Home at Last [Davis Hollow, Davis Ranch 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Read online

  “I get where you’re coming from. My mother didn’t think she would fit in with my father’s lifestyle. She was old, old Mexican. She cooked, cleaned, and took care of me, but all the things that Peter did, balls, traveling, cocktail parties, weren’t her thing. She knew it and even my father knew it, but it didn’t stop them from loving each other. It just kept them living in separate houses until she got cancer and he brought her here for him to take care of.” He breathed in heavily. Iona’s smoke wafted over to him. “I loved having two houses to go to as a kid, but I wanted them to be there together for me. Still, I can understand what she and you are going through. Just don’t end up wasting time that you could spend together.”

  “What about you? Where’s your lover?” Iona asked.

  “I’ve not found what you and CJ have right now. Until I do, I can hang out solo,” Clint said. He smiled through the gathering gloom.

  CJ and Marcus banged onto the porch through the kitchen door. CJ carried a new tray with drinks and different select noshes. He handed Clinton a beer, his father a martini, sat his own scotch on the chair closest to Iona, and for her, he placed a small almost thimbleful of scotch on the table closest to her.

  Iona tried to discretely hide her cigarette case full of illegal, finally getting it closed and pushed back into her pocket before Marcus looked up from his drink.

  Marcus flashed her smile and Iona returned it. The men talked of the day-to-day things that needed to be done on the ranch while Iona basked in her buzz and her itty-bitty tiny scotch. The night got a little colder and she folded her legs under her. She concentrated on the sounds of their voices, deep and similar but not. She could see the man CJ would become, a bit more sober than his father but still the same man.

  * * * *

  She stretched to get out the kinks and get her blood running. It was fully dark now and it was way cold for her to be out without her wool socks and sweaters. She made out the huge shadow that had to be CJ. His head was cushioned by a pillow he used to bridge the back of the couch and the window sill and still support his torso. He sat with his legs outstretched, splayed open, crossed at the ankles. A glass of something, scotch of course, hung in the hand he had draped over the arm of the chair facing Iona’s. It was too dark to see much of his face but enough light was available for her to see a funny smile on his face.

  With a nod of his head, he offered her a drink, but she declined with a simple head shake.

  “Why so much angst, babe?” she asked as she took a sip of her watered-down lemonade. The ice had melted.

  “There it is, the first one,” he said softly.

  “The first what?”

  “The first time you called me a pet name without me making you come.” He sipped his scotch.

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken. Besides, who listens when they’re fucking?” Her voice was husky with smoke and anticipation.

  “I listen to you in whatever situation. ’Sides, you say a lot of shit when we’re making love that I can use against you. I like that about you. You talk to yourself so that everybody can hear. When you come, you babble stupid stuff. I think your sister said that you don’t lie. Everybody lies, Lil Bit,” CJ said.

  “Sure I lie, but I don’t do peace-breaking lies. That’s what Cyn was talking about.”

  CJ stopped his drink halfway to his mouth. He carefully placed the glass down on the glass table. Leaning forward, CJ positioned his head so he could see her face in a thin shaft of light coming from inside the house.

  “What is a peace-breaking lie?”

  “Everybody tells regular lies, ‘yeah you look good in that’ or ‘you’re the best I ever had,’ but when you tell a lie that breaks somebody else’s peace, that’s wrong. I don’t do that, bad Karma,” Iona said. She wanted to go into the warmth but didn’t want to leave the joy of just hanging out with CJ.

  “So you wouldn’t tell me a lie that would break my peace?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Do you want to stay with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to stay?”

  “No.”

  “I guess I have some work to do,” CJ said. He dropped his head back against the pillow. Iona drew her legs closer to her body to ward off the coming cold.

  Chapter Twelve:

  Hope You Laugh Out Loud

  Iona stood under the hottest water she could stand. The walk-in shower in the guest room was an oasis of plants and recessed lighting. The soft sound of a Spanish guitar was piped into the stall. The shower area was in the middle of the room with three non-connecting glass walls facing the door.

