by Hazel Parker
Chapter 4
The storm raged outside and, despite the madness, inside Alissa and Trevor fell into a contented routine. He made her breakfast and she sat, feeling useless and helpless. She would have offered to wash the dishes, but she wasn’t willing to show just how much she didn’t actually know.
She’d never had to wash dishes before. Did she put the water in first? Or did the dish detergent go in first? How would she know if it was the right amount? And what would she do when her fingers became pruney? She didn’t want to ask Trevor all those questions so she stayed seated on the couch—being served, as she had been most of her life, by a man who would never fit into her life.
Trevor didn’t complain though, and, despite his warnings to the contrary, he was an excellent cook. It wasn’t caviar or fine dining, but so far, she couldn’t complain about what had been on the menu. Burgers and fries, chicken and mashed potatoes, beanies and weenies, which were really just hot dogs cut into a pan of beans. She was looking forward to what he would cook today.
“You know anything about grilled cheese?
“What?” she asked, looking up from her book.
The old Alissa, old being before the fall, would have never picked up a book. She hadn’t had time to read. Her daily schedule had consisted of activities that everyone else wanted her to do, and by the end of the day, she was dogged-tired doing nothing that she wanted to do. She’d go to sleep and repeat the entire thing the next day.
Alissa, before the fall, had been a prisoner, ball-and-chained. Chained to the whims of every man in her life. Chained to her parents’ demands, her friends’ expectations and the responsibility of Lenard’s love. It had been a boring and unfulfilling life.
Alissa, after the fall, had time to read and she found she enjoyed it more than she thought she would. Trevor had recommended the book he was reading, called Gringo Nightmare. It was about a man who had been accused of killing his Nicaraguan girlfriend and had been imprisoned for a year before he had been released. She hadn’t gotten to the end of it yet, but she was excited to, not so she could say she’d finished a book, but so she could talk to Trevor about it. He’d found a way to excite her.
“Have you ever cooked grilled cheese before?”
“No.”
She had never cooked anything. That was what chefs and nannies were for, but she wouldn’t be telling him that.
“Would you like to learn?”
She really did want to.
“Yeah,” she said, dog-earing her page before setting the book down.
Chuck looked at her with puppy dog eyes, begging her to stay with him on the couch. He was a cuddler, but she wanted to be with Trevor more.
“I’ll be right back,” she told him, rubbing his head before approaching the kitchen.
“So it’s really simple.”
She doubted that.
He dropped a slice of butter unceremoniously into the pan. It immediately sizzled, sliding into the middle before disintegrating to yellow bubbles.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We add bread,” he said, pointing to the loaf.
She didn’t move and the corners of his mouth lifted.
“The butter is going to burn.”
He was obviously amused as she rushed to grab a slice of bread. She held it over to him, but he looked at the pan, making it clear what she had to do. She sat it in the pan carefully as one would place a baby in its crib then she looked back at Trevor for immediate feedback.
“Now cheese,” he said, looking at the slices beside the bread.
She unpacked them, throwing the plastic on the counter.
“Hurry.”
She placed it with as much concentration as she’d placed the bread, making sure the corners were aligned before grabbing a piece of bread without Trevor’s prompting.
“Go ahead,” he encouraged, still unmoving from his lean against the counter.
Once the bread pieces were aligned, he handed her a spatula. Her eyes widened as she held the foreign object.
“I’d rather just watch you,” she said, handing it back.
He chuckled low in his throat as he positioned himself behind her.
“Or I could watch you,” he said into her ear.
Alissa was very aware of the warmth of his body, and she wanted to hate the way her body craved to pull him closer, but she couldn’t. She wanted to feel his body on hers. She just wanted to keep feeling the way she felt when he was around.
His hand electrified her nerve endings as his palm enveloped her small fingers.
“The trick,” he said, his breath tickling the skin of her neck, “is to lower the temperature...”
He turned the fire down with his left hand.
“…when you flip the bread.”
Then together they slid the spatula under the sandwich and flipped it perfectly, revealing a golden underbelly.
How did he do that?
He stepped back and she was panting like she had been running a marathon. She had no idea what he was doing to her, but whatever it was, she didn’t want it to stop. She wanted to see it through, which was wrong. Or was it? It felt right.
Trevor let her step back and took over, making three more sandwiches in quick succession, much faster than the one they’d made together. He was nothing like any guy she’d ever dated in the past.
Those men were either only interested in her money or already had money of their own and didn’t really care about her. They only cared about increasing their net worth. They spoke about their future in terms of quarterly increases, and not life goals, a lot like how rich men are portrayed in the movies. Which, for Alissa, was normal.
Her parents were wealthy, and she had assumed she would end up in a marriage like theirs—together but never really happy. Her mother used to say, “Why marry happy when you can marry rich?” For a time, she had believed that, but something had nagged at her every time she’d imagined her name as Pennington instead of Fontanne. That nagging thing in the back of her mind had only grown stronger the closer it got to her wedding day. Then she’d found herself calling off her engagement before running into the woods. She hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone because everyone she knew would only try to convince her that she was making a mistake. Some would say she’d made an even bigger mistake given how she’d gotten lost and was now being taken care of by a mountain man who couldn’t be more different from her.
