Roaring fork rooker, p.17
Roaring Fork Rooker, page 17
“Come here,” I said, standing at the end of the bed, waiting to see if she’d respond to me the way she used to.
Echo stood in front of me, arms at her sides. I unfastened the buttons of her shirt and spread it open. Her bra, pink and lacy, was too much of a temptation. I leaned forward, snaked my arm around her waist again, then ran my tongue along the seam that covered her breasts. When her knees buckled, I pulled her closer, holding her weight with mine, then covered one nipple with my mouth, sucking through the sheer fabric.
“JW, please,” she mewled.
Still holding her with one arm, I unfastened the clasp of her bra, then moved each strap from her shoulders. She shimmied it from her body, then reached for the button of her jeans.
“Let me,” I pleaded, falling to my knees. With each one I unfastened, my tongue followed as, little by little, her naked flesh was exposed. I pulled them down her legs, then took in the sight of her. Echo was a vision of desire and nostalgia. Her expression that I’d drowned in so many times before held a mix of trepidation and longing, and I could see the pulse at the base of her throat, a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my own heart.
I stood and traced the outline of her jaw, her neck, down her sternum. My weathered hand was rough against her soft skin that was hot with her desire.
“You are so beautiful, Echo,” I murmured, my voice a low growl. “You take my breath away.”
She smiled, soft but sad. “You always did know what to say to make me want you more,” she whispered.
“Lie on the bed for me.”
Her breath hitched as my hand moved lower, and I could see the goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.
My thumb brushed over the pebble-hard nipple I’d had in my mouth, pinching it gently, just enough to make her gasp and her back arch off the bed. “I never meant to hurt you, Echo,” I said, spreading her legs to rest between them.
“I know,” she whispered, her hands reaching up to pull my head down to hers. Our lips met in a clash of teeth and tongue, a desperate, hungry kiss that left us both panting.
Reaching one hand between us, my fingers brushed through the soft curls at the apex of her thighs.
I could feel her heat and the dampness that betrayed her arousal. I slipped a finger inside and pressed my thumb against her clit. She moaned into my mouth, and her eyes fluttered shut.
“God, you’re so wet. So ready for me.”
I added another finger, stretching her, preparing her. Her muscles clenched around me, and her hips moved in time with my thrusts. I added a third finger, and she cried out, her body tensing as I pressed against her flesh.
“That’s it, baby,” I whispered.
I could feel her body relaxing, opening up to me, thrusting back with increasing urgency. When I curled my fingers, pressing against her flesh, she let out a low moan and her head rocked from side to side.
“JW!” Her eyes met mine. “I need you. Please.”
The words sent a jolt of electricity coursing through me.
I withdrew my fingers, making her whimper at the loss. But her protest turned into a moan of pleasure as I stood, pulled my shirt over my head, unbuckled my belt, pushed down my pants, then stood before her.
“Echo, I haven’t been with anyone for a very long time—”
“Neither have I.” She reached for my cock and wrapped her fingers around it, positioning it at her opening.
My heart pounded in my chest. “Echo,” I whispered, my voice so raw with emotion I couldn’t say what I desperately wanted to.
She reached up with her free hand and cupped my face. “Make love to me, JW,” she whispered. “Make me yours again.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. She released me, and I surged forward, my hips slamming against hers, burying myself deep inside her. We both let out a gasp, our bodies tensing at the sudden intrusion.
“You feel so good,” I groaned, my hips already moving, my cock sliding in and out of her with slow, deliberate thrusts. “So hot and tight. Just like I remember, baby,” I grunted. My hands gripped her hips so I could go deeper.
“Harder, JW. I want to feel you. All of you.”
I obliged, my thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The sound of our flesh meeting filled the room.
I leaned down, capturing one of her nipples in my mouth and swirling it with my tongue.
A low moan escaped Echo’s lips as I suckled her, and her fingers tangled in the silver strands of my hair, pulling me closer. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
My hands dropped from her hips to grip her thighs, spreading her wider for my invasion. I thrust into her harder and faster. The bed creaked beneath us, and the headboard knocked against the wall.
Echo’s eyes were closed, her head thrown back, and her mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure. Her breasts bounced with each thrust, her nipples hard and aching for more. I took the other into my mouth again, my teeth grazing the sensitive peak, then sucked hard as my hips moved in a relentless rhythm that matched the urgent need coursing through my veins. I could feel her body tensing, her muscles clenching around me, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“JW,” she cried out, her hips meeting my thrusts with wild abandon. “God, don’t stop.”
I couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted me to. I was a man possessed, driven by the need to claim her, to mark her, to make her mine again. I could taste her sweat, feel her heat, hear her cries of pleasure.
Each push brought me closer to the edge, to the point of no return. I wanted to hold on, to drag out the moment, but Echo’s body was tightening around me, and her moans were becoming louder, more demanding.
“Harder. I need…I need…”
I obliged without her saying the words. My hips moved like a piston, my cock slamming into her with bruising force. Her body trembled, making me want to send her over, to watch those beautiful eyes roll back in her head as she came undone beneath me.
