Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
Barn Shadows
Hana eagerly cheats on her husband with his hot best friend in the barn.
Hana stood at the kitchen window of the old farmhouse, bare feet cool against the worn floorboards, watching the late afternoon light stretch long and golden across the fields. Sergio had left three days ago for that endless business trip upstate, kissing her forehead with the absent affection of a man already halfway out the door. A week alone. She had told herself she would catch up on the books, maybe finally sort the attic, but her body had other plans. The memory of Hugo’s hands lived under her skin like a second pulse.
She heard the truck before she saw it—the low growl of the engine, tires crunching gravel. Her breath caught. No one was supposed to come by. Then the familiar dark blue Ford rounded the bend, and there he was, climbing out like he owned the dust and the heat and every secret she’d ever kept. Hugo. Sergio’s best friend since college, the one who had stood beside them at the wedding and smiled too long at the bride. Muscular from years of construction work, charming in that easy, dangerous way that made women lean closer without meaning to. He wore a faded gray T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, jeans riding low on his hips, and when he looked up at the house his eyes found her immediately.
Hana’s nipples tightened against the thin cotton of her sundress. She didn’t wave. She simply opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch, the humid air licking at her bare thighs.
“Hugo.” Her voice came out lower than she intended. “What are you doing here?”
He slammed the truck door and strode toward her, tool belt slung over one shoulder, a slow smile curving his mouth. “Sergio called. Said the barn roof was leaking again. Figured I’d surprise you, get a jump on it before the weekend.” He stopped at the bottom of the steps, close enough that she could smell him—sun-warmed skin, motor oil, the faint spice of his cologne. His gaze dragged down her body, lingering on the way the dress clung to her full breasts, the bare stretch of her legs. “You look good, Hana. Lonely looks good on you.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and pooled low in her belly. They both knew. Months ago, after that Fourth of July cookout when Sergio had passed out early, Hugo had pressed her against the side of this very barn and fucked her until she bit her own wrist to keep from screaming. They had done it three more times before guilt and caution forced them apart. She had sworn it was over. Standing here now, watching the pulse jump in his throat, she knew the oath had always been a lie.