31. Chloe
Chapter 31
Chloe
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He’d spent years in this workshop thinking about me. I’d convinced myself I’d meant nothing to him, when in reality, he’d been just as hurt and miserable as I’d been.
God, if only we’d been less stupid.
Here, in his arms, was where I was meant to be. And in hindsight, maybe my convoluted revenge plan had always secretly been an attempt to get back here, to what I needed most.
He tipped my chin up and kissed me, his lips hungry and firm.
Instantly, my body melted into his. How could I go from emotional to horny so quickly? I’d blame the pregnancy, but I had a feeling it was him.
With each touch from him, my body lit from within. Every brush of his fingers, every heave of his chest, sent electricity coursing through me.
We were connected on a physical level I couldn’t understand.
Just the sensation of his hands on my skin had me breathless and grabbing at the waistband of his pants.
“Gus,” I said, desperate for him.
In response to that one-word plea, he rolled my nipple between his fingers, eliciting a gasp from me. He was only touching me over my clothes, and already I was close to combusting.
“Please.”
With far too much ease, he picked me up and placed me on the wide workbench. When I was settled, he took a step back to take his shirt off. I’d never get tired of the hair on his chest or his comforting bulk. His presence was comforting, safe. It was unlike anything I’d experienced before. And it was intoxicatingly sexy.
“Pants too,” I commanded.
Chuckling, he pushed them down and stepped out of them.
When he was finally naked, I wiggled on top of the table. “Get over here.”
He scratched his chin and smiled. “Patience, Dragonfly. You look so damn hot spread out surrounded by my tools. I need a second to appreciate the view.”
My stomach swooped. “Okay, I get it. Lumberjack fantasy unlocked. You want me to wear a flannel shirt too?
“Fuck yes,” he growled, finally stepping closer. With a hand on my hip and another at the back of my neck, he pulled me into a rough kiss.
“You know,” I said as he kissed my neck while deftly unbuttoning my shirt. “That day you chopped wood in town, I was so worked up I went home and played with my toys while imagining you and that axe.”
He froze and pulled back. “Stop and tell me. In detail.”
Lurching forward, I wrapped my arms around his neck and tried to kiss him again.
“Oh no, Dragonfly.” He gently peeled me off him and held me at arm’s length. “I want to hear all about how you touched this pretty pussy thinking about me.”
My entire body heated. This was not the kind of thing I’d usually admit to, but the way he stood before me, naked and hard, made me brave.
I reached out, palming his erection. “I suppose I could,” I said, biting his earlobe. “When I got home that afternoon, I got naked, slid between my sheets, and got my rose.”
My shirt and bra were off now, and I wasn’t sure if that was by design or if they’d fallen off my body because I was so turned on.
“And you thought about me.”
“ Yesss ,” I said, relishing the way his hard, hot length felt in my hand. “About how strong you are and what it felt like to have you inside me.”
“Jesus,” he moaned. “Get your pants off.”
In one quick movement, he picked me up and placed me on the floor. A second later, my shorts and panties had been kicked to the side, and Gus had found a small stepstool.
“Stand here.” He spun me around, helped me up, guided my hands to the workbench, and pressed between my shoulder blades. “That’s a good girl. Now spread wide for me.”
He trailed his fingertips down my spine, making my legs shake, then ghosted over my ass and dipped inside me.
“Soaked already,” he growled, gripping my hip with one hand and lining himself up.
And then he was pushing inside me. I arched my back, gripping the worktop. Fuck, this was hot. The stool was just high enough to put him at the most delicious angle, where I could feel every single bump and ridge of him.
Heat raced up my spine as he looped an arm around my hip and placed his thumb on my clit. When he rubbed softly, I couldn’t stop a long, low moan from escaping.
“Fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t know if I can hold on.”
Knowing he was on the edge of losing control was so damn hot. I wanted him wild and feral and full of lust for me.
“Don’t hold back.”
With his other hand, he gripped my hip so hard it would probably leave bruises. I moaned, my eyes rolling back. Delirious, I pushed back against him, clenching my core muscles, and he thrust hard and fast, leaving me with no choice but to hold on to the table so I didn’t fall off the stool.
“Chloe,” he groaned as his movements became erratic. His frenzy was all it took to send me over the edge. Fireworks exploded sharply inside me, making my vision blur. Shaking, I screamed his name as I came, and as the tremors subsided, his thick length grew harder. Then he was shouting my name and slamming into me one last time, jolting me with pleasure.
I was face down on the workbench, sucking in oxygen, when he scooped me into his arms and carried me through the garage and into the house.
“I can walk,” I protested.
“Doubtful,” he said, looking very pleased with himself.
“Okay, maybe I can’t,” I admitted. My legs were still shaking, and I kind of liked the feeling of being curled up against his hairy chest.
Once we were inside his room, he laid me gently on the bed, then disappeared. When he returned a moment later, he was holding a glass of water.
“We’re hydrating and snuggling,” he declared, settling beside me on the mattress. “And then I’m going to fuck you again, but on the bed so I can take my time.”
I gulped the water, letting it cool my body. We were both completely naked, and I felt no shame at all. In fact, I felt delirious.
“Solid plan,” I said. Putting my glass down.
He pulled the comforter up over us and opened his arms.
With a contented sigh, I settled in against his chest. I’d never considered myself a snuggler, but this giant man furnace was far too irresistible.
I surveyed his nightstand, sizing up the pile of books. Pregnancy, newborns, breastfeeding, childhood brain development. It looked like he’d emptied an entire section of a bookstore.
“You weren’t kidding about the reading you’ve been doing.” I leaned over, snatched the top book, and flipped through it. This one was called Cribsheet and claimed to be a data-driven guide to parenting.
“Nope. You didn’t believe me?” He pulled me closer, kissing my neck as I wiggled up against him. “I know I’m a dumb lumberjack, but I can read.”
My face burned with shame. “No,” I said, locking eyes with him, hoping he could see the sincerity in my expression. “I’m just impressed. Most guys think it’s the woman’s job to figure it all out.”
He sat up, his broad, hairy chest on display, and glared at me. “I’m not most guys.”
My heart thumped hard. He really wasn’t.
“In fact, I’m not a guy at all,” he said. “I’m a father.”
Those three words sent a thrill through me. His commitment to this baby, the initiative he’d taken to read all the books I didn’t have time to get to, was hot.
“The moment you told me, I was flooded with love for this child. I don’t care that he or she is only the size of a blueberry. They’re precious to me, and so are you. So I’m gonna read and learn and study up so I can do the best fucking job possible.”
God, I was in love with this man. How had I not realized it until this moment?
I didn’t know whether to jump him or cry. The hormones were no joke. So I settled on the former.
Sitting up, I pushed him back. As he settled against his pillows, I straddled him and kissed my way down his chest, relishing the way he hardened in response to my attention.
“Yes, you are,” I said. Regarding him from under my lashes, I gave him a slow, sensual lick. “Now I’m going to show you how much I appreciate it.”