by Anne Jolin
“Oh my God. It’s beautiful!” I squeal. Yes, that’s a thing I do now too. Squealing and giggling. I don’t even try to stop it anymore.
“This is it. There’s no TV, no cell service, and no people for at least a few miles. It’s ours until Monday,” he says.
Two full days of nothing but uninterrupted time sounds pretty damn good to me. “Who does it belong to I ask?” I know it’s none of my friends' places or I would have heard of it before.
“It belongs to a friend of mine from work. He had someone come by and stock it for us yesterday, so it should be good to go.”
We climb out of the truck, and Greyson carries our bags inside. It’s old and cozy inside but well maintained. Plaid curtains cover the windows and an old cast-iron fireplace sits in the corner surrounded by a couch and two massive armchairs. Hardly anything matches, but that only adds to the feel. I love it instantly. He couldn’t have picked a better choice for our Easter weekend together.
He puts our bags in the only bedroom and we walk through the small cabin hand in hand. It doesn’t take long at all to see everything inside. It only consists of a mudroom that doubles as a bathroom, a small kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room. The front porch is by far the largest area of the house.
“Do you want to go check out what’s outside?” he asks and I nod my head.
We take the stairs off the porch that wrap around underneath and come out onto a path leading to the water. The lake would still be too cold to swim in, but it would be the perfect time of year for fishing. It was late afternoon now, and the wind was starting to come up between the mountains. I shivered and Greyson quickly folded himself around me from behind, tucking me into the warmth of his coat. It was peaceful here, and I felt instantly relaxed as we stood on the dock, looking out at the lake.
He kisses my cheek, his stubble tickling my face, and I can feel his lips move on my ear as he speaks. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect. I love it. Thank you for doing this, Greyson,” I whisper back, leaning my head into his.
“Only for you, sweetheart,” he says, pulling me closer into his chest, the smell of him enveloping me even in the wind.
We stand on the dock for a while until our stomachs start to rumble and we decide that it’s time for dinner. Once we are back inside, I change into a pair of pajama pants and a tank top while Greyson cooks us burgers on the barbecue. I make a salad to go with the meal and we eat dinner at the small table in the kitchen. After cleaning up and putting away the few things we brought with us, we decide to go out on the porch to watch the sunset.
He needs to find something in his bag, so I go out to the porch alone. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the railing, and look out onto the water. I hear the door close and feel him come up behind me. Grabbing me by the hair, he pulls my head back.
“I’ve been wanting to fuck that tight hole since you swallowed my load in the car, Hannah,” he says, pressing his cock into my ass.
It feels like there is hardly any barrier between us, and I look over my shoulder to see him standing almost completely naked except for his T-shirt. He uses his other hand to push my pajamas to the ground and helps me step out of them. I’m left bent at the waist over the porch railing in nothing but a white cotton tank top and black lace panties.
He leans forward, biting my shoulder, and I moan like a whore. I can feel my panties and they are soaked. He takes two fingers and picks up the part of my thong that sits between my ass cheeks. Keeping it pulled away from my skin, he runs his fingers from my tailbone, down to my pussy, and back again.
“I can smell how much you want me,” he growls, and I quiver in anticipation when his fingers stop at the place no one has ever been before. “I’m going to fuck you here tonight,” he says, teasing the opening with his finger. “But first, you’re going to come all over my cock.” Before I can even contemplate what he’s saying, he pushes my panties out of the way and slams into me all the way to the hilt.
“Oh God. Fuck me, Greyson,” I plead, wiggling my ass as him.
His hand comes down hard on my behind and I whimper. I fucking love it when he does that. He grips me by the hips and continues to pound into me at an unforgiving pace. Within minutes, my pussy is clenching down on him and I’m screaming his name out over the lake.
His one hand is rubbing up and down my back as I ride out the aftershocks of my orgasm while his other hand reaches around and pinches my clit. I moan out loud again, and it’s a good thing there aren’t any other people around because I don’t think I’d be capable of being quiet at this point. Still hard, he pulls out of me and I whimper at the loss of him, but before I can beg him to make me come again, he pushes two fingers in and starts to rub them around, coating them in my juices. He drags them out of my pussy and pushes one slippery finger into my ass.
“Fuck!” I yelp but don’t pull away. I’ve never had anyone touch me there, but I don’t want him to stop.
He pushes another finger in, working me so I can take his cock. I’m gripping the railing with white-knuckle force, and I already feel ready to come again. He takes his fingers out slowly and rubs more of my come on his cock before positioning it at the entrance to my tight little hole.
“I’m going to take you now, Hannah. I’ll try and go slow,” he says, easing his cock slowly into my ass. I cry out—partially in pain, but mostly in pleasure. I feel so full but in an entirely different way. “So. Fucking. Tight,” he groans through clenched teeth as he bottoms out inside my ass. He starts to slowly pump in and out of me, one hand wrapping around my hair and yanking my head to the side. “Look at me, sweetheart. Watch me fuck you.” He tugs my hair again.
I look over my shoulder and watch him start to thrust into me. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve seen watching him take me like that. He shoves two fingers inside me again and starts to fuck me in both my holes.
