Untamed (Irresistible Bachelors Book 9)

by Lauren Landish

  Outside my bubble of sparkles, I can hear him. “Fuck, baby, that’s it. Come for me, Ana. Smack that pussy for me.” I do it, again and again, another orgasm beginning before the last one is even finished, and my body shakes as the waves rush through me. I’m thankful I’m sitting because if I’d been standing, I don’t think my legs would’ve held me.

  I’m sprawled out on the chair, legs wide and back hunched as my head lolls to the side. When I can finally open my eyes, Aubrey’s gaze is locked on me, his hand slowly stroking his softening cock.

  When our eyes meet, he takes one step toward me. I feel the wall between us resurrect . . . just a little. It’s not solid and made of brick, but it’s there, paper-thin like a shoji screen. He must feel it too. He’s still taking the few steps toward me, slow and easy, giving me time to stop him or to bolt, but I don’t. I try honesty instead. “Aubrey, I can’t take anymore. Physically or emotionally. I can’t.”

  Aubrey stops right in front of me, pulling my hand from between my legs and bending low to catch my fingers in his mouth. His tongue sweeps all along their length, finding and sucking every drop of my cream. My breath catches, my jaw dropping. Aubrey moves his fingers, coated in his cum, and shoves two fingers deep in my mouth, almost choking me. It’s not gentle. It’s not a question. It’s a silent order. Suck my fingers too. And fuck, I do it. I do it and I love it.

  When we’re both clean, we get dressed again. Aubrey doesn’t push for more, though I know he wants it. I do too.

  “I should probably go,” I say awkwardly. “Trey and Brad were planning to leave by two so that we’re home in plenty of time for dinner.”

  I walk toward the door, and Aubrey follows me, placing a hand on the doorknob so I can’t open it. “Ana—”

  “Don’t,“ I cut him off, scared of what he’ll say. If he asks me to stay, I will. But I don’t think I should so I don’t want him to say a word.

  His face pulls taut. “Not that. I understand and I’ll wait. I just wanted to say this . . .” And he takes my mouth in a passionate kiss, holding my chin and not letting me escape. It’s everything, our childish dreams, our adult desires, our scary hopes for the future, all mingled together in a kiss that tastes like a combination of our cum. When he pulls back, he cups my cheeks. “Let me know when you get home so I know you’re safe. Please.”

  The irony of that statement isn’t lost on either of us, but it feels petty to bring it up. It’s a sweet request and so I agree. “I will. Stay off your ankle.”

  He grins, the lie intentionally obvious. “I will.” And then he opens the door for me and lets me leave. I’ll admit that part of me wants him to stop me, to keep me here and force me to listen like he said he wanted to do weeks ago. But I need to choose this, choose him as he is now, not be forced into a relationship with him by our pasts or his demands. Still, walking out that door is hard, especially when I hear him from behind me. “I’ll see you soon, baby. I love you, Sweet Ana.”

  I don’t answer, the tears already spilling. I go out and get in the SUV, and as we pull off, I stare at the cabin, feeling sadness, anger, and loss, but also hope, love, and faith. I came here expecting a recharge and instead confronted the unexpected and got answers to some of the questions that had shaped my early adulthood. I don’t know if Aubrey meant it, if he’s going to keep chasing me into the city. What does that even mean? I can’t imagine Aubrey, huge and wielding an axe as he struts along Main Street like he used to. No, I’m afraid that once I’m gone, he’ll revert to his grumpy mountain man self, wild and untamed . . . lost to the woods, to time, to me.

  As the cabin disappears into the trees, I turn away, wiping a tear from my eye, leaving Aubrey in my past. For the second time.

  Chapter 27

  Aubrey

  Rex whines next to me. He knows something is wrong. Sighing, I pick up my bowl and look at the half-eaten pile of old stew before I set it down on the floor. “Go ahead, Rex. I’m not hungry.”

  It’s been hard the last few days. I wanted Ana to forgive me so much, I think I’d built it up in my head unknowingly like some sappy romance movie. Like she’d wrap her arms around me when I told her all the ugly, stupid shit I’d done, brush my hair back, and tell me it was okay and that she still loved me.

