Page 13 of Winter's Kiss

Had my sister been right? Rowland had never flat out answered who the blonde was, why she seemed to be everywhere within his family’s home and business. Why, with the mention of her, did he retreat?

I plugged my phone in and sat in on the nightstand before I rolled over behind Tucker, my arm stretched over his furry frame. I wanted to know if I made the right choices before they were too late, but I feared what I could lose.

How wrong would I be if he denied or failed to tell me he was married or in a relationship? Would it be my fault? Could I live with that? I knew the dangers of pushing forward with him and yet the other road seemed more devastating. Rowland offered me something I so desperately wanted, needed. I laid in bed the remaining of the night, my mind a riddle of questions. Then it hit me, nothing ventured would be nothing gained. Whatever this thing was with Rowland would only last a week at most, why not live it up?

That night I lay in bed alone. Tucker had moved to the downstairs living area just after dinner. Anna, Theo nor I had heard from Rowland and although they seemed calm about it, I couldn’t help but panic and wonder. Did he get hurt? Stranded in town? Perhaps this had been his excuse to see the blonde? My heart sunk at the thought. I glanced at the clock, three o’clock, once more before I rolled to my side and hugged the body pillow placed on my bed.

I found myself in a perfect dream of him, the way he smelled, felt, and the sweet sound of his groan as I took him in my hand.

A smile pulled to my lips as I remembered the tickle his beard gave while he lowered along my bare skin. Then I felt him, his firm hand along my hip, his mouth just behind my ear. My smile grew, and my head leaned back against his shoulder.

He lowered his hand and curved it around my body with a gentle glide across my stomach. I let out a slight giggle, and my leg lifted and parted from the other. My breathing hitched in my throat as he pushed his hand under my night pants, his long fingers continued their descent. He moved his tips between my folds, over my clit in slow motion.

I started to move my pelvic with a slow-motion pump, as though begging him to move inside me. It wasn’t the part I wanted, but any of him I craved. He moved his hand down, his fingers parting me further, his breath hot against my ear, when I heard his voice.

“Look at me.” I opened my eyes, my head lifted, and turned to find him. This wasn’t a dream. He was there behind me, touching me. My breathing quickened; my lips parted with a gasp turned moan as he glided two fingers inside my tight walls.

My eyes closed, and my hips curved back and forth with the motion of his movement. He pulled his tips to my opening, and with a push forward of my pelvic, he entered me again. His palm hit against my clit, and the excitement he brought from me was expressed with the wetness that covered his fingers.

“Look at me or I’ll stop.” He commanded with a whisper. I opened my eyes, and my gaze returned to his. His wrist began to push harder against me, his fingers deeper into me. The pleasure he brought to my body built inside my stomach; I parted my lips as a louder moan moved through. My breathing hitched more, my hips a hard rock against him.

“YES! PLEASE DON’T STOP!” I pleaded with a harder pump of my hips, my hand a quick grip against his wrist as I pushed him deep inside me. He remained still and allowed me to get lost in the pleasures of his touch. I pushed and pulled myself against him, my clit swelling against his touch until finally, it exploded.

My thighs closed tight around his hand; my clit pulsated against him while I rode out my orgasm. I had forgotten where I was. Where we were. My lips curved into a wide smile as he leaned forward and pressed his lips against my forehead. I could get used to this, I thought. I returned my gaze to him while he pulled slowly from me, my body a roll to my back as his hand rested flat against my stomach.

“I sure hope your parents didn’t hear that.” Rowland with a calm, carefree expression at my concern. “Did you have a good day in town?” I asked, my hand running over the top of his.

“It was eventful.” He replied simply. I lowered my gaze from him, unable to wonder if he had spent it with the blonde. I knew I had chosen to let what happened happen, yet I found myself unable.

“Did you see her?” I asked, my gaze returned to his. “The blonde.” I saw the tightness in his jaw, even hidden beneath his beard. I regretted the question the second it left my lips. He pulled his hand from me and stood from the bed without so much as a glance back at me.

I had done it; I had crossed that line. I ruined whatever could have been between us, no matter the fleeting time. I sat up and watched him as he neared the door. I didn’t want him to go unless I was with him. Yet, I couldn’t let it go, no matter how often I worked to convince myself I could. He reached for the door handle; my body lifted from the bed with a single step toward him.

“I’m sorry, I just… I just need to know. Who is she?” He stopped, his hand on the knob. I waited, silent, nervous. Would I get the answer I wanted? Had I set myself up for pain and guilt? He glanced back at me, that look in his eyes was something I knew I’d never forget.

“She’s my wife.” I gasped at his reply, three words I had wished I never heard.

“Your wife?” I scoffed at how stupid I had been, falling so blindly into the arms of a man who wasn’t what he presented. “Your wife. So, you’re a cheater. And you’ve made me a home wrecker. A mistress. A whore.” I rambled on. Our gazes remained linked seconds more before he pulled open the door and without so much, a glance back left. I could hear his heavy steps as he moved down the stairs and heard him yell for Tucker.

I lowered to a sit along the side of the bed, my heart sunk. I had become something I never thought I would. Angered at the thought that maybe my parents and Andrew controlling my life had been a blessing.

I spent hours sitting on the window bench, my stare locked to his cabin in the distance. I wanted to leave. I knew I should, yet I couldn’t. I was trapped. Trapped at this man’s family home, trapped in this small town where his family seemed to have a huge imprint. At their mercy with my car repairs. What would Theo and Anna say, think of me when they find out how far things had gone between their son and me? What would his wife say when she found out? Had she been trapped outside of town?

Questions upon questions continued to roll through my mind, sleep something of a dream. Could I be mad at him? I had started it after all. I had gone to his cabin in the middle of the night. I had appeared at the side of his couch, wanting him. Had I asked for this? No, he was the cheater; I told myself.

Eight

The following morning, I remained on the bench. The sun started to rise, and with it came the hope it would be the day they rescued my car from the side of the road. I needed to get out of Muddy Waters, back on the road, and to my sisters. I needed freedom to see who I was supposed to be, and what I wanted out of life without the control of anyone. My last interactions with Rowland had been ones of pleasure destroyed by the truth of who he was.

I made my way into the kitchen that morning, coffee needed as much as the air was. When I stepped into the large room, my gaze instantly caught the returned one of Theo while he stood at the counter with two mugs in front of him. I prepared myself for him to lecture me, tell me he would find a way for me to get into town, even from the town. My steps slowed as he looked up at me.

“Thought you could use this.” He spoke with such kindness. I approached, a slight nod in agreement.

“You’d be right,” I replied, my hands flat against the countertop. I felt as though he knew. Had he heard us? He smirked with a scoff while he poured our mugs. “Listen,” I spoke, his gaze lifted to mine. Why wait for him to rip off the band-aid? “I think maybe it would be a good idea if I found a way into town, stayed there while my car is being fixed.” Theo nodded as though he understood. With a turn, he placed the pot back on the counter.

“You do, do you?” He returned his attention to me as he lifted both mugs.

“I think it would be best for everyone.” He handed me the mug. “Especially Rowland’s wife,” I mumbled with a lift of the porcelain to my lips.

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