Kylie watched the sun begin to set. She eyed the cake she had made so lovingly. She really had to hand it to herself. She'd pulled off a miracle this afternoon. She'd managed a two-tiered anniversary cake, cleaned the upstairs, and sent in three of her writing assignments. Her editor had even sent a congratulatory email. Seemed all the pressure was bringing out the aggressive writer in her. Marcia had loved the interviews and given her an assignment she'd been itching for. All in all, a good day.

As the pinks and blues of the sky toned down to a deep purple, Kylie poured herself a nice cold glass of wine. She had definitely earned it. The first sip was cool, fruity heaven. She felt the old familiar craving for a cigarette. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let the craving pass. If she could survive this party without cracking, she would forever be a nonsmoker. No doubt about it. If this stress didn't break her, she couldn't be broken.

The phone gave its customary burble and Kylie sighed. Most likely her sister from the liquor store. What kind of beer? Dark? Light? Red? What kind of wine? How much? How many bottles would we need? She could hear all the inane questions in her head before she even picked up the receiver. Kylie steeled herself. Best to be calm and patient. She wouldn't get a lick of work out of Fawn if she let loose on her.

"Yes?" she said with mock amusement.

"Hello? Kylie?"

"Mrs. Sinclair!" Kylie stammered. "I'm so sorry. I thought for sure it was Fawn. I didn't mean to be rude ... I mean--" Kylie let loose a deep sigh and started again. "I apologize, how are you?"

Terri Sinclair laughed. Her laugh sounded the same as it had when Kylie was a child. The Sinclairs were her parents' oldest friends. She hadn't talked to them in years. Not since Wade had gone off. The thought alone sent a brief stab of pain through Kylie.

She was too old to feel that way, she reprimanded herself. Too old to still have teenage hang-ups.

"I am fine, my darling. And how are you? Having a hard time getting Fawn to pull her weight? Let me guess, this was all her idea. And you, sweetie, got the honor of doing all the hard work."

Kylie sipped her wine and couldn't repress a giggle. "You do remember her well, don't you?"

"Both of you, sweetie. I just haven't seen you in ages. I heard this shindig is at your new house. I'm so excited to see it. Carol says it's marvelous."

Kylie allowed herself to take it all in again. Yes, it was. And it was all hers. The two-hundred-year-old farmhouse. White, of course. Six bedrooms. Two fireplaces. A wrap-around porch. The house of her dreams.

"Are you reveling as we speak?" Terri asked, pulling her in from her daydream.

"I'm sorry! Yes, I was. I'll admit it to you, Mrs. Sinclair. I was gaping again. Not a day goes by that I don't gape."

"From what your mother says, you deserve to gape. She said she wasn't so sure about it when you bought it. I believe the phrase she used was 'a piece of doodie'."

"I'm sure Mom didn't use that word," Kylie laughed.

"No, you're right. She used the other word. You'll have to forgive me but I still think of you and Fawn as impressionable young girls."

"Fawn maybe." Kylie sighed, sipping her wine. "Not me. I'm too old for people to impress anything upon me I don't want."

Terri's laughter wafted in her ear again. "Yes. You are ancient, Kylie. What are you now? Twenty-seven?"

"Twenty-nine," Kylie corrected.

"Ah. Forgive me. Anyway, if I still know your sister's work ethic, I'm sure you're swamped. I just had one quick question and then I'll let you get back to the million things awaiting your attention."

"Shoot," Kylie said, settling in her new sofa. Chocolate brown. Overstuffed. Heaven on earth. "But if you're going to ask me what you can get them, I haven't a clue. I don't even have a gift yet."

"Oh, I was going to get them a gift certificate for that new Celtic shop. Your mother eats up her Irish heritage with a spoon. I figured she could find some pretty collectible for the house."

"Perfect," Kylie sighed. "In fact, I may even go there to get my gift. You're a lifesaver."

"Always glad to help. Now! On to my question..." Terri Sinclair hesitated as Kylie sat in silence.

"What is it, Mrs. Sinclair? You can ask me anything."

"I was wondering--" Terri cleared her throat and Kylie felt a sinister nervousness uncoil low in her belly. It couldn't be. She wouldn't. Impossible. "Well, you see, Wade is in town. He's out of the military now and he came home to see Dana's baby. You know we're grandparents now. It's so wonderful." The woman rambled on excitedly but the nervousness was evident in her voice. "I'm not asking if Dana can come, of course. The baby's only a week old. She's not up to parties yet and the baby shouldn't be exposed to all those people. Especially now. Cold and flu season, you know. But Wade. Yes, Wade is in town and I know he'd love to see everyone. Your parents are very important people to him. Always treated him like a son. So," she took an audible breath and then sighed, "would you be able to handle that, dear?"

Kylie opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Words refused to come. Wade? In town? He was here. A shiver skittered up the nape of her neck. Her scalp crawled. A deep open wound blossomed in her stomach. An ache so deep it was if a black hole resided in her midsection. "Of course," she squeaked before her brain kicked in. "He's welcome to come. I can't wait to see him."

