Page 70 of Will to Run

“How about this? Take some photos of what you’ve painted and show them to me the next time you come in. Then we can talk. You said you were on a mission to get your groove back. Let’s bring it back with a cherry on top.”

“You are the sweetest,” I reply, still stunned at her offer because she hasn’t seen anything of mine. Was I ready to undertake something like a gallery show? No way. Besides, I have, like, a month left, and how many paintings could I possibly get done by then? Not enough. “I can’t produce a gallery worth in that timeframe.”

“And you’re leaving for sure?” she asks.

The question catches me off guard because I haven’t given actual thought to it. Sure, it’s flitted through my mind, especially because I don’t have a plan or motivation to make a plan, but that’s a pretty big question.

“I… I haven’t thought too hard about it. I’m just kind of going day-to-day right now.”

She smiles a knowing smile that all but confirms my mind has officially been read. “Well, keep painting. I have a suspicion you won’t be leaving as soon as you anticipate.”

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head and look around.

“A gut feeling, I guess,” she shrugs. “Anyway, what do you need today, dear?”

The way she talks is almost a little unnerving. She’s speaking as if she truly knows something I don’t. It wouldn’t completely shock me if she has some crystal, hippie, tarot-card space in the back. I make a note to ask Jaxon about her later, but I get what I need and end up back at my cabin, ready to tackle more paintings. Not that I am entertaining actually doing an art show… I’m not. But I’ve had so much fun that I’m just going to keep going full steam ahead. Heart of Will has no shortage of inspiration, from the way the sky turns every color in the rainbow to the greenery coming up after a long winter. Inspiration is everywhere I turn.

At six on the dot, Jaxon knocks on my door for the family dinner, but I’m running behind because I got so caught up in the painting. A scene from last night’s campfire was on the forefront of my brain, so I started. But one detail turned to another and I jumped in the shower late.

With a towel wrapped around my body and another around my head, I whip open the front door. His eyes open wide when he sees me, and both of us freeze for a second.

“I’m running late,” I say hysterically. “I’m so sorry. You can go without me, and I’ll meet you there!” I don’t invite him in; I just run back to my room and leave him standing in my doorway. Rather than being put off by my spastic nature, he chases me, literally chases me up the stairs and into the bedroom, before playfully tackling me on the bed.

“Are you kidding me?” he says. “I know what’s under that towel, and I regret to tell you dinner is off. Well, not off… You are for dinner.”

I laugh and hit his chest. “Get off. Do you know what a bad look it is if we show up late to your parents’ important thing?”

“Do you know how good you look right now?” And with that, he tips my chin up and kisses me. It’s like I short-circuit because all the noise about punctuality quiets down when he pulls back and looks at me. I groan, because I really do have to get up. My hair is still wet, for God’s sake. But having him this close triggers a muscle memory my body responds to in a way equivalent to breathing.

“How are you feeling, Del?” he asks.

“Stressed because I hate being late!” I say.

“No, how’s your body feeling after last night?”

“If you’re asking if you broke me, I can enthusiastically say you did not, and I’m looking forward to round two tonight. But only if we successfully get to your parents on time. If we’re late, you’re not getting any.”

“Not getting any?” he smirks as his hand makes its way under the too-small towel I have on. My legs spread slightly because I can’t say no to this man. “What am I going to find if I touch you, Del? Someone who wants to go to dinner, or someone wet thinking about being fucked again.”

A noise escapes my lips, and I spread my legs wider. He’ll find the latter.

“I can’t get enough of you, Tatroe,” he says into my ear before his hand traces up and reaches the apex of my thigh. He kisses me as he circles my entrance, pushing two fingers in to prove his point.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” he groans into my mouth, “I thought that might be the case.”

He pumps his fingers in and out, but uses a motion to coax maximum pleasure out of me, and it doesn’t take long before my towel has fallen off, and I’m writhing next to his body with choppy breath. What a sight it must be; me fully nude, with him next to me, dressed in gray chinos, a button down, and the hat I’ve claimed lying right beside my body. It feels scandalous, and hot as hell. He couldn’t wait until after dinner, and while I said I would be upset if we were late, I find I no longer care much.

When he brings his head down to sweep his tongue over my nipple, the orgasm rips through my body, and it surprises me how powerful it is. After catching my breath, I reach for his belt, but he puts his hands over mine to stop me.

“We gotta go, baby. But you'd better be ready to finish this after dinner,” he smirks again. “I believe I was told that if we were late, I wouldn’t get any.”

My mouth drops open, and I’m speechless.

“Chop chop,” he laughs, standing up, and putting his hat back on his head.

I follow suit, not even trying to put the towel back on, and he smacks my ass as I walk away.

“Jaxon, you are unbelievable,” I say, looking over my shoulder.