Chapter Five #2
“He checked in and out all the time. Some days he was super loving and over the top. Others, he barely noticed me. We’d go a week without kissing.
A month without connecting, longer sometimes depending how busy he was.
When I’d try to talk about it, he’d get defensive.
” She takes a sip of coffee. “The worst part is, I think he keeps trying to talk to me because he realizes he made a mistake and he thinks he can fix things, but he had plenty of time for that, and he didn’t, so… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” I glance toward her, my tone more judgmental than I mean for it to be. “Sounds like you know, and that’s why you broke up with him.”
“Yeah, but I’m not perfect either. I mean, I think I overwhelmed him with my feelings sometimes, and—”
“Overwhelmed him with your feelings?”
“Yeah.” She sits back and takes another sip of coffee, her nipples pebbling through her top as though she meant to tease me. “I talked about my feelings a lot. I’m sure that got annoying.”
My brows narrow. “Would you have had to talk about them so much if he was meeting your needs?”
She pauses and holds her stare with mine in the quiet hum of the country music station I keep low in the background while I work. “Yeah,” she chuckles. “You’re good at playing pretend. You’re not at all like most men who run when they hear the word emotions.”
“I’m terrible with them, but I know from experience that when I’m in the wrong relationship, everything is a struggle. What I want, what she needs. I can see when I’m forcing something that doesn’t make sense.”
She tilts her head to the side, her hair falling over her shoulder. “Or… relationships are hard work.”
“That’s a misunderstood statement. Talking through things and having two lives while managing your own problems is difficult, but staying in a constant fight and dealing with disrespect under the guise of ‘working on a relationship’ is bullshit.”
Her light blue eyes roll to the side. “If you know so much about relationships, why aren’t you married?”
I laugh and scrub my hand down over my beard as I lean back in my chair with my cup of coffee. “Probably because I’m too good at handling women’s emotions.”
She chuckles under her breath. “So you don’t date at all?”
“I’ve dated here and there, but my focus has been on other things.”
“Like robbing banks?”
“Like robbing banks.” I nod and laugh a little as I sip the dark roast slowly. “For the record, though, I did imagine a life a lot different than this.”
“Yeah?” she says with a nod. “What did you imagine?”
“Always figured I’d use the skills I’d accumulated to start a contracting business. I really wanted to build houses.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Did for a while, then my grandpa got really sick and I spent all my time taking care of him, neglecting everything else. I lost people’s trust, the bank took the business, but I still needed money for his surgery, so I started making bad decisions.”
“I’m sorry,” she says softly, as though maybe there’s a part of her that understands, though I’m sure that’s my brain tricking itself. “Are you happy now? With this life?”
“What’s happy?” I shrug. “I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and this campground keeps me busy. That’s more than a lot of folks.”
“Right,” she nods and grabs a box of muffins from her bag, pulls off the lid, and passes it toward me, the scent of banana and cinnamon wafting over, “but there’s more to life than surviving. Don’t you want a family?”
“I’m too old for all that shit. Surviving is the best I have at this point.” I take a muffin from the container and hand it back to her. “When did you find time to bake fresh muffins?”
She nods sweetly, taking one out for herself. “I didn’t. I bought them at the bakery and now I’m passing them off as my own. See,” she smirks, “we’re both criminals.”
“Definitely.” I grin, warmth spreading through my chest the wider she smiles. “We’re both criminals. You going to be able to handle the fallout of all this?”
“Of ripping muffins off as my own? I assume you have my back.”
“I don’t know. You’re in a small town. Word gets out and your reputation is mud forever.”
She bites back a smile. “I mean, you’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”
“Depends.” I shrug. “What’s in it for me?”
She looks me up and down, her tongue meeting her bottom lip as her mouth opens and closes again. “I could make it worth your while.”
My cock thumps against my zipper as I stare back.
Is she flirting with me, or is she a filthy little princess playing games? Either way, I’m getting the feeling she needs to learn her lesson.
“And how would you make it worth my while, princess?” I set my coffee on my desk and stand slowly, my cock clearly visible against the leg of my jeans. I’m not sure what the fuck I’m doing, but my body keeps moving like instinct is winning over rational thought, and I don’t know how to stop it.
She swallows hard, her gaze drawing up to mine. “When was the last time you were with a woman?”
I growl low and stand over her, my chest tight, my cock swelling. “That’s an inappropriate question to ask your boss, don’t you think?”
“Maybe,” she sighs and stares up at me, blinking slowly, “but I want to know the answer. How long has it been since anyone’s touched you? Wouldn’t it feel good to release?”
This is the sheriff’s fucking sister! The same sheriff that’s trying to bring me down! The same sheriff that’s been hunting me since Kade disappeared!
Tilly is doing this on purpose. She’s trying to weasel her way in with fake muffins and sex appeal. I’m better than that. I’m fucking better than that!
My cock pulses again as the beast inside of me begins to claw at my resolve. “You’re fucking around, princess. You’re gonna find out.”
“Maybe I want to find out.” She grins. “Maybe I thought about what you’d feel like all night long. Maybe I touched myself to the fantasy of it all, moaning and panting in the employee bathroom as I rubbed one out, the thought of your rough hands on my skin.”
Fuck! “You’re aching for a punishment.”
“Punishment?” She flicks her gaze up to mine, her lips drawing open for a moment before she finds the words. “I dare you.”
Cock pulsing, heart pumping, chest tight, I grip her wrist and turn her back, bending her over the side of the desk, my palm flat against her round, buoyant ass with a hard smack, and then another.
I’m out of control, spanking her ass while my cock’s hard, desperate to tear these jeans off and thrust into her, to feel how wet I’ve made her…
but this isn’t real. This is a game. A game she’s playing very well. A game I’m falling victim to.
I haul my palm back to smack her ass one last time, though my better judgment catches me. Jaw tight, I let go of her wrist and turn away with a growl. “Now sit in that chair and get your work done.”
She twists back toward me, her jaw dropped, her eyes wide. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Oh, princess, you don’t want all I’ve got. Get back to work.” I’ve barely finished my sentence when Atlas radio’s in with a call from the trail.
“We’ve got a hiker down here with a broken leg. Call for an ambulance.”
Shit.
Without direction or another word, Tilly stands from the desk and grabs the first aid kit next to the coffee maker. “You call for the ambulance, and I’ll go down the trail to triage. Where are the keys to your truck?”
“No. I didn’t hire you to triage. You’re here to watch the front desk.”
Her eyes widen as she glares toward me. “But there’s a hiker on the trail that needs help. I’ve been trained in emergency situations. I’m going to assess the damage and stabilize him before the ambulance gets here. You really want someone to suffer until then?”
Fuck.
“Let’s go,” I groan, grabbing the keys from the desk as I call 911, Tilly’s punishment for this act of defiance already rattling around in my head.