Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
She stepped up onto the rock and then I gripped her arm and she let out a surprised gasp that turned into laughter as I lifted her, and she landed behind me. Emily wrapped her arms around my waist, her body pressed against my back. “Ready,” she confirmed, her breath warm on the nape of my neck.
We trotted toward the open desert, nothing but the sky and the mountains in front of us. The red clay ground met the pinkish orange sky, pearly light shining through gaps in the clouds and creating spotlights on the snowcapped hills. It was so stunning that all I could do was stare, our bodies swaying as the horse carried us forward, Emily’s soft sigh behind me letting me know she was as awestruck as me.
We trotted at a leisurely pace for a few minutes, the sun lowering and a deep blue joining the swashes of color.
“No death-defying stunts,” she murmured at my ear. “But what do you say we make it across this desert sooner rather than later?”
My heart rate quickened. The ranch I’d spotted was barely visible now in the lowering light and I didn’t want to be in the middle of the desert when the sun went down. But I knew Emily was suggesting an all-out ride for more reasons than safety. She wanted a thrill. And why not when those were currently in such short supply. “Hold on tight, Showboat.”
Emily pulled in a breath, her arms clamping tightly around my waist as I dug my heals into the horse’s sides and her trot moved into a gallop. I leaned forward and so did Emily, following my lead. The horse seemed eager to run, not holding back in the least, the wind whipping her mane back and making me squint and laugh. Behind me, Emily laughed too, her body hot and soft against my own.
We raced across the hard-packed earth, the sun’s flame being quenched by the icy stars. The world didn’t matter. None of my problems or regrets could keep up. It was only us, wild and free, laughing with abandon, blood pumping furiously through my veins, and Emily’s arms holding me like she’d never let go.
We all might crash and burn, but for that moment, for right then, we were young and alive, and we had already come so far that I believed nothing could stop us now.
The sprawling house came into view, a modern-looking barn off to the side and a corral where I saw five or six horses milling about. I pulled on the horse’s reins, and she slowed, her mane falling back into place as her gallop slowed to a trot. I could feel Emily’s heart racing against my back, her laughter fading, quickened breath still warming my ear. “Tuck,” she murmured, and I wondered if she even knew she said my name.
My body felt alive, but so did my heart and my soul. She’d always done that for me when no one else could. And I didn’t even know exactly how, but I’d craved it, needed it, and I’d had no idea how much.
The horse came to a halt, bending her head to nibble at a patch of dry grass.
Emily grasped my shoulders and then climbed around my body to face me, her core pressed to mine as our eyes met, breath mingling. She leaned forward gently as my body hardened, and I let out a small sound of pained bliss. I wanted her. I wanted her so desperately I was quivering with it.
We breathed together for a few stilted moments, eyes searching, her pretty lips parting. And then I couldn’t hold back another second, suddenly feeling like I’d barely managed to hold on all my life. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her forward and then I met her mouth with mine.
thirty-four
Emily
I let out a strangled sound of relief and pleasure as his tongue swept into my mouth, claiming me. Him. The man who’d kept me safe as the world around us crumbled. The boy I’d loved all my life. Tuck.
I writhed, our hearts crashing against each other’s chests, small sounds of desperation coming from the back of his throat each time I slid against him. The Tuck I’d just raced across the desert with was the Tuck I’d known, the one who’d looked to me to draw him out. He’d only ever needed a small push, the tiniest of nudges to release some of the pent-up pressure he held inside. And I’d loved it. Loved the way he’d trusted me. Loved the way he made me feel necessary. We’d always balanced each other, and I wanted to weep with the knowledge that we still did.
“Em,” he gritted, breaking from my mouth, breath coming out in harsh gusts against my cheek. “Em. I’m going to—”