I’m smiling to myself as I begin to wash my body, luxuriating in the sudsy bubbles that roll down my skin. I look out the window, noticing that it hasn’t fogged up. Maybe Aubrey uses something on the glass? It feels naughty to be so exposed, even if I’m really not. I’m alone in the cabin, the view is of the empty woods, and Aubrey’s cabin is around on the other side, far from the serene view I’m currently enjoying.
That was just what I needed. A little something to take the edge off. Hopefully, next time I see Aubrey, I won’t be so easy to rile up. Maybe we can have that conversation like adults. Or maybe not and I stick with my plan to avoid the past and skip that confrontation. All I know is that I feel boneless and satisfied, and that’s enough for now.
Aubrey
I wasn’t sure I could believe my eyes when Ana opened the curtain to the master bath shower in her cabin. I’m not that far away, and I saw her scan the woods outside the big window. I figured she’d see me out here among the trees, especially since I’m not hiding, just slowly gathering kindling, but maybe not? My moment of confusion ends abruptly when she starts taking her clothes off. I should move, give her the privacy she likely thinks she has, but I’m frozen in place, mesmerized as Ana gets into the shower.
I’m expecting her to just wash the day’s sweat away, but when she dips her head back to get her honey hair wet, she arches her back and her tits rise deliciously. I feel the blood rush to my cock, instantly hardening against the visual onslaught of Ana’s naked form. She’s not the skinny girl I remember, all angles and edges. No, Ana’s soft and curvy now, her body a winding seduction.
My breath quickens as I watch her hands trace along her skin the way I want to, wondering if she’s as silky as I remember, as smooth as she seems now. She touches her breasts, teasing herself, and my jaw drops. Is she . . . oh, fuck, she is.
I groan at the sight of her pleasuring herself, dropping the armful of wood I’d gathered. I palm my cock, thick and hard in my jeans, knowing I’m fighting a losing battle. As Ana’s hand snakes its way down her body to her bare pussy, I follow her movements, running my hand down my abs, feeling them clench as my cock jumps.
As she cups herself, I give in and desperately unbutton my jeans, shoving them and my boxer briefs down to release my cock and balls, which are already heavy with need. Precum drips down my shaft, easing my way as I take myself in hand.
Her movements are hypnotic, her fingers dipping in and out of the pussy I want to claim so desperately, gliding across the clit I want to lick and nibble and taste. I start to pump my cock, using my thumb to smear my precum all over my tender flared head, making it glisten in the afternoon light.
“That’s it, rub that sweet pussy for me. Get it nice and wet for me. I’ll bend you over and bury my tongue in deep before lining this cock up and . . .”
My words are constant, a continuous stream of telling Ana what I want to see even if she can’t hear me. Ironically, as I whisper out loud to the trees, “Spread yourself wide, let me see all of you,” Ana actually does what I said. I slow my hand’s up and down motion, watching raptly as Ana widens her stance, putting a foot up for leverage as she presses her fingers in deeper, fucking herself with her hand.
I match her pace, stroke for stroke, imagining it’s my thick cock filling her tight little pussy, making her mouth drop open in a gasp I can’t hear. I pump my cock in my fist, my balls churning and the tension rolling down the back of my legs to make my toes curl as I imagine her taking me in deep, calling out my name.
I’m nearly there, ready to blow my load when she presses a hand to the glass. Logically, I know she’s just balancing, but it feels like she’s reaching out to me. And that’s enough.
I’m pushed over the edge, and I grunt, a choked cry tearing from my lips as I come hard, spurts splattering on my hand, on my jeans, and even on the tree beside me. My hips buck as I wring every drop of pleasure out of the orgasm, my muffled sounds stirring a flock of birds into fleeing the suppressed roar of a nearby predator.
My eyes stay locked on Ana the whole time, and though I just came violently, when I see her lost in her orgasm, my cock hardens a little again. I watch her head thrash back and forth for a moment before she lifts her face to the window, looking into the depths of the trees.
