CLAIM
DIRTY BROTHERS SERIES
PENNY WYLDER
Copyright © 2018 Penny Wylder
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S.
Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means without prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and
incidents are either products of the author's imagination or
used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, or businesses, organizations, or locales, is completely
coincidental.
CONTENTS
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
1
ANNA
Geeze. Sometimes when people don’t want to be
found they really don't want to be found. It’s a
Saturday. I should be at C’est La Vino, sipping wine
while hanging out with a friend or reading a book or
doing anything that isn’t climbing through the
woods in Vermont, probably covering every inch of
exposed skin in poison ivy.
I slap a tickle on my neck and cringe when my
hand comes away with the remains of a bug on it.
Gross. I can’t believe I’m doing this. But I am.
Because I need to see it through. Granted, I’m not a
trained PI or wilderness tracker. They probably
could have found Robert Logan and his cabin in the
middle of nowhere far faster. But there’s nothing
like a person knowing you’re desperate for money
to pressure you into a job you’re not prepared for.
David Logan wants to find his son. He says it’s
because he wants Robert to come to Samuel
Logan’s wedding. He skipped his youngest brother
Thomas’s. But I’m not dumb enough to believe
that’s the only reason. Logan Sr. isn’t sentimental.
The real reason is that Robert is his oldest son,
and there’s that thing between rich men and their
sons. They want the oldest to take over the family
business, whether or not they have any interest—as
Robert clearly doesn't.
When you’re a part of a family like the
Logan’s, you don't just vanish. And yet Robert did.
It’s been almost a year since the family saw him
last, and it’s taken a few months for me to get this
far. Now I’m hiking in the middle of nowhere,
searching for this cabin, and not having any fun at
all.
But it’s worth it. I need the money. God, do I
need the finder’s fee on this man, even though for
anyone else it would probably be ten times higher.
But I can’t afford to wait for that kind of fee. My
reputation and former life are waiting, I just need
enough money to buy it back. To exonerate myself.
I look ahead through the trees, and I think I see
something. What looks like maybe a glint of metal.
Please, for the love of God, let it be the cabin.
It’s not the cabin, but it is a pick-up truck. A big
one. “Are you kidding me?” I say to the air as I
step out of the tree line. Sitting right there is a
clearly lined drive snaking away down the hill to
my right.
Go fucking figure. I looked for a road for a
couple of hours. The turn off must be so well
hidden that you have to know it’s there to find it.
That, or I’m just so bad at this outdoorsy stuff that
it was right in front of my face the whole time. But
I guess it doesn’t matter, I’m here. I pause for a
second, wiping the sweat off my forehead. I should
make at least a decent impression when I show up
randomly at his door.
I hear a chopping sound as I walk closer to the
house. It echoes down the hill. So someone is
chopping here. I assume it’s Robert, but no one has
seen him for months. For all I know, someone could
live here with him. For a second I think I should
just go around the house and say hello, but I don’t
think surprising someone wielding an axe is a good
idea. Somehow I don’t think someone who went to
all this trouble to disappear likes surprise guests.
Instead, I walk to the door. There’s no knocker
or doorbell. Why would there be? I take my water
bottle instead. It’s metal, and probably loud enough
to get noticed. Taking a deep breath, I bang on the
door. It takes a couple of tries before the chopping
falls into silence. I bang again, and I hear another
door open, and rough, hard footsteps approaching
before the door in front of me flies open and there’s
Robert. And…oh my God.
I recognize him from his pictures, but none of
the photographs did him justice. Especially since
he’s standing in front of me half-naked. That’s
right, Robert Logan isn’t wearing a shirt, his skin is
shining with sweat, and he’s still holding the axe. I
have to force my eyes upward away from his chest
and stomach because I’ve never seen a body like
his and it makes me think thoughts I shouldn’t be
thinking about the man I’m bounty-hunting.
“Who the fuck are you?” His voice is dark and
rough—exactly what you’d imagine coming from
the image standing in front of me.
My mouth is completely dry and now that I’m
here, I’m having trouble finding the words I’ve
practiced for months. This is really not how I
imagined this moment would go. “My name is
Anna Collins,” I say.
He tilts his head and looks at me. His eyes are a
brown so deep they’re almost black. It’s like I can
feel them piercing my skin. His gaze travels my
body from head to toe, no doubt taking in my
disheveled appearance and the signs that I have no
idea what I’m doing out here in the woods. “That’s
your name,” he says. “Still doesn’t tell me who you
are.”
“Your father hired me to find you.”
Robert goes entirely still, and then he laughs, a
loud rolling laugh that rings out through the trees.
“You? He sent you?”
He shakes his head and walks away from the
door. He leaves it open though, which I take as an
invitation to come inside. Robert heads for a basin
by the back door, and quickly washes his hands and
face. I try not to get distracted by the sight of water
dripping down his taut skin. It’s not working.
“Tell my father he can go to hell.” He looks at
me, hair dripping, and I feel the menace in his
words. Logan Sr. was right—Robert did not want to
be found.
I take a few cautious steps forward, further
inside the cabin. “You and I both know that that
answer isn’t going to work for your father.”
“It doesn’t have to work, I just want him to
hear it.”
I bite my lip to stop the laugh that wants to
come out. “Your father would like you to come
home. Come to Sam’s wedding and take your place
at the head of the company.”
Robert freezes for a second. “Thomas is getting
married?”
“To Fiona Monroe.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Could have called
that after the engagement party. That’s good.
They’re suited for each other.”
“So you’ll come back?” I ask, hoping it’s that
simple.
“No.”
2
ROBERT
I don’t know who this woman is, but I’m trying to
keep my back to her. I wasn’t expecting company,
especially company like her. She’s got curves for
days and the right amount of sweat to let me know
that she’s been exerting herself. Which makes me
think about her exerting herself in other ways. I
think my dick went hard the moment I opened the
door.
I’ve been alone up here for a while, and even if
I hadn’t, Anna Collins is a walking fantasy. I don’t
want her to see that she’s made me hard when she’s
here doing my father’s bidding. I don’t want to give
him any more ammunition.
I fill a glass with water from the spring—it’s ice
cold and cuts through the heat that’s coursing
through my body. I turn back around to face her
and damn, that was a mistake. I don’t care why
she’s here, I’m willing to give her a tour of the
mountain and a whole lot more. Except for the fact
that my father will be furious that I fucked the
person he sent to find me. Actually, that’s not a bad
idea.
But no. I can’t. This refuge is too precious to
lose, and I can’t let her bring me back to the life I
hated. “How’d you get up here?”
“I hiked,” she says. “Though I see that there’s a
road. Now.”
I hide my smile with the rim of the glass. Guess
my camouflage of the road worked. “Well I’ll drive
you down to your car and you can be on your
way.”
She laughs. “I’ve been looking for you for
months. You’re not going to get rid of me that fast.”
“Well, I’m not going back with you.” I walk out
the back door back to my woodpile and chopping
block. This log is just for firewood. Turns out the
trunk of this tree wasn’t the right texture for the
piece I’m imagining.
“You have to at least give me a reason why you
won’t go.” She followed me.
I pick up my gloves and start stacking the
chopped pieces into the woodpile that leans against
the back of the house. “No, I don’t,” I say. “I’m an
adult. I have no current ties, debts, bonds, or
contracts with any member of my family, and I
don’t want to go. And let’s be honest, sweetheart,
there’s no way you can physically force me to go
with you.” I let my eyes travel her body again, and
I can barely control my response because I’m
imagining all those curves pressed up against me
and her trying to force me through the forest. That
would end up with us both on the ground, with me
over her, and— “though I’m enjoying imagining
you trying.”
She walks up to me. “It’s been almost a year
since you disappeared. You can’t tell me that you
don’t miss people. A little company once and a
while.”
I shrug, stacking more wood. “People are
overrated.” She huffs like she’s going to argue with
me. “My family is a nest of snakes and being
around them means having to watch your back all
the time. Every day. It’s exhausting and there’s no
point. And as for people, I’m human. I see people
when I go to the nearest town for supplies.” And
stop by the bar where there’s a pretty blonde
waitress that always makes time for me. “I’m not a
complete hermit.”
The wood is done, so I turn and move to the
garden. There’s a part of me that hopes if she sees
me working that she’ll give up. But if my father
hired her, she’s not going to be a push over. She’s
going to try as hard as she can to get what she came
for.
“You don’t want to see Sam get married?
Thomas was devastated that you didn’t show up.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s not. He’s sad that
the family image was tarnished because I wasn’t
there. My brothers are little copies of my father,
and we’ve never been close. So playing that angle
isn’t going to work. Sam doesn’t give two shits
about whether I was there to see Rose walk down
the aisle in a pretty white dress.”
There’s no witty comeback, and I keep
checking the vines on my tomato plants. They’re
just starting to grow and I need to make sure they
climb properly. There’s still silence. There’s
actually silence for so long that I wonder if Anna
disappeared. I turn around, and she’s there, sitting
on the stump I use to chop wood, looking into the
woods. She left her backpack in the house, and in
her hiking gear, it almost looks like she belongs out
here. Almost. But like it or not, we both know that
she’s a city girl and she’s totally out of her element.
“How do you do it?” she asks.
“What?”
“Be alone like this. I mean, I know you say that
you’re not lonely, but I can’t believe it. Just me and
my own thoughts, twenty-four hours a day? I think
I’d go a little crazy.”
She’s not exactly wrong, but I’m not going to
tell her that. I’m definitely not going to tell her that
a face like hers is the most welcome sight I’ve seen
in a long time, or that the longer I look at her face,
the more I want to see how those lips taste. But
after that, I would want her gone. I chose this
solitary life for a reason, and I’m not going to give
it up just because my prick of a father thinks he’s
entitled to it.
But I think there’s a way for both of us to get
what we want.
“It can be a little isolating,” I say, slowly
crossing back to her. “But who knows, you might
like it. Maybe you want to help me be less lonely?”
I’m already much taller than her when she’s
standing, so sitting she has to look up to meet my
gaze, and I like the look of her down there. I catch
the way she swallows, the slight shake in her voice.
“And how would I do that?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“You stay here with me for thirty days. You let
go of your cell phone, the internet, anything that
connects you to the outside world, and my father.
You see the kind of life I have and be my company.
And you’ll earn your keep. If you can make it
through the whole thirty days without the luxurious
life that you’re used to, then I’ll go back with you
to my father, and you’ll get whatever he’s promised
you.”
Anna’s mouth falls open. “How did you know
he promised me—”
“I know who my father is,” I snap. “I know he
likes to hire desperate people, people who need
something from him. So he agreed to give it to you,
and now you’re here.”
She swallows again, and I get distracted by the
line of her throat, which leads my eyes down to
where her shirt has been pulled open just a little too
far. I can see a glimpse of perfect cleavage, and I
fight my body’s instant lust. If she agrees, she’s
going to be here for thirty days if she agrees, and I
know that I won’t be able to hold myself back for
that long, but the way she keeps glancing down at
my bare chest says she’s having the same thoughts I
am.
“And this is the only way you’ll go back,” she
says. It’s not a question, but an acknowledgement.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I crouch down so that I can look her in the eye,
and I see her eyes widen a little at my closeness.
“I’m not going to give up my freedom for just
anything. Not because a city girl came and batted
her eyelashes at me. If you stay, and prove to me
you have some skin in this game, I’ll speak to my
father. So what do you say?”
It takes a second, but eventually she nods.
“Okay,” Anna says. “I’ll stay.”
3
ANNA
What on earth did I just agree to? Am I insane? I
can’t stay in the woods for a month. Not because
anyone will miss me—they won’t. I don’t have any
close friends after…everything that happened. My
only priority has been finding Robert Logan. And
here I am.
But there’s no way that I’ll be able to stay here
for a month. I’ll implode. The way he’s looking at
me right now makes my body melt in a way I
haven’t felt in years, and I’ve only been here for
thirty minutes. If I’m here for thirty days, there’s no
way I’m going to last.
Would that really be so bad? My gut tells me
that yes, Logan Sr. wouldn’t want me find his son
just to fall into bed with him. But then again, he
didn’t specifically say that I couldn’t do that either.
I clear my throat, standing up from where I’ve
been resting on that stump. Robert catches the
movement of my hands as I subtly brush off my
ass. His eyes flick back up to mine and I wonder if
he’s imagining touching my ass. A blush rises up
into my cheeks and I shake my head. What is
wrong with you Anna? This man is your ticket back
into your life, not some guy you’re picking up at a
bar.
“I didn’t exactly bring a month’s worth of
clothes with me.”
Robert smirks, like he’s envisioning me all out
of clothes, and I blush harder. “We can wash your
clothes. And I have to go down the mountain to
town in about a week. If you still feel you need
some, we can buy them.”
“Down the mountain?”
Robert strips off his gloves and heads back
toward the cabin. “Yes, down the mountain. Even
as self-sufficient as I am up here, I still need to
restock supplies from time to time. I’m not a
complete hermit.”
“Oh.” It’s not exactly a brilliant comeback. But
everything I was told about Robert made it seem
like he’d gone off the grid and was living like one
of those doomsday preppers that you see on reality
shows.
But then again, when you live like the rest of
the Logans, I suppose that going off and living
quietly in the woods could seem like that. “Sorry,” I
say.
“Did you think you were looking for someone
who had decided to become a modern caveman?”
The question is probing, but he doesn’t sound
angry. He looks over his shoulder and there’s a faint
smile there; it’s a little sad. Like he knows exactly
what everyone has been saying about him.
“Yeah,” I say. “Something like that.”
I follow him back into the cabin, and he heads
over to the kitchen area. Now that I’m going to be
staying here, I take a better look around.
At first glance, it’s just a wood cabin. But
looking closer, I can see that this isn’t just some
backwoods hideaway. Everything is well made,
solid, and thoughtfully designed. The kitchen, in a
small alcove, has an island and a huge stainless
steel refrigerator. There are a few shining pots and
pans hanging from a rack on the ceiling, and blue
glass dishes drying in a rack by the sink. The main
room of the cabin is huge, with an overstuffed
couch and a couple of cozy armchairs.
