Chapter 14
fourteen
. . .
Judy
It's been three days since that man came looking for me.
Three days since Wayne stood like an avenging angel between me and my past, his voice cold as ice as he promised violence to protect me.
I should have been terrified—and I was, but not of Wayne.
Never of Wayne. Instead, something shifted inside me when I saw him defend me so fiercely.
The last piece of doubt, of hesitation, fell away.
I've never felt safer than in the shadow of this man who claimed me as his with such absolute certainty.
"She's mine," he had said. And he's right.
I am his. Have been since the moment I stepped foot on his land.
Wayne's been different since that day. More vigilant.
More possessive. His eyes track me constantly as I move around the house, the yard, the barn.
He's added extra locks to the doors, checks the property perimeter each morning and evening.
At night, he holds me tighter, as if afraid I might disappear.
But beneath the protectiveness, there's something else—a restraint that's fraying at the edges.
I see it in the way his jaw clenches when I bend over to pick something up.
In the darkness of his eyes when I emerge from the shower, skin flushed and damp.
In the growing bulge behind his zipper that he tries to hide when I curl against him on the couch.
He's holding back. Still treating me like something fragile that might break.
But I'm not fragile. Not anymore. The scared girl who showed up on his doorstep has been replaced by someone stronger. Someone who knows what she wants.
And what I want is him. All of him.
The thought sends heat pooling between my thighs, makes my nipples tighten beneath my tank top. I've made my decision. Today is the day I stop waiting for him to decide I'm ready. Today is the day I show him I already am.
I find him in the barn, where he's been spending more time lately—fixing things that don't need fixing, reinforcing doors and windows.
Preparing, though he won't say for what.
The muscles in his back flex beneath his t-shirt as he lifts a heavy beam into place.
I pause in the doorway, momentarily mesmerized by the play of strength under sun-darkened skin.
"Need something, angel?" he asks without turning around. He always knows when I'm near, like he has some sixth sense tuned specifically to me.
My heart pounds against my ribs, nervousness warring with determination. I've practiced what I want to say, but now that the moment is here, the words stick in my throat.
Wayne turns, eyebrows raised at my silence. His gaze sweeps over me, taking in my appearance—cutoff shorts, tank top, bare feet. His expression softens.
"What is it?" he asks, setting down his tools and wiping his hands on a rag. "Something wrong?"
I shake my head, stepping further into the barn. Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming through the high windows, giving the space a dreamy, otherworldly quality.
"Nothing's wrong," I say, finding my voice. "Just wanted to see you."
His lips quirk up at the corner, not quite a smile. "Well, here I am."
I move closer, stopping only when I'm directly in front of him. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, to smell the sweat and sawdust and pure male scent of him.
"Wayne," I begin, heart hammering so loudly I'm sure he must hear it. "Do you remember what you said? That day, to that man?"
His expression darkens slightly. "Said a lot of things that day."
"You said I was yours." The words come out breathier than I intended. "Under your protection."
He nods slowly, eyes intent on mine. "Meant every word."
"I know." I step closer, eliminating the last bit of space between us. My breasts brush against his chest, and I feel his sharp intake of breath. "I've been thinking about that. About being yours."
His hands come to my waist, large and warm and steadying. "Judy?—"
"I want more of you, Wayne," I cut him off, the words tumbling out before I lose my nerve. "All of you."
His grip tightens, eyes darkening to forest green. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm ready." I place my palms on his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath my touch. "I don't want to wait anymore. I want you inside me. Want to be completely yours."
A sound escapes him—half groan, half growl—and his control seems to slip for a moment. His hands slide lower, gripping my hips, pulling me hard against him so I can feel the rigid length of his erection through his jeans.
"Do you know what you're asking for?" he says, voice rough. "It's going to hurt. First time always does. And I'm not small."
The crude reminder of his size sends another rush of heat through me. I've felt him against me, through our clothes. Caught glimpses of the impressive bulge when he changes or showers. The thought of taking all of him is both terrifying and thrilling.
"I know," I whisper. "I want it anyway. Want you."
He studies my face, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. He won't find any. I've never been more certain of anything in my life.
When he doesn’t kiss me, doesn’t move, I experience a moment of insecurity. “Don’t you want me?”
His hands slide up my back, one continuing to the nape of my neck where he grips gently, tilting my face up to his. "Want doesn't begin to cover it, angel. Been holding back so long I'm about to lose my fucking mind."
Relief floods me. “ Then stop holding back," I challenge, newfound boldness surging through me. "Take what's yours."
For a moment, I think he will. His eyes darken further, pupils expanding until only a thin ring of green remains. His grip tightens, body tensing like a predator about to pounce.
Then he exhales slowly, regaining control. "Not here. Not like this." He presses a kiss to my forehead, surprisingly gentle given the tension thrumming through his body. "When I finally claim you completely, it'll be in my bed. Our bed. Gonna take my time with you. Do it right."
Disappointment floods me, but it's tempered by the promise in his words. Not a rejection. Just a delay.
"When?" I ask, not bothering to hide the need in my voice.
"Tonight," he says, the word a vow.
I rise on tiptoes to press my lips to his.
He kisses me back, harder than before, a preview of what's to come. When he finally pulls away, we're both breathing heavily, desire a tangible force between us.
"Tonight," he repeats, the single word filled with promise and hunger and something that sounds like reverence.
Tonight. The word echoes in my mind as I walk back to the house on unsteady legs, my body already humming with anticipation. Tonight I'll give myself to him completely. Tonight I'll truly become his.