Page 30 of Westin

Finally, it comes, and I’m on the road in a heartbeat.

My head spins when I think about pulling up her driveway and seeing her on the porch in one of those little sundresses, her boots dusty, her blonde waves falling down her back.

My heart pounds as I turn off the road a little way before the drive. I pull off but head up to the far western side of the field. On my way out last time, I looked up and swore I saw some of those yellow lilies.

Sure enough, they’re on the fence line where the air is cool in the shade. I take a handful and head back down the fence, turning left to go up the drive.

Carter Farms is quiet, all the ranch hands are out in the fields for the day. The front door hangs open, and a barn cat lays on the porch, sunning itself.

I consider just walking in, picking her up, carrying her to her bedroom. Putting her through that mattress until we’re both satisfied.

The screen door bursts open, and she steps out, all bright and beautiful—blonde curls and tanned skin. Our eyes lock as the breeze hits her skirt, tugging it around her thighs.

“Westin,” she whispers. “You can’t keep coming around here.”

I take my hat off. “Seems I can.”

Her cheeks flush, harsh edges softening. She digs the toe of her boot into the porch.

“Why are you here?” she whispers.

“Came to see my girl.”

Her blush deepens. “I’m not your girl.”

I climb the steps and put my hat on her head. “Yeah, you are.”

Her breasts heave under her flowered sundress, short enough that it leaves those gorgeous legs bare.

“How’d you know I was alone?”

“Got a tip-off.”

Her eyes drop to my hand. “Are those…lilies?” She bites her lip, her cheeks blushing pink. I snap one of the blossoms off and tuck it behind her ear.

We’re both quiet, and I swear I hear our hearts beat in tandem.

“Are you trying to romance me?” she whispers.

“I’m just trying to make you feel special,” I say. “To make up for fucking you like a whore in a little while.”

Her jaw drops. I take her by the throat and pull her close, her pulse thrumming under my fingers. She’s so much shorter than me, she needs the stability of my hand as I lean her back and kiss her mouth.

I melt. God, she tastes sweet like iced tea. There’s a hint of lemon when her lips part, on the tip of her tongue.

My body roars to life, and I’m rock hard under my pants. I came here to talk, not to fuck her like an animal, but the intelligent part of my brain is shutting down. Her hand comes up and grabs me by the collar, yanking me even closer. A moan works its way up her throat, and the flowers hit the porch floorboards with a thump.

We break apart, panting, her brown eyes blazing.

“What are you doing to me, Westin Quinn?” she breathes.

“I could ask you the same, Diane Carter.” I kiss her mouth again. “Do you need me, darling? Did it get you wet, thinking about being fucked?”

“Yes,” she pants, pupils blown. “Please, take me upstairs.”

I shake my head. “No. Get in my truck.”

I take her hand and lead her down the driveway to where I parked. She tries to scramble into the truck, but I have to lift her. Her long legs flash as she settles herself in the passenger side and I slide in the driver’s side.

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