For someone who’s been something of a
detective for the last few months, I really didn’t
pay attention when I came in. This isn’t the home
of someone who’s on the run. This is the home of
someone who’s made a life for himself, and it’s not
the life that his family approves of.
There’s a couple of rustic details that are more
in line with what my original vision of his life, like
the basin of water by the back door and the fact
that there’s several huge axes hanging on the wall.
But given that he chops his own wood, it makes
sense.
Stairs disappear upstairs, and I can only assume
that’s where his bedroom is. I try not to look at the
stairs because I don’t want to think about that
insanely hot, half-naked body in bed and all-the-
way naked. Because if I do, then I might
spontaneously combust.
He’s taken a beer out of the fridge and is
leaning against the island, taking a sip. As if he’s
reading my thoughts, he smiles. “You can sleep on
the couch, unless you want to share my bed.”
The way he says ‘share my bed,’ almost like
he’s hoping I’ll say yes, makes me blush again.
“The couch is fine,” I say, and it comes out
more like a squeak.
“Suit yourself.”
I suddenly feel awkward. I had a clear purpose
when I came here, and now that’s gone. I don’t
know what to do with myself. Suddenly the cabin
feels too big and too silent. I have the urge to make
my steps as quiet as possible while I cross to the
living room and sit on the edge of the couch.
“So,” Robert says, coming over and standing,
imposing, across from me. “How did you find me?”
“It took a while,” I admit. “You covered your
tracks well. But your father had done some of the
work for me. Tracked the last payment you made
with your family bank account.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t used his money
in years.”
“You have,” I say. “Your charity deposits.”
“Oh.” He blinks, “I set those up so long ago I
had forgotten about them. How would those have
helped?”
All the money from Robert’s trust fund has
been funneled into various charities for years.
Logan Sr. hadn’t looked at the reports close enough
to realize that none of the money was being used
personally, but I did. And money talks. “People pay
attention to their donors,” I say. “Especially when
that donor is giving them ten grand a month.
Whenever there was a rumor about what you were
doing, people remembered. Just little things here
and there. How you had mentioned to one person a
while ago that you loved Vermont. Or that you were
thinking of buying a place in the woods. Plus, I
have a P.I. License, so I was able to find bare bones
information about your contacts and purchases.”
Robert frowns. “But that wouldn’t have led you
directly here.”
“No,” I cringe. “But dropping your father’s
name to the right people did.”
I notice the way his hand tightens on the bottle
when I mention his father. Clearly no love lost
there.
“Did you tell him you’d found me?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I wanted to be
completely sure that I had before I gave him any
news.”
He nods. “Good.”
I press my lips together, looking around the
room. “What exactly am I going to do here for
thirty days?”
Robert takes a long sip from his beer, and I
can’t help but notice the way his muscles move
when he swallows. “First, take a little time away
from my father so you can see more clearly.
Second—”
“Hold on a second,” I say. “I’m not some stupid
girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing. I’m not
under your father’s spell, and I don’t need to clear
my head. Your dad isn’t a Class-A citizen, I know
that. But I need the money that he offered me, and
I don’t get that until I bring you back with me. So
please don’t think that you’re somehow saving me
by making this deal.” He doesn’t move, just looks
at me, processing what I’ve said.
“Every deal with my father takes more from
you than you think it does. I’m not trying to save
you, but I still think a little space will help you. And
second, since you’ll be here, I could use an
assistant.”
“An assistant for what?”
4
ROBERT
The way Anna is standing there challenging me is
so sexy that I’m considering just kissing her.
Instead, I focus on the little details around me to
rein in my arousal. The cold feeling of glass
between my fingers, the scratch of denim on my
legs, the subtle hint of perfume from Anna. Nope,
that one doesn’t help.
“Come with me,” I say, turning and heading to
the door to my workshop, hidden under the stairs.
I don’t hear her footsteps behind me, and I look
back to see her frozen in place. She looks nervous.
Scared, and there’s a cold feeling that lodges in my
gut.
“Is this the part where you lock me in your
basement for the next month and torture me?” The
way she says it is light—like it’s meant to be a joke
—but I can see that it’s not entirely.
Stupid. I should have seen that it could be read
that way, and I feel a little sick that she would think
that. But then again, she’s a woman alone with a
man she doesn’t know, miles from help.
I hold up my hands. “No. My workshop is on
this side of the house. I’m showing you my work,
that’s all.”
Her shoulders loosen. “All right.” She still
sounds hesitant, but I know once she sees my
studio she’ll understand.
I push open the door and stand aside, letting her
look without the pressure of me standing behind her
or being in the room. The workshop in the
afternoon is always my favorite—the sun pours into
the room like honey. I get my best ideas in the
afternoon. There’s only one piece in here right now,
a work in progress that I’m struggling with. It’s why
I was out chopping wood looking for something
new—a distraction. I got one. Just not the one that
I was expecting.
Anna steps up to the door and I hear her small
gasp. The light from the western window is
illuminating her, and I can see that her hair isn’t
brown at all, actually a deep auburn that’s brought
out by the sun. I have the urge to reach out and
touch it. But I don’t. As much as I’m attracted to
her and my dick is ecstatic that she’s going to be
staying under the same roof as me, now is not the
time.
“You’re an artist?” she breathes.
“Yes.”
She steps into the workshop, and I don’t follow.
I let her wander, looking at my tools and
workspace. The block of wood in the center of
room is starting to take a shape, but it’s still
uncertain. Some hints of a swirling coil, but it
doesn’t feel right. Not yet, anyway.
I lean against the doorframe, enjoying her look
of absolute wonder at this revelation. I suppose it
makes sense. I went from a caveman she was trying
to capture to a normal man who lives on a
mountain to an artist. It’s my closest held secret—
no one knows. Not even my family. Why I’m telling
the woman who wants to turn me into my father, I
have no idea. But something in my gut tells me that
it’s all right. That this is a secret she’ll keep.
I hope I’m right.
“Nothing,” she says, “nothing I found told me
that you were an artist.”
I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face.
“It’s a very well-kept secret.”
“Seriously.”
“But,” I say, “out of curiosity, when you saw
that all of my accounts went to charity, did you
wonder where I got money to buy this land? Or to
support myself?”
She nods, reaching out to gently touch the
carving. “I did. When I couldn’t find anything, I
assumed that you had either used a trust fund or
had some kind of business that I couldn’t find.”
She looks at me, and I nod to the wood she’s
touching. “This is the truth. I liquidated my trust
years ago—also charity—everything I own was
purchased with money I made myself. I haven’t
used my father’s money in years.”
All the fear and tension that her body was
holding a few minutes ago is gone. “Let’s not cover
everything in the first hour,” I say, putting on a
smile. “We’ll have nothing to talk about.”
Only a half-truth, really. I didn’t know my
father had sent someone after me and I’m still
processing that. The anger at him for thinking he
still has any right to my life burns hot and deep, and
I’m not ready to talk about it yet.
She looks down, and I think she’s embarrassed.
Clearing her throat again, she looks up at me and
damn, those eyes go right through me. Blue as the
sky on a clear day and what I wouldn’t give to have
those eyes filled with pleasure, looking up at me—
focus Rob. “What?” She asked a question and I
missed it.
“You said you need an assistant? What for?”
I shrug. “I get by all right, but it will be nice to
have a second set of hands. Sometimes it’s easier
when you have someone else to steady the wood
while you’re carving. If the chores get done faster
then I have more time to work, that sort of thing.”
She nods. “I can do that.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You really need that
money, don’t you?”
Anna smirks. “Let’s not cover everything in the
first hour.”
I laugh. That’s fair. “In that case, let’s go get
your car and have something to eat. Thirty days
starts tomorrow.”
“Are you going to put a shirt on?”
I turn back to her. “See something you like?”
Her cheeks are a perfect shade of pink, and I’m
glad once again that my back is to her, because I
want to see that blush everywhere, and I’m going to
do my best to make sure that I do.
She opens her mouth, and it takes a couple of
seconds for her to find the words she’s looking for.
“I just thought you’d be more comfortable.”
We’ll go with that. For now. “Whatever you
say, sweetheart. Come on, I’ll show you the
entrance to the driveway.”
I turn and head out to my truck, and this time I
hear her footsteps following me.
5
ANNA
It’s the smell of bacon that wakes me up. For a
second after I open my eyes, I can’t remember
where I am—the wooden beams above me are
unfamiliar and definitely not the ceiling of my
crappy studio apartment.
Oh. The cabin.
Yesterday Robert drove me to get my car,
mostly in silence. He’s not exactly what I would
call talkative, but his stoicism didn’t make me
uncomfortable. We don’t exactly have a lot to talk
about.
And I can add cooking to the list of things I
didn’t consider when thinking about Robert Logan.
Last night we had roast chicken and mashed
potatoes, and the only contribution he asked me to
make was peeling the potatoes. I guess I didn’t
exactly think that he was microwaving Hungry Man
meals out here in the middle of nowhere, but I
didn’t think about the fact that he’d have to be able
to cook. And cook well.
Speaking of cooking, I look over at the kitchen,
and Robert is there, back to me, and I hear the
sizzle of the bacon I smell. I sit up on the couch,
stretching. I slept in my clothes—I wasn’t about to
sleep in my underwear or anything that would
remind me of sleeping. Or sharing his bed. As it
was, I tossed and turned through the night with
dreams of him appearing over me and the world
fading into nothing but darkness and pleasure. And
the sight of his ass in those jeans isn’t making those
thoughts go away.
I walk over to the kitchen island, stretching. He
must hear my footsteps. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I say, voice bleary.
Robert points to his right. “There’s coffee.”
“Thank God,” I say under my breath and he
chuckles.
The coffee is good. Way better than the crappy
gas station coffee that I’ve been drinking for the
past year. This reminds me of the coffee that I had
in my office. Back when I had an office, that is.
He sets a plate of eggs and bacon in front of
me, and I almost groan because damn this man can
cook.
“I didn’t finish in the garden yesterday,” he
says. “I’m trying to find a new piece of wood to
work with, so I’ll have you finish some of the
weeding and trimming while I do that.”
“Okay,” I say. Why did I agree to this again?
I’m not opposed to labor, but gardening has never
been my thing. I don’t have a green thumb. I have a
black thumb. My mother used to tease me that I
was allergic to plant life because every plant that
she ever gave me died a painful, dry death.
We’re back to that silence again while he and I
eat. There’s nothing awkward about it, but I’m not
used to this kind of…nothing. No small talk or
meaningless chit chat to fill the silence.
As soon as I finish, Robert sweeps my plate
away and into the sink. He leads me outside, and
I’m once again distracted by his ass. If it looks that
good in jeans, it must look freaking phenomenal out
of them.
Robert hands me a pair of gloves. “The
tomatoes have some weeds that I haven’t been able
to get to.”
“Okay,” I say but he’s already walking away
toward a large pile of what looks like…just trees. A
giant pile of trees. I watch him for a second as he
steps close, looking over one of the trunks. The
focus with which he inspects it—he hasn’t put that
kind of focus on me, but I know that if he did I’d be
completely lost.
The weeds. I turn away before I let myself
become completely fascinated with his process of
choosing something to work with. Weeds. I’m not
exactly sure I know the difference between the
plants and weeds, but I’m not going to admit that to
him.
I kneel down in the dirt, following the path of
the nearest tomato plant down to the ground, and…
oh. I see it. There’s a plant that’s different and
clearly doesn’t belong. Harsh and more brittle
looking. It looks like a plant that’s ready to do
battle. And it does do battle with me. Pulling that
sucker out of the ground is way harder than I
expected.
These are scattered through the patch, and they
seem to have taken root, but I work my way
through them. I’m glad I have the gloves, because
damn I think my hands would be raw without them.
Behind me I hear the sounds of Robert starting
to chop, and I take a look. There’s a tree separated
from the pile now, and he’s got an axe so large I’m
not sure that I’d even be able to lift it. Stroke after
stroke, bringing it up and letting it fall. It’s raw
power and even with his shirt on I can see the way
his body moves and bends with ease and I can’t
help imagining him without the shirt since I’ve
already seen what he’s hiding underneath.
He glances back, and half of his mouth turns
into a smile when he sees me watching. “You
finished?” he asks, coming over and holding the axe
in his hand like it weighs absolutely nothing.
“I think so.”
He nods and points over to the edge of the
garden where there are some supplies. “These
plants are growing really fast. Use that string and tie
the new ends higher onto the stakes so they’ll keep
climbing.”
“Sure.”
“Oh,” he says, smiling, “and you can watch me
any time you like.”
“I wasn’t watching,” I say probably too
quickly.
Robert smirks. “Sure.”
He goes back to chopping, and I’m cursing that
little flip my stomach gave when he smirked. Damn
him for being so sexy. He could have been
completely normal looking and this would be so
much easier. As it is, it hasn’t even been a full day
and I’m practically drooling.
I was supposed to bring him back faster than
this. Logan Sr. isn’t going to be happy about the
fact that I won’t be answering his calls for a month.
I’m hoping that he’ll just assume that I’m working
hard to find him, and not suspect that I’m living
with him. I’m not sure what he’d say, or if he’d still
give me the money if he saw the way I was looking
at his son.
I sneak another glance and my stomach flips
again. Fucking hell. It’s going to be a long month.
But I have to keep my eyes on the goal—bringing
Robert back home and collecting the two hundred
grand. Then back to my life. Nothing is worth
losing that. Not even a body that looks like that.
I grab the string and start to tie up the vines.
I think I might die before this month is up. Every
part of my body hurts and all I was doing was
pulling weeds. I also think I sweat more than I ever
have in my life. And I embarrassed myself once
again when I assumed that Robert didn’t have a
shower. Instead, he handed me a giant towel and a
pair of baggy sweatpants and a shirt and sent me
upstairs with a smirk. “I’m not roughing it out
here,” he said. “I like a shower as much as any
man.” He winked when he said that and I blushed
so quickly that he started to laugh. “Let me know if
you want me to join you.”
I couldn’t even find my voice to say anything,
so I just went upstairs.
His bedroom is gorgeous, the entire second
story of the cabin is one open space, with a giant
bed and bookshelves and a reading area, and
bathroom so big it belongs in a palace and not the
middle of the woods.
