“Open it.” He nodded to the condom I’d managed to keep in my fingers. Then the sound of metal scraping metal filled my ears as he flicked the clasp on his oval belt buckle. The sound of his zipper opening came next.
“Holy fuck.” My eyes bulged as his thick length bobbed free. He’d been wearing nothing under those jeans the entire time. No boxers or briefs. Just Easton Greer going commando as he’d sat at my small table eating spaghetti.
Too distracted by the sight of his cock, I nearly dropped the condom. He snatched it from me before it fell from my fingers and put the foil between his teeth to rip it open and sheath himself.
Then I was up, his hands lifting me in the air with a swift bounce before he spread my legs wide and thrust inside.
“Ah,” I gasped, stretching around him as he fell forward, cursing and groaning into my neck. “Move.”
He shook his head.
“East, move.” I dug my nails into his back, clawing through his shirt. That earned me a nip on my jaw as he slid out only to push inside again, this time going even deeper.
My entire body shivered.
“Fuck, that feels good.”
I hummed my agreement as he slid in and out once more.
We moved in tandem, his hips rolling forward as I leveraged the wall to meet his strokes. The sound of slapping skin and labored breathing filled the room. He kept his eyes locked on mine, that intense gaze boring into mine with every move. Easton held me captive, pinned and at his mercy.
The build of my second orgasm was slower than the first, but it didn’t take Easton long to bring me to the breaking point. Sparks pooled and I felt—I felt everything—as I toppled over the edge. The explosion was devastating. He shattered me completely, leaving me in tiny pieces that would never fit together in the same way again.
“Christ, Gem,” he whispered, leaning into me as I clenched around him, pulse after endless pulse, until he moaned into my ear and shuddered with his own release.
I collapsed into him as we both came down, my arms limp and boneless as I gave him my weight. My ponytail had come loose and my hair was draped around us. My ankles were locked around his back and my cashmere sweater was likely ruined from this encounter with a log wall.
Much like with my French lace panties, I couldn’t find the energy to care.
With a kiss to my temple, Easton eased me to my feet, holding my elbow as I found my balance. “Good?”
I nodded and shoved my hair out of my face. “I’m good.”
“Be back.” He pulled his jeans up to cover his ass, the zipper and the belt hanging loose, as he disappeared down the hallway to the bathroom.
I blinked away the fog and searched for my jeans. I stepped into them and had them buttoned as he emerged.
Jeans zipped. Belt fastened. Shirt tucked.
His eyes flickered between me and the door.
“So . . .” I picked up the scrap of fabric formerly known as my underwear.
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted, raking a hand through the hair I’d tousled at some point. “The after.”
The after? Oh. After a hookup. Right.
“Then let’s skip it. Goodnight, Easton.”
He sighed and walked toward the door, hesitating for a moment like he was going to come over and kiss me. But he didn’t. He twisted the knob, tipped his chin and said, “Goodnight, Gemma.”
* * *
“Hey.” I knocked on Katherine’s open office door.
“Hey. Are you done for today?”
“Yep.” I took my usual chair, the one I sat in every afternoon at this time. “My relief has arrived.”
Annabeth had hired a local high school girl to work the desk after school each evening. It was a great hire for the long-term resort staff. For me, it meant that after four o’clock, I had nothing to do but go to the cabin. Alone.
“Want to have dinner?” I asked.
“I can’t tonight.” Katherine rolled her eyes. “I have a town council meeting.”
“Well, look at you. You’re on the town council.”
She shrugged. “I took a seat after Liddy stepped down last year. Rain check?”
“Sure.” I smiled, wishing I had her jam-packed schedule like the one I used to have in Boston.
Because if I had meetings and appointments each night, I wouldn’t go home and dwell on the fact that I’d had sex with Easton last night. I’d already spent the day overthinking it.
What had I been thinking? How was I supposed to be around him now? How was I supposed to act during family dinner or when he came into the lodge or when I ran into him outside?
Had that just been another one of his hookups? Did he do that with other people at the resort? There were some pretty girls who worked here. I’d seen them coming and going as they worked. In a way, they reminded me of Katherine, Londyn and me at that stage. Had any of them caught Easton’s eye? Had any of them begged him for a riding lesson?
Bitches.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Katherine asked.
I blinked. “Huh?”
“I don’t know where you were right then, but the look on your face was murderous.”
I groaned and folded forward, dropping my face into my hands. “I had sex with Easton.”
“What?” Katherine shrieked. “When?”
“Last night.” I cringed. “And . . . eleven years ago.”
“Sit up and spill.”
I obeyed. “He came over last night to deliver firewood. I asked him to stay for dinner and . . . sex.” Incredible. Unforgettable. Wild sex.
“You’re blushing, Gemma,” she teased.
I covered my cheeks with my hands. “He’s . . . well, you’ve seen him. He’s gorgeous and infuriating and overwhelming.”
“So last night. What about eleven years ago?”
“It was the night before I left. He was living in one of the apartments beside the staff quarters, remember?”
