I flipped on a radio—old country classics played quietly through the speakers. She moved toward the small wood-burning stove in the corner of the living room.
After tilting her head, Joanna started stacking wood inside the stove and gathered the tinder to start a fire. I loved that she was able and confident as the small flames flickered and splayed shadows across the walls.
After I handed her a glass, we sat on the couch near the fire, Joanna’s legs tucked underneath her, her free arm propping her head up as she looked at me. My arm was stretched across the back of the couch, but we were at opposite corners and I fucking hated that.
I reached my hand toward her, and she stretched hers to meet me. “Get over here,” I said softly.
Joanna scooted closer to me. For a few minutes, we were quiet, listening to the low hum of cowboy songs on the radio. My fingers traced the long line of her neck. I could feel the songs vibrate through her as she hummed along. She watched the small flames dance in the fire, and I took in her beautiful face. Her long lashes, full lips, hints of freckles across the bridge of her straight nose. I couldn’t believe she was really here. This night had been incredible, and she was so much more than I could have ever imagined.
For years, I had been chasing a ghost, but here she was. Real. It felt overwhelming, confusing, and a little unsettling to think that a search I couldn’t seem to get past would simply fade away.
But then there was everything else. Everything with Joanna was easy. I could talk to her, and I didn’t really like talking to anyone. Feeling her body against mine felt like second nature. I found myself twirling a strand of her hair, listening to her humming when she tipped her face toward me and smiled.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked. When I nodded, she continued. “Do you ever get lonely out here?”
Taking a sip of my wine, I thought about her question. “Mostly I like being alone. But I do have Mr. Bailey to take care of. He’s capable, but getting on in years. He needs help with maintenance around here, so I stay busy, and some nights we’ll sit on his back porch and visit.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” she added. I watched her mouth as she tipped her glass, the bob of her throat as she swallowed.
“I’m the lucky one,” I said. “He let me stay here when I was determined to fuck up my entire life. He wouldn’t let me bail on Mom or Finn but gave me a safe place to go crazy.” I shifted uncomfortably. That was something I never talked about—I wasn’t sure why I had just shared all of that—and part of me didn’t want Joanna to know about the darkness that still crept over me at times.
She didn’t press for more information. Instead, she smiled gently, inched a little closer to me, and we let the moment pass—for that I was grateful.
The music turned to a familiar honky-tonk ballad. The singer crooned a warning about not turning her blue eyes his way for fear she’d see how in love he was. That song got me in the gut every time I heard it.
I stood, holding out my hand to her. Joanna’s elegant fingers slid across my palm as I pulled her into an embrace. I hovered over her, but dipped my head low and pressed my temple to hers.
We stood, swaying to the music, with the length of our bodies pressed tightly together. My hand on her lower back traveled lower as I began to murmur the words of the song in her ear, of course, changing the “blue eyes” lyric to green.
I tried to ignore the gnawing guilt as my thoughts flicked to Finn. I pushed it down and focused on the woman in my arms.
Her skin was warm and soft as I slipped a hand beneath the hem of her shirt. My cock pulsed to match the uptick of my heartbeat. She shifted her hips, pressing herself closer to me, feeling my length against her hip.
“Lincoln, I have to tell you something.” Her voice was breathy and soft. “I’ve never been with anyone like you. It feels so good to feel you against me right now.”
The corner of my mouth tipped up, and I gently pressed her against me. Her breath hitched. “Tell me.”
Still swaying, she reached up to move her arms around my neck. Joanna dragged her fingertips across the backs of my shoulders. “These shoulders.”
Her fingertip trailed a vein running down my bicep. “This vein.” She continued burning a path of desire down my arm.
Yes. More.
“These forearms.” When her hands met mine, I closed my eyes and breathed her in.
“These hands. I want your thick, rough hands all over me.” She twined her fingers with mine. Hearing her give voice to her desire sent a flood of heat to my cock. It did not go unnoticed.
Joanna shifted her hips, pressing herself into my thickening erection. Her hand moved to find me hard and aching. She squeezed my cock through my jeans, and I nearly came.
Fucking rookie.
Her fingers moved to the button of my jeans, unfastening it. Her eyes flicked up to mine. “But this,” her green-gray eyes never left mine as she slowly lowered my zipper, “this is what I want right now.”
As Joanna slipped both hands around my ass and pushed my jeans down, I reached back to pull my shirt over my head. She toyed with the band of my boxer briefs before lowering them. My cock sprung out, and she filled her hand with me.
I moved my hand to her breast, finding her nipple round and hard. I grazed my thumb over the hard peak and she moaned as I pushed my hips forward, thrusting my cock into her hands.
“Fuck yes,” I rasped, tilting my head back, enjoying the sensation of her strong hands gliding against my dick.