“Play with your clit, Hannah. I want you to come for me.”
I do as he asks, reaching down to rub my clit. It doesn’t take long before I crash into my second orgasm, and I think it’s the strongest one I’ve ever had, even with Greyson. Moments later, I hear him growl out my name as he fills me up with his seed.
He collapses on my back and my legs quiver as I try to keep them from giving out. We stand like this for a minute or two until we’ve both caught our breath. When he pulls out of me, I can feel his come dripping out of my hole. He leads me inside to the bathroom and cleans me up with a washcloth. I barely remember it because I feel like I’m already passing out. He takes me to our room and climbs under the overs, pulling me against his chest.
“I love you Hannah,” he whispers into my ear.
I can’t remember if I say it back or if sleep pulls me under too soon.
WE SLEPT LATE on Sunday and it was incredibly refreshing. There weren’t any distractions and there was nowhere we needed to go. It was raining out, so we spent most of the day lazing around the house. I read my book and he strummed his guitar. I’d seen him do that a lot, but he’d never really played in front of me.
Now, I am curled up in the armchair, my feet tucked underneath me, just watching him. He sits across from me on the couch, nothing but his low-hanging pajama pants on and the acoustic guitar lying across his lap. His hair is elegantly disheveled and the muscles in his arm move as his fingers pluck at the strings.
“Will you play something for me?” I ask.
He looks at me from under his thick lashes and smiles nervously as he starts strumming. It only takes me a few seconds to realize what he is playing, and when I do, I can’t help the splitting grin that takes over my face. He is playing our song. He isn’t looking at me; he is watching his hands dance over the neck of the guitar, and I am caught off guard when he starts to sing. His voice is hauntingly beautiful, just like the original as he softly sings the words.
Well I've been down to Georgia
I've seen the streets in the West
I've driven down the 90. Hell, I've seen
America's best
I've been through the Rockies, I've seen Saskatoon
I've driven down the highway 1 just hopin' that I'd see you soon
‘Cause I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home
I've never been to Alaska, but I can tell you this,
I've been to Lincoln, Nebraska and hell you know it ain't worth shit
I've been through Nova Scotia, Sydney to Halifax
I'll never take any pictures ‘cause I know I'll just be right back
‘Cause I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home
I've seen a palace in London, I've seen a castle in Wales
but I'd rather wake up beside you and breathe that ol' familiar smell
I never thought you could leave me, I figured I was the one
but I understand your sadness so I guess I should just hold my tongue
But I'm comin' home, I'm comin' home
I know that we're takin' chances, you told me life was a risk
but I just have one last question...
will it be my heart or will it be his?
I'm comin' home
His eyes meet mine as the last word leaves his mouth and I am certain that my heart has melted into a puddle on the cabin floor. I put my book down on the side table and go to sit on the couch behind him. Wrapping my arms around to his front, I lay my head on his back.
“You have a beautiful voice, Greyson. Thank you for sharing that part of yourself with me,” I say and kiss him softly between his shoulder blades. My Hunnam is constantly surprising me.
“Only for you, sweetheart,” he says, resting his hand on top of mine on his stomach.
“Will you play another?”
“As you wish,” he teases and moves his hand back to start playing the guitar.
He’s taken to quoting me lines from movies after he noticed me doing it, and it is adorable as heck. Especially this time because he chose to quote The Princess Bride and I’m almost positive that every girl in the world has dreamed about Wesley telling her the famous words, but I was happier that they were coming from my man. I’ve known it for a while now, but in this moment, I am completely certain. No matter what happens between us, I’ll never love another man the way I love Greyson Holt.
He plays me a few more songs before the rain stops. I pack sandwiches, water bottles, and some leftover salad in the backpack and bring it with us to hike around the lake. I say a little blessing for Jami and his constant need to torture me with running every goddamn weekend, because if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with Greyson. He is athletic and fit, lean muscle on every inch of his body. It is almost distracting walking behind him and watching his muscles move underneath his shirt as he exerts himself.
We hike our way to the tip of the lake, which I learned was called Timothy Lake, and stop to eat our little picnic. It is gorgeous here, and I love it. We only drove a few hours from home, so the landscape is very much the same—mountains and lakes as far as the eye can see.
We spend the rest of the afternoon exploring, and after dinner, we take the little aluminum boat out onto the lake to go fishing. It is the perfect night to be out in the boat. The water is so calm that it looks like glass, and the rain has been holding off despite the looming clouds above. Greyson’s large frame looks even bigger in the tiny boat. It really is so small that, if one of us moves too quickly, it is likely the entire thing would tip over.
I am wearing yoga pants and his large zip-up hoodie to keep warm. We’ve been out here for almost an hour without as much as a bite. That’s why they calling it fishing, not catching, Hannah, I can hear my dad’s voice ringing in my head. We are quiet for most of the time, but it is an easy silence and neither of us feels like we need to talk just for the sake of talking. That and talking would scare away the fish. At least that’s what our dad used to tell us when we went fishing as kids, but that could have been a lie just to keep us quiet. I smile at the memory.
“What has you smiling, sweetheart?” he asks.
