Naughty Wish

by J. H. Croix

  I walked across the gravel drive, my eyes on Amelia. She’d tied my too-big shirt in a knot at her waist, giving me a nice view of her lush bottom as she leaned forward to toss aside the wood she’d just split in two. She swung the axe again, efficiently splitting another log and promptly moving onto the next. When I reached her side, she stopped, letting the axe fall to the ground. She dragged her sleeve across her face and looked over at me. Her hair was loose and fell in honey-brown waves around her shoulders. Her skin was flushed and her eyes uncertain.

  Just like that, I was hard. Fuck. Amelia made me crazy. I didn’t even know why I was here. All I knew was I got worried about her mom heading out this way once she found out where Amelia was. The second I started worrying about that, I was calling out to my mom I’d be back later and taking off.

  I tore my eyes from hers—the amber-gold gaze that grabbed at me—and scanned the yard. A yearling stood by the porch basically destroying the bushes there, and a few squirrels were busy running back and forth. I managed a breath and tried to talk my body down. Another breath, and I thought I could look at her again.

  She stood there, one hand on her hip, and all I wanted was to lift her into my arms and find somewhere to lose myself in her. I recalled my mother’s comments about us and about me finally getting a chance to make things right. If only it were that easy.

  I swatted those thoughts aside and eyed Amelia. “Thought I’d drop by. You didn’t ask me not to tell anyone where you were. My mom hounded me about at least letting your mom know you’re okay, so I caved. If I should’ve kept my mouth shut, I’m sorry. Thought you might want to know.”

  Amelia was quiet and then nodded slowly. “Right. I didn’t expect you to keep it a secret. I, uh, well, I guess I realized it wasn’t the brightest idea to be out here without a phone. Quinn’s truck won’t start,” she said, gesturing toward an old truck that had definitely seen better days.

  I glanced to the truck and back to her. “Don’t imagine it would. Looks like it’s been sitting in one place for most of the year,” I said, pointing to the tires settled into the ground.

  “Maybe you can give it a jump,” Amelia said, her voice lilting slightly in question.

  I was instantly disappointed. Not because of what she said specifically, but because of what it meant. If the truck started up, I’d be expected to leave as soon as it did. While I couldn’t have said precisely why I was here, I sure as hell didn’t want to leave. Yeah, and it’s gonna look great for you to refuse to help with the truck. Man up and help her out.

  I was nodding before I realized it. Since talking didn’t make a lick of sense with us, I simply walked back to my truck. In short order, I had it parked in front of the old truck and was hooking up the jumper cables. A few tries and nothing happened. Amelia climbed out of Quinn’s truck and came to stare under the hood.

  “Are you sure you hooked it up right?” she asked, glancing from the truck battery to me.

  I didn’t even try not to roll my eyes. “Seriously, Lia?” I swung a palm across the span between the two trucks. “Feel free to check.”

  Amelia’s eyes went wide and her nostrils flared. I abruptly realized I’d just called her by my old nickname for her. Most of the time, I called her Amelia like everyone else did. But when we were alone, sometimes I called her Lia. I felt as if I’d just been kicked in the chest—it hurt that much to remember.

  She didn’t say a word and finally tore her gaze free, her eyes traveling along the jumper cables from my truck battery to the other one. “Of course you got it right,” she said softly. She looked up again, her eyes shuttered. “Let’s try one more time. Okay?”

  Another attempt to no avail. Amelia climbed back out of Quinn’s old truck and unhooked the jumper cables, carefully coiling them before handing them back to me. My fingers brushed hers when I took them, sending a hot jolt of electricity straight through me. I returned them to my truck and closed the hood. I glanced back to the cabin and chuckled.

  “Hope Quinn wasn’t too attached to those bushes,” I offered as I watched the yearling nibble one down.

  Amelia followed my gaze and laughed softly. “Lacey probably won’t be too thrilled. She planted those last summer.”

  “Lacey?”

