11. Hudson
Chapter 11
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, unable to hear the curse over the howling wind and crashing thunder. The latest lightning strike had been way too close, the electric heat slapping my face, my vision whiting out.
I’d rushed into the orchard the moment my weather tracker indicated the probability of hail. Grateful I’d had the money and foresight to install the netting over the most vulnerable portions of the orchard, I was dead-set to save as much of the more unprotected crop as possible.
So far, I’d managed to fill about ten bushel baskets with peaches from the tops of the trees most likely to be ready to harvest within the next week or so. My hope was that the lower-hanging fruit would be more protected from the hail if the storm produced any.
In my heart, I knew I wouldn’t be able to save the whole crop, but I couldn’t just let the storm roll in without doing something.
Just one more. The mantra reverberated through my head like the thunder rumbling through the orchard.
One more basket.
One more.
Just.
One.
More.
In the end, I got fifteen baskets of the most vulnerable peaches into the lean-to. It wasn’t all of them. Any big hail would still destroy a lot of the crop.
But I’d done something.
At least I’d done something.
Rounding a row of peach trees, I jerked in the darkness as a bolt of lightning cracked, lighting up the sky. Was there someone in the orchard? Now my damn head was playing tricks on me.
I needed to get to the lean-to.
The farmer’s shed would be better. At least there, I’d have a roof and four walls. If tornadoes had been predicted, I would have worked my way toward the storm cellar, but the shed would be more comfortable in the absence of twisters. I’d spruced the place up last time I was there—adding a full-sized bed, bottles of water, and some canned peaches. Not only would it be a decent place for a nap during harvest, it was a nice little shelter in case of emergencies.
And let’s be honest, if the right hookup had come along before Lance, I wouldn’t have minded a bit of orchard shed fun. The place wasn’t huge—very tiny-house-esque—but the closet had clean sheets and towels, the water pump was functional.
Lance.
His name flashed through my mind and my heart gave a weird flutter that had nothing to do with the proximity of lightning or the potential damage to my peaches.
Another flash of lightning and I was sure someone else was in the orchard.
Creeped out, exhausted, and realizing just how stupid I’d been to come out in a lightning storm, I increased my speed.
The farmer’s shed.
It wasn’t far.
Just had to get there.
I could dry off and sleep, check the damage in the morning, and get the baskets transported to the Juicy Peach to set my unplanned harvest out for ripening.
The hairs all over my body stood on end.
That was the only warning I got before my world went white-hot and I was flung to the ground. Pain jarred me as I hit the wet earth, something slamming hard against my chin. The heat so intense, the light so bright, true fear shot through me. I took a moment to get my bearings on the wet ground of the pitch-black orchard.
Rolling to my back, I groaned to see a peach tree split in two, fire attempting to burn through the rain, and smoke wafting from the blackened, sizzling mess.
“Hudson!” Lance dropped to his knees, his hands hovering over me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did it hit you?”
“I knew I kept seeing someone out here, ya damn creeper,” I yelled.
His relief was palpable as he leaned down and hugged me to him. “I’m going to ream your ass for this stunt, but we need to get out of the storm,” he said in my ear.
“Sounds promising,” I yelled back.
I swore I heard him laughing as he helped me up. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Farmer’s shed,” I said, pointing uselessly in the blackness toward the little building beyond the edge of the orchard—I didn’t want more lightning, but at least then we could see something.
I’d hit my chin hard, rattled my damn teeth, but luckily, I hadn’t chomped down on my tongue or lips. The way my chin stung, it had to be gashed open, but there was nothing I could do about it right then.
We hauled ass through the storm.
Just as we reached the shed, tiny pellets of ice attacked.
“No!” I screamed, trying to pull away and go rescue more fruit.
Lance grabbed me and tackled me into the shed. We fell in a wet heap on the floor, the slight scent of mildew tickling my nose from the all-weather mat I’d placed by the door.
Struggling to get up, I clamored to get back outside.
“Damn it, Hudson, stop,” Lance demanded. He pushed at my chest and threw himself against the door, blocking my way out. “Fuck, just stop. You can’t go back out there.”
Exhaustion and worry laced his words as the pellets of ice echoed on the shed’s roof. “I didn’t get them all,” I mumbled, shifting to lean against him. “I could have gotten more.”