  Hell, I’d watched as the SUV had pulled away, hoping against hope that I’d see the brake lights tap on and then the door would open and she’d be running back to hop into my arms and smother me with kisses.

  But neither happened. Not even when I’d waited by the door, telling myself that when she hit the main road, she’d realize . . . or when she got to town, she’d miss me . . . or when I wasn’t at her house, she’d come back to mine.

  Ugh, I growl to myself. I’m going fucking nuts around here without her. She’d called just like she said she would when she got home, but that was three days ago. She’d sounded so far away that I’d gone up to the lake that night just to look out over Great Falls. I’d wondered if one of the lights in the town far below was hers. I’d talked to Gabe a bit too, but he basically just called me a dumbass and told me to go get my woman.

  I’d agreed with him, but she’d said she was working the next few days. She probably wouldn’t want me just showing up on her doorstep without an invitation.

  So I’ve been alone, just me and Rex. He keeps sighing, staring at the door and walking around like he’s looking for something, or someone. I didn’t think they’d hit it off too well, just a few pats here and there, but he acts like he misses Ana too. “I know, man. I’ll get her back though.” He huffs at me and turns three times, lying down on his blanket with his eyes glued to the door, keeping watch. “Good boy,” I praise him. He doesn’t even look at me.

  But I’ve been keeping busy, returning to my usual routine and taking it easy on my ankle. I’ve even done that alphabet exercise a few times a day. It seems to be helping, the letters getting easier and bigger as the range of motion returns fully.

  I cleaned the other cabin, both hoping no one ever rents it again and wishing someone would so that I’d have company nearby to visit with. That’s strangely odd for me, but the truth. The silence and solitude that used to be my sanctuary feel empty without Ana here. I don’t know how she did that in two short weeks, but the whole mountain feels desolate without her.

  Rex and I cleared two huge trees and took the cords of wood into town for deliveries today. The trip was early for my customers but they were pleased to see me and didn’t ask too many questions when I’d told them I had business in town and thought I’d make it a two-fer. I didn’t have business in town, just needed something to do.

  And then I’d driven back up the mountain. Alone. Again.

  Chapter 28

  Ana

  “Dr. Chen, please come to Radiology. Dr. Chen to Radiology.”

  I sigh, closing my locker and double-checking that I have all my stuff. ID, penlight, stethoscope. Guess I’m ready for my shift. But the reality is, I don’t want to be back at the hospital.

  “Hey, don’t worry,” Abby, one of the other nurses, says. “Last time I took two weeks off, I was all sorts of discombobulated when I came back. You’ll be good by end of your shift though. It all comes back like you never left. Just take it easy.”

  “Yeah, well, this might be the first time I actually hope something interesting happens,” I reply with a small chuckle. “I’m not saying something bad. Just . . . you know, I want to stay busy.”

  “Just remember,” Abby, who’s our resident weirdo even on her best days, “when the zombie apocalypse starts, we’re going to be the busiest people in town. Stay alert, stay alive.” She presses her fist to her chest over her heart in some misguided notion of a salute.

  I laugh. At least her quirkiness is good for that. We start shift, but I’m not expecting any zombies or even anything out of the ordinary.

  I grab my checklist and med cart, starting my rounds. Everything’s normal, and Abby’s right, I’m starting to get back into the routine when I come
to Eleanor’s room, a smile crossing my face at her insistence that I needed a vacation. I wonder what she’d think about how that advice ended up.

  There’s a new patient assigned to the room, Mr. Benson, who’s recovering from a hernia surgery that was complicated by his high blood pressure. “Hi, Mr. Benson. How are you feeling?”

  He winces as he adjusts himself, complaining, “I’d be better if I wasn’t stuck in this hard bed. How do they expect anyone to rest in these things? Oh, and I could eat. When can I get some real food?”

  I check his chart, giving him my best professional smile and letting the grumpiness roll off me. Some patients do this . . . their fear and nerves turn them into demanding children. It’s all part of the job. Smile and reassure. “Don’t worry, you’ll be getting your dinner soon.”

