Chapter 13 Lennox
LENNOX
The creek wasn’t easy to find unless you already knew where to look. A crooked stretch of land tucked behind the lavender beds, past the old meditation stones and the row of half-dead pine. Most guests didn’t wander this far.
But Naima had found it.
And now… so had I.
The trees thinned just enough for sunlight to streak through in hazy ribbons, glinting off the surface of the creek as it rushed over smooth rocks and fallen branches. The air smelled like cedar and crushed herbs, the kind of scent that calmed your chest before your brain had time to argue.
And there she was.
Perched on a thick blanket, cross-legged, eyes closed. Her soft curls twisted high on her head, loose tendrils brushing her neck. That amethyst crystal rested just above her breasts, glinting like it belonged in the earth itself.
She looked like the wild had made her.
No guests, no other staff. Just us.
Her eyes didn’t open, but her lips curved. Like she felt me there. Like she already knew.
I took a step closer, and she tipped her chin in acknowledgment.
“You’re heavy-footed for a man who sneaks around trees like a shadow,” she murmured, voice low, teasing.
“Didn’t mean to sneak,” I said, stopping at the edge of her blanket. “You looked like a part of the land. I didn’t want to disturb anything.”
“You didn’t.” Her eyes opened slowly, dragging over me in a long, deliberate sweep. “Not anything I wasn’t already waiting for.”
My dick stirred. Hard. Immediate. And suddenly I forgot my purpose in coming out here to find her. Truths stopped mattering because she was everything and she was looking at my need.
Refusing to pretend not to notice.
Naima unfolded herself, rising to her knees, then to her feet with the grace of a dancer. Her dress shifted with the movement, brushing over her curves like the wind didn’t want to let go.
When she stepped into my space, her palm settled on my chest, warm through my shirt. Her other hand slid lower.
And lower.
Until it found me.
The thick length of me pressed against my shorts, already straining, already pulsing.
She stroked me through the fabric, slow and deliberate. Watching me.
I couldn’t breathe right.
Her hand moved with purpose now—up, down, pressure just right, thumb flicking across the tip, even through the barrier. I gritted my teeth, but my hips betrayed me, bucking slightly into her touch.
“Breathe,” she whispered. “Let yourself feel it.”
I didn’t have a choice.
I reached for her, fingers finding the straps of her dress, pulling them down her arms, slow. Her breasts spilled free—rich brown, full, perfect handfuls with tight, aching peaks I needed to taste.
I bent, took one into my mouth, sucking deep, my hand squeezing the other, thumb flicking across her nipple as she kept stroking me—more confident now.
My breath hitched. My eyes damn near crossed.
“Fuck,” I growled against her skin.
Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts. Flesh on flesh.
Hot. Tight. Smooth. She gripped me, bare now, her strokes maddening. Firm. Wet from my own need.
I kissed her hard, mouth greedy, tongue tangling with hers, trying to hold on and give in at the same time. Her other breast pressed against my chest, and I dragged my lips over to it, sucking with the same hunger that clawed at my spine.
We both gasped.
Her hand never stopped moving.
Then—she moved first.
Her hand slid up my thigh again, this time not teasing. “You don’t have to talk,” she whispered. “Just be here.”
The creek roared louder behind us.
She swung one leg over me, straddling my lap, her dress bunched at her hips. Her body was heat and hunger and soft wet velvet.
I cupped her ass in both hands, fingers digging in as she kissed me again—hard, open-mouthed, deep.
And then she sank down onto me.
Slow. So slow.
My eyes slammed shut, jaw locked tight.
“Fuck—”
It wasn’t even a word anymore. Just the sound of something breaking inside me.
She rolled her hips, finding rhythm, her hands braced on my shoulders, her breath hitching right along with mine. Skin slapped skin. The sound of her cheeks clapping against my thighs folded into the music of the creek.
A bird cried out in the trees. And I was gone.
Her body gripped me like she’d been made for this—made for me. She rocked slow, deliberate, her breath catching each time our hips met. Her hands splayed across my chest, grounding herself, while her eyes stayed locked on mine.
I couldn’t look away.
Not from the way her lips parted in pleasure. Not from the sweat beginning to form at her temple.
