The Road Back to Us Read online

  “Yup. That right there is how I found you two,” Harley chuckles.

  “How did you get here? You didn’t drive, did you?” Bentley questions.

  I sense the hope in his voice that we’ll climb into his big-ass redneck truck and ride off into the sunset.

  Harley drags a kitchen chair out and sits. “Nah. The truck’s back up on the road. I was using the Polaris when I smelled smoke. I knew it was close but I couldn’t get it across the creek. The last quarter mile, I trekked through the snow to get here. It’ll be a bitch to wade through this shit, but once we get to the snowmobile on the other side of the creek, it will be smooth sailing.”

  Bentley and I both sit quietly in shock.

  “Oh, shit. I need to radio this in. Mom will have my ass. I was informed to notify her the moment I found you. She wants to, and I quote, ‘fix y’all a feast’.” He chuckles.

  While he is distracted with checking in with Louise, I look over at Bentley. He’s already downed the snack and an entire bottle of water. Reality is setting in and I’m almost frightened to leave this place now that we’ve grown so close. What if it all disappears the moment we settle back into real life?

  “Care, your worries should be over now,” Bentley murmurs as if reading my thoughts. Then he kisses my temple. “We promised, remember?”

  I nod and lean against him. “I trust you,” I finally whisper.

  “Okay, kids,” Harley’s voice booms. “It’s time to roll out. Pack your shit and let’s go.”

  Together, my husband and I stand.

  Back to reality.

  “I think I ate too much,” I groan as I peel my clothes off.

  Then I get a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and gape in horror. My belly is poking out from the food, but everywhere else on my body is bony. The hair between my legs is overgrown and prickly, matching my legs and under my arms. Blond, matted hair sticks up in every which direction on top of my head. And I’m dirty as hell.

  Bentley saunters into the bathroom from his mother’s guest bedroom already naked. Of course he would look gorgeous, even dirty and half-starved. I look like an abused, homeless rat.

  “Mom went a little overboard on the food,” he agrees as he sidles up behind me.

  I’m still staring at my reflection in disgust when he tickles me.

  “You’re unbelievably beautiful. You know that?” he questions.

  I glare at him in the mirror. “You are such a suck-up. I mean, are you seeing what I’m seeing? I look horrible!”

  He chuckles as he steps away from me and slaps my ass. “It’s going to take a lot more than a few scratches, some dirt, and malnourishment to take away your beauty, Care Bear.”

  I continue gaping at myself in disgust when I hear him turn the shower on. The steam from the shower has finally hidden my reflection.

  The prospect of taking a hot shower almost causes me to squeal in glee. When we first arrived back from our long journey to Louise’s, we were absolutely famished. His mother cried the whole time she served up plates and fussed over us. Her “babies” were finally home. My mom and dad showed up not long after we arrived and worried over us as well, but once they realized we were fine, they encouraged us to go shower and rest. For a second there, I thought Bentley’s mom was going to insist on bathing us herself.

  Thankfully, she did not, but she did promise to have one helluva dinner for us later on.

  Bentley reaches a hand into the shower and tests the water. Once he’s satisfied, he pulls me in after him. The second the spray hits my skin, I cry out in relief. Even though we’ve been here for a little over two hours, my bones still feel cold and hurt. The scalding water massages its way through my battered-from-the-elements skin and eases the aches deep in my body. Together, we stand under the water, wrapped in each other’s arms, without moving. Finally, Bentley breaks the trance and begins cleaning us.

  “Hot showers have to be my most favorite activity in the whole wide world,” I sigh.

  He nods as he drags the sudsy loofa over my breasts. “I completely agree. It’s right above blow jobs in my book.”

  I giggle. “I thought blow jobs were always going to be your number-one favorite activity?”

  He continues his washing of my body. “Well, that was until a hot shower almost gave me the best orgasm of my life,” he jokes. “I guess you better step up your game, wifey.”

