Applewild (6 page)

Which probably meant he’d also found a partner for the evening.

Monroe sat on top of a wheel well in the truck bed and emptied her bottle. The evening had not gone as planned. She just hadn’t been interested in Rodney, next to Alton. She shouldn’t be interested in Alton, but she was. If she’d opened up to him, they might be somewhere together right now. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t with people she’d known for years, and because of that he’d apparently become more interested in somebody else.

“It looks like your night took a turn.” The only English-accented voice in a fifty mile radius spoke behind her.

“I’m having a fabulous time.” Monroe gave him a wry smile. “Where did you end up?”

“Taking a piss.”

“Really.”

Alton came around to sit on the tailgate, legs dangling off the edge. “Where did you think?”

Monroe didn’t answer. Music still blasted around them. They had to raise their voices to hear each other. Alton looked her way to make sure he hadn’t missed her answer, and she shrugged. His grin told her he already knew. He stood and held out his hand. She let him help her stand. He pulled her close, so their bodies were almost touching, and she raised her eyes to his.

“Did you think I’d gone off with someone else?” he asked.

“It’s not my business.”

“It could be.”

Monroe held his gaze. The MP3 player had been playing a sexy, upbeat song with a Latin vibe, but of course it changed to a melancholy tune about love and liquor just as the tension between Monroe and Alton grew heavy again. And this time he wouldn’t dig into her past. And this time she would have no reason to break the connection.

He surprised her by taking her hand in his again. He linked their fingers and held her hip, guiding her, dancing in a slow circle. He was so close she could smell the beer and cigarettes on his breath—and something else. He’d gotten his hands on whiskey somewhere along the line. She closed her eyes. Her and alcohol. That seemed to be his remedy for Sophie.

She didn’t mind as much as she should.

His hand moved upward, sliding beneath her long blond hair to rest on the nape of her neck. He massaged the spot gently, melting her tension, making her knees weak. He knew exactly what he was doing. The people around them faded away until they were the only ones in existence.

Alton leaned in and kissed her lips once, sweetly, then pulled back. She knowingly fell for the ruse and followed his mouth, standing on her tiptoes to drink in more of the sensual caresses until she couldn’t be sure who was kissing who, caught in a delicious game of give and take.

She pushed Alton’s jacket off his shoulders, and he removed her blazer. She ran her fingertips over his t-shirt, exploring the muscles of his chest and abdomen through the fabric, grasping his solid arms. The air between them was pure electric. Sensation assaulted Monroe’s body as it never had before, leaving her short of breath and aching for release. Alton groaned into her mouth as her hands caressed him, and his own palms slipped under her shirt, creeping up the smooth flesh of her back. Her hips were locked against his, and she could feel his erection straining against his jeans.

She didn’t resist as he lowered them both down into the bed, out of sight for the most part, although she remained vaguely aware of the fact she’d just turned her nose up at Rodney for doing just what they were about to do. Alton straddled her hips and moved his lips to her neck. The stubble on his cheeks grazed her flesh, adding more sensation and making her squirm with anticipation. She unzipped his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, along with the boxer briefs beneath. He left her for a moment to drag her shorts down and off her legs. She kicked off her boots and helped him slip off her hip-hugger panties.

Monroe hoped he wouldn’t strip her further. Her legs and arms were scar free. Her chest and abdomen weren’t. He’d ask for an explanation, and she’d balk again. He slid his hands up her calves to her thighs, leaning down to kiss her just above the vee of curls that shielded her womanhood from view. Then his hands reached for the hem of her shirt. She bit her lip and stopped his hand, hoping she could pull this maneuver off without killing the mood.

She pulled one hand to her mouth, bringing his body with it, and kissed the heel before taking his thumb in her mouth, tasting the salt of his skin, and purposely teasing him, trying his patience. His eyes darkened, his passion obvious. She guided his other hand south, placing his fingers on the sweet spot at the apex of her warm, moist folds. He groaned deep in his throat and gave in to her silent request, moving his fingertips in firm, calculated circles.

