by Roya Carmen
I’m not sure what I expect. I’ve pictured a loft full of hay bales, a wooden ladder, skittering mice, and a bed covered with thick plaid blankets. I smile as he opens the door, knowing that’s probably not how Flynn lives.
His grin is sheepish as he welcomes me in, and I completely melt inside. Everything around me is so beautiful; the tall beamed wooden ceilings and walls, the warmth of the sun shining through the windows and patio doors at one end of the space, the cozy fireplace and giant dark leather sofas. And of course, the man standing in front of me is absolutely delicious too.
I’m speechless for a beat but I recover quickly. “Your place is amazing.”
He smiles again. “Not bad for a cowboy,” he quips. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable.”
I pull off my polka-dot rain boots, eager as a child to explore every inch of this place. From my vantage point, I can only see the open concept living area and kitchen. It’s nothing like I had expected. Yes, the crackle and noises from below can be heard and a faint scent of the stables below lingers, but it is nothing like I had anticipated.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
I’m still curious about why he’s brought me here. “I’ll just have a glass of water, please.”
“Coming right up.”
As he fetches me a glass of water, I slowly walk to the living room. I think of the horses below in their stalls. It’s amazing how humans and animals can share a space like this. I take in every detail of the room; from the leather sofas, chess game on the huge chest which acts as a coffee table, the framed photos of family on an antique dresser, and the electric fireplace, a replica of the old-fashioned wood burning kind.
The huge comfy-looking corner sofa calls to me and I can’t resist. I plop myself down, sink into it and stretch my legs out on the matching ottoman. I take it all in: the deck and vista outside, the poker table in one corner, and the punching bag and open space in the other.
He laughs when he hands me my glass of water. “That chair is just about to swallow you up.”
I giggle at his words. I don’t laugh… I giggle. I’ve turned into a goofy smitten teenager with a crush. “If I disappear, you’ll come looking for me, I hope.”
He grins as he takes a seat on the sofa across me. “For sure… I’ll look to the ends of the earth for you if you ever go missing.”
My heart swells and my stomach goes all topsy-turvy. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Lord, help me. I’ve fallen hard and deep. Down the well I go.
I clear my throat, reminding myself that this is the last thing I need right now. “So, it was a good idea bringing me here. I was so angry and stressed out, and now I feel so relaxed.”
He stretches, crosses his long legs across the wide sofa and gulps down a drink of his water. “Yes, this place kind of has that effect on people.”
I wonder what ‘people’ he’s talking about. I wonder if he’s had many women here. Just like me, I’m sure other woman would eat this place up. Or maybe he’s talking about Trevor, or buddies he plays poker with.
“I do have a confession to make,” he says. “I did have something in mind when I brought you here.”
My breath hitches. And my whole body stands to attention, asking, My… what did you have in mind, Dr. Riverstone?
“I thought you could take out your frustrations on my bag over there. It’s a lot of fun.”
I turn to the black punching bag behind me hanging from a long silver chain reaching to the top of the tall ceiling. “Oh, that… uh… I don’t know.”
I try not to let my disappointment show. I was expecting him to rock my world, and I get to punch a bag instead.
Now, I’m frustrated again. I really do need to punch something.
It’s actually perfect.
He seems excited when he stands and hops over to me. He takes my glass of water and sets it on the coffee table. He then reaches for my hand and pulls me from my comfy post. I shoot him a scowl for good measure.
A wave of heat hits me as soon as I find myself standing next to him. He pauses for a second and his gaze fixes mine. His gorgeous honey eyes almost do me in. He is so beautiful.
This is torture.
I don’t want to punch a bag. I want to wrap my arms around him instead. And my legs. And possibly my tongue too.
He pulls me to the open space with a smile. I’m sure he can feel my reluctance, and I’m also pretty certain he knows I would probably do anything he asked. He leaves me standing in the middle of the open space as he walks over to a large basket tucked in the corner. I look out the windows again; the view is absolutely to die for; rolling hills, trees, and blue skies as far as the eye can see.
He reaches for my hand softly, a long white bandage in his hands. “Let me wrap you up.”
You can wrap me up any way you want, cowboy.
As he takes my hand gently in his, he has no clue what effect he has on me. He has no idea that every single touch, every single look, makes my breath quicken and my stomach press against my spine. As he wraps the loop around my thumb, and wraps the fabric sensually around my palm, he has no idea how much I want to reach up to him and grab his gorgeous face, kiss his lips, and feel the prickle of his beard on my palms, and his hot tongue in my mouth.
