Chapter Four
Buck
The second I met Opal, I knew we had a connection. It wasn’t anything we had in common, the way she looks, or the way she unapologetically speaks. It clearly wasn’t our generational similarities, or the youthful glow about her.
It was something more than all of that. Something I’ve written dozens of songs about. It was a feeling, a connection, an invisible bond, an unintentional attachment neither of us was expecting. When I saw her, I knew. When she spoke, it was clear. And when we spent time together, there was no doubt in my mind that we’d known each other in lifetimes before this.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tight against my chest as she moans into my mouth.
Fuck… I’ve waited so damn long for this. Night after night, dreaming about her lips, wondering what they’d taste like, what she’d sound like, what her tiny, curved frame would feel like against me.
The scene of snow-capped mountains and the babbling stream disappear as I kiss her soft lips, and my mind goes blank. On the one hand, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. On the other, I’m terrified that I don’t have the strength to stop myself from taking her. She’s too close. The lavender on her skin is too sweet. The warmth of her breath is too perfect.
I kiss her harder, pushing my fingertips through her hair as she moans low in my mouth. Jesus, that moan. That sweet, soft, breathy moan. I’m not gonna make it.
My heart hammers against my chest and I growl, pulling her in tighter as my hand wanders down her frame, across the curve of her ass, and onto her thigh. I’ve thought about these thighs far too much over the year. What they’d taste like, what they’d feel like, what they’d smell like when she’s excited.
For a second, I wonder if I should be honest about how often I’ve jerked off to the thought of us together. Would that turn her on or have her running for the hills? She’s so young. It would probably disgust her. Hell, I’m disgusting myself a little. What the hell am I thinking? She’s so perfect. Her skin is so soft. She should be with a man her age. A man who isn’t exhausted by ten p.m.
“You feel so good,” she pants, leaning her neck back to make room for my teeth on her throat.
My cock pulses against my leg as I tighten my grip on her thigh. “Fuck, sweetheart. You have no clue how bad I need you.”
She sighs and grinds her hips up against my swollen cock that’s still tucked away in my jeans. “I need you too.” Her voice is frantic, almost as though she’s as desperate as me.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Rubbing my thumb across her pretty pink lips, I slide my opposite hand under her dress, squeezing her thighs with a growl before sliding up against her cotton panties. Clearly, I’m doing a great job at controlling myself.
“I’ve never needed to come more,” she pants, dragging my thumb into her mouth. “I need to taste you, Buck.” I massage the outer lips of her pussy through her soaking panties. She’s so fucking wet.
“Sweetheart, I’m gonna lose it. We should get outta here before I take this too far, too soon.” It’s the last warning I have. The final bit of strength left before I crash into her and take what I want… what I’ve been wanting.
She grinds her hips up against my hand and moans. “Okay, we can go back to my place. I just… touch me right there… just for a second.”
“Right there?” I press harder, sneaking behind the fabric, touching her soft crease for the very first time. She’s soft and warm, like crushed velvet, and I think I might explode. Fuck, she feels good.
Her small hand rubs over my hard cock and I slide inside of her, slipping through her soaking entrance and into a wonderland of perfection.
“Oh God,” she moans. “Yes… right there.”
I know I should pull out. I know I should pick her up and leave, that we should finish this behind closed doors, but I can’t stop touching her. I can’t pull away.
“Your cock is huge,” she moans, holding me tight against her frame as she strokes me through my jeans.
I sink into her further, pumping my fingers in and out of her soaking pussy. “And you’re super fucking tight—”
I’ve barely gotten the words out when I hear a rustling in the bushes behind us.
The bear?
I turn back to check, hoping the noise is just a very large squirrel or a hungry raccoon. Instead, I’m met with three grown men snapping photos with expensive looking cameras.
What the fuck!
“Come on, sweetheart.” I wrap Opal in the blanket, leaving the basket behind. It’s one thing to follow me out to the ranch, or to the grocery store. It’s another to come all the way out here. How the hell did they even find me? I was watching for stragglers.
Fuck!
Opal glances up at me with raised brows as she stacks the proverbial bricks back up around her. “Should we run?”
Before I can answer, there’s a balding man wearing jeans and a hoodie coming toward us. I’ve seen this guy before. He’s part of the group that follows me around Nashville. This isn’t our first altercation either. A few months ago, he followed me into the men’s room attempting to get a picture of my cock. I’m guessing he’d sell that on the dark web somewhere. These people know no boundaries.
“Come on, man.” I turn toward him and give him a warning. “Not now.”
He doesn’t seem to care. He gets closer and closer until he’s nearly touching me with the heat of the flash. I was perplexed by this tactic when I first started being photographed, but my agent told me their goal is to get me riled up. Apparently, they make more money when they catch a shot of me going crazy. Casual and relaxed photos won’t sell.
You’d think me fingering a much younger woman on the side of a mountain would be enough for them to work with. Apparently, they’re craving more.
Holding my arm up to shade the flash, I try and keep my cool. It’s a flashing light, Opal is covered, we’re ten feet from the truck, and all this will be over in a few minutes.
Except… this guy takes his job a bit too far. He steps in front of Opal just slightly and she trips to the side. I reach for her, but she’s already tripped into the stream. Her hair is covered in leaves, her clothes are soaking wet, and I’m fucking pissed.
I’m going to murder these people.
Stepping into the stream, I pull Opal from the water. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” she says with a nod, but I see the sadness on her face. I see her going back into her shell, and I fear these assholes ruined everything.
The man with the camera flashes again and again… so I do the thing I’ve been told not to do. I lose my shit.
I rip the camera out of his hand, smash it against a rock on the riverbank, punch the man in the jaw, and stand over him as I shout, “Come near either of us again and I’ll do worse than that! Understand?”
He nods, and while I’d like to say no one is going to know about this little outburst, the other two are still filming, though they’re smart enough to back away, making it impossible for me to go after their cameras.
Something tells me this was their plan all along. They’re probably working together.
“Fuck!” I lift Opal into my arms, carrying her up toward the truck. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. This isn’t how I saw the afternoon going. I thought we’d have a nice picnic, and I… I didn’t expect this.”
“It’s okay. Really.” She shivers as I set her into the truck, then make my way around to start up the engine and blast the heat.
“Come on over here.” I slide her toward me, holding her soaking frame beneath my arm. “If you want to strip down, I have blankets in the back, or we can stop and—”
“No, really, I’m okay. Let’s just go home.”
She doesn’t sound upset or sad. Instead, it sounds worse. The crème de la crème of pain. The worst of emotional turmoil.
Disappointment… and I have no idea how to fix it.