Chapter 6 #2
My chest heaves, cock hardens in my shorts, heart pounds faster than it has any right to.
I should be halfway down the fucking mountain, but I’m not in control of my feet here.
There’s something about this place that draws you in.
Makes it impossible to leave, like a magnetic pull that’s too strong to break free from.
Or maybe it’s Tucker himself that’s the magnet.
He’s always been doused in charisma, even in his most devious moments. When I adored him, I’d give my life for him. When I hated him, I’d do the same. There’s something to be said for someone with that kind of pull. There’s also something to be said for having the wisdom to see it for what it is.
As I inch closer to him, the water deepens to my ankles.
He straightens himself and begins to scrub the front of his body, out of sight. Starts at the torso and then works his way downward.
I rip my shirt off my head and toss it behind me, hoping it didn’t land in the water but I also don’t care to check. Can’t take my eyes off him, the scars etched into his back like a morbid piece of ancient art. His big, strong body.
Around these parts, he was always known as the protector—even with the chaos that flowed through him.
“The Wilds are calling you…” He stops himself when he peeks over his shoulder, when he spots me watching him.
“Finish it,” I demand. “Finish that part of your song.”
His lips curl into a devious smile, but he says nothing.
Not at first.
He settles on changing the subject. “I thought you’d be halfway down the mountain by now.”
“Should be,” I say flatly, because what the fuck am I doing? I push my shorts and underwear down my thighs and step out of them, leaving them to float in the rising water.
He chuckles under his breath and turns to face the wall as I approach.
There are no washcloths or anything of the sort, so I use my hands to lather his back, feeling every bit of his flesh beneath my touch.
The scars. The muscles. The way they’re tense at first and then loosen the more I rub my hands over them.
He leans forward, continuing to cleanse the front of his body while I handle the back.
“You’re not down the mountain because—”
“The Wilds are keeping me here,” I say, finishing his sentence for him. “I’m tired of this song and dance. The Wilds aren’t real.”
“But you’re here, grounded by the blood that courses through your veins.”
He recoils forward, grimacing in pain as my hand passes over a shard of glass I missed previously. I pluck it from his flesh and place it onto an empty shelf.
He meets my gaze over his shoulder, eyes searching. “Do you feel it, too?”
“Feel what?”
“Do you hear it, whispering through the slate?”
“Hear what?”
“We’re two forces of nature, born from different trees. Different roots. But we’re stuck together, the vines beneath the dirt tangled and knotted.” He turns in a quick circle. “Do you see it, too?”
“See what?” I question, even as my eyes shift down.
And I see it.
His hard cock—thick like a tree trunk—as he fists it back and forth. It dawns on me that he hasn’t been washing himself this whole time. He’s been jerking off.
“See what I see.” With his free hand, he lifts me by the chin.
Forces me to look him straight in the eyes when my attention is being pulled anywhere but.
“Hear what I hear.” His eyes shift to the right as he momentarily stops stroking himself.
It’s like he’s listening to something I can’t hear.
“Feel what I feel.” He grabs my hand and places it on his heart that’s beating at a rather slow pace for someone who is currently beating his meat.
And then his gaze lowers, eyes widening.
He doesn’t hesitate. Just reaches out and takes my cock into his palm, brushing his finger over the steel adornment pierced through the head. I shudder, but my cock continues to betray me, hardening even more beneath his touch.
He leans forward, rests his head on my shoulder, and whispers in my ear. “I can feel your heart through your cock.”
My eyes flutter, my heart races much faster than Tucker’s, and I can feel my body being pulled closer to his.
Drawn to him for reasons I can’t explain.
Could be because I’m a fucking sex fiend and it’s been seven whole ass days since my last fuck.
Could be because being back in this place is making me lose my goddamn mind.
“Are you excited, or are you scared?” Tucker inhales and then exhales, his breath warming the side of my neck. “Smells like fear.”
When I turn my head, I meet his gaze. Our lips so damn close to touching, to kissing, again. I break away from him and jump backwards, finding the strength to break free from the spell he has me in. My lips move to speak, to scream, or to say something profound.
But I settle on saying nothing.
Instead, I turn and flee, the weight of the water around my ankles like a noose around my neck. Still, I trudge forward. Make it about halfway before I find myself turning back around.
Tucker leans against the slate walls, the green veins of the material looking like antlers erected from the top of his head. He continues to stroke himself, now with a fury reserved for a man on the verge of breaking.
Just fucking leave.
Use your fucking feet.
I remain frozen in place, alternating between watching him stroke himself and his eyes that remain fixed on me. He doesn’t even fucking seem to blink.
He pounds his dick with one hand while reaching below his swollen cock head with the other. When he finally breaks, he shoots his seed into his hand, collecting it all. His eyes finally draw to a close, but it’s short-lived as he begins to approach.
And I’m still frozen in place, my cock leaking.
Tucker meets me where I stand. He raises his hand, cum dripping from his fingers.
My chest rises and falls like the tides of the sea as he puts on a show, jiggling his fingers in the air as if the jizz hanging from his fingers are puppets attached to strings. He inches them closer to me, and I do the only thing I can think to do.
I take his fingers into my mouth, eliciting a breathtaking gasp from Tucker. His eyes squint at the corners as I suck his fingers clean, inhaling the taste of him. It’s a stark reminder of the wild animal I was born to be.
The wild animal I can’t be.
I come to my senses, stumbling backwards.
Wipe my mouth with the back of my palm, scoop my soaked clothes off the floor, and get the fuck out there.