Chapter Eleven
Kara
Iwas horny as hell, and couldn’t wait to get this man into bed. Unfortunately, the thing standing between me and multiple orgasms was a dog who thought our river adventure was all a game. Tuck was lying on the riverbank, dirty from head to toe, watching us with his tail wagging.
“Come here, Tuck,” Grant called, splashing his hands in the water beside him.
Tuck perked up his ears and wagged his tail faster but stayed where he was.
“Tuck, now.” Grant raised an eyebrow, and Tuck still didn’t budge.
“Damn stubborn dog.” Grant moved slowly through the water, his jeans saturated and heavy.
He had a well-defined tent in the front, and I was desperate to get my hands on it.
Grant managed to get up the bank, his boots slopping water as he walked.
He grabbed Tuck by the collar and started pulling him toward the water.
Tuck, ever so helpful, took off running and dragged Grant right back into the river.
This was becoming a habit. I stifled a laugh and instead popped the cap on the doggy shampoo and started lathering up the reluctant pooch.
Tuck started to whine when we scrubbed him instead of playing, but I was on a mission now. We scrubbed Tuck as best we could, then rinsed him clean. I stood with my hands on my hips, my toes and fingers numb despite the warm summer day.
“How do we get him back to the house without him getting dirty again?” I asked Grant.
He huffed a laugh. “Washing him in the river was your idea.”
I pursed my lips. “True, but the sooner we get him back to the cabin, the sooner we can get out of these wet clothes and…” I left the rest unsaid, but he understood my suggestion.
Grant squatted down and grabbed Tuck around all four legs at once, lifting him with a grunt.
He staggered forward over uneven rocks until he was up on the bank.
“That was hot.”
“Glad you think so,” he said, his voice strained.
“Now let’s go.” I grabbed the shampoo bottle and scrambled after him.
The walk back to the cabin wasn’t pretty.
A soaking wet Tuck isn’t exactly light and predictably, Grant wouldn’t let me help him.
Watching his ass and thighs strain to carry the big dog back to the cabin had me more than ready to get horizontal by the time we made it through the door of the cabin.
Grant got Tuck inside, drying him with an old, shaggy towel by the door, and onto an old blanket. Tuck, tired from the fun, turned in a circle and immediately lay down.
“That just leaves one dirty boy to deal with,” I said, reaching out and popping the button on Grant’s jeans.
That got a smile out of him. “I’m exhausted from carrying that damned dog; you’re going to have to be on top.”
I lowered his zipper and started tugging his sodden jeans over his hips. “Why don’t we take this to the shower instead?”
“Sounds like heaven,” he said, bringing his lips to mine. “I’ll even let you use all the hot water.”
For how tired he claimed to be, he didn’t waste any time kicking off his boots and jeans. He took an extra second to put his boots on the mat and his wet jeans in the sink. “You’re naked in the kitchen again,” I said with a smirk as I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the same place.
“You complaining?”
“Definitely not.”
Piece by piece, we each stripped bare, our eyes never leaving each other. I had seen him in just a towel, but the whole picture at once was pretty spectacular. He was muscular but not lean, strong and thick. And I wasn’t just talking about his cock … although the description also applied.
“I appreciate you eye-fucking me, but it’s kinda cold being wet and naked.” Grant grumbled once all of our wet clothes were off.
I laughed, the cool cabin air making me shiver, and grabbed his hand before racing barefoot down the hall and into the cramped bathroom.
The shower was built for one small human.
It wasn’t even big enough to clean Tuck.
I slid into the shower stall while Grant was still digging clean towels from under the sink.
I turned my face toward the spray. It had been warm outside, but the river water had left me with a chill.
Or maybe it was just the anticipation of Grant’s touch.
“Scoot your cute butt forward,” Grant said as he wedged himself into the shower stall.
His broad chest rested against my back for the third time today, and I leaned into his heat.
It should have been uncomfortable, but when he wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned his chin against my shoulder, I felt warm, and strangely, peaceful.
I’d had a whole life in a bustling city, but something about a day of chores with a little fun and the touch of a good man had my brain quiet for the first time in too long.
I wanted to remember the bigger picture—the cabin, the will, the letter—but that seemed so far off, like this little shower with its chipped tile and stained grout could protect us from the real world, if only for a little while.
I leaned further into his chest, content to hog the warm water.
Rather than complaining, his length hardened further against my back.
He brought his lips to the side of my neck, kissing me through a curtain of my wet hair.
I made a contented sound in my throat, and he slid his hands up over my bare breasts, kneading and teasing them as the steam billowed around us.
“I want you,” I murmured, pushing my hips back against his cock. His breath caught in his throat, and he thrust against me in return, sliding over my slippery skin.
“I want to be inside you more than you can imagine, but we have about two minutes before this shower goes from pleasant to freezing cold. I don’t think you want to risk that.”
I didn’t, but I was also comfortable and warm—turned on, but also cozy. It was an interesting combination, one I hadn’t felt in my hostile marriage.
Deciding for us, Grant reached over my shoulder and turned the tap off.
A chill settled over my skin as I stood there dripping, watching Grant move naked through the space.
He stepped out and passed me a towel before taking one for himself.