I stayed too long in the luxurious hot water, and
it was probably the day’s work but I think it was
the best shower I’ve ever had. Or maybe it was
because his words stuck in my head.
Let me know if you want me to join you.
The thoughts that question raise are naughty.
Oh, I do want him to join me in the shower. I want
to know what Robert Logan looks like when he
showers. How the water looks cascading down
those perfect abs. What delicious treat is hiding
under those tight jeans. Just thinking about his cock
makes my mouth water.
My clothes are soaked through with sweat and I
need to wash them, so I try to disguise the fact that
I’m not wearing any underwear under his clothes.
I’m swimming in them—which helps—and
thankfully the T-shirt isn’t white.
Robert is in the room, and he freezes when he
sees me. A long, slow look up and down my body.
His voice is rough when he speaks. “You look good
in my clothes.”
I touch my hair, which is soaking wet.
“Thanks.” I mean, I look like a drowned rat—I just
saw myself in the mirror—but I don’t have any
doubt that he actually means it. It feels nice…to be
noticed. After everything happened, it felt like I
was suddenly invisible. People who had known me
for years stopped looking at me. I never knew that
you could miss it. But the way Robert looks at me,
he sees me. And even without the fact that I’m
dying to touch him, the attention is intoxicating. I
realize that we’re staring at each other, frozen.
“There’s some food downstairs,” he says.
“Okay.”
It’s dark outside now. Darkness falls quickly in
the mountains, and even though it’s early, I think I
could go to sleep right now.
There’s a plate of pasta on the island and I
practically inhale it before collapsing on the couch.
This couch is comfortable. So comfortable, I’ll just
close my eyes—
I snap awake to a soft tapping sound. It’s
completely dark now; I must have fallen asleep.
But from under the door to Robert’s workshop
there’s a blaze of light, and again the muffled
tapping sound. What time is it?
The clock in the kitchen says it’s three in the
morning. Has he been working since I fell asleep?
I creep closer to the door and listen. No sound
other than the tapping. It’s open a crack already, so
I push it open the rest of the way. Robert’s back is
to me, wearing nothing but soft pajama pants, his
skin with the faint sheen of sweat.
“Robert?” I say it softly so I don’t startle him,
but he whirls around anyway.
His hair his messy and his dark eyes are wild.
Not in a scary way, but like he’s been…caught up.
That focus that I admired earlier today is on me
now, and I’m pinned to the spot.
“I woke you.” It’s not a question.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Have you been working long?”
He drags a hand through his hair. “No. This
sculpture has had me stumped, and I woke up, and
I…knew what it had to be.”
He steps aside and I approach the wood to see
what he’s been doing. I don’t have an artistic bone
in my body, and I wonder what he sees that I don’t.
Robert takes my hand, and I jump at the
contact. His hands are rough against my skin and he
guides my fingers over the wood. “One single line,”
he says. “Looping in and out of itself, never
breaking.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes.”
I can feel his attention shift away from the
sculpture and onto me, and suddenly I become
aware of just how close we’re standing. His hand is
still on mine, and he weaves our fingers together.
He turns, and I turn to him, and I have to look up to
see his face, and I do. Just long enough to see it in
his eyes.
And then he’s kissing me, and oh—
I’ve lost my breath and I can’t get it back and I
don’t want it back, he can have it. Robert’s arms
come around me and he sweeps me against the
wall, pressing me against it.
There’s no hesitation in this kiss, no doubt. He
tilts my face up to his and kisses me deeper, and I
let him. It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed,
and everything in my body feels like it’s glowing.
Like Robert is made of sunlight and he’s pouring it
into me. Pleasure coils down through my gut and I
want more.
It feels like this was meant to happen, like
there’s no barrier between us to stop us from falling
into each other and never coming back. God, I love
the feel of his body against mine, pure heat and fire
and arousal. I’m wet and ready, and he pulls back
for a second for air, and we both freeze.
Robert’s eyes are so dark they’re black, and
he’s staring into mine, through me. His hand is
curled around the back of my neck, thumb along
my jaw, and the tiny stroke of his finger on my skin
feels even more intimate than the kiss.
“This is a bad idea,” I say.
Robert’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Yes, it is.” But
he doesn’t move. We stay there, pressed up against
each other, just breathing.
Finally, there’s a moment. “We should get some
sleep,” he says, and the tension falls out of the air.
“Yeah.” I swallow. No matter how aroused I am
in this moment, this won’t end well. It’s better to
stop now. Before we go too far. He steps away from
me and I’m cold. “Good night.”
I don’t look back as I go to the couch and curl
up under the blankets he’s given me. I close my
eyes, and I force myself to keep them closed as he
turns off the light and I hear the creak of him
walking up the stairs. Just a single day and we
couldn’t keep our hands off each other. And that
single kiss was better than anything I could have
imagined. How am I supposed to make it to thirty,
knowing how that feels?
This is going to be harder than I thought.
6
ROBERT
Fuck. I strip off my pants and step directly into the
shower. There’s no way I can go straight back to
bed after that.
I shouldn’t have kissed her. I’m not sorry that I
did, but it’s like tasting a piece of perfect, delicious,
forbidden fruit. Given what’s standing between us,
she’s right. It’s a bad idea. A bad idea that was the
hottest thing I’ve felt in years and it was only a
kiss.
I hiss out a breath as the cold water hits my
skin, but I’m so aroused the temperature doesn’t
even make a dent. The last thing I wanted to do
was step away from her. I wanted to kiss her again,
and keep kissing her.
I give in to the fantasy, because I know that it’s
going to play behind my eyes all night anyway. My
hand drops to my cock, and I stroke it, letting my
imagination pick up where we left off. I would have
peeled her out of that shirt I gave her, keeping it for
later, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything
sexier than a freshly wet Anna wearing my clothes.
I want to see the skin she’s hiding underneath. I
want to see if her nipples are the same pink as her
blush. I would bet that they are, and I felt them
against my chest while we were kissing. I want my
mouth on them. I want to hear her gasp as I use my
tongue on her skin until she’s aching with arousal.
I brace myself against the shower wall, stroking
faster. I would have licked my way down her
stomach until I was able to peel her out of those
pants. I watched her gardening today, and my hands
on her hips was all I could think about for an hour.
My fingers tracing down the skin of her thighs
and parting them, seeing how wet she is for me and
making her moan with my fingers and tongue.
God—
Pleasure rolls through me as I come, stroking
my shaft through the waves of my orgasm and
letting the freezing water wash it away.
I turn off the water and lean against the shower
wall, catching my breath, the images of Anna still
fresh and vivid in my mind. It’s a bad idea. It’s such
a bad idea. But that kiss isn’t going to be enough.
Anna didn’t come out here looking for someone
to fuck. She came for herself. Whatever my
father’s offering her, she needs. She wasn’t
expecting…me. Who I actually am. And I sure as
hell wasn’t expecting her.
I don’t bother to put my pants back on,
collapsing into bed. Yesterday, I thought I was
making this bet so I could have more time. Time to
find a way out of whatever plan my father has.
Today, after that kiss, I’m not sure what I’m making
the bet for.
The next two days Anna and I circle each other.
We eat together and work alongside each other,
mostly in silence. I tell her what I need her to do
and she does it without complaining. When I asked
her to stay, not only was I buying time, but I didn’t
think she’d make it. I thought she’d say she was
going home after the first day.
Whatever my father has offered her must be
valuable. I’ve had her hauling logs and working in
the garden, washing the dishes and being an extra
set of hands while I chop wood and work on the
sculpture.
We catch each other’s eyes now and then, and I
feel her lips pressed against mine and suddenly I’m
struggling to adjust my jeans. Every night I’ve
made myself come thinking about what it would be
like to fall into bed with her, and it’s barely enough
to keep the lust that surges through me every time I
look at her in check. Barely.
It’s been nice to have another person around,
even if I’m never going to actually admit that I was
lonely. Because I wasn’t. But maybe you don’t
realize that you’re lonely until you have someone
there.
But there’s another question that echoes around
in my mind as I watch the obvious city girl
disappear into the work. What happens if she stays?
What happens to me and the fact that my attraction
to her feels strange and deep and like nothing I’ve
felt before? What happens to her? Will my father
actually give her what he promised, and will it fix
whatever thing she’s desperate for? And lastly,
what happens at the end of thirty days when she’s
still here and I have to keep my promise to go back
to Boston and speak to the man I swore I’d never
set eyes on again?
Today, the third day since the kiss, the day is
hot. I’m sweating through my clothes and I take off
my shirt not long after I start working. I can feel
Anna’s eyes on me, and every time I catch her
staring I give her a wink—I like the way it makes
her blush. But I’m looking too. The way she takes
drinks of water, the way her hips move as she
walks. The way her shirt is clinging to her breasts as
she moves.
By the time I’m finished for the day, I know
that a shower isn’t going to cut it. I turn on the heat
to my giant outdoor bathtub. Not quite a jacuzzi—
there aren’t any jets, but it’s set around the west
side of my house behind the workshop with a
stunning view down the mountain.
I uncover the tub, and it’s already steaming, the
water perfectly still and smooth. I grab some towels
from the house and put them near the ladder before
heading over to the garden where Anna is digging
little holes in neat rows for carrots.
I tap her on the shoulder. “Come with me.”
She puts away her tools and gloves before she
follows me, and I lead her around the house. I
unbutton my jeans as I turn the corner and let them
fall, and I smile as I hear her intake of breath. Good
to know that my ass can still make a woman stop in
her tracks.
I climb up the ladder and sink into the water,
turning to Anna and seeing her staring with her
mouth open. “Hot soak?”
Anna rubs her hands on her pants like she’s
wiping dirt from them, but there’s nothing there. “I
—” She swallows. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Clearly neither do I,” I say, smirking. Leaning
forward onto the ledge that surrounds the tub, I
raise myself out of the water just enough so that she
can see the water lining my naked hips and that
there’s absolutely nothing underneath. She knew
that, but I want her to see. “Are you scared?”
“No,” she says too quickly. Then she’s walking
toward the tub with determination. “Close your
eyes.”
7
ANNA
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I strip off my clothes
quickly and climb the ladder into the tub,
submerging myself so that I’m hidden. Who am I
kidding? This mountain water is crystal clear and I
don’t think much of my body is left to the
imagination, but oh my God, this feels so good. The
water is heated through, and it seeps into my skin, a
welcome relief to the aching in my muscles.
“Okay,” I say.
Robert opens his eyes, and I’m glad the water’s
hot. My skin is already pink and he won’t be able
to see me blush. I’ve barely been able to look him
in the eye the past two days, afraid that I’ll pounce
on him and finish what we started in his workshop.
It doesn’t stop him from looking though, or me for
that matter. There’s a slow smile that crosses his
face when he sees that I’m looking below the
water, and I turn away quickly. “I didn’t know this
tub was here.”
“I put it on this side of the house for the view.”
It’s a gorgeous view, and the sun is falling in the
sky at the perfect angle right now. It’s filtering
through some of the higher trees, casting dappled
shadows across us and the water. I almost wish it
were possible to capture light in a sculpture. I’d ask
him to do one of this view for me.
“Does it hurt?” Robert’s voice is soft, gentle,
and I realize what he’s talking about. The scar. My
back is to him. Some days I can almost forget that
it’s there, until I can’t. I can’t stop my shoulders
from going stiff, and I close my eyes, fighting down
the panic and the memories. “I’m sorry,” Robert
says. “I’ve seen some scars like that before, and I
know they can sometimes cause residual pain.”
“It’s fine,” I say, turning towards him again
mostly to hide it. “It doesn’t bother me.”
Most days it doesn’t. There are some days
when it hurts, almost like what I imagine a phantom
limb would feel like—only mine is reliving the pain
of the accident and everything that it’s caused
since. I cross my arms tightly and look back out
over the view. It’s such a beautiful day, I don’t
want to ruin it with thinking about everything that’s
happened. That’s fun for no one.
Robert stands up off the seat in the water and
crosses the tub to me. I can’t even breathe when
he’s this close. When he’s this close and naked.
“Let me see,” he says. His hands skim my
shoulders, turning me away so he can see my back
again, and I honestly have no idea why I let him. I
know what it looks like. It’s jagged and ugly,
carving a thick line up from my left side up to my
right shoulder.
I stiffen when he touches it. I can’t remember
the last time anyone besides a doctor actually did
that. The few liaisons I’ve had in the past two years
have all avoided my eyes when they’ve seen it, or
asked me to hide it so they wouldn’t have to look at
it during sex. But Robert doesn’t say anything. His
fingers start low on my side, tracing the scar tissue
up and over my spine and up to my shoulder.
“You’re tense.”
“Yes.” It’s all I can do not to say it through my
teeth.
“I can help with that.”
I bark a laugh, about to make a comment about
how there are some things that you can’t help, but I
swallow my words, and my laugh turns into a moan.
Robert’s hands are on my shoulders again, this time
pulling, pressing, massaging them into relaxation
and damn, it feels good. I used to get regular
massages to help with the scar pain and stress. I
can’t afford that now. But I might just have to pay
Robert to do this because his hands were made for
this.
Leaning back into him, I close my eyes. This is
perfect. I didn’t realize how tight my muscles were
from bending over, working the garden and helping
him with his sculpture. His hands work their way
down my back, gliding and stretching over my ribs,
straying almost to my stomach. He stops short of
being in more sexy territory, but my senses
suddenly narrow to a pinpoint.
Some part of me knew that if I got in this tub
we would end up here, and even though it could be
bad for both of us, I still made that choice. I
breathe out again, leaning further into him.
“Anna,” his voice is rough and dark. “I’m going
to kiss you. If you don’t want me to, tell me now.”
I don’t say anything. I turn before he has the
chance and turn my face up to his, and then we’re
kissing, and I’m all fire. I’m like the forest in
summer, just ready to catch the spark, and now that
I have, it’s going to take something monumental to
quench the fire. I’m pressed up against him now,
and I can feel him. All of him and god he’s big. So
big. and I can’t even think about that because his
hand is tangling in my hair, tilting my head further
back so he can kiss me more deeply. It’s an
overwhelming kiss, full of pent up tension and
need.