Dead silence. Just breathing. It was as if Terri was as surprised as Kylie herself. Welcome? Can't wait to see him! The bastard had left her. Pledged his undying love. Taught her all about love, sensuality. Helped her find her own sexuality and desire. Then he was gone. Overnight. Poof! Like a bad magic trick.

"Well, thank you, Kylie. I really do appreciate it. I know it can't be easy--"

"It's fine!" Kylie barked. It came out a tad more forcefully than she intended. "I mean, it's been ages, Mrs. Sinclair. I think we've all grown up. Life goes on and all that. I'll be fine. Really."

"Thank you, Kylie." Terri sighed and then said her goodbyes. As she hung up, Kylie was sure the other woman had known the truth. Had known she was lying through her teeth.

His hands were on her. Large, broad hands that anchored her hips solidly to his. His thick cock nestled snugly in the crack of her ass as he pushed against her. The hands wandered, traveled the smooth soft flesh of her belly, traced the outline of her hips. He arched against her and she could feel how eager he was. How very ready he was to dip into the needy moisture between her thighs. Those callused hands cupped her breasts, smoothed over the side-swells. Plucked her nipples into perfect erection.

She sighed out her pleasure, relishing the soft but strong feel of his hands moving over her. His lips brushed the nape of her neck, bringing all the tiny hairs to attention. He kissed along her hairline and stopped to trace the fragile shell of her ear. "I will love you forever, Kylie," he whispered and she shivered. "I can't wait to get on with life with you. Doing this every night. Marriage. Babies. I will want you till the day I die. Need you till the day I die," he said on a kiss and then he was in her. Sliding into her with one long thrust. His cock brushed the sweetest spots.

She felt a rush of pure pleasure, pure wanting. They moved together in a perfect dance, his thrusts every bit urgent and aggressive. The pure male need evident in his movements ratcheted her pleasure higher. And when he became frantic, expressing himself with nothing more than grunts and harsh hisses of air, she felt her own pleasure unfurl like brightly colored ribbons in her mind. Her body followed, swimming in a haze of pleasure so intense it walked the fine line of pain. He pumped inside her as her pussy quivered. She milked each drop of his seed, enveloped each thrust of his cock until there was no more to be had. He was all she ever wanted. This. Here. With him. Forever...

Kylie sat up in bed. The sheets fell away from her shivering body. She wiped her forehead and her hand came away covered in cool, clammy sweat. Her heart pounded and a smaller, more frantic pulse had started in her sex. She flung the covers back and stood, grabbing the nightstand for support. Her knees felt rubbery and she put her head down to clear the woozy feeling that threatened to send her sinking to the floor.

Wade. Damn Wade.

She hadn't had the dreams in ages. Had healed. Or so she thought. But here he was again tonight. Fucking her. Taking her. Making her love him.

"I don't love him," she growled in the dark. But down in the deepest part of her, she knew it was a lie. She had always loved him. Hated him too these past few years. Despite the hate, though, the love had survived. And now she had to see him. Be in the same room with him. She would have to survive the embarrassment. The twitters and whispers. That's Wade. At one time Wade and Kylie were an item. We all swore they'd end up together. We were sure they would settle down and start a family. Then one day, Wade up and left! Joined the Army. Left Kylie broken-hearted and lifeless. That girl wasn't right for at least a year. Then they would tsk and shake their heads and pity her.

Kylie sank to the bed and hugged herself. The sweat had started to dry and a chill swept over her. She shivered in the dark and wrapped the damp sheet around her shoulders. She would have to bite the bullet. Not let the pity and the gossip get to her. She would hide her feelings. Hide her anger. She could do it.

The pulse between her legs beckoned. It hadn't let up in the slightest despite the calming of her heartbeat.

"Great. Not only does he leave me. He comes into my dreams, gets me all worked up, and leaves me horny." She sighed and then she was laughing. Half laugh. Half sob.

Her fingers found her clit and moved in gentle circles. Her body instantly responded. A pleasant, half-forgotten warmth spread through her. It had been too long since she had experienced any kind of physical pleasure. Kylie fingered the delicate organ harder. She thrust a finger into her weeping sex. Not enough. She needed more. A second joined the first, a third joined the second. She sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide as she worked herself. Her motions grew harsh and demanding as her thighs trembled. She hooked the trio of fingers, stimulating her G-spot with a come-hither motion. She stroked her clit harder, tighter circles, firmer pressure. This need was overwhelming. The need for orgasm. The need to purge the demons from her dreams. The need for release.

Kylie let out a harsh bark of laughter in the dark. Quickly the laughter turned to an echoing sob. Her body shook as her thrusting fingers became more frenetic. She forced them into her in an almost angry tempo. She was powerless to stop it. Unable to rein in her scattered emotions. She was driven purely by the intense animalistic desire to come. And she did. Tears streaming down her cheeks as her skin began to tingle and then heat. The first warm rolling lick of pleasure coursed through her and as her body bowed beneath the orgasm, she cried.