Shattered by Cora York

Author:Cora York [York, Cora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Montana

Having sex, sex and more sex, was how we spent the next two days. Tricia canceled her visit, saying she couldn’t bear to leave her grandbaby. I missed her, but I was also relieved she’d decided not to come home.

When Dylan wasn’t working with the new horse, we were between the sheets blowing each other’s minds.

His imagination was a creative one. He’d shown off his rope skills by tying me up a few times.

I’d happily stay in our cocoon forever, but I had to be realistic; our time together was running out. That was something I didn’t want to think about too much.

Everything with him was better, funnier, more exciting. Being with him made me feel like a better version of myself, a stronger, more confident version.

Ever since I’d accepted the challenge to spend less time on my phone and online—I’d extended it past the three days with no coaxing from Dylan—I found that not obsessing about what people were and weren’t saying about me was liberating.

The angel and devil were still doing their daily battle, but the angel was winning, and the devil was now shrinking and sulking.

Yesterday, when I’d stopped by my cabin to grab clean clothes, I’d also grabbed my guitar and sheet music.

The notes and lyrics twisting around my brain insisted I write. The butterflies in my belly and the voice in my head wouldn’t leave me alone until I got something down on paper.

I sat in a rocking chair on the porch in front of the main house strumming nothing in particular, waiting for the tune to make its way out of my body. Writing a new song was sometimes like an exorcism but without spinning heads and projectile vomiting.

Dylan’s truck pulled up the gravel road, and my heart soared. The butterflies in my belly headed down south until they tickled my clit.

He jumped out of his truck, a wide smiled lighting up his face when he saw me. I poured him a glass of lemonade and bounced down the steps to meet him.

“I could get used to this,” he said, planting a kiss on my cheek before accepting the drink. He took a sip and smacked his lips. “A girl who can make lemonade and give blowjobs as good as you is a keeper.”

“Be still my beating heart.” I went back to the rocking chair, picked up my guitar, and strummed a few notes.

“Will you sing for me?” he asked.

“I’m rusty,” I lied. Singing for only him would be more terrifying than getting up on stage in front of thousands of people. “My voice hasn’t been used in a while.”

“What’s that you’re playing?”

“Just something I’ve been working on.”

“Let me hear it.”

“I don’t like anyone hearing my songs until I know they’re ready.”

“Tell me what it’s about.”

I smiled. “Waterfall kisses, long summer nights, and a cowboy who knows me better than I know myself.”

A blush formed on his cheeks and the emotion on his face and in his eyes left a lump in my throat.

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