29 Lindsey
Lindsey
I’VE SHAVED AND EXFOLIATED every single part of my body that I could possibly think to shave and exfoliate. If I still lived in a big city, I would have gotten a full Brazilian wax, but that’s not something the Starlight Haven’s local salon offers. Even if it did, I wouldn’t go.
The woman who owns it, Sandra, would go on to tell the entire town I was getting lucky. I swear that woman has a phone tree set up just for gossip. Not that it would matter much. I’ve already had a few of my coworkers, including Billie, ask me if I was dating the mysterious lumberjack in the woods.
I couldn’t even be surprised at the questions considering the public run-in at the obstacle course and then our impromptu dinner at the diner.
It seems people have seen him more in the last couple of weeks than they have the entire time he’s lived here.
It makes me wonder if that’s solely because of me or because he replaced Levi at the course.
I don’t have time to think about it more because my GPS tells me to turn onto a winding road, and his cabin is only a couple of minutes away.
The nerves I’ve felt since he asked me to come over are a ball in my stomach, bouncing with each rock of gravel my tires go over. It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date—if that’s what this is—and even longer since I’ve had sex.
If that’s what is going to happen. I have no idea, but between the dormant toy resting against my clit, his comment about my mouth in the bathroom, and everything that’s gone on with us in the last week, I’m going to guess yes? At least oral?
I also can’t forget the fact that he said he likes me.
My pussy gets wet, and despite my clit still being sensitive from his toying yesterday, I wish the vibrator would turn on so I could get some relief before I knock on his door.
I glance at the clock on my dash and see that it’s six twenty-five. We don’t live too far from each other, but he lives farther into the woods than I do, closer to Fox, Nathan, and Morgan.
It took me about fifteen minutes to get here. As his cabin comes into view, more nerves rack my stomach.
“Freaking calm down,” I tell myself. “You like Dane; you feel safe with him. He said he likes you.” I smile at that. It was such an odd thing for him to message, but it was needed, nonetheless. Especially after the rejection and near meltdown I had before he intercepted me at the General Store.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that interaction since we parted.
The way his breath felt on my lips, how my body reacts every time I’m around him or hear his voice.
And tonight, there’s no computer between us.
There’s no kid to interrupt us or even Nathan.
I told my job I’m unavailable unless it’s an emergency where the entire staff is needed—which has never happened in our little mountain town, thank god.
When I pull up and see his black truck, I park in the empty space next to it.
His cabin looks fairly new, built in a similar way to the one Nathan lives in.
I obviously can’t see the inside, but there’s a porch with two green Adirondack chairs in the front with a small table for drinks between them.
It’s one-story, and I’m guessing it only has two bedrooms like most of the cabins in this area.
That was the case when I was looking for housing, at least.
I glance at the clock on my dash and see I have two minutes to get to the door.
I check my makeup and my hair one more time.
I wanted to be comfortable, so I kept it light.
A bit of foundation, mascara, eyeliner, brow pencil, blush, and a pink lip.
He didn’t say what to wear beyond the toy in my underwear, so I chose a yellow halter-style sundress that has a deep, low vee.
I added a gold necklace with a wave charm that Nathan gave me last Christmas, which sits near the valley of my breasts, which are currently being held up and pushed together by the halter strap.
Hopefully this is sexy enough for tonight; it was the best I could do on short notice since I had to shave everything and then dry and curl my hair.
The clock goes down to a minute, and my adrenaline spikes. I have to get out of the car and to the door, or who knows what he’ll do. The idea of being punished doesn’t sound all that bad, but since we’re in person, maybe I should rethink that.
I get out of my car, locking it and rushing toward his door. I walk up the four steps and knock at exactly six thirty. My chest heaves a bit from rushing and nervous excitement, and my skin prickles when I hear movement coming toward the door.
It swings open, and the little breath I had exits my lungs.
Dane is a very attractive man, but in his element, here in his home, he’s breathtaking.
His hair is styled, and he’s wearing a black button-down shirt with the top few buttons undone.
I can see a bit of his skin and a smattering of dark chest hair through the opening.
