9. Knox #2
I bite back a smile, attempting to ignore the giddy heart that tells me this is the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.
I’m perched on his broad back so my feet don’t get wet when we step out into the crisp morning air.
I expect him to head down the usual trail, but instead he leads me around the back of his cabin to a part of his land I haven’t seen yet.
Through a cluster of trees stands a barn. Dark green roof and bigger than I expected, half-hidden in the slope of the mountain.
He unlocks it, and inside, the smell of oil and sawdust greets us.
There are numerous hulking items covered in dark tarp, along with the usual logging machines and tools he needs for his work and for maintaining his land.
But to one side, taking up another hulking space, is a truck.
It’s massive.
Glossy black with mud-splattered tires, chrome shining even in the dim light. A beast of a thing, lifted high, with a flatbed built for hauling half the forest.
Knox opens the passenger door like it’s feather-light, though it looks like it weighs as much as him. “Climb in.”
I scramble up from his back and into the seat. The leather smells of him, musky and warm. The steering wheel looks comically small in his hands when he climbs in beside me.
The engine growls to life, deep and feral, shaking the barn.
I feel the monster engine between my legs, and I can’t help my gasp as it seems to hit all my sensitive parts.
He glances at me, eyes dark, jaw still tense.
“You sure about this, petal?” The question is a grumpy rasp, and I know he’s hoping I say no.
I lean over and pull on his neck until he drops his head.
I kiss him long and deep, until he groans. “Let’s go, Bear.”
I’m not sure whether the thrill coursing through me is anticipation or apprehension. Because something tells me I’m about to see a whole new side of my Bear.
The truck growls down the mountain, a steady, rumbling heartbeat under my thighs.
The world opens wider than I’ve ever seen it, ridge after ridge rolling into the distance, pine needles gleaming in the morning light.
The air feels different down here—brighter and sweeter—and for a moment I forget about my aching body, the socks swallowing my calves... this fantasy limbo status I’m existing in.
Then we crest a bend, and I see it.
A meadow with wildflowers splashed in every shade of gold and violet spreads out below. It’s the kind of place you stumble across in dreams. It’s far enough from the cabin to feel separate, tucked against the slope, sunlight pooling over it like honey.
I press my forehead against the glass and drink it in, wondering why my chest tightens strangely, like I’ve found something I didn’t know I was looking for.
Something that matters.
I shake the thought off before it can take root. I’ve got bigger problems than pretty fields.
The town comes into view a while later, tucked in the valley. Smoke curling from chimneys, cars that look like matchboxes from here moving on semi-busy streets. Humans going about their daily lives.
Civilization.
“Do you... go down there much?” I ask, glancing at Knox.
His jaw ticks. “Not often.”
“Do you... have friends?”
The tick intensifies. “No.”
“Anyone who visits you then, sometimes?” He mentioned he hadn’t had sex in five years, so I’m guessing no women. But male buddies?
His hands tighten on the wheel. “No one I want to see.”
The short, curt answers slam into me like a wall. I bite the inside of my cheek and stare out the window again. The silence grows heavier with every curve of the road, tension filling the cab like a storm waiting to break.
By the time we’re close, he’s slowed the truck to a crawl.
My stomach knots.
When I slide my hand onto his arm, his muscles are taut, steel under my palm. “It’s going to be fine, Bear.”
His eyes cut to me, feral in the dim cab. Searching. Frantic. “Is it?”
“Yes,” I say firmly. “Why wouldn’t it be? You know these men, don’t you?”
“Sure,” he says, caustic. “Never brought my woman around them, though. So no, I’m not convinced it’s going to be fine, petal.”
My woman.
That slams through me hotter than it should. His tone’s sharp, his eyes wild, and I shouldn’t like it. Shouldn’t .
But I do.
Heat coils low in my belly, shameful and thick. I squirm in my seat, not-so-secretly thrilled at his caveman jealousy.
Then his mouth twists. “Need another kiss, woman. Keep me from going fucking insane.”
Before I can answer, he drags me across the bench seat and into his lap.
His mouth devours mine, hot and dirty, his tongue plunging past my lips like he owns me. I moan against him, my thighs straddling his jeans.
His hand slides under the flannel tied at my waist, under his T-shirt, pushing between my legs. I gasp when his fingers press into me, already wet, already wanting.
“That’s it,” he growls against my mouth. “Moan for me. Let them hear it when we roll up. Let them smell you on me. Let them know you’re mine.”
I whimper as his thumb circles my clit, his thick fingers stroking inside me. His beard scrapes my neck when he kisses down my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
“Bear—” I gasp, clutching his shoulders.
“Louder, petal,” he demands, curling his fingers just right.
I cry out, my body shuddering, release flooding his hand. My nails dig into his flannel, and he groans like I’ve fed him something he’s starved for.
When I sag against him, boneless and shaking, he pulls his hand free, smears my slick through his beard, then on his jeans, and grips the wheel again with the same hand.
His breathing slows. His shoulders ease.
The storm in him shifts to something calmer, darker, satisfied.
He smirks, eyes on the road again. “Promise me you’ll stay in the truck. Don’t know how I’ll feel if they see you like this.”
I shiver, ashamed and aroused all over again.