My eyes snapped open when I felt her move down, lowering herself to her knees. Joanna’s eyes were full of mischief.
Holy shit. Yes, fuck, yes.
She nestled herself on the ground, and I shifted my weight, widening my hips for her. One hand raked up my stomach, teasing the trail of hair that extended from my belly button down to my cock. A tingle ran through me, and my dick jerked in response.
Joanna wrapped one hand around the base of my erection and leaned forward. Licking the crown, she swirled her tongue and then made one drag of her tongue up the base of my cock.
“You want that?” I asked, my voice low and deep.
“Fuck yes, I want this.” She stroked with one hand as she moved her tongue along the other side.
Taking me into her mouth, she moaned an mmmm, and the vibration radiated through me. I watched as she stroked and sucked. Seeing her lips wrapped around my cock was like a drug. I had to hold myself back from fucking that pretty mouth of hers rough and hard like my body was begging me to.
Joanna worked my dick. Too small to fit all of me, she licked and sucked and swirled while keeping a firm, pumping grip at the base. When she took me as deeply as she could and the tip of my cock hit the back of her throat, a rumbling moan escaped me.
She looked up at me again and licked my tip. One eyebrow raised, she took my hand in hers and gently guided it to the back of her head.
Oh, fuck.
Careful not to hurt her, I pumped my hips and held her head as she sucked harder and faster. I was rewarded with whimpers of pleasure. On the brink, I could feel my body tighten. I didn’t want her to stop devouring me, and I also didn’t want this to end. Joanna took me deep again, eyes up as I fisted her hair, and I felt her tight mouth around my cock.
I snapped.
Shifting back, I pulled my cock out of her mouth with a pop. Moving fast, I dropped down and shifted her kneeling body toward the couch.
Behind her, I pinned her upper body to the soft fabric and nipped her ear. “You like it rough and dirty? Or are you a good girl?”
“What do you think?” Challenge glowed in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder.
I moved my hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up so I could lick and kiss and nibble the skin on her back. She groaned, encouraging me to keep going.
Removing her shirt and bra, I cupped her breast and pushed my dick into her jeans, pinning her body against the couch. I moved to push the jeans down, along with her underwear but didn’t bother to take them completely off.
I grabbed the base of my cock and ran it up her seam. She was already wet, glistening against my taut skin.
“Take me, Lincoln. Own me.” Her voice was thick.
I moved my cock down again, pressing the hard length against her clit, and it throbbed in response. Dragging it up to her entrance, I spread her open with the tip.
“More.”
I gave another inch. Backed out.
“More, Lincoln.”
Giving more, I teased her. She was primed and ready, and I wanted her to come before I completely unleashed on her. I used a finger to rub small circles around her clit, and her breath quickened, back tightened.
I pumped in a steady rhythm, but still not giving her my full length.
“Is this what you want?” I surged in and out.
“No. I want it all. I said give it to me.”
With that, I pushed farther, spreading her pussy open and filling her with my cock. We both moaned in ecstasy. I watched my cock slip in and out of her while I played with her clit.
She panted and I stroked. I felt her muscles squeeze me tightly and release once. She was almost there. I was learning the rhythms of her body. Steadying my pace, I drew out her orgasm. When the clenching of her pussy was rhythmic and tight, I pumped harder, deeper.
“Yes, Lincoln, don’t stop.”
With one hand on her hip and the other between her legs, I pinched her clit between two fingers. A surge of wetness surrounded my cock as she came. She pulsed around me.
“Yes, Joanna. Fuck, yes.” I came, surging into her until I was emptied. My body doubled over her back as we both regained our breath.
In the darkness, the dying light of the dwindling fire spread a warm glow over Joanna’s body. We’d never quite made it to the bedroom—instead, wrapped in blankets, we had fallen asleep on the couch. Well, she had, at least.
Joanna’s warm body was tucked next to mine, and I traced circles over the curve of her shoulder. She drew deep, slow breaths, and the rhythm matched my own.
How easy could this be?
Joanna there with me felt so natural, but the buzzing just under my skin didn’t let me rest. I couldn’t risk falling asleep, having a nightmare, and scaring or even hurting her as I jerked awake, arms flailing. I wanted at least one day where she wouldn’t see I was a total fucking lunatic. I wanted to live in this fantasy—where I was normal, and Joanna was mine.
I wondered if the nightmares would stop now that she was here. Breathing deeply, I brushed my lips over her hair, taking in her scent. I tilted my head backward, allowing rest, but not deep sleep, to take over me.
Stay here, in the moment, remember your training. Breathe. Once a Marine, always a Marine.
For the first time in my life, those words felt a lot less like a comfort and more like a curse.