Robert’s other hand is on my back, pressing us
closer. Aching want is running through me,
gathering in my pussy and I don’t care that this
shouldn’t happen. It’s going to. I want it to. I pull
back to breathe, gasping, and Robert doesn’t miss a
beat. He pulls my head back even further, running
lips, tongue, and teeth along my neck and the line
of my jaw. Even in the steaming heat of the tub, I
shiver. My nipples are hard, aching against his
chest. Exquisite torture.
I can’t move, not with his hand cradling my
head like this. Pulling back to look at me, he meets
my eyes, and they’re as dark as they were in the
workshop—something feral and wild in them.
“There will be more of this,” he says, gently
moving his hips against mine and drawing attention
to the fact that he’s rock hard between us, “and
there will be times for it to be slow and gentle. This
isn’t going to be any of those things.” He leans
close and presses his lips against my ear. “I’m going
to take you hard, because I haven’t been able to
stop thinking about how my cock is going to feel
inside you.”
I shiver at the raw truth in his words, and I want
it. I wanted it that first night in the workshop when
he was wild and untamed and dizzy with creativity,
and I want it now that he’s dark and focused and
has me captive in his arms. So I close my eyes, and
arch my body into him, and say, “Yes.”
8
ROBERT
“Yes.”
Anna’s word is barely a breath but unlocks a
roaring wave of lust and dominance in me, and I
barely recognize the sound that comes from me.
Pure, raw, animal. I lift Anna by the hips, turning
her and placing her on the ledge that surrounds the
tub. That perfect ass is in front of me and I take the
time to stroke it, watching her hips wiggle as I do. I
wonder what it would be like to spank her and see
that ass as bright as her cheeks when she blushes.
God, that would be incredible.
I lift her leg up onto the ledge with her so that
she’s spread for me, and run my hand between her
legs. Even having been in the water, I can feel her
slickness. I was already hard, but feeling how wet
her pussy is makes me even harder. I’m lightheaded
with arousal. I wasn’t lying. I can’t wait for this to
be gentle.
Fitting my cock against her entrance, I push
inside in one long stroke. She’s wet enough that she
takes me easily, and my vision goes white with
pleasure. Walls of heat surround my cock, and
they’re fluttering, spasming around me because I’m
too big for her and she’s trying to adjust. She’s so
tight, it’s better than I ever could have imagined.
My fantasies have nothing on this reality. Seeing
Anna spread out in front of my mountains, her
pussy filled to the brim with my cock, is an image
I’m never going to forget.
I can see her breathing, panting as she squeezes
me, trying to get used to me. I place my hand on
her back, right over her scar, and hold her in place.
I don’t want her moving right now. I told her I was
going to take her for a reason. Right now, she’s
mine.
I pull back, waiting only a second before I
plunge in again, and I groan because the way her
pussy takes me in makes me want to come right
now. But not yet. Not that fast. In. Again, again,
and again. Deeper. I press in farther until I’m inside
her to the hilt. Anna is breathing hard, little gasps
that make whatever’s left of my blood run straight
for my cock. There’s no sound out here except for
her, and the slap of my balls against her pussy.
Fuck.
My entire world is turning to pleasure. If I had
the stamina, I would fuck her forever just like this.
That slow burn builds at the base of my spine, and I
throw my head back taking in the sky as I fuck
harder, faster, driving myself into her until I’m
grunting with the effort and Anna is gasping with
pleasure. Her hand creeps between her legs and I
let it. She’s moaning now, and I can’t breathe with
the pleasure of it all.
Suddenly her pussy tightens, locking me in a
vice and Anna cries out, coming, pouring her
orgasm all over my cock, shaking where she’s lying
on the wood, and I’m on the edge of coming. I
thrust in one more time and pull back just as
pleasure explodes through my body. My vision
disappears again as I come, painting her skin with
my seed, claiming her, showing her she’s mine. I
stroke my cock until after I’m finished, letting
every shudder of the orgasm work its way through
me before I stop.
Anna looks limp and spent, gasping for breath
as she slides back into the water. She looks at me,
and I can see the impressions of the wood on her
breasts where I pressed her down, and just like that
I’m hard again. Completely and fully hard. It’s like
I’m a teenager again who’s found porn for the first
time. But Anna is better than any porn I’ve ever
found.
She smiles at me, the slow, sleepy smile of
satisfaction. I sit on the seat in the tub and she
floats over to me, straddling me and wrapping her
arms around my shoulders. She kisses me gently.
“That,” she says between kisses, “was amazing.”
“It was.”
She moves her hips, brushing against my cock
again. “And yet you’re still hard.”
“I’m hard again,” I say, pulling her against me.
“Every time I look at you.”
She smirks. “I suppose I should try to take care
of that.” Looking down, she reaches between us
and grabs my cock, stroking it once, twice, a third
time.
“Feel free, sweetheart,” I say. “My cock likes
you.”
And then she does something that I do not
expect. Anna dives down under the water, her
mouth taking the head of my cock with ease,
sucking and swirling her tongue around. I curse so
loudly it echoes through the trees. “Holy fuck.”
She surfaces to breathe, water dripping down
her face, her hair soaking and looking sexy as hell.
“There will be more of this,” she says, squeezing
my cock and mimicking my words. “And there will
be times when I’m on my knees, ready to worship
your cock for as long as you can last. But this is not
that time. I’m going to take you down my throat
and you’re going to come again.”
Never in my life have I come again so quickly,
but I’m not going to say no to this. In fact, I’m not
sure that I’m able to speak at all. Anna sinks below
the surface again, and she takes me down. Into her
mouth and down and back so that I can feel her
throat and—
Shit.
The head of my cock slips into her throat with a
silent pop and she swallows. I’m being squeezed
like a vice and pleasure is running through my
veins, being pulled from every part of my body,
along my veins and towards my cock. I’m not going
to last.
Another break for air, and her hands slide along
my skin, keeping me right on the edge. She grins,
like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and
dives down again. This time she’s sucking from the
moment she takes me in, and I grab the edge of the
tub, trying to hold myself still and not move—
resisting the urge to push my cock further, faster.
The slow suction is glorious, and I feel the orgasm
start low in my gut. I can’t tell Anna that it’s
happening, she won’t hear me. But she doesn’t pull
back. The second my cock jerks in her mouth she
takes me deeper, and I curse again.
I come deep inside her mouth, jet after jet and
she takes it all under the water. It’s insane, and by
far the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.
And she doesn’t come up until I’m finished, spent,
and in total awe. She floats to the other side of the
tub and sits like nothing happened, a devilish little
smirk on her face. Wiping her mouth with the back
of her hand, she smiles. “What are you staring at?”
There are few times in my life when I’ve been
speechless, and this is one of them. I knew sex with
Anna would be amazing, but I didn’t expect this. I
didn’t expect to have my world turned on its head.
I stand up and hold out my hand and she takes it. I
lead her out of the tub, and as soon as she hits the
ground I sweep her off her feet and into my arms.
Fuck the towels.
Anna gasps, “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere that’s less wet and more bed,” I
say. “All I’ve been able to do is think about your
body and now I want to explore it.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and
presses her lips against my collar bone, licking the
water from my skin. My body responds with need
like fire, and I shoulder the door open. I can’t get
up the stairs fast enough. My bed is a mess and I
don’t even care that she’ll see it this way. I lay her
down on my sheets and she’s spread out in front of
me like a feast that I have the pleasure of eating to
my heart’s content.
I’m going to enjoy this.
9
ANNA
The way Robert is staring down at me, like I’m a
present that he’s about the unwrap, makes me want
to cover myself. I try to cross my arms, but Robert
leans over me, grabbing my wrists before I can
manage. “I don’t think so.”
“But—”
“No,” he growls. “Now that you’re really in my
bed, I want to see all of you.”
I shiver. “Now that I’m really in your bed?”
Robert’s mouth meets my skin, roaming across
my neck. “You’ve been here every night with me.
Every night I’ve come thinking about you here,
underneath me. And now that I finally have you
here, I’m not letting you go until I’m finished with
you.”
Closing my eyes, I focus on the feeling of his
mouth on my skin. He slips down, and his mouth
covers my nipple, hardening it instantly. “God,
yes.”
He chuckles, sucking deeper. His tongue circles
and licks, and every movement shoots straight
down to my clit. I’m wet again and aching for more
pleasure. I’ve never felt anything like what I felt in
that tub, and now that we’ve given in, I’m pissed
that we even waited three days.
Robert moves to my other breast, and I arch
against his body. The way he’s using his mouth is
slow and languorous. My wrists are still pinned, and
Robert’s legs are straddling my hips. I can’t move,
and I know he’s serious about not letting me go
until he’s finished. Just that thought and I can feel
myself getting wetter. He makes a sound low in his
throat, and I shudder as his teeth graze my skin. He
moves back and forth, using his mouth until I’m
delirious with it. I’m writhing underneath him, and I
can feel his cock hardening between my legs. I
want more of that. I want more of him. I want him
anywhere and everywhere and more, more, more.
“Robert, please.” I’m begging now.
I can feel his laughter against my skin, but he
doesn’t move. His fingers just tighten on my wrists,
and he bites a little harder. I gasp, and it turns into a
moan. “Please.” It’s nothing more than a breath.
“Tell me what you want.”
I roll my hips up into his, because I don’t have
the words. Everything is sense and feeling and
arousal. He’s looking down at me, and I capture his
mouth with mine, drawing him in. Robert kisses me
like he’s a dying man and my mouth is water. Our
tongues dance together, and I’m aching with need.
I’m so wet I can feel it on my thighs. Two can play
at this game, and I capture his bottom lip with my
teeth, biting gently. He pulls away, mischief in his
eyes. “Ask me.”
“I thought you wanted to explore,” I say back
with a smirk.
“Maybe I want to explore how much you’ll beg
me to taste you.”
My pussy clenches in response to his words.
The way he kissed me, I can only imagine what
that’s going to feel like, and I have no problem
asking. “Taste me.”
His lips brush mine, and I’m shaking with
anticipation. His eyes are filled with fire and lust so
hot I can feel it. “Tell me you want my tongue in
your pretty pink cunt.”
“Yes,” I breathe.
Robert doesn’t move. He’s perfectly still. “Say
it.”
“I want your tongue in my pretty pink cunt.”
My cunt that’s pulsing with my heartbeat and so
wet I think I’m going to leave a stain on his sheets.
“Good girl.”
He puts his mouth on my skin and drags it down
my body, licking between my breasts and lower.
Lower. Finally releasing my wrists, he grabs my
thighs and pushes them apart. I can feel his breath
on me, and I’m holding my own, waiting for that
first touch. It comes gently, just the tiniest brush of
his tongue on the tip of my clit. A little more, and
then a little more. Again, he’s taking his time. Licks
all around and then the tip of my clit between his
lips, pulling pleasure from deep in my gut.
I don’t know how long I can last with him
teasing me like this. I’m already warmed up, ready
to go. These barely-there touches are driving me
mad, and he knows it to. I grab onto the bed sheets,
because I know that if I try to touch him, to make it
go faster, he’ll just slow down.
Robert sucks hard and uses his teeth lightly, and
my world disappears. I can’t see, blind and
overcome with pleasure as the orgasm blows
through me like a flash flood. Sheer, pure, sensation
spiraling up through me and out. I think I might be
screaming, I’m not sure. I can’t think or breathe or
speak, just feel.
I come back to myself, the orgasm leaving me
so quickly it feels like I collapse back onto the bed.
“Fuck.”
“We’re not done,” Robert says, lips still
brushing my clit. “You taste good, baby girl.” He
slides his hands under my thighs and pulls me closer
against his mouth. This time he’s not gentle and not
timid. His mouth consumes me. It feels like his
tongue is everywhere. On me and inside me,
stroking and teasing and drawing me back to the
edge. “Robert,” I say, voice straining, “I can’t.” I
don’t think I can. It’s too much.
“You will.” There’s no argument in his tone,
and he sets up a rhythm, a swirling, suction that
makes the space behind my eyes sparkle. Good
God, I’m going to come again. I can’t help myself
—my hands find their way into Robert’s hair,
pulling him closer, urging him faster. His tongue
strokes faster, pushes deeper until he’s almost to
my g-spot. God, he has a long tongue. It’s amazing.
And then it’s back at my clit and I’m begging him
again to please give me more, and he does. Faster,
and harder, and suddenly the orgasm swells through
my core and blooms outward, and the world is
gone. I’m drowning in a sea of bliss that’s pure
light. It’s sizzling through my veins and I arch off
the bed, screaming it out. Robert’s mouth is still on
me, and he won’t let me go. The waves hit me
again and again, and they crest over me and when
they disappear there’s nothing left of me but a
puddle.
There are little spasms running through my
body, and Robert is still buried between my legs,
licking me and causing little aftershocks. I can’t
seem to catch my breath, and when he pulls himself
away and up beside me, he’s smiling. “I like it
when you scream for me.”
“I like it too.”
He kisses me, slipping his tongue between my
lips, just like he did with my pussy, and I can taste
myself on him. God, that was amazing. So amazing
that I’m fading into sleep. I can’t seem to keep my
eyes open. “I thought it was supposed to be the guy
who always falls asleep.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, pulling the blankets
over the two of us. “I’ve never much cared for
traditions.”
I want to laugh, but I’m already being pulled
under.
Robert’s fingers are the first thing I feel when I
wake up. Just the first sensation as I come to the
surface. Just a gentle brushing across my stomach,
lazy and unhurried. Next, his body behind me—
hard length and heat. I take a deeper breath, and his
fingers tighten.
Lips on my neck. “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.” My voice is scratchy and rough, and I
feel like I’ve run a marathon. But at the same time I
feel rested in a way I haven’t in…years. I turn over,
and I’m face to face with him. Robert’s eyes are
clear and sharp, and I don’t think he’s slept at all.
“What time is it?”
“Late. I’m honestly not sure.”
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
He frowns. “Why are you sorry?”