  She dropped her head, allowing the water and shampoo to cascade into her eyes. This shampoo is making my eyes water. She scrubbed through her hair wondering how she would explain all this to Cyn and Linc. “I beat up a woman I just met because of a man I’ve been sleeping with after meeting him for the first time last week. I am seriously fucked up. I really, really need to go home.”

  “You are home, Lil Bit,” CJ said. His hands gently caressed her, tenderly cupping her breasts. He pulled her close so that the touch of his dick, pressed against the small of her back, added an additional pressure point, an additional endearment. Adjusting the temperature down and the flow to gentle, CJ slowly turned Iona around and knelt at her feet, laying his head between her breasts, hugging her tight. They stood in the warm water for a long time, holding each other as if they would be separated for life.

  CJ finally stood up, hugging her close to his chest. She moaned, clutching him into her, enjoying the hardness of his legs where they tangled with hers, the hairiness of his chest cushioning her face, and the body-wash freshness of his smell. Taking a towel from the bar attached to one of glass panels, he turned off the water and wrapped her in the soft white bath sheet, picked her up, and took her through to the bed.

  He bundled her mass of hair in another towel and left the room to return with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He poured out two drinks, handed her one, and clinked glasses as he sipped his and she downed hers. He poured her another.

  “You drink quicker than Marcus,” CJ laughed.

  “I don’t drink. Cyn buys my stuff from town and she wants me to become a teetotaler. I grow my own ganja for edibles, but I only use that when I have to work late at night. It keeps me thinking,” Iona said. She reclined on the head of the headboard, watching over the rim of the glass as he sat, naked, dick hard at the end of the bed. She wanted to touch him but was afraid of him taking it wrong. It was important to her to remember her first lover with a sense of joy and wonder, what she felt, every time she saw him or talked to him or heard his voice on the phone.

  CJ nonchalantly kneaded her legs while looking off into space. As if she were essential to keeping him connected to the earth, he moved his hands up her leg to her thighs, learning her more and more as he went higher. When he finally flowed his fingers across her pussy, she lay motionless, breathless, waiting.

  “Why are you so worried, Lil Bit? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you for as long as you need me to be,” CJ said. His hand continued its action, but he continued to look into space.

  “Isn’t this nuts to you? Just days ago you didn’t even know what I looked like now you’ve gotten rid of your fiancée and pissed off your parents,” she said.

  “Just Cheryl, she likes big formal occasions.”

  “But you did get rid of Elizabeth and you’ve been engaged for more than a minute.”

  “I should have ended it years ago. It was easier not to because it kept other gold diggers off my back. She was a convenient inconvenience.”

  “Am I going to take over that title?”

  “No, Lil Bit, you’re my lover. I want to make you my partner. After that we can talk about marriage, because I want that right now, but I want to give you time to get used to me.”

  He turned his intense stare to her. “Damn, you look about sixteen. I should leave you for somebody my own age, but damn me to hell and
back, I can’t.”

  CJ kissed the inside of each knee and continued the path up to her thighs. He nibbled on her pelvic bone before burying his head between her legs, spreading her open for his tongue. Iona gasped and moaned, trying to remain still, show no emotions, and let him have his way so he would leave after he saw that she was totally impartial to his expert licking of her clit. Wet, hungry sounds filled the room as CJ expertly traced a path from her clit to her flowing pussy. Iona grabbed the end of the towel, forcing it in her mouth to stifle some of the deep-throated groans that joined the sound of him licking, lapping, loving her pussy as if it were the most succulent taste in the world.

  She tried to stop it, but after more concentrated attention to her clit, she burst into a shattering orgasm that tensed every bone in her body and released her into a thrashing, panting, boneless heap. CJ crawled between her splayed legs, placing her ankles on his shoulders. He leaned over her, kissing her, biting her tongue and lips and filling her mouth with her taste.