  I finish my round and go back to the desk, where Abby’s on the computer. Mr. Benson’s call light is already on. “He’s not quite as charming as Eleanor was, huh?” I ask Abby.

  “The funny lady in 1264?” Abby asks, looking up. “She left before your vacation, right? Oh, that reminds me. She sent donuts to the whole floor, and there was something for you.”

  “For me?” I ask, surprised. “Really?”

  Abby nods and roots around in the desk for a moment before pulling out an envelope. “Here, I knew I put it somewhere.”

  I bite back a comment that Abby could have just put it in my staff mailbox, but that’s Abby. Taking the envelope, I find a quiet corner of the nurse’s station and open it, finding a single sheet of paper inside written in spidery, slightly shaky script.

  Dear Nurse Anabelle,

  Thank you for your sweet care and laughter during my recent stay. It was perhaps the only thing—besides getting down to Occupational Therapy to look at Dr. Greene—that kept my spirits up around here.

  I’ve decided that life is too short to sit on my ass during my so-called golden years. So I’ve decided that, even though I’m 71 years old, I’m going sky diving. And if these old bones can handle that, I’m going hang-gliding in Arizona. I saw on TV that they do something called a tandem ride where I just get to hitch along and the teacher does all the hard work. Sounds great to me. I’m going to kick this year in the ass!

  If you’ll let an old lady leave you some advice, it’s this. I spent too many years when I was young talking about all the things I wanted to do and not doing them, for one reason or another. Well, enough of that!

  Whatever you do, live your life to the fullest because you only get one and you never know how long or short it’s going to be. Go laugh, party, tear the house down. Cry, have your breath taken away. But most importantly, love. Love with all your heart. It’s worth it. You’ll find your life a lot better when it’s your turn to be 71.

  Good luck.

  Her signature is scrawled at the bottom, and as I fold her letter and slide it back into the envelope, I smile slightly.

  “Crazy old bat,” I murmur with a smile, but it’s a loving comment. I sit back for a moment, thinking about what Eleanor said. Live my life to the fullest? Have I really been doing that?

  I know I was the past two weeks. Being with Aubrey, I woke up every morning looking forward to the adventure the day would bring and went to bed every night fully satisfied in every way. I was . . . happy.

  Love with all your heart. Live to the fullest.

  Okay, Eleanor. Your last advice worked out pretty well for me. Let’s see what else you’ve got.

  Chapter 29

  Aubrey

  The sun is unseasonably warm, and I’ve already peeled off my flannel as I let my muscles warm up. Rex lies by the porch, his tongue lolling as he pauses after chasing a squirrel around for the past few minutes, and he looks content as we get back into our routine.

  Honestly, I’d like to take a break. My shoulders ache and my forearms are trembling from the chopping I’ve gotten done so far, and nothing sounds more inviting than just kicking back in my chair and sipping on some spring water. But if I stop, I just think about Ana, kicking myself for letting her go and having to hold myself back from storming into town to chase her down. I’m not sure that’s a bad idea, if I’m honest, but I’m not sure it’s a good one either, so I’m trying to hold off on going full-caveman for now.

  So I chop and chop and chop some more, filling a big order for one of the bar-b-que places in town who’s hosting their annual cookoff. One whole cow and two pigs do not slow-smoke themselves, and they ordered a truckload of wood. A good thing for me, personally and professionally, but it’s killing me physically right now.

  The aches in my shoulders and back don’t replace the ache in my chest since Ana’s left, and this morning, for the first time in a long time, Rex had to chase me out of bed after sunrise.

  “I really, really should have gotten that log splitter old Earl in town offered me last time I was at his feed and seed,” I grumble as I set another log. Even though it wasn’t powered, letting gravity and a forty-pound weight do the splitting for me sounds really good right now. “But no, I had to be Mr. Macho. Rex, I think I’m a fucking idiot.”

  Rex looks up, thumping his tail twice before getting up and going for a drink. I chuckle darkly, thinking he’s right . . . and that I’m an idiot about more than just log splitting.