I blink my eyes a few times, trying to clear the
sleep from them. “I don’t know, I just—”
“Trust me, Anna,” he laughs, “no man is going
to be upset that they made you come so hard that
you had to go to sleep.” Even after everything, I
blush. He chuckles, but his eyes are serious. “But I
have a question.”
I swallow—I don’t think I’m going to like this.
“Okay.”
“Tell me about the scar.”
I’m suddenly cold, and I have goosebumps.
“Please,” I say, ducking my head into his chest,
“not that.”
“It has something to do with why you’re
working for my father, doesn’t it.” Again, it’s not a
question. I nod. “How much money is he paying
you?”
My voice is muffled against his chest, but it’s
comfortable here. “Two hundred thousand dollars.”
Robert leans me back against the pillows,
pinning me with his body. There’s no escape from
his gaze here, and he puts a finger under my chin,
lifting my gaze to his. “Why do you need that much
money? What happened?”
I don’t hear any judgment in his voice, only
curiosity and concern. Can I really trust him with
this? The answer is deep in my gut: yes. But it’s still
terrifying. I clear my throat. “I’m not really a P.I.,”
I say. “I mean, I have my license, but it’s not what
I’m good at. I was kind of forced into it. I was a
lawyer.”
“What kind of lawyer?”
“A prosecutor,” I swallow against the pain
welling up in my chest. “And I’m really good at it.”
He doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to
tell my story, his hands tracing absent patterns on
my shoulders.
“A long time ago—maybe seven years now—I
was in a car accident. Drunk driver, ran me off the
road into a guardrail, hit and run. It’s how I got the
scar.” I shiver, shaking my head to clear the taste of
memory and fear from my mouth. “Our cars were
pinned together while we lost control, and I’ll never
forget his face. But we never found him.
“Two years ago a case comes across my desk.
Drunk driver, hit and run. A couple had been
injured in the accident, one was paralyzed. No one
was at the scene, but they arrested the man they’d
thought had done it. We were charging him with it,
but it was a hard case, and there was no hard
evidence proving that this guy was at the scene.
And when I got the file on the man we were
charging, it was him. It was the man that hit me. His
name is David Morris, and as soon as I saw that it
was him, I knew that he was guilty. Because he’d
done the same thing to me.” I swallow. “A couple
of days before the trial starts, we get some new
evidence. Paint color scraped from the victim’s car
that matched Morris’s vehicle. It was the smoking
gun that I needed to prove that he was guilty, and I
went after him with everything I had.”
I look up at Robert, and he looks pissed. His
jaw is clenched, body taut with tension against
mine. “I hope you got the bastard.”
“Someone knew,” I said. “Someone knew I
wanted this guy to go to jail. One of his friends,
some connection that was trying to protect him. I
don’t know who, but the paint sample was a fake. It
came out in the middle of the trial, and everything
fell apart. Morris got off on a mistrial, and I was
accused of manipulating evidence.” I have to stop
and blink the tears away from my eyes. “I lost
everything. My whole career, all of my friends. No
one talks to someone who’s corrupt like that. No
law firm would touch me. It took a long time, but I
managed to scrape by doing simple P.I. work. I was
hoping I could find out who set me up, but I’m not
good enough. I’m not. I need the money so I can
hire a real P.I. and get my name cleared. I can have
my life back.”
Robert still looks pissed, but his eyes are softer
now. He strokes his fingers along my cheek. “I’m
sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s my own fault,” I say. “I was too desperate
for him to be punished, and I let my guard down. I
should have vetted that evidence, and I didn’t.”
“You were framed. That’s not your fault.”
I go back and forth in my head with that
argument, but in the end the blame lies with me. If
I’d been smarter, I wouldn’t be in this situation. But
then again, I wouldn’t be here either.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says.
“It’s kind of nice,” I close my eyes. “I haven’t
really had anyone to tell the whole story to until
now.”
“Glad I could help.”
We rest in silence for a few minutes, the
invisible sensation of closeness binding us together.
“It’s late,” he says. “I should have made you dinner
hours ago.”
He starts to pull away, and I stop him. “If I told
you I wasn’t that kind of hungry, what would you
say?”
“Oh?” Robert raises an eyebrow. “I’d say I’m
always that kind of hungry.”
The sudden power in his tone makes me go
liquid, and I melt back into the bed. Robert reaches
behind him and I hear the opening and closing of a
drawer. He reaches between us, rolling a condom
on. There’s nothing fancy about the way he takes
me. He doesn’t even move except to drape my leg
over his hip. And then he’s pushing inside and I let
out a moan. I’m still sensitive from the brutal way
he took me earlier, and I wouldn’t have it any other
way. I want to remember that. But even in the few
short hours since he last fucked me, I’ve forgotten
how big he is. He’s sliding in and in and in and he’s
finally in to the hilt and I’m so full that I can’t
breathe.
I move with him, pushing back against him, and
our rhythm is smooth and slow. He puts his hand on
my ass, guiding me, moving me in exactly the right
way so that he hits all of me. Every. Single. Time. I
bite my lip to keep myself quiet, because it doesn’t
quite feel like the time to be loud.
It doesn’t make sense how good this feels. He’s
so deep and pressing deeper, faster, and I can feel
my orgasm approaching from far away. Like a little
spark on the horizon of a wildfire that’s racing
towards me.
Robert’s hand grips my thigh and holds me still
as he picks up the pace, thrusting harder, and I’m
already well on my way to coming. His breathing is
short and ragged, and I know neither of us are
going to hold out for very long. I squeeze down on
him and he groans, driving into me harder, and
suddenly I’m there. He rolls his hips, and the tip of
him hits that spot deep inside, and my pleasure
breaks open. I have to hold onto him, shuddering
and shaking as I come, loving how deep this
pleasure goes.
I feel him come too, and he moans against my
throat. “I want to fuck you everywhere,” he says.
“Where?” I ask, catching my breath. “In the
garden?”
“As fun as that would be,” he says, “I don’t
want to kill my plants.” Rolling over so he’s pinning
me to the bed, he’s looking down at me again like
he’s a wolf and I’m the prey. But it doesn’t scare
me. I like this wolf. The gentle man who comforted
me has stepped into the background, still there, but
now filled with the powerful fire that ignites my
own. I’m still impaled on his cock and he knows it,
moving his hips to remind me. “No,” he says. “I
want to take every part of you. I want to fuck those
gorgeous tits of yours. I want you to come
screaming while I’m buried in your ass. I want to
see my cock bulge in your throat. And most
importantly, I want that sweet cunt of yours every
night.”
He can feel how my pussy clenches at his
words, and the way my breath hitched at the carnal
way that he said those things. “That’s a lot of
ground to cover,” I say, swallowing. I’ve never
down some of those things. But with Robert, I’d be
willing to try.
“We’ve got twenty-six days left before you
drag me back to prison,” he says. “We can make
the most of them.”
“Two orgasms,” I say.
“What?”
I let the corner of my mouth tip up into a smile.
“Guarantee me two orgasms every day.”
He laughs. “If you want to aim low, that’s your
choice.”
“I haven’t slept with anyone in months, and I
haven’t come more than once a day for a long time.
Today was an exception.”
“You have some catching up to do. And in that
case I’ll do you one better,” he says. “I’ll guarantee
you at least two orgasms a day.”
I squeeze down on his cock and watch his smile
falter with the feeling. “You have a deal,” I say.
10
ROBERT
The ride down the mountain is usually tedious, but
I’ve barely been able to keep my eyes on the road
because watching Anna is so funny. She doesn’t
like the bumps or the steep road, and every time we
hit the smallest gully she grabs for the dashboard. I
have a mind to pull her into my lap and fuck her
while sitting in the front seat of my truck. That
could be fun.
I haven’t given Anna either of her orgasms
today, so everything I see is a possible way to make
her moan. I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of…
preoccupation with someone. At the same time, it
doesn’t feel that way. I like seeing her happy. I like
seeing her flushed and out of breath with my name
on her lips. And I want her to have her life back. I
was gritting my teeth so hard that my jaw ached,
and it was only the fact that Anna was in my arms
that I didn’t jump out of bed, track down this David
Morris guy, and kick his ass so hard he’d never sit
comfortably. I don’t ever want to see those kind of
tears in Anna’s eyes again.
Those weren’t nothing. Those tears came from
deep pain, and I’d be a fool to think otherwise.
The tiny town at the base of the mountain isn’t
anything special. They have a general store, a bar,
and one clothing store that sells mostly flannel and
jeans. But Anna can’t keep washing the same pair
of panties every night, and we need some food
essentials. There’s only one stop light in this town,
so you can park almost anywhere and walk. I send
her over to the clothing store while I hit up the
general. I need milk and cheese and pasta. I may be
off the grid, but I’m not that kind of hermit. I’m not
about to buy a cow because I don’t want to worry
about feeding it or milking it. Buying the milk is just
simpler.
I grab what we need and head over to the
clothing store, but Anna is nowhere in sight.
“She’s in the dressing room,” the bored teenage
girl behind the counter says.
“Thanks.”
The ‘dressing room’ is a single stall in the back
of the store. I can see Anna’s bare feet under the
door. I knock softly. “Any luck?”
The door opens and she pulls me inside quickly.
“I don’t know. I don’t usually wear this kind of
stuff.”
“This kind of stuff?” I ask. “What kind of stuff
is that?”
“I don’t know,” she says, gesturing to the blue
flannel shirt that she’s wearing. “Mountain stuff.”
The shirt fits her well, even if it’s tight in the
chest. I touch the button that’s about to burst, and it
pops open. “I like this.”
“Of course you do.” She laughs, but that’s
probably not very practical.
“I don’t know,” I say, undoing the buttons on
the shirt slowly to reveal her bra—a tempting black
lace concoction and that makes me hard just
looking at it. “I think it’s very practical. I can pop
these buttons open in seconds.”
“I’m trying on the jeans too.”
I look down, and I get even harder. The dark
wash jeans hug her hips snugly, and damn it’s a
pretty sight. “If you’re looking to get work done in
those jeans, it’s not going to happen.”
“Why not?”
I back her against the wall of the dressing room.
“Because all those jeans make me want to do is
peel you out of them.” I pop the button on the jeans
and slip my hand inside, down and into her panties
and she gasps. “Shhh,” I say softly. “You’re about
to get your first orgasm of the day, and you
wouldn’t want the sales girl to hear.”
“Now?” she squeaks.
“Now. Whenever and wherever I choose. I
promised you those orgasms. I’m a man of my
word.”
Anna’s body has betrayed her. She can pretend
that she’s horrified, but she’s soaking wet, and my
middle finger slips inside her almost too easily. She
whimpers, but presses her lips together. “Good
girl,” I whisper, adding another finger. I curl them
back until I find the rough patch that’s her g-spot,
and press down. Her eyes flutter closed, and my
jeans are tight now to the point of pain. I love
watching her like this, and I’m going to fuck her
hard enough to come, whether or not that sales girl
can hear.
I thrust my fingers up into her, and she rises up
on her toes. Perfect. Using one foot, I widen her
stance, so that she’s on edge, the only thing keeping
her balanced is my fingers in her cunt. I add
another one for good measure, and then I start to
fuck her. I move hard and fast, and Anna’s eyes go
wide. She bites her lip, and her face is bright red
with both mortification and arousal.
Slow and steady, I work her pussy in smooth
strokes. Anna clenches around me. Her pussy grips
my fingers like she never wants to let them go.
She’s holding her breath, trying not to make the
sounds that she desperately wants to. “Let go,” I
say. “Let it happen.”
She shakes her head as I speed up my pace. I
press her back against the wall of the dressing
room, fucking her faster. She moans, and it’s loud
and her flush turns an even brighter red. It sends
blood straight to my dick, but Anna is tense. Way
too tense. I can feel that she needs to come, but
she’s not quite there.
I cover her mouth with my other hand, and she
relaxes. She trusts me to keep her quiet, and I do.
She’s suddenly squirming on my hand, body
begging for more as I drive her closer and closer to
the edge. I can hear her muffled moans as I rub my
fingers across her g-spot, stroking, fluttering,
stretching them out as I pull out and push in,
overwhelming her pussy with sensation. And then,
using my thumb, I press down on her clit, sliding
around it in a circle, and she comes. Her orgasm
gushes out onto my hand and she’s shaking, the
wall of the dressing room trembling just a little.
When she’s finished, I slide my hands out of her
jeans. I make sure that her eyes are on mine before
I lick my fingers clean. It’s the hottest thing, and
now I’m going to die if my cock gets any harder.
“Orgasm number one,” I say.
She melts against me, limp and sated. “Damn
you.”
I laugh, tilting her head back. “Damn me. But
you liked it.”
Anna blushes. “I did.” Then she pauses, and her
hand strokes across the erection straining against
my jeans. “And it feels like you’d like it too.”
Her clever fingers undo my belt, and my cock
springs out, fully hard. The way she sinks to her
knees has me instantly ready to come. Her tongue
flicks out, licking the underside of my head, and
now I’m the one fighting back a groan. The tip of
my cock disappears into her mouth and I’m
encased in perfect, velvet heat. Anna knows what
she’s doing to me. She pulls back, grinning up at me
as she licks along my shaft, and she doesn’t break
eye contact as she sucks my balls between her lips.
Holy. Fucking. Fuck.
I’ve never met a woman who’s this good at
giving head and seems to enjoy it as much as she
does. I’m gripping the top of the dressing room
now, holding back the sounds I want to make.
Payback is a bitch. I’m so close that I’m grinding
my teeth together, and as her mouth sinks down
onto me I know I’m going to lose it. That’s it. I
weave my fingers into her hair, and grab my cock
with the other. “Open,” I growl.
She does, and I’m stroking, pulling on my cock,
and the orgasm explodes through me, violent and
sudden. I watch as her mouth fills with my come,
burst after burst until I’m empty, pleasure coursing
through my veins with my heartbeat. I don’t even
have to tell Anna to swallow what I gave her, she
does. Sealing her lips, I see her throat move, and
then she licks her lips. “God damn, Anna.”
“I knew you’d like it.”
Tucking my cock back into my pants, I zip them
up. I pull out my wallet and hand her a card. “Buy
whatever you want. Working clothes, and clothes
like that shirt that are so tight I want to rip them off
you.”
