Permission.
This time, I don't tease. I seal my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp, and indulge in the feel of her. The taste of her. It's heady and I want more. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt and I don't hold back. It's easy to lose myself in the feel of her curves pressed against me.
"Now that's the real deal." The comment breaks through the haze overwhelming us, a reminder that we're not alone. And this performance was exactly that. A performance.
But if that was strictly true, my cock wouldn't be aching and hard as stone right now.
"Uncle Cliffy," she protests, turning to look at him with fond exasperation and maybe a bit of relief that she has an excuse to cut the connection humming between us. "You need to take your medicine."
"I won't forget. Just like I won't forget my morning run. Or the flowers for Mrs. Calloway." He waves to me as he starts to go back into his bedroom. "Good night to you, son."
"Good night, sir."
Reena watches him go and sighs, then meets my gaze once more. "Thank you for that. Evenings can be tough. His memory gets worse, he's more irritated and angry about things. Confuses me with my mom."
"You're managing a lot." It's true, but it's not enough. "I'm glad I could help tonight."
She offers me a small smile. "You made things easier. That's worth a lot. I'm really grateful."
The memory of that kiss lingers in the quiet that stretches between us and my fingers itch to reach for her once more. But I don't give in to the urge.
"What did your uncle mean when he said he won't forget about his morning run?"
Reena sighs and leans in, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Ever since he came back here, he'd go for a run at 5:30 every morning. Rain or shine. He still does, or tries to, but he's gotten himself lost more than once. I've started sleeping out here on the couch to intercept him."
I look down at the old, upholstered sofa. It doesn't look comfortable. And Reena, well, she looks tired.
"Get some sleep. In your own bed." Her mouth drops open, and I reach for her hand, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be here at five. He can't get lost if I'm with him."
"You don't have to do that."
"I know. But I'm going to do it anyway." She looks like she wants to argue so I place a finger against her lips, relishing the feel. It makes me want to kiss her all over again. "Now, get some sleep."
I don't give her a chance to say anything. Just force myself to stop touching her, turn around and walk out the door, leaving her alone for the night.
8
REENA
I sip on my hot coffee, my laptop open on the counter, trying to focus on the work I should be doing. Try, without success. Because I'm watching my phone for an update and scanning the front yard for any sign of the two men who left two and a half hours ago. For a run.
Anxiety makes my stomach clench. Setting down the mug, I reach for my keys, resolved to get in my car and go looking for them.
My phone goes off, the notification loud in the quiet of the empty house, and I snatch at it. I tap the message, my chest going tight at the sight of Porter's name.
When I open the attached photo, though, my worry is forgotten. Porter and my uncle are sitting opposite each other at a booth in the diner, in their sweaty shirts, smiling and eating pancakes together.
Seeing them together, proof that Uncle Cliff is all right, is such a relief, I sink down onto the couch. A laugh bubbles out of me, and a weight slips off. For the first time in too long, I feel like I can take a deep breath.
My gaze lands on the framed photo on the bookshelf. In it, my mom stands beside Uncle Cliff, laughing at something he said, and I can actually smile at the sight. There's still grief that she's not here, still sadness that the man in the picture confuses me with his sister half the time, but it's tempered by the knowledge that for now, I don't have to shoulder the duty alone. Porter's help allowed me to get a good night's sleep because I wasn't worried Cliff would wake up and wander off.
Common sense warns me that I'm trusting this mountain man too quickly. That I shouldn't forget that this is all part of the fake relationship we agreed to. But the way he showed up last night, the promise he delivered on this morning, his willingness to play this role so completely has gratitude welling up inside me.
And honestly, that kiss. I can't stop replaying it over and over in my mind. The feel of his lips against mine, the first brush of teasing contact that quickly transformed into him taking control, devouring my mouth like he never wanted to stop. Even now, hours later, I can still feel his touch, can still smell the lingering scent of his cologne somehow.
My phone alerts again, pulling me back to reality, and I smile when I see another picture of my uncle pop up. He's grinning at the camera, holding up a giant cinnamon roll with gooey icing dripping from it.
I type out a reply, then set my phone back down. It's time for me to get some work done while I can. Thanks to the mountain man I never expected to need.