I reached between us, my fingers finding her sensitive nub swollen. I rubbed it in time with my thrusts.
Echo let out a cry, and her body convulsed as a powerful orgasm tore through her. “JW,” she shouted, her nails raking down my back again.
“Again,” I demanded.
She quivered, and I wanted to savor every second of this, but her mewls of pleasure were like a burning match to my self-control.
“You feel so damn good, Echo.” I shifted my hips, angling my cock to hit that spot deep inside her, the one that made her gasp and writhe. “Is this what you want, baby?” I thrust into her harder, deeper, my cock slamming against her cervix. “Tell me you want more.”
“Yes,” she moaned through clenched teeth. “God, yes. More.”
I pulled back, almost all the way out, before slamming into her again, my hips moving in a relentless, punishing rhythm.
“You like that, don’t you, baby?” I growled. “You like feeling my cock deep inside you, filling you up, making you mine.”
“Yes. You know I do.” Echo nodded, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
She wrapped her legs around my waist, and her heels dug into my ass, urging me on. “Please,” she panted.
I didn’t need further encouragement. My fingers dug into her soft flesh as I held her still and pounded into her.
“That’s it, baby,” I groaned, my voice thick with lust and desire. “Take all of me.”
Echo nodded, her eyes locked onto mine, and her pussy gripped my cock like a vice. “Yes,” she moaned, her voice ragged. “I want all of you. I never stopped wanting you.”
I knew she was close, could feel her tension building. When I made her come for the second time, she convulsed around my cock and her screams filled the room. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed everything, and I took it, roaring her name—Maya, not Echo—as my release left me breathless and sated.
I shifted and lay beside her. Our bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat as we both struggled to catch our breath.
“I’m sorry for calling you Maya,” I said a few minutes later.
“It’s okay.”
“Can I ask what made you decide to go by Echo instead?”
“There was a time in my life when I wanted to be someone very different from the girl you knew. I needed a fresh start, so I left Maya behind.”
“I need you to know that I—”
“Shh.” She pressed her fingers against my lips. “Being with you again was perfect, JW. Just as incredible as I remembered.”
Sex between us had always been wild and passionate. Even the first time, when neither of us knew what we were doing, our bodies innately figured it out. I’d never experienced anything close to it with the few other women I’d been with.
No one was like Echo. No one would ever be. This time, I wouldn’t be so foolish as to let her go. She told me to make her mine again, and I did. Just like she’d made me hers.
The next few weeks fell into a flow that felt surprisingly natural. I split my time between Echo’s house and the guest cabin at Roaring Fork, slowly integrating myself into her daily life while helping at the Roaring Fork.
Echo threw herself back into her work with renewed energy, and I found myself accompanying her to site visits and family meetings when she wanted the support. Watching her with grieving families, seeing how she balanced compassion with practical help, only deepened my respect for the woman she’d become.
One evening in mid-September, we were walking along the Slate River after dinner when certainty hit me like lightning.
“Echo,” I said, stopping on the path.
She turned, immediately picking up on the change in my tone. “What is it?”
I’d been carrying the small box for a week, waiting for the perfect moment. But standing here, in the place where we’d first confronted our past, where she’d fled from me and later let me explain, I realized there was no moment more perfect than this.
“I love you,” I said, dropping to one knee.
Her hands flew to her mouth. “JW—”
“I’ve loved you for thirty years. I wasted three decades, believing my obligations were more important than my happiness, than our happiness.” I pulled out the band with a simple solitaire. “I don’t want to waste another day. Marry me, Echo.”
Tears streamed down her face as she looked from it to my face and back again. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, of course, yes.”
My hands shook as I slipped the ring onto her finger. When I stood, she launched herself into my arms, kissing me with the same joy I felt.
“I can’t believe this is real,” she said against my lips.
“It’s real. We’re real.” I kissed her again and again. Marveling at feeling whole in a way I hadn’t felt since the night before my mother and I got in my truck and drove away from Crested Butte, not knowing if we’d ever return. “I don’t want to wait, my love. I’ve waited too long already.”
“When?” she asked.
“As soon as possible. I’d marry you tomorrow if I could. Today, if you’d agree.”
“I don’t want to delay or rush, but I want to celebrate our love with our families and friends. I want Kingston to be there. Is that okay?”
“As long as I can kiss you, touch you, and feel your naked body next to mine, we’ll already be married in my mind. When it becomes official, it won’t change anything.”
“It can be a simple ceremony…”
Over the following days, we discovered that “simple” was relative when it came to weddings. Echo had friends and colleagues who’d want to attend. I had the entire Wheaton clan plus my staff from Sangre Vista. Simple could still mean fifty people.
“Where should we have it?” Echo asked one evening as we sat in her living room.
“Wherever you want.”
“That’s not helpful.” She nudged me with her elbow. “I’m serious. This is important.”
I’d been thinking about it, actually. “What about Roaring Fork Ranch?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“Unless you’d prefer somewhere else.”