Soaked to the bone, we sat huddled together as the storm raged outside. “I know, babe, but you also could have gotten killed.” Lance wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me close. “Fuck.” He let out a long, harsh breath. “I saw you in that flash of lightning and then you dropped, I thought you’d been hit.” He shuddered and held me tighter. “Fuck. I thought you’d been hit.”
“I’m good. It knocked me down and I hit my chin. Way too close for comfort, swear it singed me, but I’m okay.”
We sat quietly as the storm continued to pound down.
“How’d you know where I was?” I asked, my teeth beginning to chatter as my rain-soaked clothes grew colder with each passing moment.
“You mean how’d I know my dumbass boyfriend had lost his damn mind and gone out to a fucking orchard in the middle of a lightning storm?” Lance demanded, fear still tingeing his words, but a bit of his usual sarcastic humor resurfacing.
“They said it could hail…” I muttered.
“I got to the bar—where we were meeting for a dinner date might I remind you—and Henry asked where you were. When we figured out you weren’t where we expected you to be, and a storm was rolling in, he checked the weather. Soon as he saw hail predicted, he said you’d probably gone out to save as many peaches as you could.” Lance moved and I imagined him running his hand over his face. “Swear to god, if you think you’re doing this every time they predict hail, I’m going to ban you from weather forecasts.”
“Once I get netting over the other sections?—”
“No.” He shifted, gripping the back of my head and pulling me to his chest. “No. You’re not going out in a lightning storm ever again. Do you hear me? You put yourself in danger, you put me in danger?—”
“Hang on,” I said, pulling away from him as my anger sparked. “I didn’t make you come after me.”
“No,” Lance said with a sigh. “You just made me fall ass over ankles for you. Made me more concerned for you than anyone I’ve ever worried about in my entire life.” His hand landed on my arm. “No, I didn’t have to come after you. No, I didn’t think you couldn’t take care of yourself. But my heart was in that orchard, and I didn’t know what else to do.”
I took a deep breath. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about what he’d said. Part of me wanted to run away in terror. But the other part of me, the part beating wildly in my heart—deep in my soul, the part fighting to claim this man as my own—that part just wanted to snuggle close to him and let him hold me.
“Yeah, oh,” Lance said gently. “I think it’s stopped,” he said a few moments later.
“They said it could be severe, deadly hail,” I muttered.
“And you still went out in it.”
“Those peaches are our livelihood,” I argued.
He sighed. “I know. Luckily it stayed small and didn’t last long.”
I drew in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that risk for something that didn’t even happen.”
“Shhhh,” Lance soothed into the darkness. “We should get back.”
I caught his arm. “Can we just stay here a while?”
“We’re soaked and you’re starting to chatter,” Lance said.
“Please? We have towels and there are clean sheets.”
“Let me tell Henry we’re okay,” Lance said. He fished around in his raincoat and the room filled with light from his phone’s flashlight. “Shit, he’s been texting. I shared my location with you both, but it may not be picking up well.” Lance tapped the screen and waited a moment. “Okay, he’s glad we’re safe. Says he’ll punch your stupid face tomorrow.”
I chuckled. “In hindsight, I realize I shouldn’t have run off like that.”
“Shhh, it’s over. We can’t change it. You’re safe.”
The calming silence echoed around us after the raging cacophony of the storm
“Boyfriend, huh?” The weird little thrill that word gave me was foreign as hell.
Awkward.
Scary.
And kinda exciting.
Lance chuckled. “If you’re okay with it.”
“It’s a first, for sure.”
“I like us having firsts together,” Lance said, his breath soft against my ear.
I leaned in closer but hissed when my chin scraped over the seam of his jacket.
Pulling back quickly, Lance took my chin in hand and winced. “That looks sore.”
“Stitches?”
“No, I think it’s more a scrape and bruise than a cut.” He glanced around the little shed. “Do you have a first-aid kit out here?”
“Yeah,” I said, moving to stand and pulling him up from the floor. “There should be battery-operated lanterns. There’s a little hot plate we can use to warm water from the pump—as long as the generator is working. We can wash off, hang our clothes around to dry, and sleep.”
We moved around the tiny shed, turning on the lanterns and hanging up our wet jackets. The boots we’d both had on would take days to dry and likely smell like wet dog and musty feet for the rest of time.
“Sit at the table,” Lance said. “I’ll get some water. We can start it warming up while I clean your chin.”
While he went out to the pump, I grabbed the big pot and the hot plate. We wouldn’t be boiling the water, but it would at least get warm for a quick wash-up. I pulled out two washcloths, two large towels, and the first-aid kit.
