Serenity Falls (13 page)

“You’re
so wet,” he mumbles against my jaw. “Who are you wet for?” The rhythm of his
fingers slows as I gently float back down from pure bliss.

His
husky voice washes over me, making my body twitch with desire. “I asked who you
are wet for.”

“You,”
I breathe out. The way he talks and touches me has my body on high alert. I
would do just about anything he says at this moment to keep this feeling. The
one and only time I ever had sex was quick and almost robotic. I know I
shouldn’t compare, but Jarred didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing. Not
like Wes anyway. He
really
seems to know how to set me on fire.

With
my body lost in the sensations and unbidden lust, I barely feel my panties slip
down over my thighs, over my knees, and the rest of the way down before they
slide off all the way. The telltale sound of foil ripping pulls me out of my
desire-filled fog momentarily. Slowly, my eyes slide open. I’m caged in between
Wes’ arms as he hovers above me. His blue eyes fixed on mine. The amber colored
sunset highlights his sweat glistened body. Without any words spoken, my
fingers graze his skin as I trail feather light patterns down his chest, over
his ribs, and down the insanely hot V until I finally reach my destination.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.

“I’ve
never been so sure of anything in my life,” I whisper as I push his boxer
briefs down over the hard flexed muscles in his ass.

Wes
lifts up and shoves them down the rest of the way, kicking them off. Not
wanting to look like a woman who’s never had sex before, I clench my jaw
together to keep my mouth from falling open when his erection springs free. His
cock is one that porn stars are known for. My eyes fixate on him and his hands
as he rolls the condom on.

He
looks back at me, and our eyes meet as he slowly climbs back over me and
nestles between my legs. Wes’ lips brush against mine as he leans down, taking
command of my mouth. It’s not hurried. It’s sweet and passionate. It’s the
sweetest kiss I’ve ever had, yet it holds so much conviction. Conviction that
he really is making this all about me, my needs and wants. My legs fall further
apart, allowing him more access. With one hand, he lifts my leg and hitches it
around his hip. “Look at me,” he whispers around our kissing. His cobalt blue
ones meet mine. We stay like that for a few short seconds when he begins to
push into me and my breath catches from the pressure. “Damn, Baby, you’re so
fucking tight,” he grits through clenched teeth. Barely inside me, he stills,
and I want to scream and ask him why he stopped. “You’re not a—”

I
give a slight shake of my head to indicate that I’m not. “No. I’ve only been
with one person. And that was only once.” I guess this is something we should
have talked about beforehand, but I’m really not that interested in knowing how
many women have had Wes before me. As his shoulders drop, I can tell he feels
relieved. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,
it is. It just means I’m the luckiest bastard in the world right now. And just
so you know, not tonight, but eventually, I’m going to bend you and break you
and mold you in so many ways that you will not be able to tell where I begin
and you end.” Wes thrusts forward as he fills me to the hilt, and I gasp from
the intrusion. “But tonight, we’re going to do this nice and slow.”

The
smell of bacon, gravy, and eggs wafts throughout the kitchen as Wes and I sit
at the dining room table while waiting for the rest of the volunteers to show
up. It’s nice being here next to him. Just the two of us. His thumb gently
caresses my thigh under the table, and I think back to this past weekend.
Friday night with Wes had been beyond amazing. I had never felt more adored in
my whole life. He not only told me, but also showed me how beautiful he thought
I was. He made sweet, slow, passionate, love to me. I can still feel his hands
clutching my hip as he pushed slowly into me time and time again, savoring the
feel of me. The way he gripped my upper thigh and guided my leg up over his
hip. The strength he possessed while he held our hands above my head, tightly
woven together. My body recalls the way his tongue and lips traced patterns up
my stomach, toward my breasts, along the slope of my neck, and finally found my
lips. It’s as if he was memorizing every shallow breath, gasp, and moan that I
made as he did it. Just thinking about it sends an ache to my core and a smile
to my lips. It was perfect.

Saturday
and Sunday consisted of lots of running around to different stores to stock up
and prepare for the kids to arrive at the ranch. While I was with Mrs. Sandy,
Wes was with Brantley and Mr. Will, working on the ranch and with the horses.
It seems like I had only seen Wes in passing. Jackie called Friday night while
Wes and I were out to say she couldn’t make it until Sunday. Of course, we found
this out on Saturday, and I’ve never seen Wes look so relieved.

On
Sunday, the volunteers slowly started trickling in. Jackie showed up while Mrs.
Sandy and I were unloading the stuff we had bought from Sam’s Club. As soon as
she saw me, she squealed with excitement and dropped all of her luggage to help
us. I had come back out of the house to get the last of the stuff when Liam and
Sarah pulled up in Liam’s older model, dark blue, International Harvester Scout
II with the top off. At that moment, the excitement of the next two weeks ahead
of us actually started to sink in. It was all coming together, and people whom
I loved like family were finally back in my life again. When I’d met them both
last summer, we just clicked. Our personalities meshed well, and although Sarah
and Liam are both older than I am, all three of us are college students.

