Chapter Twenty Two
Maeve
My morning porch routine has been ruined by Wade's absence. Or rather, ruined by my own stupidity for becoming a girl who actually cares whether a bloke wants to spend time with her. Like come on, girl. Get a grip.
This is exactly why I don’t do routines—whether that’s this stupid morning routine, or something bigger—with others. Because when you start to get used to them, they leave and you’re left behind.
The chair swings ever so slightly as I sip my coffee.
The one that’s almost ice cold due to my overrunning thoughts taking up my attention for the past half an hour.
I sit horizontally on the chair, with my legs bent up, pulling my stupidly baggy T-shirt over them because I am too lazy to grab one of the blankets from inside the house.
He would have been here by now if it were any other day, but not today.
Just like yesterday. I waited for him longer than I care to admit because it doesn’t feel right without him now.
This porch stopped feeling like a place I come to by myselfand started feeling like ours.
Our place to just be us, whatever that looks like in this weird situation
Part of me shouldn’t be surprised though; I did say I needed time to think after that kiss. That very good, very intense kiss. He probably is just giving me the time I asked for, but I just didn’t realise how empty this small part of my day would feel without him here.
I wasn’t this rational yesterday. Not one bloody bit.
In fact, I was raging thinking about how he has practically kissed and ghosted me.
Which, in hindsight, was dramatic. As it was my day off yesterday, I texted Naomi and finally had the courage, fuelled by desperation to get away from the ranch, to drive to town on my own.
We spent the day in the corner booth of Blessed Beans devouring cups of iced coffee while we spoke about everything but Wade, of course.
I don’t think I’d be all that great at hiding how I am feeling, never really been my forte.
As Iris always tells me, my face says it all.
Instead, I listened to Naomi talk about how drastic her life has changed over the past six months, from finishing business school to getting the shop up and running and ending things with Colt.
She mentioned that she thought he would be the one.
Your very typical small-town childhood sweetheart story.
She veered off saying that he is the sweetest boy he knows but just needs to love himself first before he loves others.
In doing so, she quoted the wise words of drag royalty RuPaul, “If you can't love yourself, how the hell are you going to love someone else?” We laughed so much together, and it took my mind off of everything, even if it was only for a short while.
This all felt strangely normal. The kind of afternoon most people probably wouldn't think twice about. But for me, friendships didn’t happen often because everywhere felt temporary.
Like it wasn’t my place. But this feels different, so I’mallowing myself the opportunity to lean into my new connections, including Naomi, who I’ve come to value so much.
When it was time for her to leave, I decided to stay and read the day away.
Unfortunately, today I cannot do that. I have to stick around and work. Just enjoy the quiet time before the hustle and bustle of the day, I try to convince myself.
I begin reading, this time choosing a book about fae, and not cowboys. Just as I am about to wrap my head around all the complex world-building, I hear the creak of footsteps come from behind me.
In an instant, I swing my legs out of my shirt and sit on the chair how it’s made to be sat on. There he is, at the top of the small porch steps. He came. And then, he walks into the house with no words. Fucking rude cowboy twatface.
I feel the anger rise, but I do my best not to react.
Not to show him that he’s affecting me, returning to my original position facing away from the direction he was just in.
Several attempts of reading the same three lines go by when a layer of soft fabric is wrapped around me with no warning.
It is followed by two tattooed large arms that wrap around me, holding my favourite beverage, the steam instantly heating my face.
He'd even remembered the splash of cream instead of milk I'd started taking it with after I had one in town and fell in love with it.
I feel a light kiss on the top of my head, and the boiling anger turns into a small simmer.
All because he got me a blanket and a coffee, I am such a wet wipe.
It shouldn't matter. It's just a blanket and a coffee. Yet, my chest does that annoying squeeze it keeps doing lately whenever he notices what I need before I ask.
Wade moves around to sit near my feet, giving me a small smile before acting like everything is normal.
“Nope, you can’t just sit there in silence after being disappearing yesterday.”
“Did someone miss me?” his cocksure tone irritates me but also has heat pooling between my thighs.
“You weren’t here yesterday,” I point out.
“And you were nowhere to be found on the ranch, so I guess that makes us even.”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Yes, Maeve, because as much as I know this is a terrible decision, I can’t get you out of my fucking head. It’s killing me knowing you’re here on my ranch, in my house, drinking my coffee, and yet you’re not mine.”
I gulp the coffee and force myself to maintain eye contact.
He continues, “You said you needed time, and I am trying to respect that. To protect everyone, especially Colt, it will need to be a secret until you have to leave, but it can be our secret if you’re willing to make that choice…”
My stomach twists at the mention of me leaving, because suddenly all I can think about is everything—and everyone—I’ll be leaving behind.
Mrs. Mae fussing over whether I’ve eaten enough. Horse rides with Colt. Naomi dragging me out for coffee. Mornings spent on this porch with a grumpy cowboy and a mug of coffee warming my hands.
The thought of it leaves an ache in my chest.
Maybe that's what scares me most.
Because if I let myself have this—have him—then eventually I'll have to leave it behind.
Losing something you've never truly had is one thing. Losing something that finally feels like the thing you've been chasing all this time is a different one entirely.
