“Patience. You said you had trouble going slow. Maybe I can help you learn.”

Gabe growled. “Fuck slow. Suck me off. Now.”

She was still smiling when she covered the head of his cock, twirling her tongue over the crest and getting him good and wet. His long, low sigh made her happy, and she imagined he’d closed his eyes in satisfaction.

Then she stopped thinking about what he was doing and concentrated on what she could do to him. Licking his length, her hand easing along the shaft.

Allison brought her other hand up to cup his balls, rolling them in her fingers as she took him deep. Rocking over him slowly at first, taking her time to get him to the point her mouth met where her hand held him.

Fingers brushed her hair, tucking the length behind her ear, and she glanced up, her mouth still full of his cock. Gabe wasn’t relaxed back, eyes closed. He was staring intently at her, pupils gone dark with desire. That made her want to give him more. Make it even better for him.

She caught his hand in hers and held it to her head. When she moved over him the next time, she removed her hand and clasped his hips. His entire length exposed meant there was more she had to work on. More to try to handle, and she relaxed her throat to take him as deep as she possibly could.

“Oh, sweet darling. So fine. That feels so fine.”

Gabe took her suggestion and had both hands in her hair. Twisting the strands up so he could see clearer. There was a slight pull as he moved, and desire streaked through her again.

Giving him the blowjob was suddenly more than payback for the pleasure she’d received. She wanted to reward him. Wanted to give more to this man who was constantly giving, not only to her, but to everyone around them.

She squirmed, and he followed, hips pulling away from the stump he’d been leaning on. As he stood she stared up, willing him to take what she offered.

Wanting him to take.

Gabe brushed his knuckle over her cheek, rocking slowly until the head of his cock bumped her throat. He pulled back quickly.

Allison squeezed his ass on his next motion, driving him a little farther than he’d intended to go, and the guttural pleasure that burst from him made her so damn happy.

A shudder rocked him right before he took control. Her head held firmly now in his palms, he tilted her slightly and slid all the way in. All the way until his abdomen pressed her lips, her mouth stretched wide.

She swallowed around his cock to stop her gag reflex from kicking in, and he trembled.

And broke.

No more slow. No more careful. Just him holding her exactly how he wanted. Plunging in deep three or four times in rapid succession followed by short, hard rocks. He pulled nearly free, resting his cock on her lower lip.

“Lick it.”

She teased. Once. Just a touch.

“Suck the head. Just the head.” His voice had gone lower. Darker.

Allison licked her lips, tracing around his cock to do so, then closed tight and obeyed. Pulse after pulse, all the while licking and playing. Teasing the slit, swallowing his precome.

“God, so close. I want to…” He dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her forward.

She opened wide and took him all the way, and his cock jerked, heat splaying against the back of her throat. The salty flavour filling her mouth as she swallowed, bits of his come escaping forward and coating his length.

He held her trapped, and she loved it. Loved how he made her feel so beautiful and satisfied. When he loosened his grasp, she licked him clean, working him gently as he softened.

Gabe dropped to his knees beside her and squeezed her tight. His heart still pounding—she felt it against her chest as he held her close.

The sun had moved slightly, and they were now in the shadows.

“It’s getting cold.”

He chuckled. “The hot sweaty part is done.”

He helped her up, brushing the dirt off her knees, this wicked grin stretching his lips.

“You look damn satisfied,” Allison teased.

Gabe smiled at her, leaning to kiss her briefly. When he pulled back, his expression had changed. “Fuck it all.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

Gabe scratched his head and pointed in disgust at their clothes. “This is why you’re supposed to strip before you go skinny dipping.”

“Oh shit.”

All their clothes. Wet. Not just wet, but wet and muddy and a total mess. Somehow they had to pull that on, or at least enough to wear to get home.

Still, she had to smile. Gabe had begun to gather their things, and the first thing he’d nabbed was his hat.

“I don’t know. You look like a cowboy to me.”

He swung around, buck-naked with his hat on. His burst of laughter as he realized what she was talking about set off her own.

Even with the soaking, sticky garments she had to pull on, there was something magical about the entire morning. Frankly, she couldn’t remember laughing this much in a long time. Not since she’d heard about her mom.

The whole way back to his cabin she held on tight to the sensation.

And wondered if she was crazy to wish for more.

Chapter Sixteen

Her clothes dried during the ride home, so when she spotted Travis’s truck still parked outside, keeping a little more space between her and Gabe’s impromptu visitors seemed like a good idea.

Gabe didn’t like it, but he didn’t argue when she asked him to grab her keys. Cleaning up at her mom’s was win-win. Privacy for the guys—plus she’d have the afternoon to kick back and enjoy her mom’s company.

First, a shower. Something sticky clung between her shoulder blades. She didn’t really want to know what, she just wanted it gone.

The Parker family home on the outskirts of town had the best of both parts of Rocky Mountain House. Close enough to access the conveniences and the Timberline Grill, still able to keep horses and have more land than a city dwelling. Allison drove the back lane to the place. Safer to avoid any of the neighbours on the front street than have to explain why she looked like a wet rat.

She ditched her boots before jerking on the sticky porch screen door to wrench it open. The resulting loud creak was familiar. A kind of a homecoming.

She’d barely made it into the kitchen when her mom called from the living room. “Who’s there?”

