Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Skylar
The mood is pretty much ruined after that, so we clean up and make some real food. There’s not much else to do but eat when you’re trapped in the house. He produces two steaks from the fridge before opening a closet, and—hand-to-God—this man climbs down a ladder to a real-life root cellar. He hands me a couple potatoes and climbs back up like it’s normal. I feel like I’ve gone back in time.
“You don’t need to say it. It’s weird, I know, but I try to be as self-sustainable as possible. So, I grow root vegetables and store them down there for the winter.”
“You also grow your own food?” I scoff, but it’s overly dramatic so he knows I’m kidding. “You own chickens, you named your bread, you live on a mountain, you use solar power, and now you’re saying you’re a farmer?”
He shrugs and rests his butt on the edge of the counter, bracing his hands on either side. “It’s a simple life, but I love it.”
“I can tell. You seem settled. Happy.” I reach out to give his hand a squeeze, and the simple touch sends a bolt of electricity through me. Not expecting it, I jerk away. He must have felt it too, because his pained gaze locks on where I touched him, as if I left behind a mark.
Chemistry was never our problem. Actually, we never had any problems, which made it all the more difficult to walk away. We were perfect for each other and the more time I spend locked in this house with him, the more I realize that hasn’t changed. Shouldn’t there be a way for us to be together if it feels this right? Maybe there is and I just haven’t thought of it yet.
Or maybe I’m delusional.
At the very least, I can get on board with what he said and just enjoy the time we have together. If it’s the last chance we have, then we should take advantage of it. It’s not a hardship to spend time with a man who’s not only the most gorgeous man in the world but also smart, interesting, and funny.
I clear my throat to break the tension. “I hope I can find the same someday.”
God, he looks irresistible like this—so cool and casual with his low-slung sweats and a worn tee. Even his scruffy beard and mussed hair add to his appeal. I’d be the luckiest woman in the world to get to experience all his rugged sexiness every day.
“We both grew up in chaos. It’s nice to finally be where I belong,” he says, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Just missing someone to share it with.”
“I don’t know how you haven’t found someone.” I pivot so I’m standing in front of him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, looking a little nervous at my proximity.
“I haven’t exactly been looking. I figure if it’s meant to be, she’ll find me.”
Maybe it’s my need to see the flecks of gold in his eyes, or maybe it’s just my crazed hormones, but a magnetic pull propels me forward. This close, I have to crane my neck to see his expression, which is equal parts curious and reluctant.
“What are you doing, Sunny?”
“What did you mean when you said you wanted to enjoy the time we have?” I rest my hands on his forearms, feeling his corded muscles flex.
“I didn’t mean what you’re suggesting.” He looks me up and down.
Well, that’s an instant hit to my ego. I know I’m not an expert in these things, but there have been moments today when I thought for sure he wanted me. I’m such an idiot.
“Oh.” My shoulders slump, and I turn, but before I can run away and hide, he spins me around and switches our positions so I’m the one backed up against the counter. Then he lifts and settles me on the cold granite. I haven’t even released the disappointment of the perceived rejection when he rests his hands on my thighs and parts them to make room for his body to step close.
“I said that wrong. What I meant was, I’d never assume”—he thrusts against my hot center, and all doubt about his lack of attraction to me goes out the window because his cock is hard as stone—“this. I’d be perfectly fine with just getting to know you again and taking care of what you do to me”—he thrusts again—“in the shower.”
Holy bananas. The words drag out in my mind as I try to grasp what’s going on. Is this really happening? I know I was the one doing all the instigating, but now that the choice is in front of me, can I ignore reality enough to have sex with my ex?
Who am I kidding? I don’t feel an ounce of loyalty to the man I’m engaged to. He deserves much worse than his fiancée sleeping with another man, especially since I have more feelings for this man than I do for him.
“Seems like a waste of a good erection.” My words are breathy and needy, even to my own ears.
He grins, taking my hands and looping them around his shoulders. Once I clasp them behind his neck, his arms circle me in a warm hold that’s so comforting, I could cry. How long has it been since I’ve been treated with care? How long has it been since someone touched me without the intent of hurting me?
