6. Sawyer
6
SAWYER
I put on my jacket and boots and step out, ready to chop some wood, my belly satisfied with the bacon and egg breakfast roll. Snow crunches under my boots as I step down from the wooden porch and onto the back, where the axe sticks out of a tree stump. With just me, I’ve not kept a fire going, but now Angelica’s here, I want to make sure the cabin is warm.
I lift the axe above my shoulder and bring it down with some force onto a block of wood, splitting it in half. Repositioning the wood, I chop it again, hacking away at the log and taking all my frustration out on it.
Back in the kitchen, I almost lost control for a split-second. I wanted to tell her she never has to go back to a job she hates, because I’m gonna take care of her. But the way I want to take care of her is more than financial.
I bring the axe down again with a roar. I want to treat her like a woman deserves to be treated and wake her up every morning with my beard tickling the inside of her thighs. Another roar rumbles from my lips as I bring the axe down on a fresh block of wood.
Visions of her naked in the fucking shower are still at the front of my mind, and staying here is a bad idea. I should pack up my shit now and stay with Draven. I could walk to the bar from here, I don’t even need to take the bike. But hearing her plead with me to stay broke me. I could never deny her anything she wanted.
Fear grips me by the throat. Sweat trickles down my back like an ice cube sliding down my spine. If I stay here, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep the beast in me at bay, before I give in and take care of my sweet little angel in the way I need to take care of her.
Her dad would kill me for even looking at her that way. Let alone having these wicked thoughts. But death would be worth it for just one lick of her sweet pussy.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be into girls after all, saving me from her dad’s wrath. I huff as I bring the axe down onto another log, the thought of her and another girl turning me on even more.
“Hey,” she shouts.
Something hits me on the back. I turn around and look up at the porch and smile at her in a wooly hat. A knitted rainbow scarf hangs over a plaid print fleece coat.
She’s gathering more snow from the railing with a giggle bursting from her mouth.
“You think that’s funny?” I drop the axe against the tree stump and scoop up a handful of snow, patting it into a ball. “You’d better run, angel.”
She squeals as she jumps from the last step on the back porch and runs around the side of the cabin.
I chase after her, flakes of snow hitting my face as I aim the snowball in her direction. It hits her back, and she yelps, then turns to aim one at me, which I dodge. She runs down the lane, trudging through the heavy snow in her trainers, her jeans darkening around the hem where they’re getting wet.
She’s only a few feet in front of me, but I slow down, liking the chase, and scoop another handful of snow into my palm. She stops running and turns to face me, out of breath, moulding another ball between her palms.
“I said you’d better run, angel.”
“Or what?”
A groan rumbles in the back of my throat. Is my angel a little brat? My dick twitches at the challenge. But I can’t say what I want to say. I can’t do what I want to do, and I can’t think what I’m thinking now; intrusive thoughts of catching her, carrying her into the cabin, stripping her bare by the fire and spanking her pretty ass pink before I kiss the dimples above her cheeks, then make her come on my tongue.
“Well?” she pants out the word as we stare off.
“When I catch you, there’s no telling what I’ll do.” I throw the ball, hoping that she’ll run as far away from me as she can.
It hits her shoulder and she yelps. Then, with a giggle, she turns and runs into the woods at the side of the lane.
I chase her, the snow forgotten, as all I can think about is the fantasy of what I want to do to her. If she knew my desires, she’d keep running. But that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy.
Twigs crunch under my boots as I trample through the trees off the beaten track. Anyone else would get lost in these woods, but I’ve been coming here since I was a boy. The Bianchis’ cabin is a little farther around the lake in another secluded spot, their land adjoining Colin’s. Dom’s since put up a perimeter, but we’d all hang out in these woods, building forts, dens, and the treehouse that’s still there to this day.
A dash of blonde darts between the trees, her long flowing waves giving her away.
I meander at a leisurely pace, knowing she’ll run out of steam soon enough.
A yell comes from the top of the hill as she crumples to a heap on the ground.
“Damn it.” I race to the top of the hill to catch up with her.
She’s still and silent with her face down in the snow.
My heart pounds against my ribs. Out of breath, I drop to the ground at her side. “You all right?”
She rolls over and shoves a handful of snow in my face with a giggle.
Ice prickles my cheeks like needles. I spit it back out as I lie on my back and she hovers over me, the sun shining on her brunette and golden hair like the angel that she is. I silence the devil on my shoulder while I take in her beauty. The sun casting a halo around her head makes her look like a saint and I’m the sinner.
“You look like Santa Claus.” She giggles again, the sound like music to my ears.
“Want to sit on my knee and tell me what you want for Christmas?” I chuckle to myself, my belly shaking, but she swings her leg over me. My heart stutters in my chest.
She straddles me, her palms flat against my stomach. “Okay, Santa, this Christmas I want…” She taps her lip with her index finger. “A new job and a boyfriend.”
“I’ll see what I can do, angel.” It takes all my strength to keep my hands at my side. If I let them wander onto her legs, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop them from climbing up her thigh.
She bounces against my groin and giggles, the sensation making my dick twitch.
Scooping up more snow, I throw it at her chest, making sure I don’t hit her face, but I need to get her off of me. When she freezes and sucks in a breath, I know she’s felt my growing dick between her thighs.
I grab hold of her ass and lift her, rolling her onto her back. I hover at the side, my face inches from hers. It would be so easy to lean down and steal a kiss. If she were anyone else, I wouldn’t hesitate.
The way she parts her mouth and licks her lips tells me she feels this too. Whatever this is between us. Is it just two lonely people desperate for a human connection? That must be it. There’s no way this angel sees anything in me. I’m over twenty years older than her. Old enough to be her dad. I’m a sick fuck, that’s what I am.
“If you want Santa to bring you a gift this year, you have to promise to be a good girl.”
Her blue eyes gaze up at me. “I’ll be good, Santa.”
I push myself away from her and drop onto my back with a groan, needing some distance between us, and will the thoughts from my head. Taking care of myself is a struggle, let alone another human being. I’ve nothing to offer her. Not even a home.
But somehow, she makes me want to do better. Put down roots and build a stable life just so I can take care of her. Flakes of snow hit my face as I stare up at the sky, the sun peeking through a gap in the grey blanket, like a ray of hope for my miserable life.
“Let’s make snow angels.” She moves her arms and legs out and in again, making a shape on the ground.
I do the same, our arms and legs touching.
“I used to do this with Mum.” She sticks her tongue out, licking the flakes from her lip. “When we would stay at the cabin, we’d come out here and build snowmen. She’d bring a flask, and we’d have hot chocolate in the treehouse.”
“Is the treehouse still going strong?” More flakes stick to my beard.
“I haven’t been in it for a couple of years, but you and dad built it to last. It’ll still be there when I have children.”
“Do you want kids?”
“Of course I do. Don’t you?”
“Dunno really. I’ve never been with a woman long enough to think about settling down with them.” I dust the snow from my beard. It’s getting a bit late for me to be thinking about a family. Most women I date come with a ready-made one, mainly moody teenagers who hate my guts.
“Is that why you’ve never married?” She lifts onto her elbow, her rainbow scarf covered in snow.
“I’ve seen too many marriages end in divorce to buy into the fairy tale.” I need to make a home for myself first before I can even think about settling down with someone when I have nothing to offer.
“So you don’t believe in marriage?” Her blue eyes are full of questions.
I stifle a laugh. “I can’t even commit to a gym membership, let along a marriage contract.” Most of my life, I’ve been a flitter, just crashing with whoever the flavour of the month is. I’ve never had a place to call home, never even wanted one before.
But I’d do it for my angel.