He ran the towel over his hair, his eyes never leaving my naked skin.
His cock was standing tall in front of him, eager for my touch.
I accidentally swept my fingers over the tip while adjusting my towel, and he grunted.
“Oops, clumsy me,” I said innocently before doing it again. His dick twitched under my touch.
“Uh, huh, oops my ass. You have thirty seconds to get your sexy butt in my bed, or else.”
I was desperate to ask, or else what? But his bed was exactly where I wanted to be, so why fight it?
I took off running, holding my towel around my shoulders like a cape.
I skidded to a stop in his room, realizing I hadn’t been in here since I had been back.
I wanted to look around, to be nosy and inspect his stuff, but there was something I wanted to do even more, so I tossed the towel aside and laid back on the bed.
His pillows were soft under my head, the duvet cool under my back. My wet hair stuck to my neck but all of that was just background noise. All of my senses were tuned into the doorway watching for Grant to appear in all his naked glory.
Grant came around the corner a moment later, towel around his neck, cock still standing straight out from his hips, thick and hard, with a patch of dark hair at the base. He paused in the doorway and leaned against the frame, just watching me.
“See something you like?” I asked, reclining back against his pillow.
“Seeing something I hadn’t thought I’d ever want.”
My brow furrowed. “You never thought you’d want to get laid?”
He laughed and started moving across the room. “I never thought there would be a person in my house that I wasn’t desperate to get rid of.”
His honesty was as unexpected as it was surprising. Given how this had started, and the ups and downs since, I hadn’t thought about where we stood. The idea that I had grown on him, whether like a fungus or not, was a revelation in this whole mess of a weekend.
His eyes went wide, as if he had surprised himself with his words, so I gave him an out. “Better come over here and show me how much you want me to stay.”
He got on his knees on the bed, moving my legs apart to accommodate his thick thighs. His skin was cool and damp as he leaned over me. The mattress dipped as he planted a hand on either side of my head and brought his lips to mine.
It wasn’t the first time we had kissed, but it was the first time there were no distractions—no wet dogs, no icy river water, just clean sheets and bare skin.
I moved my lips over his slowly and thoroughly, mapping every inch.
I slipped my tongue into his mouth, craving more and getting everything I was hoping for.
His tongue met mine with the same easy pace.
He settled his hips between mine, and I gasped as the heat of his bare cock met my sensitive skin.
I hooked my ankle over the back of his calf and slid my foot over the rough tangle of hair. He was so real and raw—no fake smile, no pretend graciousness, and no fake tan or gym body. He was uncomplicated in a situation that was anything but.
The heat ramped up at a leisurely pace, a slow burn rather than a quick flash.
We started rutting against each other, softly at first, then faster and harder.
Little starbursts of pleasure ignited every time his length rubbed against my sensitive clit.
Based on the little grunts he was making, I knew I was having the same effect on him.
I ran my hands over his back as he moved, feeling the muscles dance, grabbing and kneading him, desperate for his touch in every way I could get it.
He moved his lips to the side of my neck and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.
I dug my nails into his back, sucking in a quick breath.
Apparently, I had an erogenous zone there that had been collecting dust.
“Like that?” he murmured against my skin, sucking harder without waiting for my answer.
With each deep suck, he would slide his length against me, and I closed my eyes and just felt everything.
His skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, he smelled masculine and real even after our shower, and his mouth—God.
He was just as likely to give me an orgasm as he was a hickey when he sucked my skin like this.
Had it been too long since anyone touched me? Or had I never been touched like this? Like my pleasure was the only thing that mattered. Like every inch of me was sacred and beautiful.
He worked his mouth agonizingly slowly down the side of my neck, and my patience fell apart. I dug my foot into the comforter, pushing my hips up to meet his, urging him along.
“What do you need, Kara? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He pulled away from my skin, holding my eyes with his as he asked the question. I paused, getting lost in those dark eyes, seeing the depth of hazel swirling there.
“You, slow and deep.” I unhooked my leg from around his and rolled onto my side.
Grant moved behind me, flopping down on his side too and wrapping a hand around my waist. His chest was to my back, his breath on my neck.
Somehow, in only a few hours, this position had come to make me feel safe. Supported, maybe.
Even without seeing his face, it was an incredibly intimate position. One where every inch of him touched a part of me. One where he could tease my exposed skin, and I could push back against him.
“Do we need protection?” he asked. “I don’t think I have anything.”
I shook my head. “I’m on the pill, over forty and haven’t had sex in a year.”
He chuckled, and then his lips were back on my neck. It had only taken one gasp for him to realize my neck was sensitive, and then he made a study of working it from every angle, squeezing every drop of pleasure he could give me from just a small patch of skin.
He ran his rough palm up over my bare hip and around to caress my breast, first stroking, then teasing my nipple until I arched my back to give him better access.
I reached behind me and grabbed his ass, urging his hips forward, wanting him inside me.
He pulled his hand from my chest, and I felt his cockhead notch against my entrance. “Ready?” he murmured against my temple.
I nodded and pushed my hips back. I was so ready—ready for my post-divorce life to start. Ready for something to go right in a year where everything had been harder than it needed to be, and most of all ready to be thoroughly fucked by the sexy, stubborn mountain man lying behind me.