But she couldn’t see it that way. Sure, she and Trevor were very different. That much was clear from the fact that she didn’t know how to do the most basic of chores. She hadn’t washed dishes, done laundry or cooked before in her life. And honestly it’s sad she doesn’t know these things. Trevor made her want to try. She liked their differences.
She was also drawn to his masculinity. His muscles. His gentlemanly manners. His kindness and how mysterious he was without trying. She was drawn to the way he held back and wouldn’t let her in too much. His holding back made her want to be closer. She’d caught glimpses of the man he was through their conversations, and she liked what she saw. He lived simply, without gaudy things that were bought solely for their perceived value. Even though he had the bare necessities, he appeared to be living comfortably and wasn’t being an arrogant dick about it. Which was not common where she came from.
She wondered how he’d come to be out here and if he would trust her enough to tell her.
“Can you carry these to the table or do I have to carry the plates and you too?”
He smiled widely and she caught a small dimple on his chin.
She blushed, feeling the heat on her cheeks as she envisioned him carrying her while she carried the plates. It was insane just how riled up she was getting, and she shook her head no quickly before grabbing the plates. He followed with two glasses of milk.
“You’re not lactose intolerant, are you?”
She giggled. “Well, it would be too late to ask if I was, wouldn’t it?”
She held up the cheese slice s
he’d pulled apart from the gooey bread.
He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”
She bit into it and her head fell back as she moaned.
The room was too still, and she realized what she sounded like. Her cheeks were on fire as she opened her eyes to see Trevor staring at her, his eyes blazing and his lips pressed into a thin line. He sat his slice of sandwich down on the plate and walked to the backroom. She heard the bathroom door shut and she sighed heavily.
So it wasn’t just her then. She hadn’t meant to be so sexual. But, goddamn, that grilled cheese was good. She ate in silence, waiting for him to return. He was gone just long enough for her to know he hadn’t taken a piss.
When he returned, she found she couldn’t look him in the eye and he couldn’t hold her gaze either. She stood and grabbed their empty dishes to carry them to the sink. Sure, she didn’t wash them, but she wanted to help.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said without turning around. She could hear him moving behind her. “I really enjoyed it.”
“Yeah. I could tell,” he growled.
She shivered from the rough sound of his voice, and she walked over to look out the back window to get her mind off of him. “I think the road is gone.”
She wasn’t sure since she had been unconscious when he’d carried her in, but the road she assumed he usually drove out of was covered with mud and rocks. He lived in the mountains though; were landslides typical out here? She felt his presence behind her just before his shadow darkened the window.
“It is. It should be right there,” he said, pointing. “We’ll have to wait and see how things look tomorrow.”
“Is the cabin safe from a landslide?” She had never seen anything like this before. Where she lived, the streets were paved and the neighbors lived behind concrete barriers.
“The cabin was purposely built away from the loose side of the mountain, so you don’t have to worry.”
She assumed that meant he was confident they wouldn’t be buried under soil and rock during the night. The cabin didn’t seem that old; maybe that’s why he was sure. She wondered who’d built it. Based on his broad shoulders and thick mass, he seemed more than capable. “Did you build this cabin?”
“No,” he said, stepping away from her. “I bought it when I moved up here.”
“Why did you move?” she said, watching him as he stood beside the kitchen table.
His expression turned grave, his mouth compressing into a thin line. It was clear he had no intentions of answering her. She was about to say she didn’t mean to pry when Chuck bounded towards him and whined loudly, interrupting the conversation altogether.
“Okay, boy. Dinner’s coming.”
He poured the dog kernels into Chuck’s bowl and stroked the dog’s fur a few times before heading for his room. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”
His eyes had been averted the whole time, but she didn’t miss the look of relief on his face like he’d just dodged an inquisition.
Okay. She got it. His reason for living out here seemed to be off-limits. She couldn’t deny that she was curious about that but knew she couldn’t push. The man had already done her a favor by letting her stay and feeding her. She didn’t need to make him mad or uncomfortable. Plus, she would be leaving when the storm let up and would probably never seem him again, so his past didn’t matter. She’d just focus on the present while she enjoyed his company.
Chapter 5
The storm had yet to let up. If anything, it raged harder. It wasn’t hailing anymore. Instead, the rain fell in buckets, so loud against the wood that Alissa had to yell to be heard. The electricity flickered once before cutting out. Her squeal of terror was lost in her throat.
“Alissa?”
The paralyzing roar of the unrelenting rain made his voice impossible to place in the house.
“I’m over here!”
Hands grabbed her shoulders and she almost screamed.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she said, relaxing and doing her best not to appear like such a coward.