Allison hurried forward to reassure her.

“It’s me, Mom. I’m here to hang out for a bit.” She rounded the corner, her wet socks leaving footprint marks on the kitchen floor. “I need to hop in the shower first—”

Her mom wasn’t alone in the living room. Elle and Paul were there as well. All of them perched on the edge of their seats, tension in their bodies. Elle’s and Maisey’s cheeks were wet with tears, and Paul was doing his stony-faced thing. The one he did when he didn’t want to cry.

Allison’s first thought was to ask who had died. Stupid, yes, but with the morning she’d just had, and the secrets Maisey was keeping, it took a moment for the truth to hit home.

“Oh God.” Her mom had told them.

Maisey tilted her head to the side, sniffing back more tears. She sighed, then nodded. “They know.”

Elle buried her face in her hands, shoulders shaking. Allison crossed the room to her side and hugged her. Words just didn’t seem to be coming the way she wanted them to.

What words could possibly make this better?

It had been nearly fifteen years since their father had died. Seventeen years since his first heart attack, and Allison could still remember the turmoil they’d felt as the deterioration set in. Powerless to help him as one attack after the other followed, and his body slowly stopped following his orders.

All the emotions came back so clearly. So brutally overwhelming.

Their house, and their teenage lives, became all about trying to make Dad comfortable. Dealing with hormonal swings and issues of teenage angst were shoved aside as he demanded attention. They’d tried their best to be there for him. It had been such a long, painful journey.

Here they were on the same path, all over again.

Paul stood and paced over to the window, staring out at the fields. He coughed, but it was obvious he spoke around a throat gone tight with emotion. “Mom said there’s nothing that can be done. Do you agree?”

“I’m not mentally incompetent, Paul. Why are you asking your sister?” Maisey shook her head. “You think I’m a two-year-old and I made a mistake? I’m not stupid. I know what the doctor said. The statistics on pancreatic cancer are clear.”

“There are options. There are always options.”

“Oh, Paul. I know you want to make this better, but I already told you. I refuse to do some experimental protocol that might give me two or three more months of pain.”

He turned. “But what if—”

“No.” Maisey stood up. “No what-ifs. I’m sorry. It’s not fair, and I don’t want to die—” Her voice broke. Allison went to stand, to support her, but her mom held out a hand. “No, it’s okay. I need to make him understand. I need you all to understand. I looked at the information. I asked the questions. And I’m going to die.”

In Allison’s arms, Elle shook.

Maisey snatched up a tissue and wiped her eyes. She took a deep breath before lifting her chin and continuing. “So I choose to die with as much dignity as I can. And to me that means in a way that least impacts your lives.”

“Oh God, Mom,” Paul blurt out. “You’re dying and you think it won’t impact our lives?”

“I will not be your father.” Maisey spoke each word individually. Forcefully. “I will not take and break you apart like that. I know you’re in shock, and I know this is horrifying, but please, please understand why I want this.”

Allison squeezed Elle’s shoulder for a second before releasing her and approaching Maisey. She didn’t say anything, just opened her arms and hugged the woman.

Her mom sucked in a quivering breath before accepting the embrace. Then they were all there, Elle and Paul as well, wrapped tight like a cocoon. Crying and struggling to find the way to go forward.

Go forward into the unnumbered days ahead of them.

Paul was the first to pull away. “I need to…I need time.”

“You want to do something violent, there’s a load of firewood in the backyard that needs chopping,” Maisey suggested.

“Firewood? Right now?” Elle sniffed and wiped her hand over her eyes.

“Why not? It needs to be split.”

Paul left without another word. Allison watched out the window, and he did head to the back rather than to his car. An hour or so of swinging an axe wasn’t a bad idea, really.

“You kids want to come back for a while after you’ve dealt with the supper crowd at the restaurant?” Maisey asked. “You can get someone else to close.”

Elle nodded. “I’ll make the calls. I love you, Mom.” She coughed through the final word. She straightened her shoulders as she turned to face Allison. “You stink, by the way. What happened to your clothes?”

Shoot. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in front of her mom. “I…fell in the creek.”

Her sister raised a brow. “You fell in? Really?”

“Why didn’t you change at home?” her mom asked.

Why indeed. Of all the times for her mind to completely blank on excuses. “I was coming over and just figured I’d get cleaned up here.”

Elle frowned. “Did you and Gabe have a fight?”

The thought of him going down on her, his blond head buried between her legs as she writhed on the tree stump made Allison smile in spite of the past moment’s tears. “No, we didn’t have a fight.”

Elle lifted a brow. “Did he fall in the creek with you as well?”

Allison bit back a groan, darting a glance at their mom. Little sisters could be a pain in the ass. “I think I need to go get changed, since I smell so bad and all.”

Her sister wrinkled her nose, her teasing smile fading as her gaze skimmed over their mom. The taunts and jokes between them might be instinctive, but the reality of Mom’s news, fresh and raw, broke into the familiar patterns and tainted everything with sadness.

Maisey patted Allison’s shoulder. “You go ahead and have a shower. I’ll pop your things in the laundry. You have some old clothes in the bottom dresser in the guest room.”

Great. She fled the room as quickly as she could, but not before Elle shook a finger her direction.

It seems there would be a sisterly inquisition in the near future.