Desire's Golden Dreams (2 page)

Hannah threw herself facedown on her bed. One kiss and her body burned for sex. Not ordinary sex. She wanted, no, craved, rough sex with a cock inside every orifice of her body. She couldn’t stay still. The quilt rubbing her hardened nipples stimulated her. The movement of plopping on the bed scrunched her jeans against her pussy and made it throb. She grabbed one of the four posters to sit up. It became a phallic symbol in her hand. She scooted off the bed and ran to the window forgetting for a moment it was nailed shut as were all the windows. The ancient house had been climate controlled for years now and the windows barred for protection.

She ripped off her clothes and undid her ponytail on the way to the shower. The jets aimed at every part of her body were like electric shocks to her unsettled nerves. Scrubbing her hair and scalp didn’t help. Every touch to her own body only stimulated her throbbing pussy more. It needed a cock inside it. She needed good, hot sex. After toweling off, she slipped on sweats, no underwear, just sweats and sneakers and a ponytail holder.

A vigorous run on the track girding a series of tennis courts out back should return her to a normal state. The shaded area of the track that snaked through a copse of trees gave her pause. It reminded her of being in the mine. It reminded her of the kiss. The memory made her nipples pucker. She stopped to take her pulse and found it elevated more than her short run warranted. A bench placed for just this circumstance was around the next bend. It was there, but occupied—by Bolt. Oh, thank heaven, a cock.

“Man, am I glad to see you. How’d you know I’d be running?”

“I know your moods and something was bugging the hell out of you on the way home from the mine. I checked the stables first and when Beauty was in her stall stuffing her face with hay, I figured you’d be here trying to run off whatever was eating at you.”

“That’s one of the many reasons I love you. You can read me like no one else. Read this.” Hannah whipped her sweatshirt over her head and pounced on Bolt.

“Hey, this is a stone bench I’m sitting on.”

“Then roll me over and fuck me missionary style. I’ll be glad to take the bruises to my backside, only hurry. I need this.” She stripped off her sweatpants.

“Hey, slow your roll. I’m not going to do that. You’d be crushed. What’s wrong with you? You have several good mattresses only a few yards away in that mansion you live in.”

“Don’t ask questions. Just stick your cock in my pussy, now, dammit.”

“I love when you talk dirty and your wish is my command.” Bolt unzipped his shorts. “Straddle me.”

She slid onto his cock and closed her eyes with a huge satisfied sigh. “Egad, that feels good. Come here, Brady. I want you, too.”

Bolt paused. “What did you say?”

Hannah kept her eyes closed and didn’t answer. Bolt grasped her hips and manipulated them into the rhythm they’d established long ago.

Hannah’s head thrashed back and forth. “Not like that. It’s not enough. I want it hard and fast.”

He moved faster until she climaxed and wiggled off his lap. He zipped up and grinned at her. “Since when do you like it hard and fast? You always made me go slow before. And who the hell is Brady, Babe?”

“Brady? What are you talking about?”

“You called out for Brady. And you said ‘egad.’ Where did that come from?”

“I never said ‘egad’ in my life and I don’t know anyone named Brady. The only time I ever heard the name was in connection with my great-great-great-grandma.” Hannah pulled her sweats back on. “You must have heard wrong.”

“Oh, it was loud and clear. You said ‘egad.’ And you called to Brady.”

“I didn’t say it. I’ve never said it. And I didn’t call Brady.”

Bolt adjusted his jeans. “Okay, cupcake. Maybe you need a good night’s sleep. I’m going to run back down the hill and sleep in my own bed. Dad’s picking me up early to look at some ranch cattle that are off their feed.”

“And your mother’s all right with you taking off for the ranch again?”

“She has nothing to say about it now my internship is completed and I’m earning money. Her only comment was that she hoped the beasts had foot-and-mouth disease and Dad caught it.”

Hannah ran her fingers through her tangled ponytail as she watched Bolt take off. Had she really said “egad” and called out “Brady” while making love to Bolt? Did she really meet a ghost in the mine? And did he really kiss her? She shrugged. At least her nerves had settled and she was herself again, she hoped.