Because a part of me wants them to see.
Knox
Gravel crunches under the tires as I bring the truck to a stop. It’s not far enough away from the other men’s trucks for my liking, but that can’t be helped.
The logging men are already there, stacked in their pickups, axes and saws gleaming.
I kill the engine and let the silence stretch.
Heads turn. A few nods. A few stares.
Then they see Lily.
She’s still in my seat, on my lap, with her hair tangled from my hands, cheeks still flushed. She looks wrecked and innocent all at once, and my chest tightens.
They’re looking... staring too fucking long.
I squeeze Lily’s hip once more, just to feel her softness, then pick her up and set her back in her seat. “Not going far. Stay put.”
The growl’s already in my throat when I climb out. My shadow stretches across the ground, and most of them get the hint. Eyes drop and the mutters freeze up.
“Hunter,” one calls, tipping his hat. “You ready?”
“Let’s go,” I grunt.
The morning blurs into rhythm as chainsaws bite into pine. Axes swing, and beautiful logs fall. The scent of sap and sawdust thickens the air.
I work fast, faster than normal. Want to be done with this and headed back up my mountain with my treasure.
I split wood clean and fast, the way I always do. My body remembers the motions even if it’s been weeks, because I work like I fight—steady, brutal, and efficient.
But every few minutes I glance back at the truck. At her.
She’s got the window cracked, elbow perched there, staring out like she’s watching a movie. Sunlight kisses her hair. Her lips are pink, parted, green eyes sparkling. My chest tightens all over again.
Fuck me, but she’s beautiful.
My petal.
I never thought I’d be glad someone got caught in my snare.
But here she is. Mine.
Halfway through, I throw the chainsaw down and stalk back to her, craving the need to feed her, keep her strong. Happy. “You hungry, baby?”
Her eyes are shining, and she nods. “I could eat.”
I stride to the back of the truck, drag out the cooler and the sandwiches, jerky, and fruit I prepared earlier. I fill up her plate, open her door, and brace myself in the doorway so I block the view of the eyes I can feel staring at her.
I watch her nibble an apple slice. She smiles at me like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted.
I want to kiss the juice off her mouth. But the men are watching, and I don’t trust myself not to kill one of them if they stare too long.
“Enjoying yourself?”
“It all looks so cool. Your efficiency is... hot.”
She licks her lips, and my cock jumps. Fuck it. I lean in and steal a kiss, with a little tongue, watch her face pinken and her breathing grow short. And the fact that she stares at me, mouth gaping and hungry like she wants more?
That sustains the feral beast prowling just beneath the surface as I go back to work.
The last couple of hours drag balls, but the pile of timber grows as sweat drips down my spine, muscles screaming, but it’s nothing compared to the burn in my chest every time I catch her eyes on me.
Then she does the last fucking thing I want her to do.
I hear the subtle creak of the passenger door opening, and my head whips around as Lily jumps down. Slams the truck door behind her.
She stretches her arms overhead, sighing like she’s stepped out of a cage. Unfurling her petals under the sun.
The whole clearing goes dead silent.
Every man freezes.
I can’t blink through the red haze covering my eyes because I... can’t let her out of my sight even for a nanosecond.
“Get back in the truck, Lily.” My voice cracks like a whip.
She startles, blinks at me. “I just needed to stretch?—”
“Now.”
I drop the axe, stalk across the clearing. The men part like grass in the wind, no one daring to meet my eyes.
“Time,” I bark over my shoulder. “Finish up without me.”
No one argues.
I grip Lily’s arm, not hard but firm enough she knows I mean it. She looks up at me, wide-eyed.
“Bear—”
“Not now.”
I haul her to the truck, throw the door open, all but lift her inside. My blood’s boiling, chest heaving, every instinct screaming at me for being stupid enough to bring her here.
As I circle to the driver’s side, one of the more decent men of the bunch clears his throat. Older guy, kind enough, not stupid enough to step closer. And most definitely not looking at my woman.
“Hey, Hunter,” he says carefully. “Me and the guys were thinking... it’ll be good to see you at the Harvest Fair. Kicks off next weekend. It’s been a while since you came. Just saying... if you fancy it?”
I don’t answer. Don’t even look at him. I climb into the cab, slam the door, fire up the engine. He jumps back as I shove the truck into reverse.
We peel out, gravel spitting.
For a while, it’s just the roar of the truck and the pounding in my chest.
Then her voice, quiet. “Are we gonna talk about that?”
“No.”
She sighs. A flash of terror rolls through me, but when I glance out the corner of my eye... fuck me, she’s not upset. Hell, the corner of her lush, fuckable mouth is ticked up. Like she’s... happy.
I swallow, keep my eyes on the track.
“What did he mean? What Harvest Fair is he talking about?”
Her question lances through me, sharp and merciless.
Because I know the truth. Everything that I feared is unraveling. She was curious about logging. Now she’s curious about the town? The fucking fair?
What if... what if...
I can’t finish the terrifying thought. Can only stomp harder on the gas.
It was a mistake bringing her.
A mistake letting anyone see her.
A mistake that could cost me everything.
And everything inside me screams that I should’ve kept her locked away on the mountain.