  As he centered his dick at her flowing opening, he called her name, twice to get her attention.

  “Look at me, Lil Bit, this is me taking you. This is me claiming you as mine. This is me saying that you belong to me and no one else.”

  At each bold statement, Iona looked in his eyes and nodded her agreement. He plunged into her. They both shouted. He threaded his arms through her legs and leaned over her until she was almost bent double. He used the position to kiss her until she pulled her head back to catch her breath.

  “Open your eyes, Lil Bit. Don’t look away from me. I need to hear the words. I need to know you believe what I say.” His voice was thicker and deeper than normal, an intensifying growl. “Say it!”

  Iona stared deep into his green eyes. “You belong to me. You are mine and no one else’s.” She screamed harshly as she came stronger than ever before.

  He shouted his release and she could feel his cum gushing into her body, mixing with her own and leaking onto the bed. They lay exhausted until the sweat cooled on their bodies. CJ went to the bathroom and came back with a short length of rawhide. He flipped her onto her stomach and quickly finger combed her now-damp hair, plaited it down her back, and tied the end with the rawhide. He picked her up and carried her to his room and laid her in the clean, dry bed. The last thing she remembered was him gently kissing her temples after he turned off the bedside lamp.

  * * * *

  Iona realized where she was before she opened her eyes. She could hear the soft sleep sounds she had come to know as CJ breathing in her ear. She carefully lifted his arm and slipped out the bed to pad to the bathroom. She relieved herself, washed her hands, took a minute to clean off the residue of their lovemaking with a warm soapy washcloth. Back in bed, she turned to face her lover. He slept with the comfort of the very young, his faced totally relaxed and guileless. She traced the line of light blond hair spread from nipple to nipple across his broad chest. The hair continued down his flat stomach, slightly defined, but by no means a six-pack. The line continued down past his inny navel and spread out again as it reached his pelvis. His dick slept with the rest of him, rising slowly with each breath. Her eyes traveled past his dick to his large, full balls that were curiously hairless.

  Without a clear thought, she scooted down the bed to lie face-to-face with his dick, content at first to simply watch it move as he breathed but finally touching it softly with the tip of her tongue. She held her stiffened tongue steady and let his body movement cause his dick to brush against her as he slept.

  She didn’t move for many minutes allowing the sensation of his dick on her tongue to continue until he started to stiffen slightly. As he did, she moved closer, inhaling the smell of his building arousal.

  Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the tip of his growing penis, still not adding pressure or any sucking motions, just feeling the girth and texture of him with her tongue. Around and around she circled his tip, tasting more and more leaking pre-cum as he got harder and harder.

  CJ hitched a lungful of air, but didn’t come fully awake. She could feel him fighting to wakefulness but wanted this moment of personal connection to last until she was ready to let it go.

  Iona traced the rim of his mushroom head down to where it connected to the beginning of his harden shaft. He moaned quietly, still in the place between conscious and wonderful wet dream. Her tongue made a game of tracing his rim, playing her tip to his slit and lapping the moisture that collected there. She took him into her mouth to savor the flavor of Christopher Joseph Davis that defined him, slightly sweet, salty with a creamy center. A PayDay candy bar.

  CJ was fully awake and fully aroused. He pulled himself to lean against the headboard. She followed him, never losing contact between her mouth and his dick. He hissed his approval, trying to reach for her, but she smacked his hands away. She, Iona, wanted to have this moment of power and control. She, Iona, wanted to make him feel the kind of lack of control that came with giving your pleasure over to someone else. She, Iona, would make him come.

  She sucked him in deep and quick, past her gag reflex, deep within her throat. His dick pulsed heavily, deep within her, throbbing for release, which she did not give. She snapped her head back, bringing his head back into her mouth, enjoying the taste of him for a few seconds before she sucked him back in deep. CJ scrambled closer to the headboard, deeply aroused by her machinations but scared at the deep feeling that filled him. She was relentless, pursuing him as he retreated, lovingly sucking and tasting and controlling where and how she wanted him.