His throat works as he swallows, and my eyes drift from the tattoos on his neck to his forearms, which I can see because he has his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows.
Below the waist, he’s wearing a pair of dark-wash jeans that may even be black.
He clears his throat, and my gaze snaps to his. “See something you like?” His eyes sparkle.
“You look nice.” It feels like a dumb answer, because the man is like sex personified.
He rubs his hand over his jaw and steps back just enough so he can look me up and down.
His eyes drag slowly from the simple nude pumps on my feet, to my bare legs, and then to the hem of my dress.
I swear his eyes pause at the space between my legs as if he can see the toy waiting to be used through the fabric.
His simmering gaze trails to my chest, and when he finally meets my eyes, there’s a depth of lust in his hazel pools that almost has me lying down on the porch and asking him to take me.
“You look good enough to eat,” he purrs.
A short laugh escapes my lips as he invites me in with a playful grin.
“I feel like I’m entering the Big Bad Wolf’s cabin.”
He closes the door and locks it, then gets close enough to me so that I can smell the masculine scent of his cologne mixed with the spices of whatever he’s cooking for dinner. The heat of his body is intoxicating. “Who says you aren’t?”
My clit throbs, and my gaze flicks to his lips, lips I’ve been dreaming about kissing for far too long now. “Am I?”
“I guess you’ll find out.” He takes my hand, a mischievous grin still gracing his features. “Do you want a tour, or would you like to sit and chat before dinner instead?”
His question pulls me from my horny haze, even if my clit is still begging for attention. That part of me wants to skip dinner and get to the good stuff.
I look around his cabin. There’s a living area, dining area, and kitchen.
It’s not a lot of space, but it’s well decorated.
It has a masculine feel to it, strong yet sleek.
It’s cozy while not being too cozy, the colors dark green and navy.
He’s lit a fire in his brick-lined fireplace despite it being warm outside, and above the mantel lined with white candles is a painting.
“Is that one of yours?” I ask, walking toward it, his question forgotten.
“It is,” he answers softly.
My feet seem to carry me of their own accord, and as I get closer, I see it’s not a normal painting one would find above a fireplace, like a landscape. It takes me a minute to see it, but my mouth goes dry at the sight when I do.
It’s an erotic painting done in black, white, and gray.
My eyes trace from the dark hair of the woman down her back, her curvy body made of rolls and dimples like mine.
Eventually, I put together that it’s a painting of a woman kneeling.
Her back is to the viewer, but she’s naked, the only thing on her body a black leather collar around her neck and matching cuffs circling her wrists.
Her legs are spread open, and her hands are placed palms facing upward on her knees.
Her chin is also dipped with her eyes trained on the floor.
“Do you like it?”
I jump, turning my head to look at the man beside me.
“It’s beautiful.” I mean it, too; he’s very talented.
I can’t deny, however, that part of me wants to be jealous of the fact that he has a painting of another woman above his fireplace, one he clearly took time and care to create.
Maybe she’s a past lover? Whoever she is, she obviously meant something to him since he not only painted her but also hung her image where he sees it night after night.
“I’m glad you like it.” My eyes meet his, and he studies my face, gaze penetrating. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
He observes me for another second before he nods. “Do you want a tour then, or to talk first?” He restates his question with a grin.
“We can talk first,” I say. I’d like to see the rest of his place, but my curiosity over what he wants to talk about wins out. I would rather not see if his bedroom has another painting like this one.
Dane gestures with one of his hands toward the dining table, and I step forward. When I’m next to him, his warm palm lands on my lower back, the heat of it searing. It focuses my thoughts and grounds me, reminding me why I’m here: that he’s invited me to his cabin because he wants me here.
He guides me to one of the wooden chairs and pulls it out. It’s nice, and I appreciate the gesture more than I probably should. Especially since it’s the bare minimum a date should do.
If this is even a date.
Dane’s fingers brush the tips of my lightly curled hair as he moves to sit near me at the head of the table. The action sends a shiver up my spine, and as he takes his seat, a grin is still playing at his lips. The light above us casts a warm glow over the table, one that isn’t set for dinner yet.