Before Lance returned, I turned on the generator and plugged in the hot plate. Shucking out of my wet shirt and pants, I laid them on the back of two chairs in hopes they’d be dry—or at least less soaked—by morning.
With a shiver, I rummaged in the tiny closet until I found the sheets. The full-sized bed took up the majority of the little shed, and I maneuvered around the edges as I pulled the fitted sheet over the mattress and spread the top sheet over it. The night was cooler now that the storm had rolled through, but I wasn’t sure it was cool enough to warrant me digging deeper to find a quilt. I figured Lance and I could keep each other warm enough.
“Damn, that’s a sight I wouldn’t mind seeing every time I walk through the door,” Lance said, a grin dancing on his words as he took in the wet underwear plastered to my ass while I bent to finish the bed.
Smiling, loving the light, fluffy feeling in my chest, I moved back to the chair as Lance poured his bucket of water into the pot and sat it on the hot plate.
“Are we playing naked doctor?” Lance asked, his hot eyes traveling up and down my chest and legs.
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re doing. I’m just being pragmatic and letting my clothes dry.”
“Let me clean your chin,” he said. “After that, anything is fair game.” He stripped out of his clothes, never taking his eyes from mine.
He hung his shirt and pants to dry.
Adjusted the waistband of his soaking wet boxer briefs.
And winked.
That fuckin’ wink.
It did stupid things to my belly, and I cursed the damn blush heating my cheeks.
“Sit down,” Lance ordered as he rummaged through the first-aid kit.
Legs trembling, whether because of the storm and exertion or because my boyfriend was sexy as fuck when he got bossy, I sank into a kitchen chair.
Lance tossed supplies on the table and stepped between my legs. Gripping my chin, he studied the gash in the dim light of the tiny shed. “Needs cleaned or it’ll get infected. This might?—”
I gasped when the peroxide-soaked gauze wiped over the wound. “Fuck! You didn’t even count down!” Hissing as he swiped over the cut again, I tried to back away.
“Sit still. There’s dirt in it.” He got a new piece of gauze and splashed peroxide on it. “One more, then I’ll be done.” It didn’t sting any less the next time, but my nose caught a whiff of Lance, and all I wanted to do was press my face to his torso and breathe him in deeply.
“Maybe you should kiss it better,” I said, my eyes zoned in on the thick erection now tenting his underwear.
Lance smirked and leaned in to blow softly over my chin. “Better?”
I shook my head and tapped my lips. “It hurts right here.”
He lost the battle to hold back his grin and fire glowed in his grayish-green eyes. Tipping my chin, Lance brushed his lips over mine. “I think maybe you should get in bed. You don’t want to catch a chill.”
“A chill,” I echoed, nodding solemnly. “Definitely don’t want to catch a chill. I bet it would help me stay chill-free if I could find a sexy silver fox to cuddle up next to me.”
Lance gently covered my injury with two small bandages before pressing a kiss to my lips. “Don’t know about the sexy part, but I can provide the silver.”
Snorting, I stood and shucked off my wet underwear. “You’re doing just fine in the sexy department.” Gesturing toward the hot plate, I said, “The water should be warm.”
Lance stripped out of his underwear and tossed me one of the washcloths. “Come ’ere,” he growled. Dipping the cloth into the pot of water, he squeezed out the excess and wiped the warm water over my chest and down my arms.
Wetting my cloth, I mirrored his movements.
By the time he spun me and gently washed my back, pressing kisses between my shoulder blades, I’d lost all focus on cleaning up. Every single thought was gathered in my cock.
In the dim light of the shed, we finished our own clean-up, paying attention to the more intimate areas before turning off the hot plate and spreading the washcloths out to dry.
A cool breeze blew through the window screens, and I shivered.
“See? A chill.” Lance pulled down the top sheet. “Climb in.”
Naked and spent from the storm, I let Lance pull my little spoon into his big spoon under the light sheet.
Sleep wasn’t in my plan when I crawled into the small bed, but exhaustion combined with Lance’s warm body pressed against me, and sleep won out.
When I woke sometime later, the very first streaks of pink and orange painted the sky. The shed smelled of cold and rain, but I was warm with Lance wrapped protectively around me.
Not gonna lie, the bed was cramped. We were both pretty big dudes, but having him pressed against me, holding me, was the best feeling in the world.
How had I ever thought I didn’t need this?