“You’re leaving?”
I grip her upper arms, holding her still while I
take a kiss. I run my tongue across her lips and
press it inside her like I want to be doing elsewhere.
“If I don’t walk out of this store right now,” I tell
her, “I’m going to fuck you so hard this little stall
will break. So buy the clothes, and meet me at the
bar across the street so I can take you home and
fuck you where you can scream to your heart’s
content.”
She shivers in my arms, and her pupils go wide.
Her lips part just a little, and I love that. She’s
imagining what’s going to happen, and so am I. I
step away and exit the booth before I change my
mind and fuck her right there. Just being around
Anna makes me so hard, I can’t believe it. I wasn’t
joking when I told her we’re going to cover every
base. My imagination is running wild with all the
possibilities.
I step into Valley Tavern and take a deep
breath. It’s comforting and familiar. I come in a
couple times a month and have a beer when I’m in
town, and once before I made time to sneak off
with a certain blonde bartender. That’s not going to
happen this time. But, as luck would have it, Lucy
is working today. The minute she sees me, her face
blooms into a smile. “Hey, handsome.” She leans
over the bar, intentionally displaying her generous
breasts. “Give me ten minutes, and I’ll take a
break.”
I shake my head. “Not today. Just my regular
today.”
“Why not?” she asks.
It won’t serve either of us to lie, so I just say it.
“I’m with someone.”
She smirks. “Right. The hermit mountain man
has found himself a mountain woman? I don’t think
so.” She reaches across the bar and takes my hand.
“Come on, baby. It’s been a while since I’ve had a
ride and I need a mountain man like you to show
me how it’s done.”
“Lucy, stop.”
She keeps pulling me toward the door where we
went last time—the back parking lot where her car
and expectations are waiting. But right now the
door is filled with Anna’s short frame. Shit. Her
eyes are flat steel. “He told you to let go.”
Lucy’s got a good four inches on Anna, and she
straightens, looking down her nose. “Who the fuck
are you?”
A slow smile crosses Anna’s face. “I’m the
mountain woman.”
11
ANNA
The kick of jealousy in my chest isn’t what I
expected. The woman in front of me is everything
that I’m not. She’s taller than me, skinnier, and her
tight shirt shows off a set of breasts that I’ll never
come close to. The familiar way she’s touching
Robert tells me that they’ve slept together before,
but I don’t care about that. I care about the fact
that he asked her to let go, and she didn’t.
“Take your hand off of him. Right now.”
The woman—I head Robert call her Lucy—
sneers. She looks back at Robert. “Her? You’re
with her?”
“I am,” he says. No doubt. No hesitation. Then
he takes her wrist with his other hand and pulls her
off him. “I think I’ll skip the beer.” He walks
straight to me, and leans down to kiss me. It’s deep
and fast and I’m so surprised that I almost drop the
bag with my new clothes in it. “Let’s go.”
I nod, and follow him, taking only a second to
look back at Lucy, who’s staring at the two of us
with an open mouth and daggers in her eyes.
Robert is walking so fast that I can barely keep up,
and he climbs into the truck without a word. It’s
only after I shut the door that he pulls me across
the bench seat and takes my face in his hands. “I
didn’t go in there looking for that.”
“Were you worried I would think that?” He
doesn’t have to say anything. The look on his face
tells me. “I saw enough to know otherwise,” I say.
“Besides, you don’t strike me as a man who would
do that.”
“Never.”
“And I’m not the kind of woman who cares that
you’ve been with other people before me. I’ve
been with other people too.”
He stares at me for a second. “I slept with her
once. I usually go to the bar when I come into town
and one day I just…I needed something. Anything.
We had sex in her car. It was a nice change of pace.
But I think this one is better.”
“Good.” I hold up the bag of clothes so he can
see it. “I got some things. We’ll see how many you
decide to destroy before we have to come back.”
“Or you could just go naked. There’s no one
around to see you up there.” He starts the truck and
heads down the main road of the town back toward
the mountain.
I snort a laugh. “I can’t do work naked. There
would be a lot of dirt in places it has no business
being.”
“Who said anything about work?” he says. “I
could just have you there, naked so that I could
look at you. Trust me, the work would go faster
because I’d want to get it done.”
I make a sarcastic face. “Are you sure you
could control yourself long enough for the work to
get done at all?”
“Why don’t we try it and find out?”
“Maybe,” I say, “but you’re so close to
finishing the sculpture. I think you should finish
that first before…anything else.”
“But—”
I place a hand on his arm. “I promise I’ll give
you a good show if you finish it first.”
He takes his eyes off the road for a second to
grin at me. “What kind of show?”
“What, and ruin the surprise? I don’t think so.”
I can tell he wants to press for more, but he
doesn’t. But he does drive a little faster.
“Trust me,” I say. “You’ll enjoy it.”
Robert disappeared into the workshop so fast I
swear I saw some skid marks. I unload the groceries
and fold my new clothes while I hear the soft
sounds of carving. And soon after, I hear no sounds
at all. I creep up to the workshop door and peek
inside. Robert is staining the sculpture, painting the
pale wood a golden brown, the liquid dripping
down it like honey and pooling in the tray beneath
it.
I push inside. “Almost done?”
“Yes,” he says. “This has to dry, and it will get
another coat in the morning.”
Circling the sculpture, I take it all in. Swirling
loops that are one connected line. The surface
morphs from smooth to flowers to stars to hands
and back to smooth again. I finish my circuit and
look down at the signature. “Wait a second,” I say,
seeing the name carved into the wood. “L.R.
Mackenzie. You’re L.R. Mackenzie?”
Robert suddenly looks awkward. “Yeah. I
thought you knew.”
My mouth hangs open. “Knew that you were
one of the most famous sculptors in America? No, I
didn’t know that.”
He smiles, suddenly seeming reserved. “There’s
a reason you couldn’t find me through my money
easily. I haven’t used my father’s money for
anything but charity in probably ten years.
Everything is under Mackenzie. It’s my mother’s
maiden name.”
I realize something. “I told you my story about
your father. You haven’t told me yours.”
Robert’s eyes darken. “No, I haven’t.”
“Are you going to?”
His jaw clenches, and he takes a deep breath.
He’s silent for so long that I think he may not
answer me, but he finally does. “It’s not just one
thing. It’s a lot of things. For one, he cheats on my
mother. All the time and without restraint. I know
of at least one half-sibling. And yet my mother
stays. She’s either oblivious or she loves him too
much to leave, and every time I think about it I—”
Robert breaks off, and I can feel the anger
coiling inside him. “And I worked for him for a
while. I know what he does to people. He squeezes
them, manipulates them until they’re indebted to
him and doesn’t let them go. Every time it’s
something more, and I didn’t like the fact that he
thought ruining people’s lives was an acceptable
business practice.”
“So you left?”
He shrugs. “I tried. By that time I had been
experimenting with art—privately, because my
father doesn’t believe that art is a real career. I’d
sold a couple of sculptures, and I’d had offers for
commissions. So I took those on and left the family
business. I didn’t have the funds to do what I
wanted to. To come out to some place like this. But
I separated myself from the family as much as I
could. And I eventually bought this place. Last year
when I left I swore I’d never go back to any of
them.”
There’s a knot in the pit of my stomach. “Until I
showed up on your doorstep.”
“Until that.”
There’s nothing I can say to him, because he’s
my ticket to freedom. I can’t say that he doesn’t
have to go back because he does. We made a deal,
and even though his father may be the devil, I have
a contract with the devil and I need the money he’s
offering.
Robert puts his hands on my shoulders and
slides them down my arms. “But I’m glad he sent
you, because if he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be about to
take you upstairs and fuck you.”
“But—” I point at the sculpture.
He shakes his head. “It’s as done as it’s going to
get tonight. And you promised me a show.”
“I did promise that,” I say carefully. “Okay. I
have to get ready first though.”
Leaning in close, there’s a wolfish grin on his
face. “Where do you want me?”
“Upstairs.”
Tilting my face up to his, he gives me a brief
kiss. “More than five minutes and I’m coming to
get you.”
My heart starts to beat faster, and I listen to him
walk up the stairs before I sprint out into the living
room to the pile of clothes I left there. For a tiny
store in a town that can’t be more than a few
hundred people, they had a decent selection of
clothes. And the underwear set I found is adorable.
I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I said I would
because I didn’t think that he would be able to
finish the sculpture tonight. I didn’t actually have a
show planned. Serves me right for saying I’d do
something I wasn’t prepared for.
I strip off my clothes and put on the new lacy
set of panties and bra. They’re a deep burgundy
that I think looks pretty good on me. And then I
pull out the flannel shirt I took after Robert left the
store. It’s even tighter than the one I had on in the
dressing room with him and I’m spilling out of it.
But it’s long, so I tie the ends up so my stomach
and the underwear are showing. That’s it. That’s all
I’ve got right now. I think it will be enough.
I climb the stairs and push open the door to
Robert’s bedroom, and my breath catches. He’s
already completely naked, sitting at the foot of the
bed. His cock is fully hard, and a thrill of
anticipation goes through me, my mouth watering.
He’s given me one orgasm today, but he hasn’t
fucked me, and I want him inside me as soon as
humanly possible. The ways his eyes are consuming
me right now, I’m sure that’s going to happen soon.
“I lied,” I say.
“Oh?”
I swallow. “I didn’t have a show prepared, and
I’m pretty sure me giving a strip tease would be the
most awkward thing you’ve ever witnessed in your
life.”
Robert looks me up and down again. “Trust me,
Anna, you’re putting on a show.” I blush, and he
reaches out his hand, pulling me to stand between
his legs. His hands land on my hips, slowly turning
me so he can see every angle. “This is actually
better,” he says, “because now I get to take my
time and peel you out of these clothes.”
Turning back to face him, I like the way he’s
looking at me. My breasts are right in front of his
face, and he knows it.
“How attached are you to this shirt?” he asks,
untying the knot that I’ve tied, and flipping me onto
the bed so he’s hovering over me.
“Not at all. It barely fits. I just bought it ‘cause
I thought you’d like it. Why?”
“Good.” He puts his hands on either side of the
collar that’s barely containing my breasts, and tears
it open. Buttons fly everywhere, and I gasp. His
mouth is on my skin immediately, kissing and
licking and I’m already wet and ready for him. I
don’t know how I thought I could ever last thirty
days without this. And it’s not getting better. Then
more he touches me, the more I want. It’s like I’m
fire and his touch is gasoline.
Robert tongues my nipple through the lace of
my bra, and I moan, arching my back off the bed.
“You remember those things I said I wanted to do?”
he asks.
“Yes.”
“They’re just a few of many, but I’m going to
give you a choice. Both choices end in your second
orgasm, and maybe more.”
I can feel his cock pressing against my belly,
hard and ready, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
He’s everywhere—lips on my skin, legs against
mine, hands pinning mine to the bed. “What are the
choices?”
“Tits or ass, sweetheart.”
I swallow, and I feel like all the air has gone out
of me. Because I remember what he said that first
time in his bed. “I’ve never done either of those
things.”
The look on Robert’s face is feral. “I like the
idea of being some of your firsts,” he says.
“Both,” I say.
He freezes. “What?”
“I want both.”
He comes unfrozen, crushing his mouth onto
mine. An all-consuming kiss that pours more fuel
on the fire. My pussy is dripping with want and
need, and the fact that it’s not going to get any
attention right now, and he’s still promised to make
me come, is even more arousing. “Anna Collins,”
he says, “you are the most surprising woman I’ve
ever met.”
I laugh. “Is that good?”
“More than good, it’s fucking sexy.”
He kisses me again, pausing to pull back and
look at me. Robert raises an eyebrow, asking, and I
nod. The way he kisses me now, tongue plunging
into my mouth, it’s like he’s giving me a preview to
exactly how he’s going to fuck me. He reaches
toward the side of the bed and grabs a bottle of
lotion. Given that he’s already said that he’s jacked
off while thinking about me, I can guess why it’s
sitting there and I feel my cheeks turn pink.
Robert peels the straps off my shoulders, and
helps me out of the bra. “I like it when you blush,
Anna. It’s the same color as these.” He tweaks one
of my nipples with his fingers and it hardens under
his touch. “Every time I see that pink I want to see
if the rest of you is blushing too.”
He’s moved up, straddling my waist, and his
cock is right there, between my breasts. He takes
the lotion and spreads a generous amount on his
hands. Then he touches me. A firm massage,
covering my breasts in creamy lotion, and the way
he’s rolling them through his hands makes my eyes
flutter shut in pleasure. He touches every inch of
them, massaging the sides and top and down to my
ribs and back. He pinches my nipples, pulling on
them until they’re so hard I can’t help but moan
again. My tits are glistening with lotion now, and he
presses them together.
Robert slides his cock into the valley between
my breasts. “Fuck,” he growls. “This feels so good
baby.” I watch his eyes fall shut as he presses
between my breasts, thrusting again and again,
sliding easily against the slickness of my skin. It
feels strangely erotic, the way his cock travels
through, peeking out above my breasts, so, so close
to my mouth. It’s so close that it’s tempting. And
even though I already got to taste him today, I flick
my tongue out, catching the tip of him as he thrusts.
“I’m not going to last if you do that,” Robert
says, sliding in and out slowly.
I move my hands to my breasts, holding them
together so he doesn’t have to. I press them harder
than he was, and the sudden sensation pulls a groan
out of him. “Then don’t last,” I say.
He leans forward, taking his weight on his arms
and starts to fuck. I feel his cock slip in and out and
beyond reason I can feel him get harder. Every line
of him is taut; the veins in his arms standing out as
he holds himself up, and I can see the ridges of his
abs sharpen as he moves. He’s so close. I press my
head down and open my mouth, and suddenly he’s
sliding into my mouth with every thrust, and Robert
groans. He speeds up his pace, fucking my breasts
with an urgency that tells me he needs this. Wants
this. But he’s holding back just enough to make it
last.