As
I sip my coffee, Mrs. Sandy says from the kitchen, “Kenleigh, dear, would you
mind helping me get all the plates and stuff together for everyone else? They should
be here soon, or at least they better be, especially since I told everybody to
be here at six sharp.”

I’ve
never seen Mrs. Sandy nervous before. I know this year that the group of kids
we have coming in is larger than last year, but it’s only by five or ten more.
Pots and pans bang on the stovetop while plates and silverware clink against
each other in the sink.

“They
better be here on time, or Mom might blow some shit up,” Wes whispers to me
under his breath.

My
eyes cut to his over the rim of my coffee cup. The thought of Mrs. Sandy
‘blowing some shit up’ brings a smile to my face. I set my coffee cup down and
head into the kitchen to help her. A black and white apron with a pots and pans
design covers her denim capris and coral colored T-shirt. Her blonde hair hangs
loosely, pulled back from her naturally beautiful face. Flour, spices, eggs,
and milk scatter the countertops as Mrs. Sandy rushes around the kitchen
frantically. She continuously wipes her hands on the front of her apron, turns
the sink off and on rinsing utensils, and opens different cabinets as she looks
for things. “Mrs. Sandy, it’s okay.” I lay my hand on her shoulder to gain her
attention. “What do you need me to do?”

She
closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When her eyes open, she looks more in
control. “After getting the plates, juice, and everything else, would you mind
washing some of these dishes? I seem to be running out of them, which is hard
to do since I have so many.”

I
smile at her as I try to contain the chuckle that wants to escape. “Yes ma’am.”

“Thank
you,” she says, turning her attention back to the stove.

As
soon as I have everything she needs out on the counter, I turn to the sink,
rinse the dirty dishes, and soak them in the hot, soapy water.

“Need
some help?” Wes’ deep timbre startles me, sending tingles down my spine.

I
hadn’t even heard him move from the table to stand behind me. I barely turn my
head to look at him. I nod. “Yeah, thanks.” I scoot over making room for him.

“Are
you nervous about these next two weeks?” Wes asks as he rinses the dish I just
handed him.

“No.
I’m more excited than anything. I always have so much fun with the kids.” I
smile a genuine smile at him. The soapy water trickles down my arms toward my
elbows when I hand him another dish. “What about you?”

“Honestly?
A little. I haven’t been around a group of kids in quite a while,” he answers
quietly.

Huh,
the confident, big, badass, bull rider is nervous and I can’t help but melt a
little more for him. “That makes sense, but I know you’ll do fine. Trust me. Is
it hard for you to be around… you know… kids with disabilities?” It would make
sense, knowing that he and his cousin were so close before he died.

He
stares into the sink full of water before he answers. “It used to, but not so
much anymore. I’ve come to accept the fact that, even though I miss Colt, I
know he’s no longer suffering. I look back now and thank God that I got what
little time with him I did.” He shrugs his shoulders while drying a plate.

I
do not know what to say, so I just nod. There are really no words of comfort
that I’m sure he hasn’t heard. I’ve heard them all myself. I have learned over
time that sometimes silence can be just as comforting.

We’re
pulled out of our moment when the porch door swings open. Jackie, Liam, Sarah,
and a few of the other volunteers wander in, stretching and yawning as they
murmur good morning.

“Good
mornin’. How did everyone sleep?” Mrs. Sandy asks as she puts the final touches
on breakfast.

“Very
well. Thank you,” Jackie answers as she gives me a pointed look. I’m taken back
by her demeanor. When she arrived on Sunday, she was so excited that we were
going to be bunking in the same room again like last summer. The silence that
grew between us when I told her I that Mrs. Sandy offered me to stay in the
main house quickly became awkward and uncomfortable. After that statement,
she’s barely spoken to me. I figured she would have gotten over it after a
night of sleeping on it, but I guess not.

“Some
of the best sleep I’ve had in a while Mrs. S. Did you get new mattresses this
year?” Liam replies as he pulls out a chair from the table and takes a seat.

“Nope,
not new mattresses, but I did put those memory foam toppers I’ve been hearing
about on the beds.”

“Well,
I think they’re awesome Mrs. Sandy,” Sarah replies while walking into the
kitchen.

“Good.
I’m glad to hear that. All right y’all, breakfast is done. Come help
yourselves.” Mrs. Sandy slips her apron off and hangs it on a hook next to the
fridge.