“Yeah. I took his apartment when he moved out.” She scrunched up her nose. “Eww. You had sex in my bed.”
I giggled. “Sorry.”
She waved it off. “Continue.”
“I was outside watching the sunset. And he found me.”
Easton hadn’t known it at the time, but I’d been outside watching the sunset and memorizing the line of the mountains since I’d been ready to leave. And for the first time, he hadn’t given me a chin jerk and kept on walking. He’d stopped, leaned against the same fence rail, and stared at the horizon.
We hadn’t talked much. He’d asked me if I liked it here.
I’d told him the truth.
Yes.
I’d always loved the Greer Ranch.
But that hadn’t stopped me from leaving.
“We stayed outside until after sunset. When he escorted me inside, he had this look. Like he wanted to invite me into his room, but he wasn’t sure I’d say yes. It was the first time I’d seen just a tiny crack in that confidence of his. So I kissed him.”
I’d spent the night in his bed until he’d fallen asleep, and then I’d snuck out. Before the sunrise, I’d walked the miles to the highway and had hitchhiked my way to Missoula. Then I’d hopped on a bus and left for Boston.
“That explains why he was such a grumpy bastard those months after you left,” Katherine said. “I always thought it was because he was mad at you on my behalf. Which was sort of sweet, in a big brother way.”
“Oh, I’m sure that was part of it too. He loves you.”
“Like a sister. They all love me like a sister.” The light dimmed in her eyes for a split second before a smile spread across her pretty face. “Is this a bad time to remind you that we have a no-fraternization policy for employees?”
I picked up a paperclip from her desk and threw it at her head. “You’re not helping!”
She laughed. “Sorry. What are you going to do about him?”
“I have no idea. He’s . . . complicated.”
The attraction between us was this ste
ady charge, this undercurrent impossible to ignore. If we weren’t at each other’s throats, fighting, it was futile and well . . . that had led to us fucking against the cabin wall.
“What would you do?” I asked.
“Talk to him. He’s dealing with a lot right now and he’s supposed to be in charge, but people forget to talk to him. They forget to ask what he thinks or how he feels.”
I loved my friend. And I loved her even more for seeing Easton’s struggles when everyone else around here seemed oblivious.
It wasn’t my place to decide how to proceed after last night—Katherine was right. I’d made that decision last time by leaving and had taken Easton’s choice away.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
So three hours later, I drove the Cadillac to his house.
It was dark outside because I’d waited until after dinner before getting in my car. I hadn’t wanted to get here and have him still be working somewhere on the ranch. Katherine had written down directions to his place, and I’d held the sticky note in one hand while I drove with the other.
I’d had to drive away from the lodge and across the highway, to a section of the Greers’ property that wasn’t used for the resort. This was pure ranch country with open meadows bordered by groves of trees and barbed wire fences. The gravel road to his home followed a wandering stream, and when his house came into view, it stole my breath.
The house was centered in the field with the mountains rising up in the distance. The roofline matched almost exactly to the highest peak on the horizon. Golden light flooded through the abundant windows, beckoning me closer. The umber wood siding matched the other buildings on the ranch.
The home, commanding in size and stature, made a bold statement yet fit absolutely in its natural surroundings. It was exactly what I’d expected from Easton, yet surprising at the same time because of its sheer elegance.
The garage door was open as I pulled into the driveway and Easton came outside with a red rag in his grip.
My heart fluttered, seeing him in a pair of jeans and simple white T-shirt. Stubble dusted his jaw and his hair was mussed from a long day’s work. A dull throb pulsed between my legs at the sight of him. Damn, he was hot.
Was he wearing boxers today? Or was he going commando again?
I’d come here with the intention of talking and talking only, but if he showed even the slightest interest, I was going to break that plan.
I sat in my car, parked, but unable to shut it off and get out. I simply stared at him through the windshield.
And he stared back.
Easton broke first, a frown crossing his handsome face as he planted his fists on his hips in a silent ultimatum. Was I coming or going?
Coming.
I sucked in a deep breath and shut off the car, stepping outside into the cold and hurrying toward the garage. “Hey.”
He looked me up and down. “Where’s your coat?”
“I need to buy one. I was supposed to be in California in October, not Montana.”
He stomped into the garage and hit the button to close the door behind us. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought we’d better talk about last night.”
“Why?”
Why? Seriously? “Because I thought you might have an opinion about what happened and you’re the one who said he wished other people would consider his opinions. But hey, if I’m wrong and you just want to forget it ever happened and go back to treating me like shit beneath your boot, I’ll stay out of your way until Christmas.”
I wanted to turn and march to my car, but he’d trapped me inside. The only way out of the garage was through the button at his back, so I crossed my arms and shot him my best glare.
He ran a hand through that thick hair, then stalked my way.
I’d worn a scarf over the only coat I’d packed—a black leather jacket. Easton unwrapped the scarf from my neck. “Sorry.”
“I’m not here to fight with you.”
Easton tossed the scarf on the cement floor. It was as clean as the floor in the cabin. His hands skimmed my arms, sliding over the buttery Italian leather, until they came to my face. “I don’t want to fight either.”