I swirl my tongue around him every time he
passes my lips, and I hear his breath go ragged,
suddenly his motions aren’t rhythmic, they’re
desperate. His eyes fly open, locking with mine. He
manages to find the words. “Open your mouth.” I
do, seconds before he comes. Salt and heat stream
into my mouth, splashing across my chest and
breasts. It pools on my tongue and Robert grunts
with every last thrust until he stills, spent. He
watches as I swallow him, and then I suck the tip of
his cock again, getting every last drop, and feeling
it jerk like it wants another round.
“Fucking hell,” he says, sitting back and
breathing hard. But he doesn’t look satisfied. If
anything, the lust on his face is deeper, more acute.
“Turn over.”
Oh God. I’m really going to do this. He’s going
to be the first person to take me there, and my
pussy spasms in response. I want to feel what it’s
like to have Robert where no one has ever gone. I
turn over slowly, and he slides my panties off,
brushing my ass with his lips. Just lips at first, and
then tongue. And then tongue and teeth moving
across me. His fingers spread me open, and this is
far more vulnerable than I’ve felt in a long time.
Just a touch of his finger to the bud of my ass, and I
gasp.
Robert laughs. “You’re going to have to relax if
this is going to work.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I say. I want this, but in
practice it’s…different.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll help.” And then
his mouth is on me. There.
His lips press against my ass, and the flick of his
tongue shocks me. I’ve never felt anything like it:
alien and arousing and intimate. His hand curls
around my thigh, and fingers find my clit. I’m so
hot, so wet, that his fingers slip across me, and he
laughs. The vibrations do funny things to my ass,
and need coils in my gut. The stroking, stroking,
stroking of his fingers on my clit matches the
stroking, stroking, stroking of his tongue in my ass,
pushing deeper, taking all of my focus away from
my anxiety and putting it on my pleasure. His hand
doesn’t move, gently circling my clit, just enough to
keep me on edge. But his mouth leaves, and
suddenly there’s a burst of cold on my skin—the
lotion.
Robert smooths it over the space where his
tongue just was. And then I feel it—his finger
again, this time more insistent, pressing against my
opening. I clench myself shut out of pure instinct.
“Push out against me,” he says. I take a deep
breath, and do. It suddenly gets easier, and the tip
of his finger slips into me. Oh my God, it feels so
strange. Good, but strange.
He’s gentle but consistent, pushing in and
pulling out, sinking further each time until he says,
“There. That’s my whole finger.”
It feels impossibly big, and strange tingles are
running across my skin like nothing I’ve ever felt
before. If that’s his finger, I can’t imagine his cock
fitting. “You won’t fit.”
He kisses the back of my neck, “I will,
sweetheart. I will. We’ll go slow.” Pulling his finger
back slowly, I suddenly feel empty. I want to feel
that sensation again. There’s something deep in my
gut that tells me that sensation can and will lead to
more. To greater pleasure.
It’s cold again, more lotion, and then it’s him—
the head of his cock. I moan, because he’s so, so
big. This is a whole new world of sensation, and I
can feel my body stretching, growing, trying to fit. I
push back against him as he pushes in. Slow and
steady. I don’t think he’s going to fit. He’s still not
even in, and the stretch is on the edge of pain and
pleasure. Suddenly his head pops in, and the air is
knocked out of me. I thought I felt full when he
was in my pussy, but not even close. This is so
much more than that. “Oh my God.”
Robert starts to circle my clit again, and
pleasure explodes through me. It races up and back
and around and somehow just Robert’s cock in my
ass wakes up a whole new set of nerves connected
to my clit and I think I’m going blind with pleasure.
I squeeze down on him, and he makes a noise deep
in his throat. My muscles are starting to relax, and
it feels more normal to have him there, and he
knows.
“Time for more.”
He presses in again, slowly inching deeper, and
every millimeter feels like a mile. All of a sudden I
feel an orgasm coming, rising up from a place so
deep I didn’t even know it existed. Faster circles on
my clit, a driving rhythm that’s pushing me straight
to the edge, and I’m so close that I’m panting,
moaning, writhing. I can’t control myself. It’s right
there, and one last flick with his fingers is what
sends me over the edge.
The world disappears, and I’m consumed. I’m a
bonfire of pleasure, I feel nothing but that. There’s
a chance that I pass out for a second, because it’s
that good, that pure, that un-fucking-believable. I
come back to myself, and I feel Robert push in
deeper—all the way. The skin of his hips rests
against my ass, and I’m fuller than I’ve ever been
in my life. I can’t breathe, because if I breathe it
fills me with that strange sensation that almost hurts
but feels so good.
Robert’s mouth is at my ear. “I’m all in, baby.
How do you feel?”
I don’t know what to say. “Yeah.”
He chuckles, “Good?”
“Weird. Good. I don’t know.”
His hips move, and I gasp. It’s so strange, and
so new, and my body is already so aroused that I
almost come again. He keeps making those tiny
movements, in and out and in and out and my
breath starts coming with his movements. Tiny
shocks and spasms run through me. Robert starts to
move more, bigger thrusts, pulling out further, and
pushing in faster. He’s easing me in, and it feels
good. Really good.
His hand moves from my clit, curling down and
in, slipping a finger inside my pussy. I honestly
didn’t think that it could get any better, but it did.
My mind is glazed with pleasure and I feel like I’m
drowning in it, but I don’t know if I can come again
after the first orgasm. “It’s too much,” I say,
digging my fingers into the sheets.
“No,” Robert says, “It’s just enough.” And then
he thrusts in again.
12
ROBERT
Being inside Anna like this is like a fantasy. She’s
so tight, her ass squeezing me like a vice that I’m
barely holding myself back from filling her with
come.
“It’s too much,” she says, her voice barely
there, almost a whisper.
I don’t think so. She’s going to come again.
“No. It’s just enough.” I add a finger inside her
pussy so that she feels like she’s being fucked in
both holes. Anna’s pussy quivers around my fingers
and I know that she’s almost there again. I love the
way she comes, so completely lost that the pleasure
takes her away.
Her body is pliant beneath me, finally adjusting
to my size, and I pull out farther, thrusting faster.
God, she feels so fucking good, and holding back is
so hard that I’m grunting with every thrust, but
she’s going to come first. One more finger, and I
can feel the stretch in her pussy. She’s shaking,
whimpering, taut as a string. I brush my thumb
across her clit, and her entire body goes still. Then
it feels like her whole body spasms. She screams,
coming, her pussy gushing onto my hand as her ass
clenches down on my cock, and I can’t hold back
any more. My own orgasm overflows, pleasure on
the edge of pain bursting through me as I come,
cock jerking as stream after stream pours out,
surrounding me with heat.
I nearly collapse on top of Anna, catching
myself at the last second. Her breath is coming in
gasps, hands reflexively gripping and releasing the
sheets as the orgasm washes over her. She barely
notices as I pull out gently and clean myself off,
and hasn’t moved when I come back to the bed.
Not until I lie down next to her and pull her in,
draping her across my chest so that her head rests
on my shoulder.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says, but it feels like she’s barely
conscious of the answer.
I stroke down her body, enjoying the feeling of
her on me. I’m happy to wait until she’s entirely
recovered, because this is so enjoyable. It takes
some time, but I notice when she starts to stir, her
breath coming back to a normal pace, and her
fingers starting to trace lines on my chest. Finally,
she looks up at me. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“That was…” a shy smile appears on her face,
and she blushes, hiding her face in my chest.
I laugh. “I don’t know if you get to blush after I
just fucked you in the ass.”
“I know,” she says, but she’s still hiding.
I pull her further onto my chest so that her face
is level with mine, and I’m very aware of the fact
that this position presses her breasts up against my
skin. “I want to sculpt you.”
Anna’s face goes slack with shock. “What?”
“I want to sculpt you,” I say, tucking my hand
behind her neck so that she can’t hide or look
away. “You can help me pick out the wood, and
then you’ll pose while I recreate you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Why not?” She looks uncomfortable, and she
tries to look away. I don’t let her. “Anna?”
There’s a little shake of her head before she
responds. “I’m not worth that.”
A flare of anger rises in my chest at her
reaction. But after everything she’s lost, I can
understand why she might feel that way. “I
disagree,” I say, pulling her face closer to mine.
“You’re beautiful, and you stuck around here when
I thought you’d give up the first day. I think you’re
going to make an absolutely stunning sculpture.
And of course,” I grin, “there’s the added benefit
that I get to look at you during the process.”
She stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“I want to sculpt you in nothing but these
curves.” I draw my fingers up her hips for
emphasis.
She turns bright red. “But you’re R. L.
Mackenzie. Any sculpture you do…people are
going to see it.”
I shrug. “Maybe I won’t sell it. But I think once
you see what I’m imagining, you’ll be happy
enough for the world to see it.”
Anna senses the challenge in my words—I’ve
learned that she likes challenges—and she smiles.
“In that case, you’re on.”
It’s rare for me to find a birch tree large enough for
one of my sculptures, but a few weeks ago I found
one that’s perfect. And I think it’s ideal for my
sculpture of Anna. I’m out of the house before
she’s even awake, chopping off the smaller limbs
and making it more manageable. I’m not even sure
how much time has passed when she wanders out
of the house in one of her new flannel shirts,
looking tousled and cute as hell. “Morning,” I call.
“Morning,” she says through a yawn. “You
didn’t wake me.”
“I thought you’d earned your rest,” I say,
grinning. She doesn’t respond, just smiles a little
shyly as she comes over. “This is your tree.”
“Oh?”
I hold out my hand. “Do you want to help me
finish it?”
“What do I do?”
She lets me pull her in so her back is against my
chest. I hand her the axe and put my hands over
hers. “Just need to chop it down to size. Swing with
me.”
I guide our arms back and up and together we
swing down, burying the axe into the wood. Again
and again I guide her hands, and I can feel the force
that she’s adding to the axe—it’s not nothing. And
as she pushes down on the axe, her ass presses
back into my cock in a way that’s distracting. But
I’d chop wood all day if I could have Anna up
against me.
One final swing, and the log splits in two, falling
to either side. Anna immediately jumps away and
turns, fire her in her eyes. “That was fun.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I felt powerful. It’s been a
long time since I’ve felt like that. Like the last time
I was in a courtroom and arguing a case. I’d
forgotten what that felt like.”
“Good,” I say, pressing a kiss to her lips. “It’s
time for the next step.”
She’s bouncing on her toes. “And what’s that?”
“Posing.”
Anna freezes. “Oh.”
“You’re going to be great.”
I see her swallow, and I hope she can hold onto
that feeling of power that she just had. “What do
you need me to do?”
“Just meet me in the studio. Naked.”
As she turns and walks towards the house, I
can’t help but watch her ass swing in those jeans.
What happened last night—we’ll be doing that
again soon.
13
ANNA
Robert has now seen me naked almost as much as
he’s seen me clothed. But still, standing in the
workshop naked while he looks at me like that feels
entirely different. The giant piece of pale wood is
set up on his carving station, and I can’t
comprehend how that’s going to look like me, but
he swears it will. I’ve been standing in the corner,
bathed in sunlight for a fun five minutes while he
stares at me, and he hasn’t said a thing.
It feels like forever before he moves. But then
he does, coming to me with purpose. He arranges
my hair around my shoulders, and then my arms.
One draped across my chest, almost hiding my
breasts, but not quite. The other across my
stomach. Then he bends one of my knees slightly.
He smiles then, and kisses me softly. “That’s it.”
My body follows him a little as he pulls away, and
he chuckles. “Keep your eyes on me. We’ll just get
the shape today.”
When he starts to cut the wood, it’s like he
turns into a different person, or at least a side I
haven’t seen before. He’s full of focus, looking at
me like I’m the key to something that he’s trying to
find. The way he works is swift and efficient, and I
wonder if he works this quickly when he doesn’t
have a subject that he’s working from. I lose track
of the time, watching him work, and when he steps
back from the much smaller piece of wood, I
realize that I’m starting to go stiff.
There’s only a very vague shape to the wood
now, planes and angles that I suppose I could
maybe see how they’ll shrink down into a body?
But I’m not sure.
Robert stretches, and I’m distracted by the strip
of skin that shows when his shirt pulls up. “I think
we’re down for the day.”
“Okay,” I say, dropping the pose. I give in to
the urge to stretch too.
Robert sweeps me up into his arms. “I’m going
to feed you, and then I’m taking you to bed. And
tomorrow, we’ll do it again.”
I smile, because that sounds perfect in a way
that nothing has in a really long time.
The days in the cabin fall into a rhythm. Robert and
I wake up curled around each other, and we eat
breakfast together before we do our chores. In the
afternoon, Robert works on the sculpture. It takes
shape before my eyes, and I’m in awe of the way
he draws my shape out of the wood. I am in awe
too, of how he looks at me, and marvel that
something so beautiful is supposed to be based off
me.
Sometimes in the evening we bathe in the giant
tub, soaking in the heat until the water prunes our
fingers. And of course, there’s the sex. We fall into
bed together at the end of the day and there’s
pleasure that blows my mind. Robert has absolutely
kept his promise of two orgasms per day, and it’s
usually more. On more than one occasion he’s
stopped sculpting and taken me because the heat
that was building between us was too much to
ignore.
It’s not long before I realize that I’m falling in
love with this man. Everything about him speaks to
who I am. I learn more about him and his family,
and more details about why he left. He doesn’t hate
his brothers, but is fed up with the fact that they
tolerate his father’s behavior. The depth of his love
for art inspires me. We talk about my life, and what
happened, and how it might be possible for me to
get my career back.
But the longer I stay out here, the longer I
realize that Robert was right. I needed to clear my
head. And even though I lost everything, maybe it
was worth losing. I’ve been happier this month than
I have been in years. I never thought that a life
away from a city would be my thing, but it’s
been…refreshing. And of course, being with Robert
has been the icing on that cake.
But today is day twenty-nine, and I have a ball
of dread in my stomach. I don’t want this to end,
but I know that it has to. When we ended the
carving session today all that was left were the tiny
details. Smoothing the line of my hips and doing
some refining around my eyes. Other little things
too that I’ve already forgotten, but Robert knows.
When we went to bed, neither of us spoke
about the fact that it was our last night together. Or
the fact that he made this deal with me, never
imagining that we’d actually get to the end of it.
But now that we’re here…
I can’t do it.