  I nearly offer to give him a blow job, but I think that, if I drop to my knees, being as exhausted as I am, I’ll never get back up. Instead, we each wash our own hair, and this time, I’m the one about to orgasm. Who knew using Louise’s Herbal Essences shampoo instead of my forty-five-bucks-a-bottle salon stuff would be more gratifying? I moan just like the commercials as I scrub the grease and film from my scalp and hair.

  While I’m rinsing it out of my hair, I feel something hard against my back.

  “You’re insatiable,” I tease.

  “Why are you moaning in the damn shower, Care? You’re killing me and I’m so fucking tired.”

  He doesn’t make any moves to do anything about his hard-on, and neither do I. We choose to rinse off and end the shower instead. Once I’m all wrapped up in a warm towel, I wobble back over to the mirror. With my palm, I swipe the steam away and peer at my reflection. I’m much more pleased with my look now that I am human once again.

  “Mom said she put your things in the drawer,” Bentley calls out as he runs a towel through his hair.

  His cock is still standing at attention, and I find myself staring at it for a moment before opening the drawer. They must have retrieved our suitcases when they found our car, because all of my toiletries are in the drawer.

  It takes a bit of time to work the brush through my tangles, but eventually, I get my hair smooth again. Bentley has spent at least five minutes brushing his teeth. I giggle as I toss my hair brush into the drawer and grab my own toothbrush. He’s still scrubbing his teeth to a pearly shade of white when I’m finished.

  As I open the drawer to drop it back in there, my eyes land on my birth control pills. It’s been several days since I took one. Picking it up, I wonder how I’m supposed to catch up on them—if I even want to catch up on them. I’m attempting to read the directions when Bentley presses his firm body against my back. He swipes my wet hair away from my neck and kisses me.

  “What are you doing, Care?”

  “I missed some,” I say softly. “I was trying to figure out how to get back on track.”

  He suckles on my neck. “Do you want to get back on track?”

  I bite my lip and let the tears well in my eyes. “Not really.” My voice is a whisper.

  When he wrenches away from me, I’m almost afraid that he’s angry with me. But as he plucks the package from my hand and tosses it in the trash can, I grin. I squeal out when he scoops me into his surprisingly strong arms and strides out of the bathroom toward the bed.

  “Stop! You’re too weak,” I protest but certainly don’t argue too much. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t love it when he carries me.

  “Shush it, woman,” he growls as he tosses me onto the bed. “We’re about to make a baby. And then I have plans for your mouth.”

  I giggle playfully at him until he’s parted my legs and slammed himself into me. My humor dissolves, and pretty soon, we’re trying for a baby. After a couple more baby-making attempts, we crawl under the covers and pass out with our bodies and our hearts intertwined.

  IT’S BEEN FIVE days since we were rescued.

  Five days that I’ve spent every waking moment kissing and touching my wife.

  A whole five days of driving Mom fucking crazy with having to watch us play grab-ass.

  When we first got back, I borrowed my brother’s laptop just once to order a present for Caroline. We’d missed Christmas, but I wanted to start the new year with a gift that showed her how much I am listening to her. And when she rode with Mom to the grocery store, I called my attorney to put a stop to the divorce as well
as look into another project I needed him to handle for me.

  Now, five days later, I haven’t touched my phone or a computer. The only thing I’ve touched is her.

  “Care Bear, wake up,” I murmur as I watch her sleep.

  We’ve grown quite used to staying up all night, completely engrossed in each other, and then sleeping late into the afternoon. I’m sure that drives Mom bananas too, but she hasn’t said a word. Ever since we came clean about how we were on the verge of a divorce, she’s been fully supportive of our reconnecting.

  Caroline’s breathing has slowed, but she is being stubborn and won’t open her eyes. I drag my finger between her breasts and wait to see if she responds. She’s still feigning unconsciousness, but her nipples pebble at the touch. And I’d bet all I have on the fact that she is already growing wet for me.

  “Care Bear,” I singsong. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  When she continues to pretend to sleep, I decide I know just how to wake her ass up. I begin trailing soft kisses along her abdomen toward her now silky-smooth pussy. The moment my wife got her hands on a razor, she eliminated practically every strand of body hair that wasn’t attached to her head. Once I’ve made it between her legs, I part them open. She dramatically lets her knees drop as she bares herself to me. Her little game is cute, but I know better.

