Chapter 5
Shelly
Amos wrecked me one more time.
Then again. And again.
In between, he seemed almost at a loss for words, nervous energy pouring off him every time I tried to cuddle.
Having sex with him had definitely been everything I’d always thought it would be.
The man had rocketed me to the moon and back more than half a dozen times tonight.
I knew if I lay there for another twenty minutes, he’d be ready to go again.
He was like the Energizer Bunny.
But my lady bits were getting sensitive. I’d never had a sore pussy before, but it had happened tonight.
Amos Nelson had fucked me raw.
When he reached for me again, I caught his wrist gently and shook my head.
“Amos. I am done. My body is officially waving a flag of surrender. You’ve destroyed me.”
He grinned, slow and satisfied, propping himself up on one elbow. “Yeah? Did I finish my job? Because I could go a couple more times.”
I laughed despite myself. “You win. I’m not up for riding your bronco again. Now I know what all the women were talking about. I don’t need to be curious anymore.”
He looked pleased enough with himself to be insufferable about it. He’d never let me live this down.
But right as I started to curl into his arms again, ready to snuggle up and fall asleep, he rumbled, “Don’t get too comfy. If we’re done, I’ll take you home now.”
The words came out flat. Too fast.
Like this was his usual routine. Fun, then done.
I got the feeling he didn’t know what to do now that the sex was done.
And his words hit harder than they should have, like cold water poured straight over everything that had just happened.
Because for a few reckless hours, I’d let myself believe I was different.
“Amos. It’s me.”
“I know, Shelly Bear,” he got up and paced around the small space, peering out the window that he’d climbed in through earlier. “But… I don’t want the guys to see you.”
I squinted at him. “It’s four in the morning.”
“So?” he said, like the hour didn’t mean anything to him.
The room went silent except for the sound of my heart getting crushed.
Of course this was how his nights would end.
Amos was a dedicated bachelor.
Had I thought sleeping with me would convert him over to the white picket fence side of life?
What a fool I am.
But I pushed back, years of friendship making me vocal. “Can’t I just sleep here, Amos? It’s so late. And it’s only one night. I’m not asking you to marry me.”
Something shifted in his expression, a subtle tightening around his eyes, a flicker of discomfort he didn’t quite manage to hide from me.
I knew Amos better than I knew most people in this world, and that look was unmistakable.
“Here?” he glanced toward the cabin door. “We’re not supposed to be in here. If we’re done for the night, it’d be better for me to take you home.”
Done.
The word landed soft and unprotected inside me, detonating a bomb in my fragile heart.
“Done,” I repeated, my soul a hollow ache.
He spread his hands, the picture of easy confidence. “What? I made you come eight times, Shelly-Rae. You need more than that, darlin’?”
My mouth dropped open.
For him, this had just been sex. For me, it had been a life-altering decision.
I never should have fucked him.
What an idiot I was.
“Are you seriously kicking me out right now?”
Amos frowned at me, shifting uncomfortably. “Naw. But don’t you want to go home and sleep in your own bed? That’s… what women do.”
I stared at him for a full ten seconds, then reached for my shirt with a sharp, indignant movement and tugged it over my head. I grabbed my skirt next, smoothing it back down over my thighs.
My eyes flashed fire.
“Do you always rush them out this fast? Or am I getting special treatment?”
He frowned at me. “Yeah? Except… normally I don’t bring them home.”
He said it like it should mean something… as if he’d done me a favor.
And maybe in his world he had.
“You’re telling me you don’t ever bring a woman home?”
“No. There’s not much privacy here at the logging camp.” He rubbed the back of his neck, still completely naked and annoyingly handsome.
“Well… where do you fuck them then?”
Amos gave me a sheepish look. “At their place. Or… in my truck.”
A huff escaped from my lungs. “No wonder you never have a girlfriend. You don’t even have a private place to bring them.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, like he was already frustrated with how this was going… or just in over his head with me.
“You’re not being fair, Shelly-Rae. The other women I’ve fucked have been happy about it. Sorry if I didn’t meet your standards. We can’t all be Tucker.”
He threw my ex’s name in my face as he slid his jeans back on and sat on the edge of the bed shirtless, his broad chest catching the faint moonlight coming through the curtains.
He looked like something a sculptor had spent years on, all that hard muscle and warm tan skin, and he was sitting there pouting like a man who had no idea how gorgeous he was.
It was deeply unfair.
Amos Nelson, my secret crush, was amazing in bed… and a total trainwreck afterward. I almost felt for him if this was how he was with all the women he brought home. No wonder women didn’t stick around.
Oh, Amos. Someone needs to teach you a few things about women.
I looked around the dark cabin, suddenly wondering who this place belonged to. “Whose place is this?”
He looked down at the floor. “My boss is out of town.”
I let out a deep sigh. Tonight, I’d finally ridden the bronco, and it had been more than I’d ever thought possible. But the downside was that I’d acted like a fool, throwing myself at this man who didn’t even have a proper place to bring a woman home.
“Well… please tell me you’ll at least wash his blanket before he gets home.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I can take his blanket to the laundromat.”
Then Amos rumbled quietly, “Shelly, is this going to fuck up everything between us? I knew I shouldn’t have done this. Not with you.”
“No,” I said firmly. “It won’t change things between us. But I do understand now why you have a reputation.”
He frowned at me. “What reputation?”
I sat down on the edge of the bed beside him and reached for my shoes. “I’ve heard things. That this bronco’s only good for one thing.” I tugged my shoe on and glanced at him sideways. “Now I understand what they mean.”
His brow furrowed, and he didn’t fire back with a joke the way he normally would.
“Women say that about me?”
“Yeah. They say you’re good for a one-night rodeo and nothing more.”