  She looked to me, her eyes puzzled. After a second, the confusion cleared. “Oh right. You probably missed the fact Quinn got married. After he finished med school and his overseas jaunts, he came home. He took a position at a medical clinic in Diamond Creek. Well, it’s more than a position. He’s taking over the whole clinic from the doctor retiring there. I don’t know if you ever met Lacey, but they were friends for years. She used to do those backcountry trips with him. Anyway, they finally got a clue and realized they were perfect for each other. Quinn bought this cabin about a year ago so they’d have a place to stay when they came up to visit mom and me.”

  It occurred to me I’d missed a lot of details about friends and family in Willow Brook. I hadn’t had to try too hard. Life as a hotshot firefighter didn’t leave a ton of time to visit. It bothered me to realize I felt as if there was a giant hole in my understanding of Amelia—I’d missed so much time. I beat back my regrets and looked over at her. “Good for Quinn. I think I remember Lacey. She came to visit a few times—hard-core hiker, right?”

  Amelia laughed. “That’s one way to describe her. She runs her own guiding business. Quinn helps out a little, but she’s backed off handling most of the trips. She’s got MS and now they have the baby. If you’re here to stay, I’m sure you’ll see them around town. They come up every few months.”

  I nodded and figured maybe we could have a normal conversation. That’s all we needed—a little practice acting normal and maybe I’d stop feeling so crazy around her.

  “It’d be good to see Quinn. Haven’t seen him in years,” I finally said, realizing as soon as the words left my mouth, everything circled back to Amelia and our ugly break up.

  I hadn’t seen Quinn in years because I’d mostly avoided Willow Brook for all of the last seven years. The only thing that got me home was my parents, and I’d kept those visits brief. Silence fell between us again. I scanned the yard, my eyes circling around until I noticed another moose walking down the driveway.

  “We’ve got more company.”

  Amelia followed my gaze and looked back to me with a sigh. “You can tell no one’s around much. I’m guessing they think we’re in their territory, which I suppose we are.”

  She bit her lip, worrying it with her teeth, and blood shot straight to my groin. Hell. She needed to stop doing that. Man, for you to get a grip, she’d have to stop existing. So true and I damn well knew it.

  Another glance down the driveway, and I saw our latest visitor was a full-grown bull moose. It wasn’t mating season yet when the bull moose would be at their boldest, but it wouldn’t be wise to stay where we were.

  “Come on,” I said, slipping my hand around Amelia’s. “Let’s get inside. We’ve got a better shot at getting past our young buddy over there than playing chicken with this guy.”

  Amelia moved at my side without hesitation, her stride long and sure. “Hey moose, we’re coming by!” she called out as we approached the yearling.

  The yearling’s head whipped up. However, it remained in place as we passed by. Amelia never let go of my hand as she opened the door, and we stepped inside the cabin. I didn’t think I could let go. Not just yet. Just the simple feel of her hand held in mine felt so damn good, my pulse was thundering.

  I scanned the room we entered. Light fell through the windows on the far wall, which looked out through the spruce trees to a secluded lake. The space was airy and open with a couch and two rocking chairs situated near a woodstove on the back wall. A kitchen with copper pots and pans hanging from a decorative rack was to one side with a low curved island serving as seating. A spiral staircase led upstairs to where I presumed there were bedrooms since the only door down here was to the side of the kitchen.

  I glanced t
o Amelia who hadn’t moved since she’d closed the door behind us. The sun splashing into the room caught in her hair, gilding it with gold. She didn’t even have to try, and I wanted her so fiercely, I could hardly contain the need pounding through me. Seven fucking years, and she still had me in her grip. I’d been so damn foolish to think I could come home and keep my distance.

  She stared at me, her honey-amber gaze darkening to cognac. I knew what I saw in her eyes. I could only hope she wanted me as desperately as I wanted her.

  My sanity was washed away in the roaring current of need—pure, raw lust was what it was. Her hand was warm in mine. I turned to face her, stroking my thumb in slow passes over her wrist where I could feel her pulse racing. I stepped closer until I was almost flush against her. Her breasts rose and fell against my chest with her ragged breathing. I took a grim satisfaction in knowing she might be as far gone as I was.

