Chapter 14
THE WOOD
The next morning, I wake from my slumber to the sound of steady, rhythmic chopping outside. Glancing out the window, I see Ry is here splitting the wood he must have hauled off from the damaged oak. So much for never seeing him again.
It’s not even eight in the morning, meaning he must have gotten here before seven. Another thing I can mark on our list of differences. I have never been a morning person, nor will I ever be.
A hawk sits quietly perched atop the white birdhouse that stands off on its own atop a tall pole—an obvious replica of the estate I stand in now. The hawk casting a shadow over the entirety of it.
I press a hand to my chest, my attention drawn back to the shirtless man working beneath my bedroom window.
I can see the way the sun hits the sweat on his body, following along the slopes of his lean muscles as he swings the axe down on the wood.
He swings again. The incessant chopping motion becoming wildly mesmerizing.
Admiring Ry’s looks I’ve learned is alarmingly easy—but then I remember last night.
Last night, when we almost kissed until one damn bird turned the entire night sour, including his attitude.
He couldn’t get away from me fast enough then, so what the hell is he doing here now?
My hope was I wouldn’t see him again, at least not this soon.
I pull on some sweats that lay crumbled on the wooden chest at the end of the bed and go down to make some coffee. Passing the door to the basement, I notice it is again slightly ajar and I quickly slam it shut. I’m about as fed up with that door as I am with grumpy men showing up uninvited.
Heading to the kitchen, I can’t decide if I want to face Ry or not. Last night was so awkward, and I know today may lead to even more awkwardness on my part. But I won’t think too much about it. I refuse to let him ruin my mood on my own property.
I grab a coffee and a water and make my way out to face him the only way I know how.
Forcefully, I hold them both out to him.
Showing him yes, I’m still very upset. As far as I’m concerned, we never have to talk about last night again.
He made it very clear that he wants nothing to do with me with the way he dashed off.
I imagine he is thinking the same thing about never seeing each other again when he takes the water out of my hands.
I soon realize I am mistaken in my silly perception of his thoughts.
He holds my gaze the whole time he drinks from the water glass, eyeing me as I were the next thing to quench his thirst. The sheer intimacy of the act making me melt under the hot morning sun.
“Uh, good morning,” I finally fumble out, wrapping my arms around me as I am now realizing I forgot to put a bra on before leaving the house. “I did not expect you to be here.”
“I told you I would take care of the oak, didn’t I?” Ry says, like I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
Well, if anything, I guess he is a man of his word.
I can’t help but roll my eyes, thinking he probably didn’t catch it.
My mistake. Within a second, he is towering over me, and I am met with an up-close and personal view of all his sweat-glistening skin with markings that mimic the scenery around us.
I watch as one drop of moisture travels from the middle of his sternum all the way down to the buckle of his belt and then slips under his jeans.
“I’d be careful what you do with those eyes, my dear. You can keep them on me all day. In fact, I prefer it. But the minute you roll them at me, I’ll take that as permission to be rolling my tongue somewhere on you.” Heat spreads through me at his words. Did he really just say that?
I look up into his eyes, and bite my lip thinking of where that place would be.
His eyes speak on that challenge, because dear God he knows exactly what I am thinking.
With my lip still fastened between my teeth, I decide to look directly at him.
Courage finds me then and, against my better judgement, I roll them again.
In a heartbeat, he wraps his large fingers loosely around the side of my throat with one hand, guiding my body up against the hood of his red work truck.
I watch as his head dips down, finally touching his lips to mine softly, then again with more pressure.
I have been craving this since he chimed the bell on my shop door. I pray it doesn’t stop.
I let out a breathy moan involuntarily, giving away my reaction to his lips. He looks at me with eyes that seem to have taken on pure darkness. They are not sea-foam green anymore. Now they are a dark, stormy sea full of need.
I know exactly what he is giving with those eyes, because mine speak of the same. I know I want this man. Even if just for one moment. And it is clear that moment is now.
His lips have moved to my neck, and he trails kisses down the center to between my breasts. Now I know what they feel like, and I only want more. Without lifting his head, he tugs my shirt down over my bare breasts as I lie there exposed.
My hair fans out around his red pickup truck, and I look up to see the hawk is no longer atop the birdhouse, hopefully flown away once seeing what was about to take place.
His mouth finds one of my erect nipples, while his hand moves back up to my neck to hold me down against the sun-warmed, red metal against my back.
He flicks the bud of my nipple with his tongue, and I look down to see he is looking up right at me. His tongue forming circles against me. My God. His eyes hold mine as if agreeing with that last thought, though he has no way of knowing.