For a second, she caught the outline of his face in the flash of lightning and once again this man, who was still very much a stranger, made her feel utterly safe. Lenard had been her fiancé for almost a year and she couldn’t recall him ever making her feel this way.
“I have to check on the generator.”
“What?” She couldn’t imagine he was actually thinking about going outside in that rain. “Where is it?”
“Outside. Right side of the cabin”
His hands were still on her shoulders, but she barely noticed, her mind still on what he proposed. “You can’t. You can’t go out there. Are you crazy?”
“I have no choice. Without the generator, we have nothing. No running water. He pulled away. “It’s just a storm. Don’t worry. It’ll only take a minute or two. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe she was the crazy one, because she already missed his body heat. She stood, unsure what to do, while he donned rain boots and a coat that wouldn’t protect him from anything. Then, biting back the urge to beg him not to go, she watched him step out the door.
Not knowing where he was unnerved her. She waited, unable to move while her mind created images of Trevor in the middle of the mind-numbing static of the rain. It took everything in her, but she expelled the awful images and focused on what Trevor needed to do: fix the generator and grab wood.
She inched her way against the wall to find the couch and clutched Chuck close to her chest. A crack of lightning struck so close that she feared she was a goner. Her heart hammered against her chest and it didn’t help that she could barely see her hand in front of her face. She couldn’t even hear herself breathing and she could feel the panic creeping inside her.
What would she do if he got hurt while he was out? Would she be able to get him? How would she know when it was safe to go outside? How would she get him help? There was no way to call. She had no one to call. Did he even have any family?
She was about to lose it just as the light flickered back on. He was successful in fixing the generator, but what if he didn’t come back? She grew light-headed waiting and forced herself to take a deep breath because clearly her anxiety was taking over.
Then the door flew open with more force than it would if he had pushed the door by hand. He came in with a bunch of logs held against his torso and he dropped them on the floor before closing the door behind him. His clothes were soaked through. He shed his jacket before moving the logs to the corner to dry, his shirt clinging to well-defined muscles.
Alissa found her heart racing even more, watching him check that things were right. Trevor was all man, a real man who took care of his business and her.
His movements were precise, confident, highlighting the rippling muscles of his back and the flexing of his biceps. He was sexy and acted like he was unaware. His features were chiseled, definitely unlike the boys-next-door she usually went for, but handsome nonetheless.
“What’s that?” she said, rushing to him to take a closer look at his face.
Across his cheek was a long, inflamed scratch.
“It’s nothing. I got snagged by a branch when I was outside.”
Trevor was just the type who would brush off an injury so she leaned more closely, checking that it was not deep or looked like it could get infected.
“Seriously, Ally. It doesn’t even hurt. It’s no biggie.”
He was such a man. Of course he’d say that, but she wanted to be sure.
“Come here,” she said, turning his head towards the light so she could get a better look.
Now that her brain confirmed what he’d said, her body seemed to have other concerns. She got a whiff of his scent, of skin and soap and a woodsy undertone, and her breath hitched. Every cell in her body became hyperaware of him. It didn’t help that he was half-naked, the raw maleness of him stirring a sudden need to touch and be touched. She was as close to his face as she needed to be to kiss him. S
he was so close she could see the hairs of his five o’clock shadow. She could hear his breathing turning heavier by the second, and she knew he could feel it too.
Is this what she wanted?
She shouldn’t. She was running from life, and this wouldn’t help. But, damn it, she wanted to. This fine man was inches away and she wanted to be under him.
Their eyes locked. His hands found her shoulders and, for one scary second, she thought he was going to push her away. When he didn’t, she rose on her tiptoes, wrapped her hands into his wet strands and pulled his head down towards hers. The moment their lips touched, she swore the earth shook, and the need to kiss him was so strong that she hadn’t considered the idea that he might still reject her. There was no need to worry though, because after a beat, he pulled her into his wet chest and dove deeper into her mouth, making her moan.
They were a tangled frenzy of limbs, trying to get closer and under each other’s skin. He pulled away to peel his shirt over his head before it plopped to the tile floor. She matched him, discarding her t-shirt and standing only in her underwear. He grabbed her, taking her mouth like a starved man and drawing her back with him towards the living room, she assumed, until they knocked over a chair. They stopped moving when it crashed to the floor, but neither of them bothered to set it upright.
It seemed they ended up in the open kitchen instead. It didn’t matter, though. They were too far gone. It was too much, this building pressure between them, and Alissa was about to explode. She could barely think, what with the rock hard mammoth of a cock grinding against her swollen lips. Her hands palmed his chest and she was thankful the material between them was gone. He was so hard everywhere, from his broad shoulders to his arms to his washboard abs to the hardened length that she wanted so badly to fuck.
“Please, Trev. Take it off,” she begged as she tugged on his waistband, wanting him to be completely naked.
He took one step backward, pushed his pants down his powerful thighs, and kicked them away.
Good lord. Trevor Harrington was a god. She watched him, memorizing the perfection that was his body until he spoke.