  I felt driven—driven by years of missing her, by years of empty sex with women who meant next to nothing, and by years of anger and resentment at what we’d lost and to nothing but someone else’s lies. I hung on to the thinnest thread of control as I stood there, my cock hard and my body nearly a slave to my need for her. After a few beats, I took another step, crowding against her. I could feel the fine shudder running through her body.

  Her skin was still flushed, and her hair a tousled mess from chopping wood. Raw need lashed at me. I told myself I couldn’t let things go too far. Not right now. But I wouldn’t forgo a taste of what I wanted so desperately.

  She backed away, and I followed. Only a few steps, and her hips bumped into the counter. I freed her hand and slid both of mine roughly down her sides to curl around her hips and lift her onto the counter.

  “Cade.”

  She said my name as if it were a plea—rough and raspy.

  “Lia.”

  Her name came out rough and harsh, weighted with years of need, longing, anger and regret.

  I tugged her hips to the edge of the counter and stepped between her knees. I might be half out of my mind, but I needed to give her a chance to tell me to back the hell off.

  “Tell me you don’t want this,” I murmured.

  Her flush deepened. She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “What do you want?”

  She swallowed as my hands slid over the curves of her hips and up her sides. I palmed one of her breasts, savoring its lush, heavy weight.

  She hadn’t answered me yet. I dragged my thumb back and forth across her nipple, taut and erect through my t-shirt. “You’re not answering me.”

  I didn’t know who I was right now. We’d always been a bit wild when it came to sex—riding the rough edge. Amelia was such a force in everything and sex was no exception. With us, it was like match after match after match to the flames between us. Yet, even with the memory of what it had been like with her, I was teetering on a dangerous edge now. With a tumult of emotions lashing at me, I was at the edge of my restraint. I had to know she was as wrecked as I was.

  Still toying with her nipple with one hand, I slipped the other up around her neck, lacing it into her tousled hair. My thumb brushed over the wild beat of her pulse. “Lia…come on. Don’t hide from me.”

  “I want you,” she finally said, her eyes flashing with need and something else.

  “It’s just like I said when you found me. I might’ve been drunk and a mess, but it was the truth. It’s always been you. No one else. To everyone else, I’m too…” She stopped, anger flashing in her eyes.

  I couldn’t help it and arched into her, almost groaning at the feel of her heated core. She murmured something and then tilted her eyes up. I thought she meant to say something. Instead, she yanked me to her, our mouths colliding in a fierce kiss.

  Chapter 9

  Amelia

  I tumbled into the madness of Cade’s kiss. He’d always been a good kisser—a mix of rough and tender—but he was a damn master at it now. Deep sweeps of his tongue against mine, nibbles on my lower lip, slow traces of my lips—hot, wet and overpowering. My senses were obliterated to the point I didn’t even notice when he yanked the t-shirt over my head. Hell, I hadn’t realized I’d already shoved his shirt off until he stepped closer, and I groaned at the feel of his hard muscled chest against me. His skin was hot and smooth. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to have gotten more fit since I’d known him before, but either my memory failed me, or he had. He was hard muscle all over, and I couldn’t get enough. I so often felt too large, too tall and ungainly around other men. I never felt like that with Cade.

  Cade was actually taller than me, but it wasn’t that. Somehow, he made me feel encompassed in his embrace whenever I was with him. I certainly didn’t need any protecting, but I felt protected when I was with him—as if he’d fend anything off. The feeling gave me an odd sense of freedom, as if I could let go in a way I didn’t usually. The feeling was so rare, I collapsed into it and let myself be swept into the madness that existed only with him.

  His lips blazed a wet trail of fire down along my neck, while I mapped his chest with my hands, savoring every hard planed muscle. I cried out when he yanked my bra off and closed his warm mouth over a nipple. I almost came from that alone. I hadn’t had an orgasm with anything other than my vibrator for seven years, along with everything else that went with the bitterness of our break up. All I wanted was him. Now.