It’s fully dark, and Robert’s arm is around my
stomach possessively. I love the way it feels, and I
don’t ever want it to end. But how can I be that
selfish? I came out here to retrieve Robert Logan,
the wayward son of a millionaire who has money to
burn. I did it so I could get back the life I’d lost.
Instead, I’ve fallen in love with the real Robert
Logan, the artist and mountain man, who had good
reasons for leaving. There are other ways that I can
get money. I can’t justify dragging Robert back to a
life he hates so I can get back a life I’m not sure I
even want anymore. Which is why I have to leave.
Now. Otherwise, he’s not going to let me go.
Robert’s breathing is smooth and even, and I’ve
laid beside him enough that I know he’s deeply
asleep. I slip out from underneath his arm and pull
on my clothes quickly. My bag is already in my
truck—a part of the bargain since I agreed to cut
myself off from the outside world. The dread in my
gut only gets heavier as I creep silently down the
stairs and let myself out into the cool of the night.
This isn’t what I want, but Robert is too honorable
and I know he won’t go back on his word.
It’s the only way I can help him. So I take a
deep breath and close the door behind me.
14
ROBERT
When I wake up, my body knows something is
wrong. Anna isn’t next to me, and the bed feels
cold without her.
I stretch, and listen for the sounds of her getting
ready. Sounds I’ve grown used to. I don’t hear the
shower running. She must be in the kitchen—
maybe cooking breakfast. Maybe she’ll be wearing
nothing but one of my shirts. I think it’s my favorite
thing to see her in, ass barely showing beneath the
shirt, just waiting for me to haul it up and see
what’s underneath. And damn, I love what’s
underneath. Yes, love.
It hit me like a ton of bricks the other day, that
this little lawyer crashed into my life and stole the
one thing I’d never thought I’d actually give away.
My heart.
I’m a cliché.
I pull on a pair of pants and head down the
stairs, but I don’t hear any of the telltale sounds of
cooking. The entire cabin is quiet. Not quiet, silent.
Anna isn’t in the kitchen, and I know she’s not in
the bedroom. The hairs on my arms raise and I head
to the back door to look. But she’s not there.
Something in my gut knew that I wouldn’t find her
there. There’s an absence of her presence in the air,
like she’s completely gone.
Sudden, pure fear rolls through me and I feel
nauseous. I look at the calendar and I feel sick.
Today was the day. The final day of our deal. I’d
been so engrossed in her, so in love with her and
the little life we’d carved out that I’d forgotten that
it was so soon. Pushing open the door to the cabin,
I see what I already know that in my gut: Anna’s
truck is gone. She went back to the city. And I
know she didn’t go back to suck up to my father.
Not after everything we learned about each other.
Another wave of sickness rolls through me. She
went back to tell him she couldn’t find me. To tell
him that it’s over. She’s giving me the freedom that
I took. Because Anna has the biggest heart of
anyone I know, she knew I wouldn’t let her go
alone. That I’d insist she complete the deal and get
what she’s owed. So she left. I’m already climbing
the stairs and changing my clothes before I’ve even
made the decision to go. But of course I’m going,
because I love her, and I’m not going to let my
father destroy her. She belongs with me, here, and
if she doesn’t want that she at least deserves to get
back the life she lost. I’m not going to stand in the
way of that.
I grab my keys and hop in my truck. There’s
only two hours between me and the woman I love,
and that’s two hours too many.
I hoped I’d never have to see my father’s office
building again, but here I am. Nobody even
questions the fact that I walk through security
without a pass, they know who I am. They probably
know that my father is looking for me. And I
worked here enough years to be recognized. Anna
is already here—I saw her name in the visitor log.
She only checked in a half-hour ago. If I’m lucky,
my father is busy today and hasn’t even had a
chance to see her yet.
But I’m not lucky. She’s not in the waiting area,
and I ignore my father’s secretary and her shocked
face as I push past her and down the hall. There’s
anger boiling in my gut now, because I can already
hear the yelling.
“You’re telling me that you saw him? That you
had him and you’re not bringing him in? You stupid
bitch, what do you think I’m paying for? Where is
he?”
I can’t hear what Anna says, but it’s not the
right thing.
“Tell me where he is,” my father bellows, “or I
promise, it’s the last thing you’ll ever do in this
town.”
Yanking open the door to his office, I step
inside. “No need to shout, Dad, I’m right here.” I’m
doing my best to keep my anger under the surface,
but it’s not working. Anna whips around in the
chair she’s sitting in, shocked to see me.
My father freezes, stunned into silence. But he
recovers after a second. “Well, it’s about time. I’m
sure Miss Collins told you how long I’ve been
looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Why?” My father sneers. “Because you’re my
son, and I need you here.”
I have to tighten my hands into fists to keep
from rolling my eyes. “Dad, I’ve never shown
interest in helping you run this business. And
despite the fact that I’ve told you this—repeatedly
—you’re not getting it. How does it not sink in that
if I go to the trouble of completely removing myself
from the grid just to get away from you that I want
nothing to do with you or this business?”
“But—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You’re a greedy son of a
bitch. Your only goal in life is to have power over
others, no matter the cost. The way you treat
people is disgusting. You manipulate people so they
owe you, and then you don’t give them what you
owe them. You do it to your family, too. You take
advantage of the way Mom loves you.” I see his
face darken, but I can’t stop now. “I don’t know
why she’s still with you, but I can’t watch while she
loves a bastard like you. If you really want
someone in the family to run the business, talk to
Tom and Sam.”
My father’s face explodes with rage. “I’m not
giving those traitorous little bastards anything.”
For a second I freeze. Clearly something has
changed since I was last here. “Good,” I say. “Then
there are two less people under your thumb.”
There’s a cavernous silence in the room, and I
finally sigh. “But I suppose in one way I have to
thank you.”
“And how’s that?” my father asks, voice laced
with poison.
My eyes are on Anna and his are on me. “If
you hadn’t sent Anna to drag me home, I never
would have fallen in love with her.” I see her breath
catch. “And I’ll come back and work for this
company if you promise to give her what she needs.
I know you can do that.”
An evil grin crosses my father’s face, because
he’s won and he knows it. But I don’t have a
choice.
“No,” Anna says, standing. “No, Robert, that’s
not what I want.” She comes to me quickly, and I
catch her by the arms. It’s like she’s so shocked
that she’s having a hard time standing. “I love you,
too. You were right. I needed to get out of my head
and the obsession with wanting everything back.”
Her voice is quiet now. “I never thought I could be
happy without that, but now I can’t imagine
anything else.” There are tears in her eyes. “Take
me home, please.”
I kiss her, and I don’t give a damn that my
father is watching, because he’s nothing. Less than
nothing. Kissing Anna feels like coming home, and
I hadn’t realized just how afraid I was that I was
wrong, that she wouldn’t want to come back, that
she wouldn’t want to be with me. I pull back and
look at my father. His face is so red it’s bordering
on purple. He’s furious. “Get. Out.” he spits.
“With pleasure.”
I wrap my arms around Anna’s shoulder and
guide her out, and I hear the crash of something
breaking behind us. My father’s secretary still looks
shocked and disturbed when we walk past, straight
into the elevator. The doors are barely closed when
I have her against the wall. “You terrified me,” I
say, pulling her mouth to mine. “When you weren’t
there…”
“I couldn’t do that to you,” she says. “I
couldn’t make you give up your life for something I
don’t even want.”
“Next time talk to me.”
She shakes her head. “There’s not going to be a
next time. I’m not leaving again.”
“Good.” I flip her around so her she’s facing
the elevator wall and slam the button to stop the
elevator.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, breathless.
Hiking up her skirt, I run my fingers along her
pussy, and I smile. She’s wet. “I need to be inside
you.”
“Here?” her voice goes up an octave. “What
about your father?”
“Here. He doesn’t have the balls to call security
on me, and I need this.” I unzip my jeans, push her
panties to the side and fit myself against her,
thrusting in in one stroke. It’s heaven, so familiar
and so perfect and I groan, pressing her harder into
the wall. Anna is breathing in little pants of need,
and I don’t hold back. I fuck her fast and hard, and
I feel Anna trembling, see her biting her lip to keep
quiet. “Scream, baby,” I say. “We’re not coming
back.”
“God, yes!” she says as I plunge again, and she
only gets louder, moaning and saying my name as I
drive harder, deeper, and I’m teetering on the edge,
riding that peak as long as possible. I slow down,
drawing it out, and I can feel that she’s close.
“Come with me,” I say.
“I know,” I say, grinning.
“You’re going to keep fucking me in public,”
she says, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
I tuck my cock back into my pants. “If you
“Can we stop my apartment first?” she asks.
“I’m going to need more clothes if you keep ripping
them off me.”
I laugh, and it echoes off the walls. “Deal.”
Brothers series
!
He thinks he's too big
for
me.
I
like
a
challenge.
Chapter 1
The letter arrives at the worst possible time.
I’m
currently
between
clients,
juggling
freelance jobs from my last company, where I was
their head paralegal consultant until I had enough
of their bullshit pseudo-assignments and quit to
pursue my own thing. But it’s been slow-going in
the freelance world, and it’s taken me a while to
build up a private client base. Originally I took on a
couple of gigs for my old firm on a case-by-case
basis. Now they’ve flooded me with so many that it
feels like I’m full-time again, minus the healthcare
benefits.
Not that I can complain about the money. That,
at least, has been more than decent.
Still, my schedule is a wreck. So much a wreck,
that when the letter first arrives, I don’t even notice
it in my inbox for a week straight. When I do, I
take one glance at the cover letter and find myself
wincing, wanting to shove it straight back under the
stack of unread incoming mail that awaits me on
my desk. The longer I can prolong this, the better.
Because I don’t want to confront any of the
emotions that rise up when I read that first line.
In the Matter of the Estate of Maryanne
Bluebell…
No, thank you. I spent a year after Mama died
being heartbroken. I don’t need to relive that again,
thank you very much. Besides, it took her estate
that whole year and an extra 8 months to even get
this letter to me. How important could it be?
But eventually, after a week of ignoring that
half-opened letter on my desk while I sorted
through my current freelance projects, I ran out of
excuses. I couldn’t prolong the inevitable anymore.
I had to face the music.
I unfolded the full letter over a hefty pour of
Cabernet one Friday night, with my favorite cheesy
TV reality show on in the background, and a long-
overdue weekend off ahead of me. I figured that
might mitigate the blow, knowing that for once I
had some free time to myself coming up. I’d
worked overtime for the last month and a half
straight to carve myself this little slice of freedom.
And this is how I decided to reward myself? I
really am a masochist in disguise.
By the time I reach the third line of the letter,
I’ve already downed my whole glass of Cab. I need
to refill to finish reading. Because this one, I didn’t
see coming.
I didn’t expect the middle block of text, written
by my mother herself, years before her death.
I didn’t expect the plea to resonate so deeply.
I didn’t expect to feel it in my bones when I
read her words on the page, ink long-dried, words
she asked her lawyer to add to this case file long
before the breast cancer stole her from me.
Sasha,
You are my only legacy. I don’t say this because
I’m ashamed of it—you are the best thing that ever
happened to me. My dearest dream in life was to
raise you right, and I am so proud of the woman
you have become.
I know how much you love your life in the city,
and I’m happy that you’ve found your place. But I
hope you recognize the history and importance of
our home back here, too. Your great-great
grandfather built this house with his own hands.
For generations, your family has tilled the soil,
lived off what this land produced. I hope that when
I am gone, you will respect the legacy we’ve both
been entrusted with and do what is right for this
place.
If you’re reading this letter, it all belongs to
you now, my love. I trust you with it, as I trust you
with everything in my life.
Your loving mother
She left it unsigned. That, somehow, makes it
sting even worse.
I just keep rereading the words this place and
our home. She means the family farm back in
Nowheresville. That place and I haven’t been on
speaking terms for fifteen years. Not since I applied
to the farthest college away that would take me,
packed up my bags and got the fuck out of dodge.
I’ve spent the last fifteen years right here in
New York City. I can’t imagine going back. Hell, I
barely even visited, not until two years ago, right at
the end, when things were so bad Mama couldn’t
make it on a plane out here. She visited me in the
city as often as she liked because I couldn’t stand
to visit her.
I visited that one time. The last time. I held her
hand as she closed her eyes and breathed her last. I
barely stayed long enough to sign the estate over to
my more-than-capable legal team and then I high-
tailed it out of dodge.
I never thought I’d need to go back. I never
planned to set foot in that tiny town ever again.
But here are her words, staring up at me in
black-and-white, asking the impossible. Asking me
to return.
I can’t, is my immediate gut reaction.
You have to, is what my frontal cortex yells at
my monkey brain.
Because how can I ignore this letter? How can I
disregard the last wishes of my mother when I’m
her only child, her only heir, the only one she ever
had to lay all her hopes and dreams on?
I fold the letter back up, for tonight. For
tonight, I concentrate on my shitty reality TV show
and my bottle of Cabernet, which I’m definitely
going to polish off by myself, propriety be damned.
For tonight, I let myself enjoy the first day off
I’d managed to carve in my schedule since as long
as I can remember. Life here in the city is hectic,
but it’s what I love. There’s always something going
on, always a new project to focus on, always
something to occupy my attention. Much better
than country life. Much better than that stifling
hometown I escaped the first minute I could.
For tonight, I enjoy the life I built myself, on
my own sweat and blood and tears and exhaustion.
Then the next morning, hung-over and bleary-
eyed from lack of sleep, I unfold the letter one
more time and dial the number at the bottom.
“Paul?” I ask the moment the estate handler
picks up. “I need to book a flight back home…”
And that’s how the real trouble began.
Grant keeps saying I could never handle him, that
he'd break me in two. I know I don't have to prove
him wrong...
But I want to.
Document Outline
- Copyright
- Table of Contents
- Books By Penny Wylder
- 1. Anna
- 2. Robert
- 3. Anna
- 4. Robert
- 5. Anna
- 6. Robert
- 7. Anna
- 8. Robert
- 9. Anna
- 10. Robert
- 11. Anna
- 12. Robert
- 13. Anna
- 14. Robert
- Books By Penny Wylder
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