Didn’t need him?
Reaching behind me, I caressed a hand up and down Lance’s leg from hip to knee.
And smiled when he grumbled.
Letting my hand trail over his leg again, I gave my ass a tiny push backward.
And found his rock-hard cock.
My gasp echoed loudly in the silent shed, the only other sounds the soft breeze, frogs, and crickets playing a medley in the dark orchard.
Gripping his ass, I pulled him forward, our bodies fitting together perfectly.
“You’re playin’ with fire,” Lance growled.
“If fire means you’re going to give me that dick, I’m down.”
Lance gripped my chest and pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “I don’t have any condoms with me.”
Shit.
“Me neither.”
He nibbled gently on my neck, licking over the stinging spot.
“I haven’t been with anyone in nearly a year before you, definitely nothing since my last test. Negative.” His hot words hung heavy and hopeful at my ear.
“I haven’t been with anyone since before you came to town,” I offered. “And my last test was negative.” The boa constrictor around my heart made it hard to breathe.
“Lube?” Lance teased a nipple with the flat of his thumb. “I’m not really a fan of the spit method.”
“There’s Vaseline in the first-aid kit.”
He trailed his hand down my abs and brushed his knuckles over the length of my dick. “This means something to me,” Lance whispered. “You mean something to me.” He stroked my cock and thumbed through the pre-cum.
“Fuck, Lance,” I whimpered.
He shifted to cup my balls, my breath hitching when he squeezed gently. With a soft push to the back of my thigh, he positioned my bent leg on the mattress. Pressing kisses down the center of my back, he stopped to nuzzle his nose between the two dimples of my lower back right above my ass.
“Don’t move,” he whispered before rolling from the bed and rummaging through the first-aid kit like a man on a mission.
He was back before my skin had time to cool, pressing his warmth against me and kissing the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder.
“Open it,” he said as he handed me the Vaseline.
Once I’d worked the lid off, he dipped in two fingers.
The jelly was cool when his fingers worked between my ass cheeks, and I moaned.
“When I take you like this…” His words were gravel over sandpaper. “You’re mine. You belong to me. This pretty little hole is gonna take my bare cock and there’s no going back from that. This is real, Hudson. Do you understand me?”
A strangled cry escaped my lips.
“Forever, Hudson.” Lance gripped my chin, his words stealing my breath. “Say it.”
“Lance,” I sobbed as he pressed first one and then another finger into my ass. “Please, give it to me.”
“Not yet, sweetheart,” Lance soothed at my ear as his slick fingers stretched and teased. “I need to hear it, need to know you understand this is forever. My bare cock deep in your ass, my load burning you up, marking you with my cum.”
I gripped the base of my cock and squeezed to hold off the orgasm. “Forever, Lance. Oh god, give it to me.”
His slick fingers slid from my ass, replaced by the thick head of his cock. Desire hung so heavy on the air I struggled to take my next breath. I cried out as Lance pressed into me, my tight ring giving way to the invasion.
“Fuck, Hudson,” Lance panted, his hips rocking into me. “God, so tight. So fuckin’ good.”
We fell into a hard and fast rhythm, our bodies slapping together creating the perfect background noise. Sweat ran down my temple and the scent of sex hung heavy in the air. Lance’s grunts against my ear matched my own labored breathing.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his hand cupping my balls and teasing my taint.
“I’m so close,” I whined.
“Wanna feel your ass tight around me when you come,” Lance growled, never once losing the rhythm. “Fuck. Gonna give you my load, paint you with my cum.”
His words sent me over the edge, and I exploded, making a mess of my fist and the bed. My ass clenched around Lance’s thick cock, and he groaned. Burying his head in the crook of my neck he took my skin between his teeth. With a final thrust, he froze, grunting as he emptied himself into my ass.
Tiny aftershocks rocked through us as the shed glowed softly in the early morning sunlight.
His arms like vice grips around me, Lance kissed the spot where he bit me. “That wasn’t just sex talk,” he whispered. “I meant it. Forever, Hudson. I can’t go back from what we just shared.”
For several heartbeats, I said nothing.
But then I croaked out, “But what does that mean?”
He gripped my chin and turned my head for a kiss. “It means I’m head over heels in love with you and I’m not going anywhere. You own me.”
“I…” The words lodged in my throat.
“You don’t have to say anything right now. Let’s sleep, clean up, and get home. The main thing you need to understand is I’m in this for good.”
All I could do was nod.