Monroe closed her eyes. She was ecstatic. He was too good at this. He knew just how to move at just the right pace. She squirmed beneath him, the air reaching her lungs in delightful gasps.

And this was just foreplay. She knew joining him completely would surpass any pleasure she’d ever known.

But she wouldn’t. Not tonight. She’d lose herself, and he’d see all of her. So she tugged the glove off her left hand and placed her right around the back of his neck. She pulled his lips to hers and reached down to grasp his thick erection. His warm, velvety member pulsed enticingly against her hand as she began pumping him, bringing the loose flesh of his foreskin up and over the head with each stroke. Her grip was firm but gentle. His gasp landed feather-light on her lips, giving her a rush, exciting her even more. A drop of moisture escaped the tip of his penis, and she used her thumb to disperse it, adding slick lubricant to her ministration.

“God, Monroe,” he groaned.

His eyes closed. He thrust eagerly into her hand but never lost his focus on her pleasure. His fingers moved faster and harder on her slippery clit.

Excitement rippled through her body, igniting a flame deep in her belly that threatened to explode. And, God, she wanted that explosion. She grasped his hair in her gloved hand and bucked her hips. His fingers slipped, but he replaced the pressure quickly with the heel of his hand, pressing down and continuing the circular motion that drove her crazy. Monroe’s muscles clenched once and she moaned an unintelligible warning of her impending climax.

He plunged a finger deep into her wet warmth, finding the right spot within her body as if he’d designed it. The orgasm was intense, shuddering through Monroe’s every nerve, and she quickened her hand on his shaft, urging him to come over the edge with her. He adjusted his position slightly so he could grab the nearest item of clothing—her underwear—and catch the stream of cum that jetted from his trembling body.

He tossed the sticky, used panties aside and collapsed next to her. He hiked up his pants, and she wriggled into her shorts, but they were both too spent to bother buttoning. She rested her head on his chest, still trying to catch her breath, thankful for the cool night air. Alton twirled a cigarette between his fingers but didn’t light it. They lay in silence for a long time, the vibration of Wayne’s subwoofer lulling their exhausted bodies into a doze.

*

Monroe’s eyes opened to find gray light filtering through the trees and corn stalks around them. She bolted upright. Big mistake. She put a hand to her head and fought back the alcohol-induced nausea. Alton was still next to her, snoring softly, his arm thrown over his eyes so he remained unaware of the impending dawn. At least her sleep had been nightmare-free. That was one pleasant side effect of drifting off by way of sex and alcohol.

But why didn’t Wayne wake them up? She looked around. Four trucks and one car were left around the smoldering embers of the fire. Two guys had passed out in lawn chairs. Wayne and his girlfriend were nowhere to be found. Monroe ran a hand through her hair and looked down at Alton again. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to wake him or just leave without a word. She didn’t see Rodney, but she guessed he’d gone home with a girl. She checked her phone. A text message said the keys to the farm truck were in the ignition.

She shook Alton’s arm. He grunted and began the slow process of waking up. Monroe could tell by the way he squinted and the grimace on his lips he wasn’t feeling so good, either.

“I have to work this afternoon,” she said before any morning-after awkwardness could set in. “I’m gonna get going.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and opened one eye. He was a sexy, disheveled mess. Her eyes were drawn to his still-unbuttoned pants and what lay beneath. She could feel that heat rising in her again.

Time to go.

She put on her boots and blazer and stood, pausing as she fought a dizzy spell.

“We slept here?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” he groaned.

“What? Do you have some place to be?”

“No.” He sat up. “But anyone could have come by. Anyone could have taken pictures or…shit. It’s not good.”

Monroe glanced around. They couldn’t be seen from the road. Wayne’s MP3 player had run out of songs hours ago. No one could know they were here.