* * * *

Bolt slipped in the side door that led to his private wing of his mother’s house. This was where he called home when he visited her. In his royally outfitted bedroom, he shook his head at the unbridled opulence. He could easily live with his mother’s outrageous taste in decor and save the shocking sum he paid for his dinky apartment downtown. The move would help pay off his loans and bring him closer to marrying Hannah. But then he’d have to deal with his mother on a daily basis. He was not about to subject himself to that.

Living here had lots of pros and one big, huge con, his mother’s controlling nature. He wouldn’t have these vet school bills if she’d continued to pay his college fees from his trust fund. By some quirk of his grandfather’s will, his mother had control until he turned thirty-five, eight more years.

She would have been delighted to dole out money for Yale, Harvard, or Oxford if he’d studied something other than veterinary medicine. Dealing with large animals put him in his father’s camp, according to Alice May Grant-Carmody. And anything that even remotely smacked of ranching infuriated his mother.

She had married the cowboy, Buckminster Carmody, in a fever of lust. Ranch life soon lost its caché and the novelty of being wed to a cowboy gradually lost its glamor. She couldn’t change him—not “Plucky Bucky” as she now referred to him. Instead she divorced him, left the ranch, and took possession of her ancestral home while her father was on his death bed. To give her credit, she nursed her father for months before he succumbed to the cancer riddling his body.

Bolt loved both his parents, but they couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Although he was fast approaching thirty, he felt like a kid being shuttled between parents with joint custody. He pulled off his clothes and buried himself under the shower spray. Hannah always was, and always would be, his salvation and all he needed in life.

The memory of her naked body in the woods a few minutes ago brought a silly grin to his face and to his heart. The way she straddled him and madly rode his cock made the dang thing rise again. He turned the water to cold. That got him out of the shower quickly and into a tee and the lounging pants his mother insisted on in her house. No one would be wandering her halls in underwear.

He couldn’t keep his mind on anything but Hannah. The way she spaced out and said things she couldn’t recall was odd for a woman with an MBA. She might be coming down with the flu or something. He grabbed his cell and texted her. “R u ok?”

She answered immediately. “K and going to a movie with Melia. Sleep well. Luv u.”

Her curt message did not relieve Bolt’s mind. About to dress and run over to see her, a knock on his door turned him to ice. Not tonight. He could not deal with his mother tonight.

“I’m in bed, Mom.” He hopped into bed hoping she’d hear the mattress creak or something.

She opened the door and came in anyway. “Good, then we can talk with no distractions.”

He had to smile as she sat on the bed down by his feet. She looked, as always, like a character straight out of
The Great Gatsby
. She favored pastel, waistless dresses with a rope of long pearls. This evening’s selection was pink with three rows of ruffles at the hem.

“Why in bed so early? It’s not yet ten.” Alice patted his feet.

“You know why. Four a.m. comes awfully early.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re not a saddle bum. You’re a doctor and could get there anytime convenient to you.”

“Is there something else you wanted to talk about, Mom?”

“Yes, dear. I saw you running across the yard to the Janes residence next door. You’ve been spending a lot of time with Hannah Janes. I hoped you’d outgrown that infatuation.”

“I love Hannah. Love is not something I wish to outgrow.”

“You know her family has an unfortunate past. Some of her relatives were quite unsuitable. Oh, they have money and travel in the highest circles of society, but no one takes them seriously.”

“I take Hannah very seriously and if she were a derelict living on the street, I’d feel the same way.”

“You do know her parentage is in question.”

“Of course it isn’t. Her parents were married for years before she was born and would still be together if her mother had lived. You knew her mother, remember? She was a gracious woman, and your good friend. You always referred to her as a true lady.”

“I don’t mean her parents. I’m referring to the first Hannah Tolliver who everyone knows had three or four lovers. You can’t be sure who the father was in a case like that.”

“Let me go to sleep, Mom. I’m not going to worry about something that happened or didn’t happen a century ago.”

“You may not worry, but I do. These are my grandchildren we’re talking about.”