I swear she’s looking right at me, but surely not. Ana, my Sweet Ana, wouldn’t tease me like that . . . would she? Hell, I don’t actually know anymore. Who is she now? Who am I? Because I’m damn sure not some perv who watches the woman he wants without her knowing, and I’ve lived in these woods for years and have never once jacked off in the trees. But she’s doing something to me . . . making me crazy, making me think, making me feel.
And though I should run like hellfire from that, I know I should. The fact that it’s Ana triggering these thoughts makes me wish for things that could’ve been . . . if only I’d stayed.
Chapter 9
Aubrey
This has got to stop.
It’s been two days since Brad and Trey left, and other than little waves as she’s left on her daily nature walks or from her window, she’s totally avoided me since our lunch.
It’s gotten so bad, I’ve spent nearly as much time fantasizing and jacking off as I have eating.
Even if Ana didn’t know I was watching her shower show, she has to know what the flirting at lunch did to me, her heated gaze on my cock turning me on so hard and making me want her so badly. I wonder if she knows that she licked her lips, leaving no doubt what she was thinking about.
Ever since, my fantasies have been about that tongue on my cock, my hands replacing hers as I trace her curves the way she did in the shower. My mouth waters to taste her pussy, and I mentally see a looped image of my cock sliding in and out of her, covered in her sweet-girl cum.
I’m going crazy, but I saw her face. She’s just as heated up as I am.
I thought she might come to me, or that maybe a little time would do us both some good. But I can see that I was wrong. We’ve had time, too much of it . . . ten years’ worth. I’m going to have to hunt her, chase her.
I grunt at the thought. Big, bad wild man chasing after the skittish, sweet good girl. There’s a twisted part of me that likes the idea of dirtying up my Sweet Ana. But a thorn twists in my gut that she didn’t used to be so gun-shy. I did that to her, made her afraid to trust. I hate myself for it, but I was just a kid myself and didn’t know what to do, how to handle things. I thought she’d be okay, I really did, even if knew I would never find someone like her again.
I don’t know that she’ll talk to me, hear me out. But I do know that she wants me, maybe as much as I want her. And I’m not too good to use her desire against her, use my body to draw her closer, take what we both want. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll listen to me if I make her boneless with satisfaction, her legs too jellied to run away. Maybe then, she’ll listen. Maybe then, she’ll forgive me.
But it’s been rough getting around with my bruised ankle. I’ve made do, getting chores done slower than usual but done nonetheless. But it’s time to tempt her, tease her, get her to come to me. The best hunters know you have to attract the prey, get it on your turf, on your terms. Yeah, I’m giving chase, but I’m not gonna run after her. In fact, she’s gonna run right into my arms, but I’ll be there to catch her this time.
Adjusting the tank top I’m wearing today, I head outside. I’ve still got plenty of work to do. I’ve got nearly three whole trees’ worth of logs that need to be turned into firewood, and the work will help with my plan.
Walking outside slowly, limping a bit more than I really need to, I get my axe and start picking out logs to split. Rex is with me, lazing in the sun once he realizes what I’m doing. With each step, I play up my ankle a little, ready for Ana to come storming out of the cabin to tell me how much of a fool I am. I can see the curtains flutter. She’s probably watching, and I know it irritates her so much as I work.
With every chop of my axe, I expect her to come out, and with ea
ch split log that falls to the ground to be tossed across the yard to join my slowly growing pile, I find my irritation growing instead. My ankle starts to throb, and soon enough, my limp is real and it hurts to do my work.
I don’t stop and just keep setting up logs, swinging my axe, and making the pieces fly. Sweat starts to trickle down my chest, and I keep going, not letting Ana win this one. She’s got to come out, dammit.
But why like this? You damn fool, my inner voice says. Maybe you should just make this easier and go knock on her door.
Maybe . . . but this is my way. Besides, getting work done at the same time. Two birds, one stone. I lift my axe and bring it whistling down again, another two chunks going flying. My ankle is in agony as I lurch over to the pieces and pick them up. My left side has a severe stitch, the muscles threatening to cramp as I bend over, and I know why. I’ve been trying to balance on my left side almost this entire time, and my muscles are doing double-duty.