“Do you have a better use for it?” he says against my lips.
“Depends on how long you can keep it up.” I sass.
He laughs, and once again, he lifts me, this time into his arms. My legs wrap around him, and I squeal, arguing that I’m too heavy for him to carry when we reach the stairs, but he just scoffs. To prove his point, he takes them two at a time without breaking a sweat.
“Walker! Oh my God, you’re going to drop me.”
“Onto my bed? Yeah, I am.” He releases me onto his mattress, and I land with a little bounce, laughing.
All humor dies when he stares at me with a serious hunger in his eyes. He crawls over my legs, stopping where my shirt has ridden up, exposing a sliver of skin he leans down to kiss. My arms give out under the weight of his attention, and I flop back onto the bed. Pulling the shirt up higher, his lips trail up my abdomen. Having him so close to another of my secrets gives me pause for just a second before pushing away all thoughts and allowing myself to just enjoy.
“Walker, I need you,” I whine.
He stops before exposing my breasts, which thrust up in the air with each of my heaving breaths. “There’s something I should tell you before we go any further.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
I lift back up on my elbows, unable to hold back the bite in my tone when I repeat, “What?”
“Don’t worry, I’m going to make you feel good.” He cups my breast, flicking his thumb over my painfully tight nipple. “But I’m not going to fuck you.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because if my cock pushed inside your sweet pussy, it wouldn’t just be sex. It’d be a claiming. Not for today, not for a week. You’d be agreeing to be mine for forever this time, which means you’d have to let me in and help you get out of your situation. You’d have to trust me to take care of you.”
“It doesn’t have to mean all that. We can just have fun,” I suggest, but I already know it’s not going to happen. There’s no point in arguing because no matter how much I try to delude myself into thinking there’s a way out for me, I know there’s not.
The disappointment is visible in his expression. “That’s not how this works. Not because I can’t have casual sex—I’ve had lots of casual sex over the?—”
I cover his mouth. “I don’t need to hear about all the women you’ve casually fucked.”
He pulls my hand away. “My point is, I can’t have that with you. At the risk of sounding like a pussy, I’ll always have feelings for you and making love to you would make it even harder to let you go.”
He’s right. I know he is. If I let him have my body, I’m not sure I’d be able to walk away. And I will walk away. I care about him too much to watch him die, which is exactly what would happen if he tried to stop Klutch from taking me.
“I can’t,” I say to the ceiling. “I want you so badly; you have no idea how much. But my world isn’t like yours. The good guys don’t win—they end up in the gutter, just another unsolved murder because the bad guy has connections that run deeper than the law. And that’s not an exaggeration.”
He crawls the rest of the way up my body and lowers to his elbows. Feeling the weight of him floods my mind with memories of sharing his breath, our bodies becoming one, and, oh, my god, the way his cock feels when he’s buried deep inside me. The slight curve meant all my spots were hit, delivering the most intense, emotional orgasms I’ve ever had.
“I’m not the same guy I used to be. Living up here has hardened me. Rowan, one of the guys you met, is a paranoid fuck. He’s retired Special Forces and has some unresolved PTSD that comes out in the form of stockpiling weapons, installing security cameras everywhere, and making sure his friends—meaning me—do the same. He taught me how to shoot, how to hunt, and how to protect myself and my property. If that pussy Klutch even thinks of stepping on my mountain, it’s all the cause I’d need to delete his miserable life from the world.”
“Even if your hypothetical situation happened, it wouldn’t stop with him. Don’t you see? There are hundreds of these assholes all over the country, and every single one would want revenge on you. We’d never be safe.”
“I’d kill every single one of those motherfuckers to protect you, and the world would be better for it.”
He’s dead ass serious, but no matter what he says, he’s not crazy like they are. They have no respect for anything except their code. It wouldn’t be fair of me to bring this to his door. And goddamn it, I’m so sick of crying, but that doesn’t stop the tears from welling.
“I love that you’d be willing to go that far for me, and even though I’d never let that happen, just knowing you care about me that much will help get me through all the hard days ahead.”