He tightens his hand around my neck just enough that I know he can feel my pulse throbbing. I let my head drop back again, unraveling as he lets his other hand skim the top of my panties. His fingertips dip beneath them and run along the lace trim.
Although we have only just met in the last few weeks, I feel I’ve been waiting so long for this.
Too long. He takes his fingers out from under my panty line, and brushes the tips over the fabric of my sheer blush-colored panties, wetness soaking through.
I gasp at his touch, wanting him to explore more.
“Mmmm, that’s a good girl,” he says as he feels how drenched I am.
My entire body hums at his praise, and I think I hear the call of a hawk somewhere, begging it to keep its distance.
This event being a non-spectator sport and all.
The sound makes me wake up faintly to the realization that we are still outside.
“Wait,” I panic. “We should go inside. What if someone comes down the driveway?”
With that comment, he fists one side of my panties up so the fabric is tight against my most sensitive area. The sheer friction of it making me squirm beneath him. He brings his other hand down to hold the other side of the panty up tight.
Slowly, he tugs each side in a rocking motion, making the damp fabric rub my clit, sending the most delicious sensations to my core. I can feel the pressure building, ebbing back and forth as he rocks back and forth. All the while, his stare is unmoving, daring me to tell him to stop.
“The fuck I care who sees us? It’s just the trees out here—and they already know you belong to me.” His words hit where they’re meant to, any reserve between us dissolving immediately.
Ry slams his mouth into mine, pulling me up the hood of the car by the sides of my panties. I gasp under his lips as I hear one side rip from the force of that pull. Releasing my mouth, he pulls back to push the ripped panty to the side, leaving full access to my swollen pussy.
He looks down at it, then back to me, his eyes dilating and his breathing quickening. I know what he is thinking. Please. I nod my head, my eyes barely open with arousal.
In one decisive motion, he dips down and licks from the core of me and up. Finding the nub of my clit and sucking it into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around it, doing a ballet of moves I can’t focus on, but I feel the results.
His fingers find their way inside me, pumping one, then two, in and out. Curling them just enough to hit a spot I didn’t know could feel the way it does.
“Keep going,” I think I say, although I can’t be sure the words form.
Just as soon as I’m about to find my release, he pulls them out and smacks my center with his hand. A loud gasp of surprise fills the open air, falling only on Ry’s ears. The act leaves me wanting more.
Looking at me with eyelids heavy with want, Ry steps back. Gazing at my naked body, there is only one thing he can do now, and I crave for him to do it.
He undoes his belt, then his zipper, pulling out his hard length. I take it all in, knowing I will feel every inch of him.
“Wait,” I squeak. The enormity of what we are about to do seeps in—of what we have done already.
“Maybe this is too much…or too fast, I think?” He looks down at me while pumping himself; looking part animal, part God. The tattoos etched along his arms shimmer in the sun, seeming almost like magic.
“Do you not want this?” he asks with his eyebrows drawn into each other.
He is serious now, as though some of his vulnerability has leaked through the walls he normally has up.
He thinks I doubt our need for each other.
How could I let him think that? There is nothing I want more. There is no one I want more.
“No, I definitely do,” I say, and then again, “I want all of it.”
With that answer, he relaxes and grabs me by the shirt, still bundled below my breasts, pulling me up into him.
He wraps his arm around my waist, the other one landing on one side of my behind.
Strong arms scoop me up, my legs having no choice but to wrap around his torso. As he slowly eases into me.
Our eyes lock. A connection fitted much like the timeless lock and key sets that sit on a shelf in Detroit.
He stretches me so I can feel every bit of his thickness, and the feeling it sparks is pure fire.
And if fire could make music, it would sing this exact tune coursing through our bodies right now.
With our faces mere inches apart, we find a rhythm of me bouncing back onto him and him into me.
He is hitting a spot within me over and over.
Arousal growing, taking me closer and closer to the edge.
His stomach muscles tighten with each thrust, and his hand on my bottom digs in deeper.
His fingers are dangerously close to my other entries, making my nerves light up.
I feel him everywhere, including his warm breath on my neck.
The closeness of our bodies only takes me closer as we all but meld together.
He braces himself with his arm against the hood of the car, and I fall back onto the hood.
We are moving fast now, and everything is building.
It feels as if the ground is rumbling beneath us, but I know that must be because I am about to lose control.
My vision blurs as I am welcomed with a surge of release. I scream out his name. A loud boom echoes across the property just as Ry pulls out, exploding himself onto my stomach, my breasts, my neck, making a mess of me.
If there were a noise, it’s lost to me. I can’t be sure I hear anything as my ears are only buzzing with the sounds of my ecstasy, and the leaves of the hickory smugly swaying in the distance.