“Such a buzzkill!” she laughs. “Go let loose for once and enjoy your life. It’s the only one you’ve got.”
Jake’s footsteps get closer, and I hang up the line, trying not to notice how great he looks with his flannel sleeves rolled, dark ink streaking out, rough cut logs piled in his flexing arms. Instead, I direct my attention to the soft flicker of the fireplace and the details of the cabin.
The built-in bookcases. The live edge mantle. The river stone fireplace. The kitchen that looks primed and ready for a full country breakfast. I’m imagining pancakes, eggs, sausage, biscuits, gravy, orange juice squeezed fresh, and a whole stick of butter on the center of the table.
“Did you do all this yourself?” My voice cracks as I speak.
“The guys helped a lot, but yeah, it’s been my main project since I got out of the halfway house. You like cabins?”
“Love them! I grew up in a little cabin up near Eagle Rock, but my mom sold the place when my dad died, and she bought that massive house just off Main Street. The one with the hanging ferns. I’m sure you’ve seen it.”
He nods slowly. “That’s a gorgeous old house. I can see your mom loving a place like that. How the heck did a person like her end up with your dad, anyway? I know they say opposites attract and all but…”
I shrug. “I always wondered that too. There’s research that opposites do attract initially, but for long-term fulfillment in a relationship, it’s actually the similarities that help.”
He nods and tosses another log into the fire. “You pick that up in college? What kind of psychology did you study?”
“General Psychology. A little bit of everything,” I grin, “of course, because I couldn’t make up my mind. I figure I learned a lot about people and I can take that into whatever job I’m at.”
“Do you like it at the shop?” he asks as he stacks the wood near the fireplace.
“I love it.” I smile. “I get to see you every day.”
There’s a long pause as he balances wood, before turning back and settling on the couch next to me with a groan. His arm stretches out behind me, and his fingertips play with my hair, the scent of burning pine and cedar filling the room. “I have to say, that’s the highlight of my day too. I looked for reasons to stop by the office most days.” He laughs. “Not sure if you know this but there’s really not a whole lot of work for me to do in the actual office. I think that’s when I knew this little crush I had was a problem.”
Did he just say he’s had a crush on me for a while? I mean, I knew we were feeling closer out in the snow, but I had no idea he’s been thinking about me.
I bite back a smile, trying to stay cool. “You still think it’s a problem?”
“Not sure I care anymore if it’s a problem or not. I just know I need you.” His gaze is heavy, never leaving mine.
A wave of urgency washes over me. The kind where your body tells you to move without your brain having to make sense of it first. Jake seems to feel it too because his eyes have gone dark again.
Maybe it’s because we’ve wanted each other so long, maybe it’s the rush of doing something out of the norm, or maybe it’s because it’s finally our turn.
I climb up onto his lap, and he kisses me with tender abandon, like everything in our lives has led up to this moment. His hands are in my hair, on my skin, tearing off my dress and then my bra.
I’m tugging off his shirt, weaving the tips of my fingers through his chest hair, lifting off him to pull down his jeans before climbing back on again.
The living room is shadowed by the early evening sun, and the crackling fire casts a warm glow around us.
As we’re naked with our bodies pressed against one another, I feel the hard, thick length of his cock against my inner thigh. “Lay out for me, little lamb. I want to taste you.” His voice is low and hot against the lobe of my ear as he spills me back onto the couch and spreads my legs, kissing his way up toward my soaking pussy.
Until today, sex has always been a fantasy. Turns out, fantasies are nothing compared to real life.
His big, inked hands spread my thighs further as he leans in to kiss me with firm pressure. Then, with the tip of his tongue, he edges inside with a growl as he breathes me in.
“Fuck.” A single word mutters from his mouth before he enjoys his meal.
And dear Lord, the man eats!
His thick fingers slide inside of me, hooking to reach a spot that’s never been touched, while his tongue works my clit in a firm circular motion.
My thighs shake and my hips arch up, scrubbing inadvertently against his beard. Why does that tickle feel so damn nice? This is nothing like a vibrator. In fact, I never want a vibrator again.
Am I supposed to want to come this fast, because I’m about to lose it!
He thrusts his fingers in further, applying more pressure to the spot that makes me squirm, then growls as I do, lapping up the liquid pooling between my legs.