He just sat there for a moment, looking kind of stunned.
Then he quietly rumbled, “I don’t think I’m dating material.”
I almost laughed, but something in his voice stopped me. All his swagger was gone.
“Because you can’t help spreading the love around? Not every man is built for monogamy. Just ask my first boyfriend.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. That’s not it. I’d be happy to commit to one pussy for life. But… no one ever wants to date me. They just want to fuck me a few times before they find their forever dude.”
The room went quiet.
The flamboyant, bold man who’d had the whole Bear Den eating out of his hand a few hours ago was nowhere to be found.
This was the other Amos. The one most people never got to see.
The one I talked to late at night, at Mason’s parties, after everyone else had drifted off and gone home.
One time we sat there so long the bonfire burned to embers. It was only when the morning light began to shine in the sky that we even noticed that we’d talked the whole night through.
I fixed my hair as best I could with my fingers, while I gently asked, “Tell me about your last girlfriend, Amos. What went wrong? There must be a reason you don’t date anymore. Did someone break your heart?”
I tried to think back to who he’d been serious with, but I couldn’t come up with a single name. He’d fucked half the town, and some of those women were secretly in love with him, like I was.
But anyone who actually dated him? I drew a blank.
He shook his head and growled, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Amos. You tell me everything. Don’t be shy.”
He looked down at his hands and muttered so quietly that I could hardly make out his words. “I’ve never had one.”
I went still. “You’re thirty-six years old.”
He cleared his throat, his jaw working. “I know. Every time I’ve ever brought it up to anyone, they just laughed… like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.”
Oh. Shit.
He was being serious.
I could see it happening so clearly it made my chest ache.
How many times had he propositioned me for marriage in that big, theatrical voice of his, arms thrown wide, grinning at the crowd?
Not once had I taken him seriously. None of us had.
We’d all laughed and cheered and played along because that was the role he played so well.
“Do you even want a girlfriend?” I asked carefully.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it up further, and let out a long breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
I studied him for a long moment, and something clicked into place.
“You’re incredible in bed,” I said bluntly.
He blinked. “Well, thanks, I—”
“But everything after?” I cut in. “You’re terrible at it.”
He frowned. “What?”
“I could have been anyone tonight. Like women are interchangeable. You don’t make a woman feel like she matters. And where’s the aftercare?”
“The after-what?” he squinted at me as he tugged his shirt back on, hiding that magnificent view once more.
Silence stretched between us.
“If you actually want a girlfriend,” I said, crossing my arms, “you’re going to need lessons.”
Amos was wearing a scowl so deep it was obvious my words had left a mark.
“Okay. So I suck with women! I already knew that. That’s why I didn’t want to fuck you, Shelly Bear.”
I sat with that for a moment.
Pain was hinting out from his eyes, and I realized I’d hit a deep wound inside the man. One he’d never shown me before.
And then, slowly, something started turning over in my mind.
If this was all I was ever going to get from him, I might as well get something out of it.
“You know,” I said slowly, “we both have a problem. And I think we might be able to fix it together.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “What?”
“My mom keeps trying to set me up with her neighbor, Hunter.” And after tonight, I wasn’t about to sit through polite conversation with a man I didn’t want.
“Yeah?”
“She wants me to go to the Spring Fling Festival with him tomorrow, and I absolutely do not want to.” I paused. “If I have a date, then I have a reason to say no… and no one can argue with my decision.”
Amos straightened up slightly. “You want me to take you to the Spring Fling Festival?”
He grinned. “I can do that.” There was something almost eager beneath his casual tone.
For me, the sun rose and set on this man. Amos had been my supercrush for years.
So I threw something out there and waited to see how he responded.
“And,” I added, “In return for you doing that favor for me, I think we should pretend to date for a week. So you can get a feel for what it’s actually like. I can show you how you’re supposed to act when you’re with someone. I know what women actually want.”
Was this a trick to make the man date me? Maybe… but I needed to pull out all the dirty tricks if I wanted a chance with this man.
I held my breath, waiting for him to answer.
Please say yes.
My heart thrummed nervously in my chest while I waited for him to consider it.
He went quiet for a second, his eyes dragging over my face like he was seeing me differently.
He was quiet for a beat. “One week isn’t going to cut it. I’m going to need more time than that.”
I looked at him and felt something reckless bubbling up inside me that felt suspiciously like hope.
“Thirty days,” I announced. “We fake date for thirty days and I’ll teach you everything I know. And when it’s over, we’ll go back to normal. No expectations.”
I expected him to laugh or make a joke out of it.
But he gave me a grin, his bravado sneaking back in. “Deal. You’re mine for thirty days. I like it.”
His gaze didn’t leave mine, steady in a way I wasn’t used to from him.
I laughed, “You’re looking at it the wrong way. It’s not a thirty-day fuck-a-thon. And we start now. Your first lesson is aftercare. Cuddling is a requirement after what you just did to me. You can’t wreck a woman and then send her packing. It’s rude.”
Amos laughed. “All right, Shelly-Rae. That means you need to strip out of your clothes again. Because I only cuddle naked with my girlfriends.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, sir. Remember the fake dating part? I don’t think we should mix sex in the middle of it.”
His eyes flickered. “Thirty days without sex?”
“You think you can handle that, big guy?”
His mouth dropped open, and I realized he’d thought sex was part of the deal. But I couldn’t handle that. He’d wreck my heart at the end of this if I let him.
“You can back out if you want, Amos.”
He groaned and tugged me into his arms. “Naw. But I might disintegrate if I have to go thirty days without sex. I reserve the right to renegotiate at a later point. But right now, tell me more about this after-fuck cuddle thing. Is that real?”
Oh, he had a lot to learn.