Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Willow
I wake up aching in all the best places.
It takes me a second to remember why. But then it all comes rushing back.
The way he touched me, like he couldn’t quite believe I was real.
The way he kissed every inch of me as if I were something to be worshiped instead of used and tossed aside.
And the way he fucked me like he’d never be able to get enough.
I stretch my arms over my head and let my body feel every delicious ache and strain in my muscles.
The soreness between my thighs is the perfect reminder of him, and what we did out there against that tree like two people who’d finally had enough and couldn’t hold back anymore.
And that’s exactly what it had been.
Because somewhere between him carrying me into the cabin, patching up my feet, and making me tea every morning like I was someone worth protecting, I’d stopped thinking of this as temporary and started to get comfortable.
That should scare me more than it does. I’ve never been comfortable a day in my life. Not with a man, and definitely not with one I owe. It doesn’t matter how many times Cal tells me I don’t owe him anything; I can’t shake it.
Organizing his shop helped. But it wasn’t much considering what he’s done for me.
Still, it makes me feel a little less useless.
So instead of overthinking what it meant that we’d finally given in to the building feelings between us, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
A small smile tugs at my lips as the warmth spreads through me.
I have no idea how long this will last, or even what it is, so I might as well enjoy it while I can.
No man has ever made me feel the way Cal does.
Like he wants me. And not what I can give him or what I can do for him.
But like I matter.
And it didn’t stop when we finally came inside last night. We sat on the couch, the dog curled on the floor beside us, and talked like it was the most natural thing in the world. Comfortable.
There’s that word again.
I let my gaze travel to the closed—and locked—bedroom door.
Cal insisted.
Even when I asked him if he’d like to sleep next to me, he’d simply shaken his head and sent me to bed, but not until he’d given me a tender kiss on the forehead.
As if simply thinking about him summoned him, there’s a knock on the door.
“You awake?”
His voice is deep and rough and has the ability to make me feel a fresh spark of desire low in my belly with two simple words.
“I am.”
There’s a moment of hesitation before he says, “The water’s on for tea.”
I consider inviting him into his own bed to wake me up properly, but I already know without asking, he won’t cross that line.
I’m not sure why or what it is that’s created the line, but despite my early confusion and frustration with it, now there’s something about Cal’s certainty and steadiness that makes me feel safe and protected in a way I didn’t know I could.
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll be right there.”
There’s a pause and then a grunt of acceptance before I hear his footsteps head back toward the kitchen.
I dress in another of his oversized shirts, this one tied in a knot under my breasts, and tug on my own cut-off shorts, leaving my hair falling over my shoulders before I join him in the kitchen.
The sight of him standing at the sink, his back to me, nearly knocks the breath out of me all over again, because now I know exactly what’s under that fitted black t-shirt.
I’ve run my hands over those hard abs, I felt every inch of his body pressed up against mine, and dammit, if the mere sight of him didn’t reignite every single one of those memories.
He turns slowly, his hair still damp from the shower, a mug in one hand. Those dark eyes lock on me while his lips curl up into a grin.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” I dip my head, suddenly and unexpectedly shy. Heat rushes through me so fast, it’s completely ridiculous considering how this man had me naked, pressed up against a tree, and screaming through my orgasm less than twenty-four hours ago.
His gaze drifts over me before returning to my face. The usual hardness in his gaze has softened into something warmer.
“Did you sleep well?” He hands me the mug he was holding. “Milk and sugar.”
His attention to detail hits me in the chest. “Thank you.” I inhale deeply and let the aroma wash over me. “I slept very well.”
I stop short of adding how much better I would have slept with his arms around me, but something tells me we’re not quite there yet.
Will we ever be?
I take a sip of the hot tea to keep from asking the totally inappropriate question. I swallow and say, “Did you?”
Cal shrugs. “The chair is actually more comfortable than it looks.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I’m kidding.” He holds up his hand to stop me, and I see the glint in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he adds, softer this time. “Really. I want you to feel safe here.”
