CLAIM (Dirty Brothers Series Book 3)

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.

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.”

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.”

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?”

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.

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.

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?”

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.”

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.

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.

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

Brothers series

He thinks he's too big
for

me.

like

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.

KEEP READING BIG MAN HERE!

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