His mouth dropped to mine, erasing the trace of irritation and replacing it with a burning lust that had me pushing the hem of his shirt above his ribs.
“Inside,” I panted against his lips, tugging his belt buckle free. I wanted him in a bed and the chance to do this all night long.
Easton shook his head and walked me to the workbench that ran the length of the garage. I opened my mouth to protest, but then I was lost in an oblivion of Easton’s mouth and hands and body. When I walked out of the garage an hour later on wobbly legs, I had a smile on my face, his scent on my skin and his taste on my tongue.
I was sated. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel the urge to move on to the next thing. I didn’t have work or a task to tackle. I could just enjoy the moment.
And I did, for the first five minutes of my drive home. Then I replayed the night. And last night.
Easton and I had fucked twice. Hard. Both times, he’d screwed me on the closest available surface. Maybe he’d been as desperate for me as I’d been for him.
Or maybe my mother had been right from the start.
Maybe I would always be just another cheap thrill.
Chapter Ten
Gemma
Avoiding a man who worked and lived in the same place you did wasn’t an easy feat, but somehow, I’d managed to dodge Easton for three days.
Or maybe he’d been dodging me.
Other than a glimpse of him riding Jigsaw away from the stables yesterday, I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since the night I’d driven away from his house. He’d looked incredible on that horse. His breath had billowed in a cloud around him—so had Jigsaw’s—and he’d been wearing a heavy canvas coat, cowboy hat with the brim tipped low and leather chaps laced up his long legs.
Easton had perfected sexy, mysterious cowboy. The man belonged on the cover of a romance novel—shirtless, of course.
His mouthwatering appeal was the reason avoidance had become necessary.
When he was around, I couldn’t think clearly and I was in need of some unmuddied thinking.
Either I could lean into this, soak him up until it was time to move on, or I ended it now.
My brain was lobbying for option two. It would be easy to retreat to the robot I’d been in Boston. But my heart was struggling to get on board. Because damn it, here I was, living, breathing and feeling for the first time in a long time, and it was a rush.
Then again, a numb heart didn’t hurt when it was broken.
It was Friday and the Greers were expecting me for family dinner, but the idea of sitting beside Easton, pretending that I hadn’t had him inside me twice this week . . . well, that wasn’t an option.
So I’d begged Katherine to make my excuses and because Carol was the type to come track me down at the cabin, I’d done what all grown-ups would do.
I got the hell off Greer property.
The moment my shift at the lodge had ended, I climbed in the Cadillac and drove into Clear River. Shopping at the small, local grocery store hadn’t taken me as long as I’d hoped. When there were only seven aisles, it didn’t take a long time to go up and down each. Twice.
So after loading up my foodstuffs, I’d decided to stop for a drink at the Clear River Bar.
I wasn’t the only one in need of a cocktail, judging by the crowded parking lot.
Trucks of varying makes and models had taken all but three open spaces. I eased the Cadillac in between a white Ford and a filthy black Chevy, then got out and hit the locks. A chocolate lab sitting shotgun in the Chevy stared me down as country music filled the air. The bar’s windows were crowded with neon beer signs, and the red tin siding had faded under years of brutal sunshine. A plastic, camo banner had been tied to the front of the building, advertising HUNTERS WELCOME in bright orang
e letters.
The smell of beer and stale cigarettes assaulted my nostrils when I opened the door and my eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim light. Conversation seemed to halt as the whole room turned in their stools and chairs.
The bar was situated along one side of the room, and as I crossed the scuffed tile floor, heading for one of the only empty stools, most faces followed my path. I’d never felt so many eyes on my ass in my life.
Maybe a drink was a mistake.
It was only when I was on a stool, ass hidden, that the dull drum of conversation resumed, merging with the jukebox’s music from the corner.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, setting out a paper coaster. Besides me, she was the only female in the room.
“Do you have wine?”
She looked me up and down, leaning in to lower her voice. “Were you looking for the resort? Because I think you might be lost.”
“Nope, not headed for the resort.”
“Then you’ll be disappointed. All I have is a box of Franzia, vintage last month.”
I laughed. “Then how about a vodka soda with lemon?”
“That I can handle.” She smiled, then went to the other end of the bar, talking to a few other patrons while she mixed my drink. When she brought it back, she snagged a menu off the stack. “Cheeseburgers are on special tonight if you’re hungry.”
“Sold.”
“Fries?”
I nodded. “Please.”
“You got it.” She returned to her end of the bar, leaving me alone.
The two guys next to me were wrapped up in their conversation about politics and paid me no attention as I twirled the red straw in my glass, clinking the ice cubes and poking the lemon wedge. I sipped my drink slowly as I took in the room.
A lot of eyes flickered my way but none lingered too long. The man on the stool exactly opposite mine finished his beer, shook hands with the guy at his side, then waved goodbye to the bartender. As he opened the door to leave, another figure appeared beyond him.
His cowboy hat dipped as he exchanged greetings, then my stomach dropped.
Wild Highway: Runaway Series - Book 2 Page 11