I grunt as I gingerly toss the lengths into the pile, feeling like an idiot. It was stupid to think that using the same trick twice would work. Maybe I’ve underestimated her. Maybe she can hold out longer than I can. Maybe she’s not as crazy for me as I am for her.
I’m so distracted by the pain that I don’t see the log in front of me until it’s too late, and I fall, gasping in pain as my ribs hit the ground. I plant my hand on the ground and try to get to my knees, but my right foot digs into the ground and I collapse back down. Even over Rex’s concerned barks, I hear her mumbled, “Dumbass.”
Hissing with pain, I turn over, somewhat surprised when I see a shadow over me. A petite, sexy shadow that looks pissed off. “I said to stay off your damn ankle. Why the hell won’t you listen?”
“What can I say? I’m hard-headed,” I say, grinning. I’ll never admit it, but having Ana here makes relief wash over me. I really thought she wasn’t going to come out. I don’t let it show as I give her my best boyish grin. “I’m doing just fine. Was just taking a little break.”
Ana snorts. “Sure, you are. You look like you’re getting ready for a dirt nap. Now lie back.”
Ana kneels down, examining my ankle. She moves it in my boot slowly back and forth, each movement making me groan in agony. “Goddamn. You getting a kick out of torturing me?”
“Shut up, you big baby,” Ana says, amusement and frustration in her voice. “See what you did? Now you really can’t walk on it.”
“Hey, I had to get you out here somehow,” I admit, letting her help me up. “It worked, and now I get to go put my feet up. Want to be my Naughty Nurse?” I say it lightly, teasingly, wiggling the carrot to get my prey closer, where I want her.
She blushes but ignores the invitation. “Yeah, you can put your feet up, and if you even think of getting up again, I’m going to handcuff you to your bed,” Ana says, moving next to me and putting my right arm over her shoulder.
“Mmm, definitely a Naughty Nurse thing to say. Is that supposed to be a threat? Because if you’re into that, I could be too.” I give her my boyish grin again and wiggle my eyebrows at her. It’s over the top silly, something I haven’t done in years. It feels good, reminds me of who I used to be before I was the asshole on the mountain who growled at everyone.
Ana rolls her eyes, huffing out a laugh unwillingly. I’m counting that in the point column for me. She wraps an arm around my waist, holding mine to her shoulders. “Now, lean on me when you use this foot.”
Together, we limp inside, my body totally aware of hers pressed against my side. The pain’s enough that I don’t pop wood as we walk, and that increases as she helps me into my chair and I hiss when my ribs have to flex. “What did you do?”
“Just sore.”
Ana runs a hand over my side, tutting softly even as her hand strokes my shirt slowly, tenderly. “These will need to be looked at too. You’re stubborn as a mule.”
It’s hard to hold in my grin. It took a little pain, but this is working out even better than I expected. “It’s a fault, but also a strength. Thanks.”
Ana helps me get my feet up before standing and looking around. “Where are your First-Aid supplies?”
“I have a kit under the sink, but it’s just Band-Aids and stuff like that. What do you need?”
“We’re going to need to wrap and maybe even splint this for a few days,” she replies, sighing.
I try to bend forward and untie my bootlace, but no dice. Instead, I lean back and let Ana get the supplies she needs. I hear her rummaging around in the kitchen for a minute and wonder what she’s up to since she said the Band-Aids in the First-Aid kit definitely wouldn’t be useful for this.
“Well, you’re going to have a funky splint then,” Ana says, undoing my boots. She doesn’t make a peep as she helps me out and takes off my socks, only wincing a little when she sees the deep purple bruising on my skin. “Fuck me.”
That was the plan, I think, smiling to myself as she goes about her business. It takes her about five minutes, but soon enough, my right foot is fully wrapped, and I’ve learned a new use for wooden spoons.
“Now,” she says, dusting her hands and looking at me, “I suppose you’re going to need someone to take care of you too. Just one rule . . . no bedpans.”
I grin, nodding. “Deal. So . . . hungry? We could do a late lunch.”
Ana thinks, then nods, smiling a little. “I suppose. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. Not when I have her exactly where I want her.