  I dragged my hand over the bulge of his cock, savoring his rough groan against my skin. He lifted his head, his dark green gaze locking with mine. He’d already torn the buttons of my jeans open and teased me mercilessly by dragging his fingers back and forth over the denim, but now he hooked a finger over the edge of my underwear and sifted down through my curls, straight into my drenched folds.

  I didn’t even bother to hide my groan. I was so far gone, I didn’t care.

  Cade’s forehead fell to mine, his lips a whisper away. “You’re so wet,” he murmured.

  My only response was a moan when he dragged his thumb across my clit—just once and just enough to make me nearly lose it. He sank a finger into me, driving deep. I cried out, my hips rolling into his touch. Another finger joined the first and he toyed with me, spreading and teasing me, his thumb flitting across my clit.

  I chased after my release, but he held me back, bringing me to the precipice and then pulling back. Nearly wild with need and desperate, I swore.

  “Cade, if you don’t…”

  He chuckled. “That’s my girl. I love it when you get mad.”

  That did it. I slipped my hand into his briefs, sighing at the hot velvety skin over his hard cock. His breath hissed and he stopped teasing me. He drove into me deeply, fucking me with his fingers and sending me spinning in a burst of sharp pleasure.

  Chapter 10

  Cade

  I stared down at Amelia, my heart tightening amidst its thunderous beat. Damn. Amelia was glorious when she let go. Her throaty cry was music to my body, strumming every fiber. She sat before me on the counter, her long legs curled around my hips, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen. Her channel clenched around my fingers, its pulses slowing. My gaze dipped down to her breasts—full and lush, her nipples damp and dusky pink. I hadn’t forgotten any of her, yet everything had faded. The sharpness of now pierced me straight through the heart. All of her—how she looked, how she felt, the way we felt together—was blinding in its shimmering brightness, and I could barely catch my breath.

  She sighed, her legs relaxing around my hips. I managed to drag my eyes up to find hers waiting. Before I had a chance to form a thought, she was shoving my jeans down around my hips, and my cock bounced free. Amelia pushed me back swiftly as she shimmied her hips off the counter. Her hand stroked me lightly before she dragged her tongue up one side and down the other. My knees almost gave out when she looked up. Her lashes were glinted with gold from the sun angling through the windows, framing her eyes dark with desire and a hint of mischief there. She loved having me at her mercy and knew q
uite well she had me there now with my cock in her fist and her lips a mere inch away.

  She waited a beat—her eyes locked to mine—and then dipped her head, swirling her tongue around the end of my cock and drawing me into her mouth. I’d have liked to think I had more control. Hell, I was way past being young and quick. But I’d gone seven long years without the one and only woman who could slay me—body, heart and soul. Her warm mouth around me—her tongue and lips making naughty with me—and I was so close to release, I gritted my teeth. Another slow drag of her tongue along the underside of my cock before she drew me in again, and that was it. My release thundered through me.

  Amelia slowly drew back, not batting an eye at the fact I’d just spent myself in her mouth. She’d never been a prude before and wasn’t now. She straightened and leaned her hips on the counter. Somewhere in the midst of my roaring release, I’d rested my hands on the counter behind her, leaving her standing in the cage of my arms. My breath heaved a few more times as I tried to get back to some place of control. I finally straightened and met her eyes. The corner of her mouth curled in a smile, her cheeks pinkening slightly.

  Watching her, I wrestled with what I wanted—to lift her in my arms and cart her upstairs to where I figured there must be a bed. Taking that step seemed almost dangerous—too intimate, too much of what I wanted, too much of everything I wasn’t sure I could have. Not until we took the time to untangle the mess of regret and misunderstanding between us. It was one thing to state the facts of what happened—a well-timed fabrication sent us spinning away from each other—and yet another thing to get through to the other side of the emotional mess between us with years apart layered on top of it.

  We stood like that for several minutes. Amelia’s half-smile faded, and she started to look anxious. She masked it well, but I knew her probably better than I knew myself. I shook my head. “Don’t.”