“I do,” I say without hesitation and realize exactly how true the statement is. “But you don’t have to sleep on the chair,” I add. “I mean, not now that we…I mean. I just…”
“It’s okay.” He takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us.
“I know what you’re saying.” He cups my cheek so gently, it takes everything in me not to close my eyes and lean into his touch.
His thumb is pleasantly rough on my skin as he strokes soft circles before leaning in to kiss me softly.
A sigh slips from my lips as I sink into the easy kiss, my body remembers the feel of him immediately as my mouth opens to accept his tongue and deepen the kiss.
I hardly even notice as he takes the mug of hot tea from my hand and sets it on the table before reaching for me with both hands.
My body melts into his as Cal’s huge hands span across my back, his thumbs finding the bare skin on my midriff, already heated in anticipation of more.
My own hands are traveling over the hard ridges of his abs, dipping lower to the button of his jeans. I can feel the hard press of his massive cock on my belly, and more than anything, I want to free him from the restraint of the denim.
We’re all fumbling fingers as I tug his t-shirt off and he lifts mine up and over my head as I go to work on the button and zipper of his jeans.
“Oh shit, Willow,” he groans as I wrap my hand around his thick, silken length. “Fuck, that feels good.”
I can’t disagree as I stroke him until he shudders and tugs on my shorts, shoving them down to my feet.
“You’re going to be the death of me, woman.” His voice is gruff and only barely controlled as he lifts me easily and carries me to the kitchen table.
My ass barely hits the hardwood before he’s pushing his thick head into my soaking wet folds.
I groan as he drives into me, my eyes rolling back in my head.
It’s only been a few hours since we’ve done this, but it’s already been far too long. I tighten my legs around his waist and lie back on the solid table as Cal looms over me.
“I can't get enough of you.” His eyes are locked on mine as he pulls himself out, slowly dragging over every sensitive inch, before one more push in slowly, until I’m so stuffed by his massive size I can hardly breathe. “I dreamed of this,” he says, thrusting. “Of you. All night long.”
A cry rips from my throat as he bottoms out and hits that special spot deep inside me.
“Tell me you thought of me,” he orders.
“All night,” I say without hesitation. “The bed was too big without you.” Something flashes in his eyes as he thrusts into me. Hard. I force my gaze to stay locked on his. “I needed you,” I add. “I needed your cock.”
His pupils blow wide, and a growl rumbles in his chest at my words. “Fuck, Willow. You’re going to be the absolute ruin of me.”
The raw passion in his voice is going to be my ruin.
“Yes,” is all I can manage to get out as Cal increases his pace, driving me back into the table until I feel my climax starting to slam through me without any warning.
I don’t hold back as the scream rips from my throat.
“Fuck, that’s hot, darling.”
Cal grips my hips even tighter and follows me over the edge a second later.
His hot seed pulses in thick waves, filling me, and for the second time in as many days, the thought of birth control floats through my head, but just as I did yesterday, I push it away.
I’m on the pill, and while maybe the responsible thing to do would be to use a condom, we’re long past responsible here.
Cal grips tightly on my hips, holding me in place as we both work to regain our breath and come back to ourselves.
After a moment, Cal swipes a lock of hair back from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear with so much tenderness, it sparks an entirely new feeling deep inside that has nothing to do with lust.
“That was a good morning that I wasn’t expecting,” he says, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, “but I’m certainly not complaining.”
When I look up into his eyes, the genuine care and concern and…something else I can’t identify almost takes my breath away. It takes me a second to recover before I say, “Neither am I,” and offer him a small smile, when what I really want to do is ask him why. Why me? Why this? Why now?
The old me would’ve run from this. Or made a joke of it. Anything to keep from feeling what was actually happening.
I find myself opening my mouth instead, those very questions on the tip of my tongue, when the sharp ring of a cell phone breaks the silence.