I assume he’ll get angry and we’ll fight again before silently eating our dinners and going to bed. I’m definitely not expecting Walker to lower his mouth and kiss me. He’s playful as he nips at my lips before plunging his tongue into my mouth, stroking it against mine in a way that reminds me of all the other ways he used that talented muscle.
“You’re not mad?” I ask against his lips.
He pulls away, lining his still-hard cock up against my center. What is he trying to do? Kill me? Smiling at my obvious irritation, he says, “No, I’m not mad. It just means I haven’t won you over yet. But it’s okay. I still have time.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, Walker. You have to hear me when I say that.”
“Sure thing.” He shrugs lightheartedly before shifting to my side so he can reach under my pants and cup my sex. He doesn’t stroke me or tease me, just holds me there. “Now, what do we do about this?”
“You know what I want you to do,” I say, undulating under his touch.
“If I can’t make you feel good with my cock, guess I’ll have to find another way.”
I nod in agreement. “Yes. Let’s do that.”
“You seem a little frustrated. Would it help if I did this?” This time when I feel his touch, it’s skin to skin as he strokes a finger at my slit.
“Walker,” I grind out.
“Or maybe you want this.” He pulls his hand away, and I nearly cry. But then he sits up on his knees, divesting me of his too-big sweatpants. Once they’re tossed aside, he parts my knees, his attention homing in on the apex of my thighs. I squirm as he licks his lips before lowering his face until he’s hovering over my weeping pussy. “Tell me, Sunny, is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I whine in frustration.
“I need the words.”
“No, you don’t. You’re teasing me. It’s mean.”
“I’m not. Enthusiastic consent—isn’t that what we were taught in sex ed?”
“I’m giving you consent.”
“But I don’t know what the consent is for. Maybe you want me to fuck you with my tongue, or maybe you want me to suck on your clit. You could just want me to flick?—”
“Jesus Christ, I hate you so much right now.” I drape an arm over my eyes. “Walker, will you please eat my pussy like it’s your next meal? I’m giving your tongue, mouth, and fingers complete permission to do whatever it takes to make me come.”
“Atta girl,” he says, and I gasp as he does everything I just gave him approval for. His fingers part my outer lips as his tongue swirls around my clit. “Fuck, I forgot how good you taste and just how pretty this pussy is.”
“Less talking, more eating,” I say, placing a hand on the back of his head and encouraging him forward. The puff of air from his escaping chuckle tickles my most sensitive area, only adding to my arousal.
“And you thought I was demanding.” He pushes his long middle finger inside and hisses. “Goddamn, you’re so tight.”
Pumping in and out, he moans as he flattens his tongue and strokes my clit. I’m not surprised he remembers the way I like to be pleasured; our teenage years were spent learning each other’s bodies. Thankfully, his mom worked a lot, giving us the space and time to explore. And god, did we ever.
He adds another finger, giving me something to hold onto as the beginning waves of an orgasm wash over me. Then his lips are around my clit and he’s sucking, pushing me headfirst over the edge. I free fall into mindless bliss. My toes curl, and I lose my breath as my body fights to hold on, not wanting this feeling to ever end.
He coaxes every last ounce of pleasure from my body, not stopping until I’m shuddering and the sensitivity becomes too much. Reaching over the side of the bed, he finds the discarded sweatpants and uses them to wipe his face. With a cocky grin, he tosses them back on the ground. He lifts to his knees and I sit up, reaching for his waistband, ready to return the favor, but he stops me.
“I can’t have you touch me.”
“That’s stupid. Let me choke on your cock, Walker.” I stroke him over his sweats.
“Fuck.” His head tips back, and it’s obvious he wants it, but still, he removes my hand. “I can’t.”
“Oh.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t help me,” he says.
“How?” My brows furrow in confusion. If I can’t touch him, I can’t make him come. Simple as that.
“Lie back and lift your shirt.” He reaches into his nightstand drawer and produces a bottle of lube. “Play with your tits while I fuck my fist and come all over them.”