  I can hear Mom downstairs, clattering around in the kitchen, working on a late breakfast, possibly even lunch. It’s only a matter of time before she’ll be up here hollering at us to come eat. Little does she know, I’m hungry now.

  Bringing my almost-bearded face close to Caroline’s pussy, I inhale her. She always smells so fucking good. And after having spent several days in the wilderness with her, I realize now that her scent is her, not shampoo or body wash or perfume. No, the sweet, delectable scent is like a drug to me, and I would follow it anywhere.

  I flick my tongue out and probe between the lips of her pussy until I locate the nub of her clit. It’s hot and pulsating already. Just wait until I get her all fired up. I use my thumbs and open her pink flesh so that I’m able to really taste her. My tongue circles around and around in a teasing manner until she’s wiggling on the bed. When I finally glance up at her, she’s on her elbows, staring at me with a lusty, sexy gaze in her eyes. Her hair is a wild mess on top of her head, and I have the desire to yank on it while I fuck her from behind.

  Later . . .

  But right now, I’m focused on her sweet pussy—the pussy that belongs only to me. Always has and always will. Since we’ve been together so long, I know precisely what motions will send her over the edge. And, like the teasing bastard that I am, I withhold taking her over that edge. I want her dripping with want for me.

  “Bentley,” she warns in a kitten-like growl followed by a moan.

  I grin, never slowing my circling, and push a finger into her slick heat. It always amazes me that she’s remained as tight as she was when I took her virginity even though we’ve fucked countless times. I say countless because we never could pinpoint a number even when we tried to guess one time.

  “How many times do you think we’ve had sex?” she questions mid-fuck one day.

  I’m grunting, so close to coming, and have the urge to ignore her until I’ve climaxed. “A bunch,” I end up hissing out between my clenched teeth instead.

  “Hundreds? Thousands?”

  I groan and yank her hair back. A loud moan bursts from her as I slam into her from behind.

  “Shut up while I’m fucking you, woman.”

  She giggles, not at all terrified at my bossy, pissed-off words. When I slap her ass, she lets out a scream of pleasure and her pussy clamps down around my cock. It’s enough to make me come. As my balls tighten, I pull out and stroke my soaked dick until I shoot my load all over her now red ass. Fucking hell, I could look at the sight all goddamned day.

  “Five hundred and forty-seven times,” I finally respond with a smug tone. I’m not really sure how many times we’ve had sex, but it seems like a good guess.

  “Hmm. I would have guessed more.” She rolls onto her back and looks up at me.

  Her lip finds its way between her teeth, and she pinches her eyebrows together as if she’s really fucking counting the times. She looks so damn hot right now that I’m eager to increase that number.

  I push her knees against her chest and am back inside her before she even realizes what’s happening.

  “Five hundred and forty-eight,” I growl as I slam into her.

  That night, she let me fuck her two more times so we’d have an even five hundred and fifty. My Care Bear is an overachiever.

  “Oh God,” she murmurs, dragging my thoughts back to the task of eating out her pussy.

  Her fingers are in my hair and she’s holding me exactly where she wants me. A few more licks and she loses control, thrashing wildly on the bed with her orgasm. I don’t give her time to recover and crawl up her body. Gripping my throbbing cock, I push it into her until I’ve filled her to the hilt.

  My mouth finds hers and I kiss her. The taste of her mixes with our tongues, and I groan at the sheer perfection of it. As I thrust into her, her fingers touch the hair on my face. Our bodies were perfectly molded for one another. I’m still amazed that, out of a world full of people, I found my perfect match.

  “I’m close,” I murmur.

  Sometimes, she’ll come again after I eat her out, and other times, her pussy is too overstimulated. This time, it must be the latter.

  “Come for me, baby,” she purrs.

  The low, seductive tone of her voice does it for me. Soon, my balls tighten up and I’m spilling all I have to give into her hot body. When I release it all, I collapse onto her and purposely crush her under my weight.

