She nips at my skin as her hands slid under my shirt, humming softly at the feel of my skin beneath her hands. " Promise you won't leave," she whisper..., her tongue darting out to taste my skin.I growl softly at her touches, my hands sliding up under her shirt. " I won't leave, Heather...not willingly." I drew her shirt off over her head and leans forward to bury my face into her cleavage. " Your marks are fading," I mumbled. " You need new ones..." I turned slightly to bite her breasts hard. On the way out of the yard he passed the Mexicans in the flatbed heading in the other direction toward the orchards. He gave them a big smile and a wave.Ten minutes later he reached the edge of the orchard and farm where it bordered on Highway 76. He stopped the truck in front of the produce stand and began unloading the baskets, bags, and buckets of fruit and vegetables. He put the cooler under the long counter near the old cane chair at the east side of the open-air building where it would be. More

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