“I was just remembering how much fun we used to have as kids out fishing on the lake,” I respond.
“Have you ever been fishing with anyone other than your family?” That seems like a bit of an odd question, but I answer it anyway.
“Jackson took me once.” I can see him clench his teeth at the mention of my ex. They are acquaintances in some capacity, but being that I only saw Greyson once during the entire span of my relationship with Jackson, I have concluded that they aren’t close enough for us to need to discuss it.
“Did you have fun when he took you?” He’s staring at me, heat building behind his eyes.
“We caught lots of fish if that’s what you’re asking,” I say, searching his face to try and figure out where he is going with this. “So yes, I guess I had fun.”
His nostrils flare at my words and a look of determination settles behind his pale-blue eyes.
We are sitting on the two small benches of the boat facing each other. The boat is so small that our knees are almost touching. He puts his rod down and reaches over the side of the boat, dipping his hands into the cool water, washing them.
“Scoot to the edge of your seat, Hannah,” he demands.
Maybe he needs to re-bait my rod, I think to myself. I know how, but he seems to like doing it for me, so I let him. I do as he asks and reach my rod out towards him. He takes it, but instead of reeling in the line, he lays it down the inside of the boat with his rod.
“What are you doing?” I ask him, cocking one of my eyebrows.
“Scoot all the way to the edge, sweetheart, but do it slowly or you’ll rock the boat.”
Now that I’m this close to him, I can see his eyes darkening with lust. I scoot as close to the edge as I can, putting my hands behind me to steady myself.
He leans forward and slips a hand under the waist band of my yoga pants. I shudder. His hands are freezing cold from being in the water and it offsets the heat pooling between my thighs as he starts to tease my clit.
“Did he do this to you? Did he touch you here when you went out on that boat?” he growls. I shake my head and he gives me a cocky grin. “Good.”
He pushes two of his cold, thick fingers into my wet heat and starts pumping them slowly in and out. I’m not sure if he’s going so slowly to punish me or if it’s because he doesn’t want us to tip the boat over, but it’s driving me insane. He takes his other hand and uses it to unzip the hoodie I have on. He pinches my nipple through the thin material of my tank top. I’m not wearing a real bra, only the built-it one on my shirt. We haven’t seen any people in our entire time here, and I hate wearing bras. He takes advantage of my state and pulls the front down to expose my needy breasts. My nipples are hard from both the pleasure he is giving me and the cold air licking across my skin. He pinches and rolls one nipple in his hand and I cry out, the sound echoing across the water.
“I wish it were my cock in you, Hannah,” he says, fucking me harder with his fingers. “I wish I could lick the come that’s dripping out of your pussy right now.” He looks pained, but he knows that would tip over the boat if we moved any harder than this. He moves over to show the same attention to my other nipple as he uses his thumb to press down on my clit.
“Oh God. I’m going to come, Greyson!” I gasp, clenching down as I coat his fingers with my release. I’m still sitting there with my hands behind my back, my tits hanging out when he pulls his hand from my legs and sucks his fingers into his mouth.
“You taste so good,” he groans and helps me put myself back together again.
I’m still riding the waves of my orgasm as he starts the motor and begins taking us back towards the cabin. We reach the dock just as the rain starts to fall. I’m snapped out of my haze and immediately start trying to help him get the boat tied off. By the time we are going back for the last load from the boat, we are completely soaked. I bend down to grab the last of the life jackets when he stops me and turns me to face him.
I wrap my arms around his nec
k and smile. “That was the best fishing trip I’ve ever had,” I say and wink, considering we didn’t catch a single one.
He lifts me up off the dock, pressing our soaking wet bodies together and kisses me softly. “That was the point, sweetheart.” He chuckles.
We spend the rest of our last night naked, in front of the wood-burning fire, and I curse the thought of having to go back to real life tomorrow. I like our peaceful cabin on the lake, and I don’t want to leave. This Easter has been the best one yet. I hope there are many more to come like this one.
IT IS ALREADY the middle of June. Greyson and I have been together for a little over six months. Well, a little over six months as long as you don’t count our one-week hiatus. We’ve had a few more dinners with my parents in the weeks since our trip to the cabin, and he seems to be becoming more comfortable with the idea of allowing me into his heart. I know he loves me, but there are times when I can see his struggle, and in those times, I feel for him deeply.
It is the Saturday of Jami’s twenty-seventh birthday and we are all going to Buffalo Bill’s to celebrate. Lennon, Beth, and I have made a girls’ day out of it—going for a late lunch, getting our nails painted, and going over to the salon where Lennon works to get our hair done. The women she works with are incredibly nice and fit us into their schedules at the last minute.
I am happy to see Lennon taking some time to relax. She works all the time, and normally, she’d have come home from work to do everyone’s hair before going out. She spoils us that way and we know it. Today, she is sitting in the chair beside me, looking mellowed out as her colleague curls her long, brown hair down her back. Another girl, Peyton, who has come out with us on a few girls nights, is doing the same to my hair. I don’t really like to wear it up unless it is around the house or I am working out, so it is almost always in loose curls down my back.