***This is a part of the Born to Love series. If you didn't read Born to love. You will not understand this story. This is it's sequel because I wanted to add more to it and felt it was a great story. You don't like some romance with your sex this isn't a story for you. Lots of sex and twist and turns to come.***
I held my wife's hand as our plane landed. It had been ten years since Rachel and I had been home. Soon after graduating we moved out of state settling into a nice home with our inheritance and going to school together as lovers and not siblings.
The winter we moved Rachel gave birth to our son Mikey and two years later we welcomed our daughter Rebecca into the world. Our grandparents came to visit us as often as possible but two years ago our grandfather had a stroke making it difficult for them to travel. We remained in contact and spoke daily but our jobs were demanding and travel wasn't good for us.
Rachel stared out of the window of the plane biting her nail. It was something she started in college whenever she was nervous.
"Darling, it's alright. Just breathe." I kissed her hand gently and kept hold of it on the arm rest between us. Rachel simply nodded and told the kids to put their things back in their carry-ons.
Since the day I married Rachel I had made it a point to show her that our life together could be everything we hoped and dreamed about. What I didn't think about were the things in life I had no control over. Like my grandfather being stubborn and doing as he wished.
I remember the phone call that brought us here. It was heartbreaking to hear our grandmother so lost. She had been in the hospital with my grandfather all day after one morning he got out of bed and decided he could walk down the stairs "without feeling like a damn invalid" as he so gently put it.
He fell down the stairs and broke two ribs. One of which punctured his lung causing him to go into respiratory arrest and having his heart stop.
That was four days ago and I still felt every ache in my wife's heart along with my own. My children were lost without the man in their lives who would buy them sweets and tell them stories.
Grabbing our bags we jumped into our rental and drove to the lake house. The funeral would be tomorrow followed by a wake at the lake house.
Rachel played with her wedding ring and looked out at the trees the whole ride. Only stopping to call our grandmother telling her we were fifteen minutes away.
Once we pulled into the dirt drive way the kids leapt from the car and rushed out to the lake. Mickey began to show Rebecca how to skip stones on the water.
I grabbed the bags from the trunk and placed them on the porch. Expecting Rachel to be behind me I turned to ask her about rooming to only find her standing by the garage.
She pulled a sheet off the old truck and saw the newly restored truck complete with a new paint job. "He must have finished it before his stroke." I sighed heavily.
Hearing no response from my sister I turned to see her brushing her fingers over the old tools sitting on the counter top. "He must have wanted to surprise you. Why didn't we ever come back here?"
"Rachel, we work for demanding companies and have two children to raise."
"We could have tried harder. They needed us and we left them here alone." Rachel was fully crying now and it was breaking my heart.
I took her in my arms and kissed her gently. The passion grew like wildfire. It was as of being back here ignited something in us. Something that this place always held for us. I lifted her up onto the counter top. She wrapped her legs around my waist. I pushed my hand under her shirt to grab her breast through her bra. She moaned as she unzipped my pants and reached for my cock. Stroking it slowly I began pumping into her hand to get the speed I wanted.
We have always been very sexual people but seeing as we rushed to come back here we hadn't made love in four days. Looking over at our children they were too busy by the lake to come back toward us. They couldn't see us but we could see them out a small window in the back of the garage.