My feet slip as I attempt to shuffle myself to sit fully upright, instead of the slouch I let myself fall into. I knock Wade in doing so.
“Wow there, angel, don’t think my absence warrants a beating,” he laughs. He looks so bright, the brightest I have seen him since being here. No trace of the brooding Cowboy Batman, not that I will change his name.
“Look, I just wanted to give you some time, like you asked for.” He reaches over and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Such a simple gesture, but Wade isn’t a naturally touchy person. Every touch from him feels deliberate, like it means something.
He continues, “I apparently don’t have the patience to go another day.”
In that moment, all the reasons why we shouldn’t do anything come rushing to me, but then he places his hand on my bare leg, and I feel the roughness against my freshly shaven legs. Not that I was preparing for anything to happen. I squirm a little from the ache I feel in my core.
“I am afraid you might have to be a little more patient. I don’t think I have come to an answer yet, Wade…
there’s so much—” In seconds, this man is on his feet.
He lifts my chin slightly to look up at him as he towers over me, staring at me with such intensity.
A position that any sane woman would feel intimidated by, but not me.
No, I am sat here ready to combust over the dominant aura he has.
“That’s fine, Maeve…” his hand slowly traces down my shoulder, which is now bare from him moving the fabric off the T-shirt. “But I think you should make an informed decision, and to do so, you are missing one vital piece of information.” His hands continue wandering.
I swallow hard. “And what information would that be?” my voice, despite my efforts, does not sound as confident as I want it to be. Instead, I am very much a girl staring at a man she wants, even if my sensible self won’t give in. Not fully,anyway.
Wade bends lower, his mouth close to my ear. I can feel the warmth of his breath against it. “How good it will feel when I make you cum.”
A gasp escapes me, Wade's mouth now kissing my neck. My body tingles with anticipation.
“Do you want all the information, Maeve?”
I nod, because fuck being sensible.
“I am going to need you to say it, angel.” He demands, his voice so low and soft that I fear I will cum by listening to it alone.
“I want to know how good it will feel when you make me cum, Wade,” I really do. “Please,” I add.
My legs are pulled to the front of the chair, and he drags my ass slightly forward, allowing him room to force my legs apart. He crouches down between them when I hear him growl, “Fuck, Maeve, I don’t even have to touch you to see how wet you are. That pretty blue thong is soaking.”
His face disappears under the baggy T-shirt, until all I can see is his cowboy hat. I feel his lips on my inner thighs, getting closer to my pussy with each kiss. His hands are holding the swing chair on either side of me, preventing it from moving. The veins in his arms pop; why is that so hot?
I move in closer, desperate for him to reach his destination, and when he does, he lets go of the swing chair, causing his face to be fully buried into my pussy. Just the thin layer of my thong between us.
Not that it lasts that long because as quickly as I complain in my head about that barrier, Wade creates some space between us, allowing room for both of his hands to come under my shirt and tear the thong in two. He pulls it away with one hand and stuffs it into the back of his jeans.
Now I am bare for him. Nothing between us, and I am dying to know exactly what it feels like to cum for him.
I am just worried it won’t happen. I have only cum for things that are battery operated.
No man has ever given me the attention to get me to where I need to be, only sorted themselves out.
Shows the type of men I have been with—selfish pricks.
Wade Carter is anything but selfish. He runs his tongue along my slit, using his hands to pull the chair into his face for the most glorious firm pressure.
“Fuck Wade,” I rasp, which encourages him to glide his tongue up to my throbbing clit, flicking his tongue against me in a steady rhythm.
My hand clamps onto the arm of the chair, my head tipping back from the shudder of pleasure that runs through me.
Just when I think my body can’t take anymore, he moves his hand back under my shirt, driving a finger deep inside of me, making me cry out.
This is absolutely crazy; I am out in the open, getting fingered fucked by my boss as the sun is rising. Luckily for us, we have time before anyone even starts dragging themselves out of bed—thank God for being an early riser.
Wade appears from between my legs, fingers still sliding in and out of me.
“God, you taste as angelic as you look,” he groans at me, the slickness of me evident all over his beard. He grabs the back of the chair with his free hand, pulling it to him, so our mouths meet. He kisses me with such hunger, and I can taste myself on him as I moan against him.
“Are you ready to cum now, angel?” he says against my lips in a low whisper.
“Yes, please,” I beg.
He begins to rock the chair, using it to pump his fingers deeper inside me. It has me panting in time with each rock, pressure building up to my approaching orgasm. I claw onto Wade’s shoulder, digging my nails in. This is too much.
“Wade… I am going to cum.”
He moves faster. Deeper.
“Cum for me, Maeve. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.” He says in my ear, then starts to kiss my neck.
And that’s it. Him calling me a good girl sends me over the edge. Clutching onto his broad shoulders, my body shudders as the muscles inside me contract around his fingers.
I let go of him, letting out the biggest exhale of my life. He removes his fingers from me, back to towering over me as I look up in disbelief.
Then, after another forehead kiss, he states, “You know where I am if you decide you want more.” Then he leaves me alone on the porch, messy from my arousal. I watch him walk away, the bright blue fabric hanging from his back pocket.