Chapter 10
Ana
After a light lunch of soup and some bread from my cabin, I help Aubrey over to his couch, where he can lie down while I look at his injuries more closely. “Okay, off with the shirt.” My voice is all business, professional as always when I’m in nurse mode, but underneath, I know I need to prepare myself for what I’m about to see. Aubrey is like a walking, talking dream in clothes. Shirtless, he’s the stuff fantasies are made of, judging by how many times I’ve pictured him the last few days.
Aubrey grunts, lifting just his right arm. He gets his left up only a few inches before his face tightens and I put a hand on his wrist.
“I’ll help you with it,” I say calmly while wanting to slap him right across his handsome face. The dumb, stubborn idiot. He intentionally hurt himself just to try and get me out of the house to talk to him. I mean, showing off a little, not giving up? That’s one thing, but this . . .
I ease his tank top up and off his body, my breath catching a little.
I know I should be detached, keep a clinical mind to assess his injury. But a baser, more needy side of me notices how close he his, the way his chest is heaving a bit from the work of taking his shirt off, and how the dusting of hair runs down in a line into the waistband of his jeans, making me want to follow it. His abs clench, and he hisses as he tries to explore his injured side himself. Clearing my throat, I try to focus on the more immediate problem as I run my hand carefully over the area, looking for any tender spots. My fingertips burn where they touch his skin and I wonder if he feels it too. “You did this on purpose.”
Even though he all but admitted it earlier, Aubrey plays innocent, grunting at me. “Had work to do.”
Shaking my head, I press gently, not feeling anything broken there at least. “Sure. Now you’re worse off than you were.”
Aubrey looks at me through hooded eyes, watching my hand trace along his skin. His voice is gravelly, deeper than usual, although it doesn’t seem to be from the pain. “I’d say I’m better. Got a pretty girl taking care of me. You know, you’re a hard one to crack. Almost as stubborn as me.”
The compliment and the admission that he knows he’s a stubborn ass make me blush, and I keep rubbing his skin, moving over his chest and biting my lip as I feel the rock-hard muscle underneath. I pretend I’m still searching for injuries, but we both know that’s not true. I appreciate that he lets me keep up the façade, though, because if he called me on it, I’d stop and we bo
th know it. “I should’ve let you lie out there until your dog dragged you back inside.” My voice is a whisper, more seductive than admonishment.
“But you didn’t,” Aubrey says, covering my hand with his. “Because you care.” There’s a moment, both of us frozen, and I can feel his heart beating fast and hard under my hand. His eyes are locked on mine, daring me, begging me. It would be so easy to slip into his lap, carefully to keep from hurting his ribs, straddle his cock, and take his mouth. Let him fill me, shatter all this tension coiling through my core. So easy, and yet . . . so hard on my heart. He’s dangerous.
I don’t respond, letting the moment stretch until it snaps as Rex grumbles in his sleep by the fire. Thankful for the reprieve, I decide to change the subject. Getting the rubbing alcohol, I wash his ribs and a few scratches I find, not sure if they’re new or old, looking for another subject to focus on. Anything. “You sure have a lot of wood lying around. You must get a lot of splinters.”
Aubrey shrugs, looking at his calloused palms. “You get used to it. And I like to keep plenty handy for when I’m in the mood for woodworking.” He gestures to a large chair. “Made that.” He says it casually, like making a freaking chair is no big deal.
“Really?” I ask, glancing back. The chair is massive, definitely Aubrey-sized, with smooth runners to let it rock back and forth, a high back, and wide armrests. I have a flash of Aubrey working night after night by firelight to shape the posts just so. Then I picture him sitting in it, my legs spread wide over the armrests as he pumps up into me, rocking with the motion of our bodies joining. Fuck, I’ve got to stop. I gulp. “You do good work.”
“I’m good with my hands,” Aubrey says, his voice thick with meaning.
I breathe in sharply, wondering just how good and knowing that I’ve got to redirect the conversation to something safer or I’m going to fall into his trap, willing and begging. “I can’t imagine living out here like this. No Starbucks? No takeout Chinese? I’d go insane.”
Untamed (Irresistible Bachelors Book 9) Page 7