AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I checked in with Calla and Mom, biting my tongue the whole time. My mom had moved them both to her place, and Calla justlovedthe fancy guest room. Grandma was loving their little sleepover, and I could take my time doingwhoeverit was I was doing.
I couldn’t even contradict her… maybe.
Despite that, I was grateful to her. She loved Calla, and while she had Jason’s mentality that she could do a better job than me, I knew where hers stemmed from—her utter failure when I was younger. She’d been more interested in finding a meal ticket for us when we were younger than being at school concerts or having family game nights.
A nagging voice in the back of my head asked if that’s what I was doing here with Lachlan, but I ignored it. It wasn’t the same. Was it? No, whatever this was, it wouldn’t last long. I wouldn’t let it. But I could indulge in some flirting and maybe a little rest—maybe I had earned it. Just a bit.
I drank water, took my pills, and stole a scratchy piece ofnature breadfrom Lachlan’s pantry. The bread stuck to my throat, but I forced it down because I was starving. I tried to play on my phone, but Lachlan hadn’t left the Wi-Fi password, and I had terrible service up in the mountains.
He did have a TV with a million channels in his room, so I clicked that on, flipping through the programs and settling on a home renovation show with two plucky hosts and a pair of nervous homeowners. I watched a couple hours before I fell asleep, but my dreams were fitful. Fever dreams really sucked. They were full of anxiety before some kind of strange sex dream took over and I woke up all sweaty and bothered.
A glance at his clock told me it was one, and I had slept for a good two hours.
I couldn’t remember if Lachlan had wanted me to take more medicine around lunchtime. He’d said he’d be back around lunch, but with his line of work, I imagined that often went awry. I couldn’t fault him for it.
I got up, stretched, made the bed, and wandered around, bored. I explored his house. I washed the two dishes in his sink. I peeked out the windows, wondering if he was close. I briefly considered trying to shovel his driveway, but it was enormous. And I didn’t have any kind of snow gear. If I got myself sicker, then I’d only miss more work, and that wasn’t the brightest idea.
I came across his laundry room and a basket of washed but unfolded laundry. Bingo. Something to do. I folded his laundry, moved the clothing from the washer to the dryer, and found his dirty clothes hamper in his room.
After I started a load of laundry in the washer, I felt sick again, with my head smacking against the back of my eyeballs and ears ringing, so I headed down the steps in the living room to a cool alcove made almost entirely of glass. It stuck out from the house like a patio would, but it was warm and strangely cozy, even exposed to the forest. The couches in the space were huge, stuffed well with some kind of memory foam on the top layer, and I dragged the white comforter off the bed to snuggle down on the couch.
I stared at the trees, drinking in the dusted landscape from all angles. Even the ceiling in the glass box was transparent.
I looked at my phone and saw that it was three PM. He was taking longer than he’d said he would. I sighed, imagining Lachlan in his white doctor coat, doing what he did best. And then my mind wandered, and it devolved into fantasies.
Lots of fantasies.
Really dirty fantasies.
I started to squirm under the blankets thinking of him in that lab coat, the things his fingers did, the way he had touched me yesterday when I’d straddled him.
He’s so confident and commanding, and just… hot, I thought with a groan.
My fingers wandered down to my pants, and with a furtive glance around the open forest, I confirmed what I already knew—it was just me and the trees.
And my fantasy.
I slid my hands under the waistband and started to play with myself, moving my fingers in little circles and dipping into the hot moisture. The problem with me and orgasms was… well, they didn’t happen much.
You’re kind of broken.
I banished Jason’s voice from my mind and reminded myself what I’d read in a Cosmo article once. It didn’t have to be about the actual climax. I could still enjoy myself.
And I did. I played through fantasies in my head that I knew wouldn’t ever be real, but they turned me on so much, I threw back my head and closed my eyes, letting my body shake with the intensity of my arousal.
Hell, I might actually get there,I thought with excitement. The thought of Lachlan fulfilling my dirtiest doctor fantasies was driving me wild. I felt my toes start to point as I drove myself closer to the cliff. I’d probably do what I always did—overthink it. I’d remember that I can’t actually throw myself off into the abyss. But I could try.
Feeling myself getting close, my skin started to dew with sweat, and my breathing increased in tempo. With my head tilted back, my eyes hooded open slightly, fluttering against images of Lachlan’s hands and body. And then I realized there was a shape across the room.
I gasped, my hand jumping out of my pants and back going rigid.
Lachlan leaned against the glass wall just in front of the opening to the living room. He had on a lab coat over the white button-down and tie, and he’d switched his jeans for neat, black dress pants. He still had a stethoscope around his neck, and his arms were folded. He gave me a look full of scorching heat and amusement. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped, and smashed my face into the plump couch cushion. “No,” I moaned.This can’t be happening. Maybe it’s a dream. Maybe I fell asleep and I’m having a nightmare.
He chuckled darkly, and I heard his footsteps cross the glass porch. “I thought the idea of you sleeping in my bed would be the best kind of homecoming, but I’m one thousand percent wrong.” He stopped just before me and leaned down around my frozen body. “Thatis the best thing I’ll ever come home to.”
Oh my God, this is real. This is actually happening to me, and I have to be alive in my skin knowing that he saw me do that.“No,” I groaned again, shaking my head against the cushion. “I’m so sorry.” My cut smarted.
