Oakley
Thirty-Four
Idon’t know what time it is when I wake up, but if the sun sitting high in the sky and shining like a beacon through my window is any indication, it’s late.
I roll over, stretching with a wince at the dull throb in my hip from the night before. I sit up and pry my eyes open. The sun is even brighter than I anticipated, and I immediately snap my eyes shut and throw my hands over my face until I can adjust.
The smell of coffee and eggs wafts through my open door, and my stomach growls loudly in protest. Taking that as my cue to get my ass out of bed, I stand.
Taking a tentative step forward, I’m surprised to find none of the expected pain in my hip.
I mean, it’s a bit tender, and no doubt sporting a nasty purple bruise, but it doesn’t hurt much when I walk.
I tug at my sleep clothes as I move towards the door.
I’m absolutely swimming in Levi’s clothes.
I straighten them before making my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Levi is standing at the stove, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. They hang low on his hips, and I take a minute to appreciate the lines of muscle in his back and across his broad shoulders.
He is breathtaking.
Flashes from last night float back to me, and, as if on cue, my hip throbs in response as I round the kitchen island.
And then there’s the reminder of what happened after my mishap in the shower.
The heated tension coiling between us like the steam from the hot bath, curling around us and enveloping us in a bubble of longing and desire.
It had taken everything in me not to throw myself at him last night and beg for him to do what we’ve both been anticipating for a while now.
I could see it in his eyes too, could feel the restraint holding him back even as his eyes screamed that he’d rather throw caution to the wind and finally give in to the tension between us.
Then there was the way he wrapped his large hand around the front of my neck, not squeezing, but simply holding me in that one possessive motion that had me like putty in his hands.
I would have done pretty much anything he asked of me in that moment, no matter how depraved.
And then the press of his lips against my forehead?
So gentle and contrary to the dominating way in which he held my throat.
The juxtaposition of the two has my breath catching in my throat and a pretty pink blush staining my cheeks even now.
I’m pulled from my daydream when Levi turns, a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He grins at me brightly, setting the breakfast down on the kitchen island and motioning for me to sit.
“Good morning,” he says as he loads a second plate up with food and takes his usual seat across from me.
“Morning.” I lift the mug to my lips and swallow down a mouthful of the maple coffee. It’s quickly become a favorite of mine, and, lucky for me, it seems like this house is always stocked up.
“How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in weeks, honestly.” I stab a bit of egg with my fork, the clinking of Levi’s utensils telling me he’s started digging in as well.
“Good, I’m glad. I did too.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, and I debate whether or not I should bring up last night.
It’s comfortable this morning, but the light of day makes me question whether or not it would be considered polite mealtime discussion, at least the parts of the night I want to bring up.
I decide against it. There will be plenty of time to talk and work through things later.
Bandit nudges my hand in greeting, and I pat his head, breaking off a small piece of bacon and handing it to him.
“I saw that.”
I shrug. “Wasn’t trying to hide it. You’re too hard on him.
Look at that face.” I peer down at the dog in adoration, his answering canine smile nothing short of undying love as he stares back at me, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
Or maybe it’s not undying love for me but for the bacon he knows I can give him. Either way, I’ll take it.
“So, I meant to mention this last night, but then you went and distracted me, and I forgot.”
My stomach flips at the insinuation and my blush deepens, but I ignore it, opting instead to pretend that the thought of his hands in my hair doesn’t send my heart and head into a tailspin. “Mention what?”
“There’s a job in a town a few hours from here. They’re bringing in a few of our guys to help out. It should only be three days.”
“Oh.” My heart sinks at the thought of him being gone. Maybe this is a good thing. A little space. A little clarity. A little time to sort through the turmoil in my mind on my own.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it sooner. I was going to bring it up after the bar closed but… well, things were a bit heated there.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that. I had no right to get that upset about Layla.” I hide my face behind the curtain of my hair, my eggs suddenly fascinating as I avoid Levi’s gaze.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do, though. You’re not… I mean, we’re not…” Together? Is that what I mean?
Levi is quiet, and the weight of what he wants to say hangs like a guillotine above us.