In
seconds, the kitchen is full of people loading food onto their plates. We all
banter back and forth, joke about not taking too much gravy, and laugh about
how everyone needs to share the eggs. Wes gripes at Liam for taking too many
slices of bacon, and as I reach for the last piece, Wes grabs it up, grins at
me, and shoves half of it in his mouth. Two can play at that game. I reach up,
snap off the other half, and take a bite. His eyes go wide in shock. I smile
sweetly at him as I chew, then turn, and walk away.

After
we sit at the table and start to eat, Mrs. Sandy begins to speak. “So, this
year, Will and I thought we’d do something a little different.” Once she sees
that she has caught our attention, she continues. “This year we will be pairing
Liam, Sarah, Jackie, and Kenleigh up to work with specific kids. The rest of
y’all will be working with groups just like last summer. We’ve already assigned
everybody. I only have one question, and that is how do y’all feel about this?”

It’s
quiet for a few minutes while we all ponder the idea. I lay down my fork and
lean back in my chair. “Personally, I think it’s a great idea. It gives us more
one on one time with the kids. Will we be changing kids every day?” I ask.

“No.
The child that you’re paired with will be with you for the duration of the camp.
Listen, Will and I thought long and hard about this. We really believe this is
a great idea for all of you. These kids are all special, and I think you can
learn just as much from them as they can from you,” Mrs. Sandy answers as she
looks at each of us. This is something she is certain of and really cares
about.

“Who
do I have?” I ask with a smile. I know everyone else thinks this is a good
idea, too. The thought is just a little intimidating since we’re used to
working with a group of kids.

“Okay,
so, Kenleigh, you have Bailey. She’s a twelve-year-old girl who lost her
seventeen-year-old brother in a car accident six months ago. They were very
close, and her parents tell me her depression has gotten worse over the past
couple of months. They’re hoping that this will help her return to her normal
self.”

I feel all of the blood drain from my face. The loud thudding in
my ears drowns out all the sounds from everyone else. My heart stampedes like a
herd of buffalo on the move. It’s as if I have been transported back in time.
Back to the summer vacation home that we had in Conroe. Back to the fire. Back
to the night that I watched my parents die. Black spots begin to cloud my
vision. I want to scream, but I can’t breathe. The smell of burnt wood assaults
me. I know this isn’t real. Horrid visions from that night hold me hostage. The
insufferable pain that I felt years ago tears at my soul all over again. I do
not want to feel the deep aching pain of being alone again. Acutely aware, I
can feel myself moving. To where, I don’t know. “Kenleigh… what… hear… me…”

 It’s
a man’s voice. Wes, I think. My head turns from side to side, as I try to make
sense of what he’s saying, but the memories of my screams from that fateful
night continue to drown him out. “Breathe… Listen to my voice… Breathe…. Come
back to me, Kenleigh.”

The
whispers help me slowly return to the present. I’m no longer in the kitchen.
I’m lying down in my bed with Wes hunched over me. “Breathe, Kenleigh; breathe.
I’m here. I’m here for you. Just breathe,” he whispers softly in my ear. I
smell the wonderful scent of his cologne, and my heart gradually starts to return
to its normal pace.

“What
happened?” I whisper, as I take comfort in his gentleness.

He
pulls back and cages me in with his hands next to my head. Wes’ eyes search my
face and his worried look makes me feel awful. “I could ask you the same
thing,” he replies softly. “All of a sudden, you became really pale and looked
like you were about to pass out. It scared the shit out of all of us. Just
before you fell out of your chair and hit the floor, I caught you and brought
you up here.”

I
turn away from him as my face heats with embarrassment. Of all the times for
this to happen, it had to happen not only in front of Wes, but in front of
everyone else, too. All too soon, I feel his fingers under my chin as he forces
me to look at him. “Are you okay?”

I
cringe as I recall what just happened downstairs. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t
believe that just happened in front of the volunteers, your mom,
you,
” I
whisper while I cover my face with my hands to hide my chagrin. “They’re going
to ask questions, and I don’t have any answers to give them.” Tears well up in
my eyes as I roll over onto my side and turn away from Wes.

 The
bed dips and strong arms envelop me from behind. We lay like that for I don’t
know how long. Wes just holds me, comforts me. He doesn’t push me to say talk.
The death of my parents is
not
a memory I like to think about, let alone
talk about. But I know, at the very least, that I owe him an explanation.
People don’t almost pass out for no reason. I take a deep breath. My voice
cracks and I have to swallow the ball of emotion lodged in my throat. “My
parents died in a horrible house fire when I was twelve, and I had the unfortunate
luck of having to watch it happen.” His arms squeeze me tighter to him as he
inhales a sharp breath. “We were so close. We did everything together. My dad
was my hero, and my mom was the one I turned to for everything. They were my
best friends, and then, just like that, they were ripped away from me.” Warm
tears glide effortlessly down my cheek, over my nose as they spill onto the
pillow.