“Everyone’s the paparazzi, ‘Roe,” he reminded her quietly, as if he knew what she was thinking.

“Oh, you mean my friends?” She asked. She knew her people, even if he didn’t. She climbed out the back of the truck.

“I had friends, too, you know. Before I had my career. And I trusted them.”

Monroe paused, her irritation giving way to sympathy. “I’m sorry. I know I’ll never understand what it’s like to be you.”

“See you at the farm,” Alton said.

Monroe nodded and headed for her truck. It was harder to walk away than she’d expected.

VII

Alton watched Monroe go. He lit the cigarette he didn’t want to smoke in front of her last night. The evening hadn’t ended at all the way he’d anticipated. He hadn’t planned on having sex with her, exactly; they both just seemed to know it was inevitable. But she’d turned the tables on him, taken control even while he was on top of her, straddling her slim figure, smelling the sweet musk between her thighs.

Something about her ability to do that excited him, added to the intrigue. And although he’d been placated by her skilled touch, he was far from sated. He wanted her again. And this time he wanted more than a touch and a taste. He wanted that perfect, aerial view of her body and soul as he took her to the brink of ecstasy and followed her over the edge.

Alton crushed his cigarette in the bottom of the truck bed. He needed to stop thinking about it. He was in danger of giving himself an erection that had nothing to do with the morning.

He stood, stretched, and hopped down from the truck. His head was killing him. Getting back to Applewild for food, water, and more sleep became his top priority. When Monroe’s truck revved, one of the lawn chair occupants snorted awake. Alton hadn’t caught his name, but he waved as Alton passed by to get to the farm truck. They all seemed like good people. But good people could justify doing bad things.

Alton started the vehicle and looked up in time to glimpse Wayne and his girlfriend stumbling out of the woods. Clearly, he and Monroe hadn’t been the only ones to slip into a post-sex coma.

He took the bumpy path through the field until he hit blacktop. The way back to Applewild was easy enough to remember, but it was long and winding. In the daylight, he could see lush fields and forest on all sides. The scent of late-blooming honeysuckle reached his nose. Madison had been right to suggest this place. In this small town, it was easy to forget the drama with Sophie—as long as he stayed away from media outlets.

Alton punched in the entry code at Applewild’s front gate and drove back to the barn. He left the keys in the ignition and glanced up at the second story window. The building was quiet except for the occasional snort or stamp of a hoof from the horses. He guessed Monroe was already asleep.

He considered walking up those stairs, knocking on her door, and taking her to his imagination’s content. But even though his fantasies were wide awake and willing, his body was exhausted.

He walked back to the main house, let himself in, and saved his impure thoughts of Monroe for later.

*

Alton woke up for good around one o’clock in the afternoon. He brushed his teeth and took a long, cool shower, washing away the last traces of dirt and sweat from his romp with Monroe. He dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and went downstairs to the kitchen. Elsa had meatloaf and mashed potatoes on a plate for him. He grabbed a glass of water and took his lunch out to the patio.

He sat in his usual spot and lit a cigarette. The outside was cool and quiet. He slouched in the rocking chair and blew a puff of smoke. It was hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago he’d lost his cool over seeing Sophie with that prick. Now he could barely bring himself to care. He couldn’t say for sure his focus wouldn’t switch back once his desire for Monroe had been fulfilled, but for now he felt good.

He put out his cigarette and ate. As he downed his water, he saw Monroe pushing a wheelbarrow through the open barn doors and around the side of the building. He left his empty dishes where they were and descended the patio stairs to the dirt lane. Monroe saw him coming and stopped what she was doing. She brushed the dirt off her gloved hands.

“Hey,” she greeted.

She was back in her usual jeans and flannel shirt. Her hair was pulled back again, and there wasn’t a trace of makeup. Still, just looking at her turned him on. He remembered what she felt like, smelled like. He remembered that heavy-lidded gaze and lips parted with pleasure. The only thing giving him pause was the way her feet dragged and the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hey, you look…” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to continue. “…tired?” he finished.