“We’re not what?” he prompts, and, dammit, can’t he leave it alone? I don’t presume to know what he’s thinking, but I guarantee the things he said last night were just in the heat of the moment.
I’m on my knees here, darlin’. Have you figured it out?
“I don’t want to assume.” My voice is soft, my head bowed. I can’t look him in the eyes. Embarrassment pinks my cheeks.
Levi pushes his chair back and rounds the island until the heat of him envelopes me. Still, I don’t look up.
He waits a minute, as if allowing me to decide whether I’m going to lift my head or not.
I can’t though. I’m frozen in time, shame coursing through me.
It’s not the shame of what little we shared last night, but rather shame at the tiny voice in my head that thought it might be different this time, might mean something.
A finger under my chin tilts my head until I’m peering up into deep green eyes.
“I want you to assume. All those thoughts swirling through your head right now? They’re normal.
They’re valid fears. But I want you to fight them this time.
I see you, Oakley. I see the way you question yourself and the way you question others.
I can’t blame you for that. But I need you to fight, baby.
You deserve to be loved and cherished, but how can you accept someone else’s version of that when you don’t believe you deserve it? ”
His words echo through my mind, bouncing around and chipping at the wall I’ve built around myself. I’ve built a fortress that screams, “I’m not worthy!”
My whole life, I’ve allowed these self-deprecating thoughts to seep into me until they’ve fused with my soul and turned me into someone I don’t want to be. I’ll admit, Travis didn’t change any of that. He didn’t even try, but I didn’t either.
I didn’t fight to stop the thoughts. I’ve been cruel to myself for far longer than Travis ever was. I’m not excusing what he did, or the hand he had in pushing me down until I felt like I was worthless. But how was he able to shove me down that far if I wasn’t already acting like I deserved it?
Maybe the way we receive love is a reflection of how we view ourselves. Levi is right. I’ve spent way too long wishing I was someone else, while simultaneously hating myself.
“Just promise me you’ll try?”
“I promise,” I whisper, and though my voice is weak, I mean it with every fiber of my being.
“Attagirl,” he murmurs against my skin as he plants a soft kiss on my forehead.
He towers over me, and I take a minute to fully appreciate the size of him. Our size difference would normally intimidate me, but I feel nothing but safe and protected in his presence.
Maybe this is what he’s been trying to show me all along. That even though I’ve been hurt before, there is still someone out there worth fighting through my own barriers for.
“Just gonna run upstairs and change quickly,” he says, and I miss the warmth of his body the moment he steps away.
When he returns a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans and a gray T-shirt that hugs his muscles perfectly, he moves back in front of me and places another gentle kiss on my temple. I can’t help but be a little sad that he’s leaving.
“When do you leave?”
He sighs and steps back, bending to grab a large duffel bag off the floor and swinging the strap over his shoulder. I frown as I watch him. I don’t want him to go, even for a few days.
“Now. I’m meeting the guys at the shop, and we’ll head out from there.”
I nod my understanding, fighting back the tears that prick my eyes, not wanting him to see how much I don’t want him to leave.
He notices anyway. “Hey,” he says, cupping my jaw. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
I nod again and follow him to the front door, Bandit trailing behind us with his tail wagging.
“Call me tonight?” I ask tentatively.
“I’ll call you every chance I get. And when I can’t call, I’ll text you. You’re gonna be sick of me by the time I get home.” His carefree chuckle lightens the mood, and I crack a small smile.
“Impossible.”
He reaches over to grab his keys off the hook beside the door. Before I know what’s happening, he’s pushing my back against the door with a gentle hand. His forearms rest on either side of my head, caging me in. My heart stutters in my chest at the look in his eyes.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he admits, and my heart does another flip.
My eyes drop to his lips as I lick my own, desperately wanting to taste what’s been standing right in front of me this whole time. Wanting to taste him.
One thing I know for sure is that we reached a breaking point last night, and I know that, even in the light of day today, there will be no putting the pieces back together.
“I wasn’t sure after last night—” He’s so close. I take a shuddering breath and try again. “It felt like something changed.”
