4. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Blyth
“ W hat the hell is he even doing in there?” I mutter to myself. For some reason, in all of my self-run scenarios of how this would go, I never considered that he might just not answer the door.
Did I think I would need to be persuasive? Yeah.
Insistent? Absolutely.
Annoying as fuck? I can’t wait.
Being completely stonewalled was not on my bingo card, but I am nothing if not resourceful. No damn door is going to keep me away from the man I need to torture into a tux. Even if Tilly told me it was okay, her tears made it clear that Murphy skipping the wedding was a disaster and, come hell or high water, I’m determined to make sure my bestie’s wedding is perfect.
With a huff, I bunch my muscles and lift onto my feet. The porch swing creaks, swinging slowly back and forth as I walk down the stairs to survey the area.
Surely, there has to be another answer, and I’m going to find it. I wince when I bite down hard on my lower lip. Ouch. Get it together, Blyth. My eyes survey the area, and it seems like the perfect time to do a bit of exploring.
“You can hide Murphy. But I’m going to find you.”
Stunning gold leaves make the most satisfying crunch as I wander the perimeter of his house. They swish behind me as I kick them up in a beautiful sea of fall glory, making my heart lighter with every step. The house is even larger than I first thought, and I turn the corner, ambling down the lengthy side of the a-frame house. Intricate mosaic tile work lines the sides, the colorful patterns bright and cheery against the dark wood. I want to pause and study them, but right now, I’m on a mission.
The back porch comes into view, complete with a pretty hammock that sways in the cool mountain breeze. Damn, this place is amazing. The trees rustle, and forest sounds surround me, bringing with them absolute calm as I gaze out over Murphy’s domain. The house is completely isolated; it’s like camping but fancy. There’s nothing but wilderness and peace. What I wouldn’t give to live somewhere like this instead of at the Lustre Lake B&B.
Not that I’ll live there forever.
Two little chipmunks run back and forth across the porch railing, gathering a line of nuts that were left out, and my heart squeezes at the idea of the big, rugged mountain man leaving a trail of treats for the cute creatures. Pushing the sudden warm, squishy feelings aside, I consider my options.
“What would send the message that you need to deal with me?” I wonder aloud. My fingers glide along the banister as I climb the three stairs up to the hammock. It’s been way too long since I’ve relaxed on one of those. The wood is sanded to perfection, impossibly smooth and satisfying. Wandering around, my gaze snags on a little empty pot by the backdoor.
Please tell me he left a key there. It would be perfect.
A zip of excitement pulses through me and I rush over, nearly tripping in my haste. The cool pot is a little rough—and empty inside. Damn. Not to be deterred, I lift it and continue my search. Of course, there isn’t anything under it either.
But I still have options.
We’re in the middle of nowhere. The door might just be unlocked…
Reaching up, I grasp the handle and give it a quick turn, holding my breath as it releases, then clicks, swinging free. The house beyond the doorway is dark and I can’t see much. Boots line the walls, and multiple jackets are hanging on hooks. It seems to be some kind of mudroom. My foot hesitates on the precipice.
Do I dare enter? Is this taking it too far?
My hand runs through my hair, pulling sharply to get a knot out of the bright blue end. I untangle it, then roll my shoulders back. I came all this way and I’m leaving with a groomsman.
With a deep breath, I push into the house and holler at the top of my lungs.
“Honey, I’m home!”
I half expect a big dog to come barreling out of nowhere or an angry mountain man with a gun, but none of that happens. The house remains quiet and still, and for the first time, I wonder if maybe my intuition is completely off.
That is, until the sound of running water hits my ears. Like a melody that cannot be ignored, I heed the rhythmic pounding until I arrive at a surprisingly immaculate bedroom. The space is decked out in all different shades of blue, from vibrant aquas to soft, floaty sky tones. It’s like the sea meeting the sky—calm and serene, like being outdoors. This man surely has an eye for art.
A loud grunt sounds from the bathroom, and without thinking first, I peer through the doorway.
Murphy stands under the stream while it pounds over him, slicking his muscular back and making him shine through the glass door. Veins pop in his arm as he washes himself, moving faster and faster. It takes me a moment to realize what’s going on, and then he lets out a sound that sends shockwaves straight to my pussy. He roars his pleasure, and my core slickens with need as white ropes of sticky cum jet onto the wall. My mouth goes dry as desire causes a flush to overtake my body. And true to my lack of impulse control, the words just spew from me.
“Good show, Sailor.”
Murphy turns my way, his eyes narrowing and filling with anger.
Shit.