  The fact is, I let Ana go. It’s been four days, and while I’d told myself to be patient, especially for the days I knew she was working, the two additional days have just about killed me. I’ve left a Good Morning text each day, nothing big, but she didn’t even send an emoji back to those. I can’t help but feel like that’s a bad sign.

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” I tell Rex as I go around picking up the split lengths of wood and taking them over to my old work truck. The bed’s about half full, and I need to get the restaurant at least three bedloads before next week. Tossing the lengths in, I know if I can get a move on, then maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to make it.

  Dusting off my hands, I go over to the water spout, grabbing my tin cup. “You thirsty, boy?” I ask Rex.

  He wags his tail, tilting his head, and barks once.

  I down the rest of my water and refill my cup, tossing the water into the air as Rex jumps through it, biting and barking like the water is a living entity. I do it again and again, laughing at his antics, thankful for the levity.

  A loud rumbling fills the air, and I look toward the trail, wildly hoping . . . but it’s Carlotta, driving up in her ATV. Rex, of course, smothers her in kisses and doggy licks as soon as she gets off. “Hey, Car.”

  “Ew . . . you’re wet! Stop it, you big lovebug!” Car says, fending off Rex before coming over. She’s surprised when I come over and give her a hug, patting her on the back. “Well, now, what’s this about?”

  I shrug, not admitting that I’ve missed human contact the past few days. Car, though, being her normal self, doesn’t let it go. “I see. Does this have something to do with your first guest at the cabin?”

  I shrug again, picking up another armload of logs and dumping them in my truck.

  “Aubrey?” she asks in that tone of hers, crossing her arms and tapping her foot. “Put the logs down and answer me.”

  I toss my armload in the truck, turning back to her. “I’ve got work to do if I’m going to get this order filled. So either give me a hand or leave me alone.” Fuck. I can hear it. The short, clipped words, needlessly harsh, and the virtual growl to my tone. Without Ana to soften my edges, I’m back to being a grumpy asshole, falling back into easy habits to shut myself off.

  She stares at me, then sighs in exasperation. “You screwed things up with her, didn’t you?” When I don’t answer, she stomps her foot. “You fucking fool, Aubrey. We don’t always get second chances. If you get one, don’t let it slip away.”

  I turn away, grabbing another couple of logs. “It’s none of your business.”

  “Bullshit,” Carlotta retorts. “You’re family. Of course it’s my business, especially when you need her.”

  Ange
r stirs my chest as I turn to her, my eyes full of fire. I don’t need shit from anyone when I’m doing a pretty damn good job of my own self-crucifixion.

  “I might not know a lot, but that’s one damn thing I do know!” I explode, throwing the chunk of log in my hand toward the woods, watching as it flies before tumbling across the ground. I turn back to Carlotta, who hasn’t moved. My voice is softer when I admit, “I know that more than you realize.”

  She sighs and comes over to me, putting a hand on my chest. “I only want what’s best for you, Aubrey.”

  “I know. I’ve just been beating myself up and don’t really need it from anyone else. I know you mean well.”

  Carlotta steps back. “Why the hell are you still here, Aubrey? If she means that much, you need to fix it right. Go get her!”

  “And if fixing it right means she and I . . . don’t end up together?” I ask, scared to voice the fear in my gut. Maybe she got home and realized her life was better without me? Maybe she’s home in her apartment, feeling pity for the beast out in the woods who can’t get over things that happened a decade ago?

  Carlotta pats me on the back. “I have faith in the power of what you feel, Aubrey. Think about it.”

  Carlotta sticks around another half hour, helping me load the rest of my logs to make my truck three-quarters full before she leaves. I wave as she pulls away on her ATV and I go back to work. Lifting my axe over my head, it trembles before I let it fall to the ground and I slump down onto my chopping block, my head hanging.

  Truth is, Carlotta’s right, as she often is, and she’s pretty damn stubborn. I’m a miserable fuck as it is, and if I don’t try to make it right, I’m going to be worse. But I don’t know how. There are so many emotions between us, and if there’s one thing I’m real fucking good at, it’s avoiding those things like the fucking plague. But for her, I’d work it out . . . share and talk and shit.