“Nothing changed, darlin’. I just finally stopped trying to hide how utterly gone I am for you. It took everything in me to hold myself back from touching you last night.”
“Why did you? Stop yourself, I mean,” I ask.
He hangs his head, loosing a breath before those dark green eyes are back on mine.
“You were hurt and still on edge after seeing me with Layla, despite it not being what it looked like. But make no mistake, Oakley. When I finally get my hands on you, nothing and no one will be able to pull me away. I’m going to take my time with you.
Strip you down and catalog every single inch of you with my hands and my tongue.
Worship your body the way it’s meant to be worshiped—endlessly, relentlessly, until you’re writhing with pleasure and begging me to stop.
I’m not sure I’ll ever have my fill of you, but fuck do I want to try. ”
I lick my dry lips just before he crashes his mouth into mine, effortlessly parting me with his tongue.
This. This right here is what I want. His lips are possessive and controlling; I feel it the moment I fracture.
I can’t respond to his declaration, but, if I could, I’d be answering with a resounding yes.
Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him further into me, my kiss equally as demanding as his, my own silent way of claiming him as mine.
My breasts push against his chest, my nipples hard and aching against him.
He pulls away after a moment, and the absence of him pulls me reluctantly back to reality. We’re both breathless, our eyes frenzied as we stare at each other, trying desperately to cling to this moment.
“Go. I don’t want you to be late.” It’s a lie; I honestly couldn’t give two fucks if he’s late.
“Fuck, darlin’. I don’t want to leave you. How am I supposed to concentrate on work when I finally know what those pretty pink lips taste like?”
His words send a shiver down my spine. “You’ll have to make it up to me,” I answer, shrugging nonchalantly as if I’m suggesting what to have for dinner.
“Mmm… how should I make it up to you? With my hands?” He trails his fingers down the length of my body. “With my tongue?” He licks the hollow at the base of my throat. “With my cock?” He whispers his last suggestion into the spot at the base of my ear, his words dripping over me like liquid sex.
“Yes,” I sigh. “All of the above, please.”
“Such good manners,” he growls before stepping back and shattering the moment. It was just a kiss, just a glimpse into what it’ll be like when we finally come together, this time with nothing between us. I’m a pool of wanton desire, desperate for him to finish what he started.
He grabs his bag and kisses my forehead once more before opening the door.
“I’ll call you when I get there. Call Jessie and see if she can come to work with you. I don’t like the thought of you on your own.”
“I’ll call her.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he urges.
“I promise.”
He nods his approval and steps through the door, shutting it behind him with a click. Bandit whines at my side and looks up at me with pleading eyes.
“I know, buddy. I’ll miss him too. How about a hike?
” Bandit lets out a woof of agreement, and I make my way upstairs to get dressed.
I send a quick text to Jessie asking her to join us, and she responds immediately to tell me she’ll meet me at the house in thirty minutes.
Thankfully, I don’t work tonight, so we can take as long as we want soaking in the dwindling summer sun.
I dress quickly, pulling on a pair of black leggings, sports bra, and simple gray tank top.
I’m just securing the claw clip around my twisted hair when a knock sounds at the door downstairs.
I finish my task quickly, and by the time I’m bounding down the stairs, Jessie is pushing her way through the front door.
“Hey, you! The door was unlocked, so I let myself in.” Jessie’s smile is bright, and there’s an excited energy buzzing through her. God, her personality is contagious.
I return her smile, feeling a renewed sense of happiness that our impromptu plans worked out in our favor today. She’s quickly becoming one of my favorite people in North Creek. It’s effortless with her, and it feels like I’ve known her for years rather than mere weeks.
“Let me grab some socks, and then I’ll be ready to go. Can you grab Bandit’s collar? It’s on the hook by the back door.”
“You got it. We’ll meet you outside in the car.”
I rush back up the stairs, throw on some mismatched hiking socks, and grab my boots.
Before I leave my room, though, I double check to make sure I have everything I’ll need, shoving my phone into the side pocket of my hiking pack. I close the bedroom door behind me, the rustic mountain sign swinging back and forth as I walk outside to join my friend.