Chapter 2
chapter two
Brock Wilder
I can’t get the stubborn little redhead out of my head.
It started earlier today at the grocery store.
I’d only stopped in for a few supplies after my shift when I spotted her.
She was on her tiptoes, reaching for a carton of milk on the top shelf, her curves straining against her shirt, that long auburn hair swinging down her back.
For a moment I was struck dumb. I’d never seen a woman as beautiful as her.
In that single heartbeat I could picture it all, her in my arms, my mouth on hers, making love to her slow and deep, then claiming her hard over and over until she knew exactly who she belonged to.
I hated that she was staying in that old cabin on the lake. I’ve driven past it more than once, and I knew it wasn’t in the best shape. When the call came in about a cabin fire, I knew it was hers. The thought of her in danger hit me like a punch to the gut.
When I pulled her out of those flames, something deep inside my chest clicked into place. She isn’t just another rescue. She’s mine.
I’ve been a firefighter for thirty years. I’ve carried out children, grandparents, and grown men twice my size without a second thought. None of them ever made my blood run this hot. None of them ever made me want to claim them the way I want to claim her.
I pull my truck up to my secluded mountain home and kill the engine.
She climbs out on her own, determined as hell to prove she doesn’t need my help.
She’s a tiny thing, barely five foot four, but those curves don’t quit.
Thick thighs filling out her leggings, full hips, and an hourglass figure that makes my hands itch to grab hold.
Her long auburn hair swings down her back, and those bright blue eyes flash pure defiance.
Freckles dust her nose and shoulders. She’s a walking temptation, and she has no idea what she’s done by landing on my doorstep tonight.
“Guest room’s at the end of the hall,” I tell her. My voice comes out gruffer than I intend. “Bathroom’s attached. Clean towels are in there. Make yourself at home.”
She follows me inside with her arms crossed under that generous bust, chin held high. “I’m not staying long. Just until I find another place tomorrow.”
I turn to face her. She’s close enough that I catch her scent, smoke mixed with something sweet like vanilla. The thought of her leaving tomorrow pisses me off more than it should. If I had it my way, she’d never leave.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” I say.
Her blue eyes narrow. “Not sure there’s much to talk about.”
I reach out slowly and brush a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Can’t blame a man for wanting a beautiful woman in his home,” I murmur, my voice low and rough.
She blushes, a pretty pink spreading across those freckled cheeks, and I fight back a smile. “I’m not pretty right now,” she mutters. “I’m covered in soot and smell like a bonfire.”
“You’re beautiful,” I say simply. Because it’s the truth. Then I step back before I do something reckless like pull her closer. “There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself to anything. I’ll be out back if you need me.”
I leave her standing there with her mouth slightly open and head down the hall to my room. The adrenaline crash from the fire, combined with this woman now under my roof, has drained every last bit of energy I had left. But my body doesn’t seem to care.
I pause in the doorway, my mind drifting back to this afternoon. To the way she looked at me in that grocery store aisle, not intimidated, not cowed, but defiant. Most people back down when I give them that look. They apologize for existing in my space. They make themselves smaller.
Not her.
She’d stood there on her tiptoes reaching for milk, and when I warned her not to cause trouble, she met my eyes without flinching.
Told me she wasn’t planning on it. There was no fear in her voice, no attempt to appease me or smooth things over.
Just quiet certainty that she had every right to be there, and my grumpiness wasn’t going to change that.
That’s what’s gotten under my skin. Not just the curves I caught a glimpse of in that fitted dress, though Christ knows those are distracting enough. It’s the backbone. The way she refused to be intimidated by me. The way she pushed back without aggression, just... steel. Quiet, unshakeable steel.
I’ve spent twenty years around people who defer to me. Who see the scowl and the size and the authority, and they shrink back. But Sadie? She looked at all of that and decided it didn’t matter. She was going to reach for her milk anyway.
That kind of courage does something to a man. Makes you want to pull her closer, keep her safe, make sure nothing ever dims that light in her eyes.
It’s not just her body I want. It’s her. All of her. The defiance, the sass, the refusal to be managed or controlled. That’s what’s really driving me crazy.
I strip off my smoke-stained clothes, leaving them in a pile, and step under the hot spray. The water beats down on my shoulders and back, easing some of the ache in my muscles, but it does nothing to calm the fire raging through my veins.
I grab the soap and start washing the soot and sweat from my body.
Broad chest, arms, abs... but my mind keeps drifting back to her.
Those curves. That defiant spark in her bright blue eyes.
The way she blushed when I brushed her hair behind her ear.
My cock is already rock hard, throbbing against my stomach, aching for attention I haven’t given it in far too long.
Fuck. I haven’t been with a woman in so damn long. No one’s caught my interest in years. But Sadie... she crashed into my life today and flipped every switch I thought was dead.
It’s been months since I’ve even touched myself. Too busy, too numb. But right now, with her just down the hall, I can’t hold back.
I wrap my hand around my thick, aching cock and give it a slow stroke.
A rough groan escapes me. I close my eyes and picture her, those full hips, that generous bust, the freckles dusting her nose and shoulders.
I imagine pinning her against the wall, peeling those soot-stained clothes off her, spreading her thighs and burying myself deep inside her while she moans my name.
My grip tightens. I stroke faster, thumb swiping over the swollen head with every pass.
The hot water and soap make it slick, obscene sounds echoing off the tile.
I want her. I want to claim every inch of her, fill her up, mark her as mine.
I want to hear that sassy mouth beg while I fuck her senseless.
“Fuck, Sadie...” I growl under the spray, pumping harder, chasing the release I’ve denied myself for months. My balls draw up tight, thighs tensing. The fantasy of her on her knees, looking up at me with those blue eyes, it pushes me over the edge.
I come with a deep, guttural groan, thick ropes of cum painting the shower wall as my cock pulses hard in my fist. Wave after wave until I’m spent, breathing ragged.
Even after I rinse off and shut off the water, the hunger hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s worse. She’s mine, and I’m nowhere near done wanting her.
The next morning I’m halfway through a good stack of wood when I feel her eyes on me.
I glance up without stopping, axe swinging in a smooth arc.
She’s standing on the porch in that oversized flannel, arms wrapped around herself, watching my arms and chest as I split another log.
The fabric does nothing to hide her curves.
My body tightens at the sight, cock already stirring after last night.
“See something you like, Red?” I call out, my voice low and rough with teasing.
She startles, her cheeks flaming bright red. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was just getting some air.”
I set the axe against the chopping block and wipe the sweat from my brow. Then I stalk toward the porch, slow and deliberate. She doesn’t back up. That alone makes my blood run hotter. “You’ve been staring for a solid five minutes. I don’t mind, you can look all you want.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself for a man who kidnapped me from my own cabin.”
“Saved you,” I correct her as I step onto the porch. I crowd her space until she has to tilt her head back to meet my eyes. “And you liked it more than you’re willing to admit.”
“Did not,” she shoots back, but her voice comes out breathier now. “You’re arrogant, growly, and way too used to getting your way.”
I lean in closer, bracing one hand on the porch railing beside her hip. “And you’re stubborn, sassy, and the most tempting thing that’s walked into my life in years.” My gaze drops to her full lips for a heartbeat. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
She swallows hard. “You aren’t entirely wrong.”
The air between us crackles. I’m close enough to kiss her.
Close enough to find out exactly how sweet that smart mouth tastes.
My hand lifts on its own, brushing a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear.
She leans into the touch just a fraction, her bright blue eyes darkening with something that looks a lot like hunger.