“Thanks.” She turned away and rolled the empty wheelbarrow down the center aisle to the next set of stalls. He stood outside while she used a pitchfork to sift out manure. “Jamal quit today.”

“Your stable hand?”

“My
only
stable hand. So instead of taking the morning to recover like I’d planned, I was on the phone with his ass trying to get him to come in to work after he didn’t show up at six a.m.”

“That’s really rotten.”

“Wish I could say it was surprising. He didn’t want to be here lately. That much was obvious. But I expected him to give two weeks’ notice before calling it quits. Not land me with the morning chores when I’m hung over.”

“I could help,” Alton offered.

She looked at him like he was ridiculous, which he found a bit offensive. She thought he couldn’t get down and dirty?

“I do recall you asking me to load a hundred pounds of ice into your truck,” he reminded her.

“That was for our mutual benefit. And we were off the farm. You’re a guest here. I’m not going to have you cleaning up horse shit.”

“But you’ll fuck me.”

She stopped what she was doing and stared at him. She didn’t seem to know whether to be offended or amused by his frankness. “I didn’t fuck you.”

“You will.” He grinned, overconfident but feeling well within his right.

She tried to hide a smile and went back to mucking out stalls. “Maybe.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Grab a pitchfork. Cecil’s stall needs to be mucked out.”

Alton found the tool by the feed room door and started working in the stall next to Monroe. He didn’t mind, really. Hard labor was yet another welcome distraction from his woes. And he was doing it with his distraction of choice.

It didn’t take long for them to fill the wheelbarrow again. Monroe disappeared briefly to dump it. He helped her pitch fresh straw into the stalls and watched her water the horses. Then she wiped her brow and sat on a bench just outside the barn doors with a bottle of water. He leaned on the door frame farthest from her and lit a cigarette.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“I’ll round up the horses and give them dinner in a few hours. I’m too damn tired to exercise them today.”

“Why do you need to?” Alton asked as he rolled his cigarette out and sat next to her. “Don’t they just run around out there?”

“They
eat
out there.” Monroe brought the water to her lips again. “This time of year the apples are starting to fall off the trees by the back pasture. The horses just hang out there and get fat.”

“They’ve got it pretty good.”

“They do. So do I.”

Monroe stood and stretched. Her button-down shirt rode up slightly, giving Alton the quickest glimpse of her fair flesh. She seemed to realize he was looking and tugged down on the hem of her shirt.

“What’s with the modesty?” he teased.

Monroe’s eyes flitted away from his, confusing him. Once again, he felt like he’d said the wrong thing. But she smiled at him, reassuring him without satisfying his curiosity.

“I’m going to take a nap,” she said. “Finally. Thanks for your help.”

“I want to see you tonight.”

Monroe turned, fidgeting with the water bottle. Her fingers were gloved again—work gloves, so he couldn’t even see her slender fingers. “Okay.”

“Do you want to go out somewhere?”

“Do you?”

“Not really.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“Can we get pizza out here?”

“We have to pick it up at the front gate, but yeah.”

“Then we’ll do that.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” She waved as she turned back to the barn and then disappeared. He heard her footsteps on the stairs and saw a light turn on briefly through curtains in the loft window.

Alton shoved his hands in his pockets and lingered. If he went back to the house, he’d drink. He wasn’t keen on watching TV. He didn’t want to chat with family or friends. He didn’t want to go out again. In the end, he found himself going for a long walk around the back of the property.

The air was cool, but the sun warmed his skin. He followed a dirt trail flanked by sweet-smelling, overgrown grass around the expansive fence of the back pasture. Birds chirped in the treetops and bugs buzzed unseen in the underbrush. Sure enough, he came across the horses tugging apples off of low-hanging branches. He wasn’t sure of the farm’s acreage, but by the time he looped the enclosure, he was short of breath. He realized and ignored the irony as he paused to light a cigarette.

