Page 84 of Summer At Willow Tree Farm

Seriously? Again already?

She choked on her beer. He grabbed another condom from the pile on the bedside cabinet.

She pressed into the pillows, the liquid pull in her abdomen swift and unstoppable as his hands flattened on the headboard on either side of her head. He swung one knee over her, caging her in. Her gaze glided down his chest as she watched him roll on the condom.

She finished her beer in one long gulp.

He took the empty bottle from her fingers and slung it towards the bin without looking. It landed with a resounding crash. Another direct hit.

She stared into those piercing eyes. Dark, intent and glazed with hunger. For her.

‘What if I want to talk some more?’ she said, the husky tone of her voice fooling no one – but it was the principle of the thing.

‘Then I’ll take you back to the farmhouse,’ he said, the wry tilt of his lips even more of a turn-on than the challenging tone. ‘We’re not here to talk.’

The air backed up in her lungs as he took hold of the quilt and gave it a sharp tug. It dropped away, leaving her breasts bare.

He circled one pouting nipple with his tongue. The liquid pull became a definite yank as the peak engorged in a rush.

He lifted his head. ‘You want to go back?’

She thrust her fingers into his hair and dragged his mouth towards hers. ‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘Just yet.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ellie skipped up the farmhouse stairs. She had exactly half an hour before she needed to be at the shop to relieve Dee. Just enough time to freshen up after her trip with Mike to another local organic farm who had contacted them about supplying the shop with fresh vine tomatoes, something they didn’t grow at Willow Tree.

The visit had been hugely positive; they’d already drawn up a contract. And Guy Hansard, the farm manager, had given them a list of six other farms, one as far away as the outskirts of Winchester, that had heard about Willow Tree Farm Shop and Café and were interested in filling other gaps they had in their inventory.

After only being in business for three weeks they were already getting a reputation for excellent service and high-end organic produce. It would be a while before they could determine how well they were doing financially, but the excellent customer numbers since the launch showed no signs of slacking and their operating profit in the first three weeks had been beyond all expectations. The shop was still a gamble. A big gamble. But Annie and Tess had made the decision to give up their day jobs last week. Something they were both extremely happy about. And Dee had decided to stop attending farmers’ markets – because so many of her regulars were already coming to the shop.

It was still early days, but so far the signs looked overwhelmingly positive. Securing several grants to ease the cost of the original set-up also meant they had a financial cushion to carry them over any potential shortfalls in January and February when the custom would naturally drop off.

They.

The word slowed Ellie’s step, weighing on her as she entered her bedroom. She was part of this team. Part of this operation. But after a couple of rather tense conversations with Dan on Skype, she’d finally booked her return flights to the US for the end of September. Jacob and Maddy’s wedding was on the ninth, giving her three clear weeks after the wedding to put everything in order to hand over the management of the store to Dee, Tess and Annie. And put all the plans in place for the run-up to the Christmas season.

The Christmas season she was going to miss.

She sat at her dressing table, plucking the last of the pins out of her hair.

Buying the return flights this morning had left her in a bit of a funk. And while the visit to McPherson’s Organic Farm had helped lift her out of it, a little bit, the thought of everything that awaited her in Orchard Harbor in four weeks’ time kept crowding in on her.

She touched her throat, noticing the raw skin from the night before.

And then there was Art.

They’d been sneaking off to the caravan almost every night for the last two weeks. And it had been glorious. Exhilarating and exciting and surprisingly companionable.

The sex had been nothing short of a revelation.

Even in the early thr

oes of her relationship with Dan, when the sex had been plentiful and mostly satisfying, she could see now Dan had been a selfish lover. Making all the decisions about when and where and how much they had. And of course she’d let him, because she was so besotted with him.

With Art it was different. The clandestine dash through the woods at midnight, when she sneaked out to rendezvous with him, was ludicrously exciting because she knew he would be as eager to please her as she was to please him. Together they’d experimented and explored. She felt like a teenager again, but better. As if anything was possible. Young and in lust, but not ashamed to demand her own pleasure.

Perhaps surprisingly though, the quiet moments afterwards, as they basked in afterglow together, before sneaking back to the farmhouse ten minutes apart, had become almost as precious as the orgasms.

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