  CJ’s dick expanded in her mouth and she reveled in it. She felt the power of giving pleasure so intently that when he did come, in a throbbing blast that coated her throat, she came, too. The sense of power and connection took her to a place of pleasure that felt so very right, intimate, and rare that she felt the tears fall onto his pubic hair. She lay on his thigh, letting the tears fall and not fighting as he pulled her into his arms, cuddling her, cooing his approval, stroking her back down to earth.

  * * * *

  “I’ll take you home now,” CJ said. It seemed like hours later, but it was less than thirty minutes. She pulled away from him, smiling slightly.

  “I’d rather take the commercial flight out of DFW.” Her voice was heavy and low. Older than her twenty-three years.

  “No, no commercial for you. If you don’t want me to go, I’ll rustle up Clint and have him see you to your door.” CJ swung his legs over the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Iona heard the shower start.

  She picked up a towel, wrapped it around her, and went back to her room. She checked the room for anything she might have emptied out of her suitcase, threw in a few toiletries, plopped her cowboy hat on her head, and went downstairs to find Clint.

  Manny took a look at her as she stood, small and so very young in the doorway of the kitchen, and pulled her into a hug.

  “Ah, mija, it will be so much better for you later. Today it hurts. In years to come, it will be a sweet memory,” Manuela said. “Clint, get her stuff and take her home to her familia. She needs comfort. When you come back, we will have menudo, tequila, and talk.”

  “Please, God, Manny, let’s drink, but let’s not do the menudo or tequila. I’ll bring you some white lightning. It’s the same thing.” Iona laughed, kissed the older woman on both cheeks, and followed Clint, lugging her luggage, out the door.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Eager to Stay

  Iona didn’t cry in the car, or on the plane going back to Richmond, nor did she cry as she chatted with Cyn on her cell on the porch of her small home where the limo driver dropped her, but that night when she woke about 2:00 a.m. and felt lost without CJ’s body beside her, she cried. She cried through the rest of the night and continued through breakfast so that Buster and Bunny hid in the living room, mournfully watching her as she sat at the breakfast table literally sobbing in her juice.

  She stopped by 4:00 p.m. but she looked like she’d gone a few rounds with
Mike Tyson, eyes and cheeks swollen to hideous proportion and nose red and dripping. She laughed at her lovesick face, took a long shower, placed a wash cloth with ice on her eyes, and slept until about nine.

  She waited for the sun to go down before she brought out her trusty pipe, packed it with her best home grown and watched the sun set over the mountain. She’d already herded the geese back to their pen, looked for the damn goat who, as usual, she could hear but not find, and fed Buster and Bunny. The dogs lay at her feet, with looks of doggie worry crossing their face from time to time.

  As she smoked, Iona wondered why she hadn’t done it earlier. It mellowed her and made her relax. She could think of CJ without tears, plus she could relive all the mind-blowing sex of the past week and not touch herself. She didn’t want to masturbate because it seemed so much less than what she’d shared with CJ. CJ was the shit. She laughed. She was stoned. Buster always looked like he was smiling, but now Bunny joined him.

  “I’ve been kind of a Debbie Downer today, huh, guys?” Iona said to her two companions. They, of course, nodded their agreement and followed her into the house, watched her as she closed and locked the doors and windows. Bunny stayed downstairs in her chair, while Buster took up his position on the floor on his pillow.

  Iona checked her e-mail, nothing from CJ but there was an indicator blink for a waiting IM. She knew it was CJ but hesitated before she clicked on it.

  CJ@OKEY: Hey, Lil Bit. I can see you’re finally online. I miss you. Ready to come home yet?

  Iona@Pangloss: How are you? How’s Manny, Clint, and Marcus? Tell them I said hello. I am home.

  CJ@OKEY: Marcus is fine. He and Cheryl went back to the South of France. Manny is fine. I fired Clint for taking you back to those damn mountains of yours. How’s your family and the menagerie?