“No, you may be talking about them. I’m going to sleep.” He pulled the blankets up to his chin and turned his back to his mother. After a few seconds, she left the room.

* * * *

Hannah dressed in jeans and a tee and pulled on a jeans jacket. “Okay, Melia, I’m ready.”

“Really, Hannah, really? You’re going like that?” Melia swept a hand over her own cropped top showing bare midriff and a flounce of a skirt that skimmed her bottom. She stomped a glitter-spangled, strappy stiletto heel. “How do I meet the man of my dreams if I tag along with a geeky friend who will be totally ignored by all red-blooded males?”

“I’m not trying to attract any men, red or blue or purple blooded.”

“I am. I can’t be seen in the company of a woman who doesn’t even try.”

“What would you have me wear? I’m too tired to argue. I’ll put on anything you say.”

Melia searched the walk-in closet and came out with a sheer, white blouse and a short white skirt and red, distressed leather boots. “Put these on.” She laid the clothes on the bed. “Sweep your stupid ponytail to one side and skinny these boots up your thighs.”

Hannah groaned but dressed in the outfit Melia chose. “Happy, now?”

“Your hair?”

Hannah tugged her ponytail to one side of her head. “That’s all I can do. Is it enough to attract your Mr. Right?”

“It’ll have to do, I guess. And I’m not looking for Mr. Right. I’m looking for Mr. Right Now.”

“This outfit will probably get me arrested,” Hannah mumbled. “Okay. Now,
quid pro quo
time. Will you do me a favor tomorrow?”

“Anything, sweet cheeks.” Melia appeared to be studying Hannah’s bottom.

Hannah tugged the hem of the short skirt. “I need some space tomorrow. My dad’s in his computer room. Go down and tell him I’ll be staying at your house tonight and that tomorrow we’re going shopping all day.”

“Are we?”

“No, I have somewhere to go tomorrow and my dad would have a fit if he knew.”

“Where? Can I come with?” Melia bounded down the stairs.

“To the mine and no, you can’t come.”

Melia ran into the room where Walter Janes sat at his computer. He put down the papers in his hand when he saw her.

“Daddy, Walt, I’m kidnapping your daughter for a couple of days. We have some serious shopping to do.”

“Okay, girls, have fun.” He waved to Hannah who stayed in the doorway because she couldn’t lie to her father’s face. She shook her head at his referring to her and Melia as “girls.” At twenty-four, they hadn’t been girls for years.

Melia turned to Hannah with a thumbs-up signal and a shrug. “Piece of cake,” she whispered as they rushed out of the library, into the vestibule and out the front door. “You driving or am I?”

Hannah drove because she needed her car tomorrow and feared she’d be stranded if Melia hooked up with someone tonight. Halfway through the movie, Melia disappeared into the lobby for the third time and never returned.

Hannah made her way to her car in the dimly lit parking lot. She saw Melia plastered to the side of a grey van with a hunk of a man leaning over her. Hannah watched for a few minutes until the man lifted Melia up to his groin and she wrapped her legs around him. A white scrap of panties flew into the air and Melia’s husky laughter echoed all over the lot. Hannah smiled and left with no real destination in mind. Melia’s parents would ask questions if Hannah showed up there alone. She’d have to wait until Melia got home before going into her house. However, if she waited outside in her car, Melia’s parents might notice and wonder what was going on. Hannah circled the block twice with no sign of the gray van.

Since Melia lived practically across the street from Bolt’s mother, the choice as to where to wait wasn’t difficult if she could manage to get to Bolt without his mother seeing her. This was crazy, since she and Bolt were independent adults, but Hannah tried to avoid his mother whenever possible. The woman peered at her as if expecting a gargoyle to pop out of Hannah’s neck at any moment. She drove her BMW convertible into the circular driveway in front of Bolt’s mother’s house, taking care to leave room for other cars. Before she cut the motor, a van drove up, came to a rolling stop, and out hopped Melia. The van sped off. Hannah drove out of the driveway, parked at Melia’s, and walked over to her friend.