Now, it almost calls to me the same way the man who brought me here does. Plus, I needed a break.
Sitting on that rickety old chair at that tiny table, typing away over the last several days, has wrecked my shoulders and lower back. Ergonomically correct, it is not…
I rub absently at that twinge near my lower spine as I wander over to the tub and find that, just like most days, Connor has already filled it for me and started a fire beneath it to keep it heated for whenever I decided to come down.
He must have been here fairly recently to check on it, too, because the flames are still going strong, fresh logs only just beginning to burn. The fact that I know he has to keep coming back to check the fire and add more logs to it, probably to top off the water as it evaporates too, without knowing when I might utilize it causes that stupid twinge in my chest again.
That one I’ve been getting far too often since he brought me up here.
Slipping into the hot water, day after day, helps release a bit of the tension from my body, but now that I really think about it, maybe the back pain has more to do with the way Connor has had me twisted into a thousand different positions over the last several days.
My body heats at the memory, my pussy clenching and that dull throb returning, every part of me very vividly remembering each moment we’ve spent together since the night of the storm.
By day, he continues to work on his cabin, leaving me to concentrate on the story as much as I can, but we both know the time has come when I need him.
I need his memories.
I need his experiences.
I need his trauma.
I need him to truly open up to me in a way he hasn’t yet.
I need him to come clean.
And I’m going to have to force it with him tonight, which will undoubtedly lead to an argument. The kind we always had prior to coming up here. The kind that always made us believe we were enemies when I’m not sure what we are anymore.
Enemies forced together, working out years of frustration and tension?
Old friends reconnecting physically to handle the very real fear we both hold over what the future might bring?
Or something even more complicated…
All I know is I don’t want to think about that now. Not if I want to relax. Because those thoughts, those questions, are anything but relaxing.
I strip off my t-shirt and jeans and hang them from a nearby tree, setting my clean clothes on top of the overturned bucket Connor always leaves, then walk naked across the grass to climb into the steaming tub.
The moment I sink down into it, the hot water hits my skin and starts to seep into my muscles, and the soreness eases away after only a few glorious seconds.
A satisfied groan slips from my lips before I close my eyes, hold my breath, and dunk my head under, letting the warmth cocoon me the same way Connor has the last few nights when we’ve slept together on that small bed intended for only one.
Me draped across his body.
Him tucked around me, clutching me close.
His massive frame collapsed halfway on top of me after giving me another incredible orgasm that has me wondering what the fuck I’ve been doing the last fifteen years if this is what sex is supposed to be like…
When I come back up, gasping for air, I jerk away from the shadow falling over me, blinking at the water still in my eyes until I can see what is causing it.
Connor grins at me.
God…
When he does that, it completely changes the man. It softens all those hard lines that have become everything I saw about him for the last decade and a half. They were the physical manifestation of all the pent-up anger and turmoil inside him. But now they’re gone, at least in this moment.
“I was just about to come in after you to make sure you weren’t drowning.”
I wipe the last of the water from my face and rest my head back against the edge of the tub Connor told me was already up here when he first came to the cabin. So thanks go to Killian’s father for this little luxury that must have been a bitch to get up the mountain.
