Chapter Three
Kit
The wind has picked up, and though the shutters are hammering off the side of the house, I no longer hear them over the blood pulsing in my ears. I’m not sure if my response is reasonable or not.
I mean, sure, I have an irrational crush on the man, but there’s also the part where he’s been in my life for as long as I can remember.
I mean, after Mom died, Duke filled in a lot of the empty spaces.
Consoling me, caring for me, helping me with random dirtbag boyfriends and college projects.
Heck, he was the one that recommended me for the job at Mountainside Elementary.
He knew Principal Hayes from a cabin remodel he did for him.
I don’t know for sure, but if I were betting, I’d say Duke had something to do with the fact that the school offered me a job my first year out of college.
We have a small school, so there aren’t many jobs that come up, especially in the elementary department.
The idea of him leaving hits me hard. Duke leaving means everyday life would change significantly.
No more random run-ins in town. No more Sunday dinners with him at Dad’s house after fishing.
No more late-night conversations over coffee in the middle of a snowstorm when he’s supposed to be here to fix my shutters.
Granted, this is the first time this has ever happened, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be the last.
“You seriously need to rethink this,” I say, pouring an ungodly amount of sugar into my coffee. “I mean, on one hand, five years is essentially forever. On the other, it’s not long enough that you should sell your family property.”
“Yeah, but pop culture has everyone wanting a life in the mountains. Right now, I could sell the place for nearly a million dollars. That would set me up nicely in Wyoming. Besides, I need to branch out and meet new people. I’ve been on the mountain for too damn long.
All the women know what a dick I am by now.
” He laughs as though it’s a joke, but his words drive a spike through my chest, and I want to vomit.
“So, this is about you getting a date?” I roll my eyes, and I’m sure my voice changes because I feel it changing as I say, “Men are all the same. Sell off your whole life, and everything in it, for some pussy.”
“Whoa!” He holds up his hands. His big, calloused, rough hands. The hands I want all over me. “This isn’t about that. It’s about starting fresh, Kitten.”
Kitten. My heart swells. Most people call me Katherine or Kit, but Duke has called me ‘Kitten’ for as long as I can remember. I always assumed it had something to do with my obsession with cats and the fact that Kit is so close to kitten, though maybe the reasoning is different in his mind.
“Why do you want to start fresh so badly? This is your home.” I’m trying not to sound strained, but I do, so I clean it up. “I mean, you’re like family. What will Dad and I do without you? Who’ll break up our nonsensical arguments over the best donuts in town? You can’t go.”
He brushes his hand down over his beard and glances at me before grabbing another cookie from the jar. “Josie’s bakery has the best donuts in town. Your dad is wrong about that. I’d just be a phone call away to defend you.”
Apparently, any thought I had that he was into me is not true. If it were, he wouldn’t be leaving town.
“A phone call and a six-hour drive, right?”
He tips back his coffee cup to get the very bottom bit, and I feel this overwhelming urge to climb into his arms, offer to have all his babies, and care for his little cabin house in the woods. If pussy is what he’s leaving Rugged Mountain in search of… I’ve got fresh, brand-new pussy right here.
It all makes sense except for the part where he’s nearly twenty years older and my dad’s best friend.
I take another sip of the hot, steaming liquid, hoping to disappear behind the mug as I let filthy thoughts invade my mind.
The two of us, locked away by feet of snow, cabin fever, open minds, boredom taking over, our hands having nowhere to go but on each other, moaning his name, bucking against his lap, taking liberties with the time as we fuck over and over again.
I wonder what he sounds like when he’s coming, when he’s thrusting, when he’s taking someone for the first time.
“You okay?” He lands his hand against my elbow. “You’re zoned out. I had no idea you’d be this affected by my move. We’ll, ugh, we’ll figure it out.”
“We better,” I say, swallowing hard as I set my mug down on the counter.
To keep my hands busy, I push back the sheer curtain as though I can’t see right through it.
I really need to install shades or heavier curtains.
I bet it would help with insulation. “We should check the weather. The snow is getting worse.”
He stands from the counter with a sigh. “Ah, I’ll check it the old-fashioned way. I’ve gotta get those shutters screwed in tighter anyway. You relax. I’ll be back in before I take off.”
“I should probably help. That cup of coffee needs to go somewhere.”
“No, you’re nice and warm. It’ll take twenty minutes, tops.”
He tugs on his boots, sinks into the roughed-up jacket he’s always working in, grabs his toolbox, and slips back out into the night.
God, he’s hot. I’ve never seen another man on Earth put on boots and look so damn good, and I don’t want him to leave. I want him here all night long. I want him here with me in bed, or at the very least, I want him at the cabin with me while we do things no one else ever has to know about.
I drag in a deep breath and let it out quickly.
I can’t keep thinking like this. Charlotte is right.
I hold Duke to this standard that men my age can’t compete with.
Honestly, no one can compete with him. Maybe that’s in my head, though.
Maybe I have created a version of Duke that doesn’t really exist. I mean it must be pretend because real-life Duke is desperate to move away.
What’s wrong with me?
I should go get this out of my system. The kinky, almost-sex dream I had a few hours ago isn’t helping anything. A clear head would help with the rest of the night. The first step to that is restoring blood flow to my brain.
Thighs squeezing, I make my way to the bedroom and pull my vibrator out of my side drawer.
It’s the kind with a dildo and a vibrating egg that’s supposed to hit your G-spot just right, but I’ve never actually inserted it.
I bought it so I could, but I chickened out, and the vibrations did the job, so I stuck with that.
Closing my eyes, I let my legs fall to the side as I think about Duke and his big, rough hands, his deep voice, his heavy weight. I bet he’d command me to do what he wants. I don’t know this for sure, but he seems like the type that wouldn’t shy away from control.
I scrub the vibrating dildo harder and faster as I sigh, pant, and call out his name. I do this when I’m alone, but knowing he’s outside my house, that he’s close by and I’m screaming out his name, sends a thrill through me that I can’t quite describe. It’s electric.
It’s electric, and I’m nearly about to explode when my eyes flicker open, and I see Duke staring through my bedroom window.
Oh my God! These sheer curtains! These sheer freaking curtains!
Duke and I stare at each other, his eyes wide, his shoulders square in the frame of the window.
Oh, dear God! Now what?
I barely blink and he’s gone. He’s gone, and I’m left wondering if maybe I imagined the whole thing. Maybe I just wish he was watching.
No, it wasn’t my imagination. He was there. He was there, and I have no idea what happens now. I mean, what happens when your dad’s best friend, the guy you’re totally into, sees you masturbating through a window? How is anything normal ever again?
I sit up and try to figure out a rational solution to this very real problem, but before any good idea flutters into my head, I hear the front door open, and my heart sinks.