He leaned against the fence and puffed, resting his eyes on the barn. He saw a light on in Monroe’s room, and her shadow moved behind the lace curtain. She hadn’t taken much of a nap—maybe an hour at most. Desire flared. He didn’t want to wait. She had time now.

Before he could make a move, his phone rang. It was Madison.

“Hello?” he answered, smoke escaping with his words.

“Hi, Alton.”

He could already tell she had bad news, but he headed her off. “I already know, Mads.”

“You do? How?”

“They had a TV on in the bar last night.”

“It already leaked?”

“Yeah. Anyone could have seen it coming, really. Desperate, drama-driven girls can rarely stand to be single for long. I didn’t think this prick would leave his wife for her, but she
is
a super model.”

“I’m glad you’re handling it so well.”

“What’s not to handle? I’m sure she’s taking him to Morocco with her. They can have their happy little vacation and make a happy little love nest. I give them a month.”

Madison was quiet. Dread settled heavily in Alton’s chest.

“Oh, Alton. You
don’t
know,” Madison said. “See, it just happened last night. And I wasn’t even sure I should tell you except I thought it might be better coming from a friend, and I’m sorry if that wasn’t the right choice to make. I mean, you are out there to be away from this bullshit.”

“What are you going on about?”

“Do you want to know?”

“For Christ’s sake, Madison, spit it out.”

“They’re getting married, Alton.”

He froze. The cigarette fell from his fingers, and it wasn’t until the smell of burning rubber reached his nostrils he had the sense to kick it off of his shoe and stomp on it.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I wish. I’m sorry.”

Alton didn’t know what to say. He ran a hand over his face and lit another cigarette with shaking fingers. He shouldn’t be this affected by the news. He shouldn’t feel this hurt, this outraged. What was the difference if they were fucking or fucking and holding hands or fucking and married? This probably meant they’d been seeing each other for a while. A
long
while. Behind his back. It didn’t change anything. It didn’t change the fact that they were over.

But knowing beyond question that emotion had been involved in their affair was another hard slap in Alton’s face.

“I’m really sorry, Alton.”

“Thanks, Madison.”

“You can stay at Applewild however long you want. And I’ll have some free time in a week. We could come for a visit. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know. Bye, Mads.”

“Bye, Alton.”

He ended the call and stared at the barn. No amount of cigarettes or alcohol could tamp down the feeling of pure, unadulterated betrayal swirling within him. But he had something better. Forget the date. Forget charming Monroe. It was all just a means to an end, an end she’d admitted to wanting, too. He finished his cigarette as he closed the distance to the big red building. He entered through the back, just in time to find Monroe coming out of the feed room, tugging on those damned gloves. Her initial smile faded quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

He hesitated just long enough for her to read him, to understand exactly what he wanted from her and stop him. But those eyelashes dropped and those plump lips parted and he took that as permission. He brought his lips down possessively against hers, needing to feel in control of
something
. Her pert breasts pressed into his chest; she held the front of his v-neck t-shirt in a death grip. He splayed his hands across her ass and pressed her hard against him. Their tongues danced, tasted, explored. He slid one hand under the back of her shirt, relishing in the feel of her smooth skin.

His lips moved to her neck, the sweet scent of hay mixing with the taste of salt. She trembled against him, one hand in his hair and the other on his back. Her hips moved in a slow grind against his. He doubted she even knew she was doing it, but it drove him crazy. All he needed was a dark corner—someplace to pull her pants down and release his frustrations in the best way.

“Upstairs,” he said.

She looked as though she might want to ask for an explanation, but Alton nudged her toward the door with his knee, shifting his erection against her thigh, reminding her of the task at hand. He moved with her, their lips never fully parting, stumbling through the feed room and half way up the stairs until she finally lost her footing and sat down hard.