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Then Susie went over to the back of her Jeep and opened the passenger side door, grabbing a couple grocery bags before turning and facing the cabin. She still had yet to see me so I was able to watch her uninterrupted for a few seconds, enjoying the view.
She started taking the grocery bags inside and I made my way slowly around the house until I stood in the front, staring at the door, looking inside of the darkened interior. I could hear her setting the bags on the counter, the shuffle of paper as she took everything out.
My heart was beating hard and fast, this possessive part of me wanting to just go in there and toss all the shit on the ground, grab her hips and lift her onto the island. I wanted to step between her splayed thighs … take control.
I’d gently cup her neck, my fingers wrapped around her throat, my mouth close to hers. I’d tell her all the things I wanted to do to her, all the filthy things I’d envisioned. She might be scared, would be smart to want to run away, but she’d look at me with desire and arousal reflected in her gaze.
I’d know then that she was mine, that there was no going back.
And then I found myself taking the four steps onto the porch, walking inside the house, and watching her as she unloaded the groceries and put them on the kitchen counter. She had her back to me, her long dark hair loose and in waves around her shoulders.
I curled my hands into tight fists at my side, wanting to go to her, push the long fall of her hair off her shoulder and place my mouth right on the side of her neck. I wanted to lick and suck at her flesh, taste her skin and see if she was as sweet as she looked.
I found myself moving closer, my body having a mind of its own. Every part of me said to screw formalities, to forget about everything else aside from making Susie mine.
The island stopped me from getting any closer, but then she turned around, our gazes clashing, her eyes widening. Her lips were red, naturally shaded that color and so kissable. My cock was hard, thickening behind my jeans, pressing against the zipper. The bastard wanted out, wanted to be buried deep inside of her, claiming her in the rough and primal way that a man did when he was consumed by the only woman he had ever wanted.
The longer we stood there staring at each other, the more I saw her chest rising and falling, faster, harder. Her pupils became dilated, her mouth parting slightly. The air between us heated, became thick, almost suffocating. I lowered my gaze to her chest, not able to help myself, wanting to see the mounds behind the cotton of her shirt. Her nipples were hard, pressing against the fabric, making my mouth water.
Things were moving fast, my arousal taking control. There was so much that needed said, so much that needed done before it got to this level.
But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t control myself.
I saw the way her throat moved when she swallowed, her nervousness clear. Hell, I could practically smell her emotions.
She moved away from the island, her little teeth pulling at her bottom lip. My cock jerked behind my pants, the tip becoming slick with pre-cum.
“Bear.” She said my name breathlessly.
I envisioned her saying that in the throes of passion, her lying in my bed with me over her, her hair fanned out across my white sheets … my cock deep in her body.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” She licked her lips, her little pink tongue moving along first her bottom lip, and then her top. I heard a deep rumble fill the house, realized it came from me. Her eyes widened even further and she took a step to the side, eyeing the door.
Maybe she’d try and run from me. A part of me hoped she did. The savage part hoped I could chase her.
I took a step back, not wanting to make her even more anxious. Although I knew she wasn’t afraid, could tell, see it in her face. She was unsure of how things were going right now, of how the situation was playing out. This was the closest we’d been since she started delivering my groceries. That was my fault, though. I always stayed away, kept my distance. I might’ve helped her unload the groceries a time or two, but I never made eye contact. I kept distance between us because that was how I would keep my control in check.
“I better get the rest of the groceries,” she said softly and turned to head out the front door.
I took a step toward her but stopped, knowing that pushing her would make things worse. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed to talk to her, tell her all the things I wanted, all the things I’d kept inside. And so I found myself following her outside, down the steps and stopping in front of her Jeep. She held onto the edge of her back door, looking over at me, questions reflected back at me in her expression.