  “Get off, you big bear,” she complains.

  I laugh and tickle her sides. She manages to swat my ass, which makes my softening cock spring back alive.

  “Watch it, sugar,” I grumble.

  She spanks me again, so I tickle her harder. We’re about three seconds from fucking again when a loud banging on our bedroom door startles us.

  “As much as I’d rather whack off out here while listening to you two go at it, Mom insists it’s time to eat. Now, get your horny asses downstairs before I eat all of the fried chicken. Some of us have shit to do, like work,” Harley booms through the door.

  As he stomps away, Caroline and I each meet each other’s conspiratorial stares. She’s just as naughty as I am, because we go ahead and get in one quick fuck before lunch.

  “Shh,” I say as I fling my beer’s bottle cap at Harley. “Mom is asleep and she’ll kick your fucking ass if you wake her up.”

  Caroline tries very unsuccessfully to contain her giggling. Since it’s New Year’s Eve, the three of us decided to have a party of our own. Mom chose to go to bed instead. Caroline is on her second bottle of wine, whereas Harley and I have almost polished off a case of beer. And I used to think New Year’s had to be ritzy parties with my rich friends. Nothing beats ringing the new year in with your stupid brother and kickass wife.

  “You two should move back out here. It’s much more fun, believe it or not. I like seeing you guys, even if your syrupy love kind of makes me choke on my vomit a little bit,” Harley chuckles.

  I flick my gaze over to Caroline to gauge her reaction. Her smile is broad, which tells me that she likes the idea. I think I like the idea too.

  “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” I joke as I stand and saunter off into the other room while they chat and laugh.

  All night, I’ve been meaning to give Care her present, and I just reminded myself about it. Finding the box that came via Amazon, I pick it up and carry it back into the living room. When I set it in Caroline’s lap, she giggles.

  “What’s this?” she asks.

  I flash her a grin, and Harley tosses her his pocket knife.

  “We missed Christmas, baby. I got you something,” I tell her.

  After a couple of unsuccessful attem
pts on her part to get the box open, Harley grumbles and takes over. Once he’s slit open the top, she pulls her present out.

  “You got me a camera!” she shrieks in excitement.

  A really expensive fucking camera.

  “But I don’t know how to use it,” she says sadly, scrunching her nose up. So fucking cute.

  “It doesn’t matter. I signed us both up for an online class. We can learn how to use it together,” I reply.

  Her eyes brim with tears as she sets it on the floor. “Thank you. I got you something too. I was going to wait until we got back home, but I’ll show you now.”

  She bounces off on unstable feet toward the pantry in the kitchen. As her ass jiggles in her sweatpants, I have the urge to bite one of her butt cheeks. God, I love her ass. Mom feeds us so much fucking food that it isn’t even funny. Care promises to get back to eating healthy when we get back to Vancouver, but in the meantime, she’s eaten everything Mom has put in front of her. Having nearly starved to death, she doesn’t take any food for granted. And it’s starting to show. Her ribs don’t poke out anymore, and my wife is getting a sexy little junk in her trunk.

  “You two are about to fuck, huh?” Harley groans.

  I snap my head in his direction to see that he’s watching me over his beer. Laughing, I nod at him and take a swig of mine. “You probably have about four minutes until I toss her over my shoulder and carry her upstairs.”

  He shakes his head and grumbles, but I’m distracted by my wife when she reenters the room. As she sets a huge frame in my lap, I grin like a fucking idiot. She had the pictures we took on my phone developed and printed. They’re all presented in a collage format with a saying in cursive flourishes written in the middle.

  Home is where you make it.

  We’re dirty and hungry and fucking exhausted in each one. Scratches from the accident mark our cheeks, and our lips are cracked and bleeding from the cold. But we’re happy.

  So.

  Fucking.

  Happy.

  Just like now. I’ll die before I ever let us lose this.

  We’re something stronger and better than we have ever been before. I’ve never felt more alive and loved than since the accident. Caroline is my reason for being, and I will never forget that.