Echo was quiet for a moment, considering. “It would be perfect, JW.” She leaned up to kiss me, and I tasted happiness on her lips. “I love the idea, but we have to check with Flynn and her brothers. They may not want us taking over their ranch for a day.”
I laughed. “Echo, they’ve been plotting to get us together since the Fourth of July, Flynn especially.”
The next day, we drove out to Roaring Fork to present our idea. Flynn took one look at Echo’s ring, and her eyes filled with tears.
“Oh, this is perfect!” she said, pulling us both into a hug. “Getting married here at the ranch will be magical. When are you thinking?”
“Whatever’s practical,” I said. “But as soon as possible.”
“How many people do you anticipate inviting?”
“Maybe fifty,” Echo said.
“The dining hall can easily hold that many. If the weather is nice, the ceremony could be outside…”
Flynn and Echo’s conversation faded into the background as I looked around the room where I’d last seen Patricia alive. My mom and I had risked one last visit to say goodbye. But today, I could feel her presence. I could almost hear her voice, saying how happy she was for us. While my goal had been to complete my promise to her, to ensure her kids were happy and living full lives, I realized now that Flynn’s journey hadn’t been the last. Mine was.
20
ECHO
Isat across from my older sister, Dawn, at our favorite corner table in McGill’s. She studied me with the intensity that had driven me crazy as a child, but now felt like an interrogation.
“You’re glowing,” she said, her smile warm but searching. “I haven’t seen you this happy in…well, maybe ever.”
My hands trembled around my coffee cup as I attempted a smile. “Not for a very long time anyway.”
“JW makes you happy.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “He does. More than I thought possible.”
When she reached across the table and squeezed my hand, I resisted the urge to pull away. “I’m so glad you two found your way back to each other. When you told me he’d returned, I wasn’t sure what to think. But seeing you now…”
“What?” The word came out sharper than I’d intended.
Dawn’s eyes flared. “You look like yourself again. The person you were before everything went sideways all those years ago.”
“That feels like a lifetime ago,” I murmured.
“It was.” Her tone grew more serious, and I knew what was coming. “Echo, does JW know? About what happened after he left?”
My stomach clenched. I’d been dreading the question even though I was certain it was coming.
“There’s no reason he needs to know.” The words sounded hollow even to my own ears. “That’s all in the past. The choices I made then were the best for everyone.”
Dawn studied my expression with a penetrating gaze. I looked away, unable to meet her scrutiny.
“If you’re sure,” she finally said, but doubt colored her words.
“I am. We can all continue to live our lives. What matters is what we have now.” The response tasted like ash.
Relief flickered across my sister’s face, followed by genuine excitement that made my chest ache with guilt. “Then, I’m happy for you. Truly. You deserve this, Echo. You deserve love and joy and all the good things life has to offer.”
Did I? Did I deserve happiness built on deception? The knot in my chest tightened until I could barely breathe.
“Thank you,” I managed.
Dawn launched into enthusiastic questions about the ceremony, but her words seemed to come from far away. I answered automatically, mechanically, while my mind spiraled through the same torturous loop it had been trapped in for days.
Tell him. Don’t tell him. Ruin everything. Save everyone.
“Echo?” Dawn’s words cut through my panic. “I asked about the flowers.”
“Flowers?” I blinked, trying to focus. “Oh. Yes. Flynn’s handling everything.”
Lines appeared between Dawn’s brows. “Are you feeling all right? You seem distracted.”
“Just busy.” The lies came easier now, polished by repetition. “The end of the fiscal year always brings stress.”
But even as I said it, I could see she wasn’t convinced. My sister knew me too well, had seen me through too much.
We finished breakfast without her asking any more questions, but I could feel her worried gaze following me as I left the restaurant. My hands shook as I started my car, and I had to sit for several minutes before I trusted myself to drive.
The office felt like a refuge until I realized it wasn’t. The grant applications on my desk might as well have been written in a foreign language. I read the same paragraph five times before giving up and moving to the next file.
My phone rang, startling me so badly that I knocked over my coffee mug.
“Echo West,” I answered, grabbing napkins to clean up the mess.
“Mrs. West, this is Dr. Robbins from Children’s Hospital. We discussed the Patterson family last week?”
I stared at my calendar, panic rising. The Patterson family. Eight-year-old daughter with brain cancer. I was supposed to have processed their emergency assistance request yesterday.
“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry—I’ve been reviewing their file and should have the paperwork completed by—”
“They were discharged yesterday,” she interrupted gently. “The family was counting on our help with the hotel costs.”
The room tilted sideways. I’d forgotten. Completely forgotten a family in crisis, because I couldn’t stop obsessing over my own problems.
“I’m so sorry. Let me call them right away, and—”
“It’s all right. We managed to find alternative funding. But, Echo, this isn’t like you.”
After I hung up, I sat staring at the phone, revulsion washing through me. This was exactly what I’d sworn would never happen. My personal life was affecting my work, and families were paying the price.