Not from the quiet, guttural sounds that spilled from her throat—like she was trying to hold them back but couldn’t.
My hands roamed her back, her waist, her thighs. I memorized every shift of her body, every roll of her hips, the way she clenched around me tighter when I whispered her name like it was sacred.
“Naima…”
She leaned down, kissed me again—this time slower, deeper. Her tongue moved with the same rhythm as her hips, and I could taste the truth between us. The hunger. The need. The tenderness neither of us wanted to name yet.
Her name left my mouth again, lower this time. Wrecked.
She was riding me like she knew I was close, like she wanted to see how long I could last before I lost myself completely.
And I was right there.
I sat up, wrapping my arms around her waist, burying my face between her breasts. Her skin was warm and fragrant, her nipples still sensitive as my tongue flicked over one, then the other, even as she kept moving.
“Shit, baby—” I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling myself throb deep inside her.
She arched against me, whispering, “I feel it…”
My grip on her hips tightened. I guided her now, lifting her just enough to feel the slide, then pushing her back down until we both trembled.
The creek roared behind us. Birds called above. But the only sound I truly heard was her.
The moan that tore from her chest when she started to come—
Her body clenching, fluttering around me, dragging my release right out of me with it.
I let go, spilling into her with a groan that rumbled up from someplace ancient. My arms locked around her as we rode the wave together, hips moving even through the aftershocks.
She didn’t pull away.
Didn’t speak.
Just pressed her forehead to mine, both of us panting, trembling, too full of it all to do anything but hold on.
The blanket had slipped beneath us, but neither of us moved.
I stayed inside her. She stayed wrapped around me.
The creek kept rushing. The wind stirred the trees. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel the need to run.
She stayed folded into me, her heartbeat fluttering against my chest, skin damp with sweat and the sun’s warmth. My hands were still curved around her ass, holding her in place like I didn’t want the world to come back.
I didn’t. Not yet.
I pressed a kiss to her temple, closed my eyes, and let the moment stretch, the sounds of the creek filling the silence between us. That water had been running long before we found this place. Before I found her. It would keep running when this was over. And that was the problem.
This peace wasn’t mine to keep. But I wanted it like it was. Like she was.
She shifted slightly, her breath catching again, more sensitive now. I cupped the back of her neck and held her close, pressing my forehead to hers.
“You good?” I murmured.
She nodded, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “Mmhmm.” Her lashes lifted, and those eyes met mine. Soft. Searching. “You?”
I couldn’t answer right away.
I wanted to say yes. That I was more than good. That for the first time in my entire damn life, I felt still. Settled. Like something inside of me had finally landed.
But I was lying to her. Every minute I didn’t tell her the truth, I was lying.
And she deserved more than that.
She deserved everything from me.
I slid my fingers along her spine, kissed her again. This one softer. A whisper against her lips. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Her smile faded slowly. Her eyes held mine for a beat too long.
I wondered if she felt it too. The shift. The weight of whatever this was growing between us, how impossible it would be to walk away untouched.
She sat back, brushing her hair away from her cheek, and finally moved off of me. I missed her warmth instantly, even as she grabbed her water bottle and took a sip. I tucked myself away, still half-hard, my body unwilling to believe it was over. My mind… still chasing what it all meant.
We laid side by side after that, her head on my shoulder, one leg thrown over mine, our bodies cooling beneath the filtered sunlight. Birds moved overhead. The scent of lavender carried through the trees again. Somewhere downstream, water slapped stone.
I thought about all of it—this land, this retreat, the plan my father handed me, the report I hadn’t written. I thought about Micah’s warning. My silence. How I hadn’t told her who I was, what I’d really come here to do.
And I hated myself for it.
Because whatever was growing between us didn’t deserve to rot under a lie.
But if I told her now, I’d lose her.
I could see it. The betrayal in her eyes. The way she’d wrap herself in silence and shut me out. She’d think she was just another target. Another project.
She wouldn’t believe that somewhere in the middle of all this… I fell. Hard.
And that scared the hell out of me. I exhaled slowly, brushing a hand over her back. She made a soft noise, a hum deep in her chest, her fingers curling against my ribs.
If I could stay in this moment forever, I would. But the truth was a shadow creeping closer.
And when it came… I didn’t know if we’d survive it.