Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Travis
“I like it out here. It’s peaceful. Quiet,” Isla says, her eyes everywhere but on me. I never thought I’d be jealous of my view.
We’re on my back deck overlooking the yard, the workshop at the back of the lot, and the forest beyond. I made steak, corn on the cob, and baked potatoes for dinner.
I had the momentary thought that perhaps I should take her to some fancy restaurant for our first official date, but decided not to because that’s not who I am. If this thing with Isla is going to go anywhere, I want her to get to know the real me, not some manufactured version of myself.
That’s not to say I don’t want to do nice things for her and make her feel special. But my way of doing that isn’t to spend a lot of money on an overpriced meal that tastes as good as or worse than something I can make at home.
We’ve shared stories over dinner, and it’s clear that we’re becoming more comfortable with each other, getting back to how we were that first night at the bowling alley when I finally let my guard down with her.
Hearing her say that she likes my homestead sends another bolt of pride through my chest. “Really? My brothers act like I live in the middle of nowhere when really, I’m a ten-minute drive from town.”
She looks at the towering trees. “It’s nice. There’s room to breathe out here. I can see why you like it so much. Plus, I’d think it would be hard to find somewhere in town where you could have a workshop that size.”
I think back to when I showed Isla my workshop. It’s not as though no one has ever complimented me on my furniture before, and I’m always grateful. But for some reason, when Isla did, it really got to me. I felt a mix of pride and embarrassment at the attention, but also relief that she sees value in what I spend my time doing.
“Yeah, a regular garage wouldn’t suffice. I’ve always been an outdoorsman, so I would’ve likely ended up somewhere like here anyway, but the size of that outbuilding sealed the deal for this place.” I lift my beer to my lips.
“How did you get into woodworking in the first place?”
I relax back into my seat. “My grandpa. He was the first one to show me some stuff and let me muck around in his garage. My brothers were never interested, and when I was, he kept showing me more and more things. I took woodworking shop through high school, and that’s when I fell in love with it.”
She smiles at me and lifts her beer, taking a sip. “I don’t know your grandpa that well, though he seems lovely, but your grandma is so awesome. I love her.”
Warmth spreads through my chest. One of the things you worry about when you start off with someone new is how they’ll get on with your family. It seems with Isla, we already have that covered, since my brothers and my grandma already seem to love her.
“My grandparents are the best. They had a big hand in raising me and my brothers. My parents were working so much that they took care of us after school every day.”
She smiles. “That’s really nice that you can have that kind of relationship with them.”
I nod. “Agreed. I’d do anything for those two.”
There’s a beat of silence, then Isla pushes her chair back from the table and stands. A shot of adrenaline hits my system. Is she leaving already?
“You made dinner, so it’s only fair that I clean up.” She takes her plate, then comes around the table to grab mine. “That was delicious. Thank you for making it.”
When she reaches down to take my plate off the table, I grip the other side. “You’re my guest. I don’t want you cleaning up.”
“Travis, you went through all the trouble of making the meal. The least I can do is clean up.”
I shake my head.
“Fine, how about you put all the condiments away since I don’t know where they go while I rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher?”
I sigh. “Fine, deal.”
She gives me a cheeky grin for getting her way, then takes the plate from me and heads to the sliding glass door before disappearing inside. I gather the salt, pepper, butter, and sour cream from the table and join her in the kitchen. She’s at the sink, rinsing the plates with the dishwasher door open to her right.
God, I want so badly to slip in behind her and tuck my face into her neck, but something is stopping me. I haven’t been physical with her all night, unsure whether or not she wants me to be.
I stand for a beat, just watching her in my kitchen. In my space. She’s so beautiful, my chest aches from the amount of time we’ve already lost. I barely know her but feel like I do at the same time.
I put the condiments away, and when I’m done, I look back at her. Unable to resist the urge, I walk up behind her and press into her back, sliding my hand over her ponytail and tugging gently to give myself access to her neck, burrowing my face in to inhale her scent.
She stills for a second but relaxes back into me with a sigh. Almost as though she’s been holding her breath all night, waiting for me to touch her like this. When she arches her ass out, my dick swells in my shorts, remembering how she looked and felt the last time I took her from behind. I nip the skin on her neck with my teeth and am rewarded by a loud moan.
“I could fuck you right here. There’s never a time when my eyes are on you that I don’t want to take you.”
A huff of air whooshes out of her. “Why don’t you then?”
A growl rolls up my throat. “You think I won’t? Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, Isla.”
She pushes her ass out against me again, and that’s all the encouragement I need. I quickly slide her shorts and underwear down her legs, and she steps out of them, kicking them to the side while I pull my T-shirt off from behind my head and pull my wallet from the back pocket of my shorts before I push my pants down.
The tap is still running as I roll the condom down my length. Isla arches her ass out, mine for the taking, and after sliding my fingers between her legs to make sure she’s ready, I widen my stance to line myself up, then I plunge into her, balls deep.
I hold myself still inside her, both to give her time to adjust to my size and to give myself time not to blow my load right away and embarrass myself because she feels so fucking perfect. Just like she did the first time.
I realize then that I’ve felt as if I’ve been holding my breath underwater since the last time I was inside her, and only now have I risen to the surface and come up for air.
Finally, she whimpers and moves her hips, desperate for me to move again. I slowly drag my length out of her, then thrust back into her—hard. Isla cries out, gripping the edge of the sink to the point that her knuckles turn white. Again, I drag myself out of her slowly and ram back in.
I do it over and over until Isla cries out, “More. Harder.”
Being that I aim to please, I do as she asks. I fuck her in earnest, holding her hips tightly. I always thought my hands were meant for woodworking, but I was wrong—they were meant to mold to Isla’s hips.
“Touch yourself, honey. Make yourself come while I fuck you hard from behind.”
Her head drops at my words, eyes closed, and she does as I say, slipping her hand between her and the counter to rub her clit. In moments, the first flutters of her orgasm build, her core tightening around me. Then she’s crying out, pushing back against me as she comes.
I pull all the way out of her, and she whimpers in frustration, but if I keep myself inside her now, she’s going to milk my cock clean, and I’m not ready for that. I want this time to last longer now that we’re not worried about someone showing up and interrupting us.
When she’s come down from her orgasm, I pick her up, bride style.
Isla chuckles in my arms as I walk us out of the kitchen. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to my bedroom so I can take my time with you.”
She places her hand on my cheek. “I like the sound of that.”
“You’ll like the feel of it even more, trust me.”