Every now and then, he looks down at me briefly with a playful grin.
God, he’s trying to kill me.
He finishes up with one hand and starts with the other, and I suddenly wish I had a thousand hands. I could do this all day. I’m standing so close to him, I can smell the horses on him.
He’s avoiding my gaze now and I can feel this delicious tension between us; the kind of pressure you feel straight down between your legs. I don’t move an inch as he finishes up.
When he’s finally done, he jerks around in a flash. My whole body desperately wants to cling to him. It wants the moment back.
He reaches into the basket and pulls out two black boxing gloves. “These are youth size. They should fit you well.”
I can’t help but smile. “Are you making fun of my little pudgy hands?”
He shakes his head as he helps me slip on one of the gloves. “Not at all. I love your little pudgy hands.”
I laugh. If we’re flirting, we’re certainly not doing it very well. He helps me with the other hand and before long, I’m ready to go.
“Go for it,” he presses. “Punch that thing as hard as you can.”
I stand motionless, afraid to throw the first punch.
He flashes me a grin. “C’mon, Jade. It’s not that hard.” He stands next to me and takes his position, fists tucked under chin. “Stand just like this.” He punches the air as he shows me the punches. “Jab, jab, cross.” His arm scoops up in the air like he’s done this a million times.
I don’t think I’ve ever thrown a punch.
“You do it,” he urges again.
As he punches into the air, I mimic his actions. Jab, jab, cross. Jab, jab, uppercut. We do this until we both fall into laughter.
“I think you’re ready. Hit that damn bag now.”
I sink all my might into it as I throw my first punch. And it feels so good.
“Atta girl,” Flynn cheers.
I punch again. Jab, Jab, cross. Harder and harder. Jab, Jab, undercut. I picture them all; Michael, my mother, school bullies, even Blaze, the evil horse. Every injustice I’ve ever lived crosses my mind as I keep hitting. My arms start to hurt and sweat trickles down my forehead, but I keep going. There’s so much anger in me.
Every now and then, I catch a quick glimpse of Flynn. He’s loving every minute of this. He loves watching me. And I love it too.
Flynn
God, the woman is so fucking sexy. I’ve always thought she was beautiful. From the first time I spotted her watching me by the paddock. She’s gorgeous and sweet, but now there’s so much passion in her; passion I’ve never witnessed before. There’s so much hurt there too – it breaks my heart.
She’s sexy
as hell in that fitted plaid shirt and those tight skinny jeans. Her ponytail is wild as she sinks those gloves into the bag. She’s working up a good sweat and she won’t stop. I love watching her working out her frustrations this way. This is the best kind of therapy for her right now.
I see a Jade I’ve never seen before; clenched teeth, furrowed brows, full of determination. I wonder what is going on in her mind. I’d love to be in there with her. I’d be able to help her better if I could read her. As it stands, all I can do is rely on the information she’s given me, plus what I’ve been able to deduce reading between the lines and through my research and experience on the matter. I wish I could do more. Every day, I wish I could be better for her.
She finally tires out. Her punches become sluggish, her mouth slackens, her posture droops. She throws her arms up, sinks her face in the bag, and falls into sobs. I’m not surprised by this at all. I suspected this might happen. Releasing all those frustrations and that physical energy is bound to have an effect on emotions. She needs to have this cry.
I’m drawn to her. For some reason, I just can’t stand back and let her go through this alone. I know it’s what I should do professionally, but as a friend, I want to console her. I inch slowly closer and press my hand gently on her back. “This is good for you, Jade,” I tell her. “You need to let go of your emotions.”
I rub slow circles on her back as she lets it all out. Her back jerks beneath my hands and I keep stroking her, attempting to calm her but also encouraging her to let it all go.
When her cries finally subside, her breathing is still unhinged. She won’t look at me. Her face is still pressed against the bag, its surface wet with her tears. She pulls from the bag and rips off her gloves. She wipes her nose with the cuff of her thick shirt and turns slowly to me. Her face is red and filled with emotion and vulnerability. She’s never been so beautiful.
“Thank you,” she says simply, the words soft. She doesn’t need to say more. Her big emerald eyes are fixed on mine, red with tears, edges stained with black mascara. I’ve never been so transfixed, so caught up in a stare. I can’t pull away. I know I should, but I can’t. Her magnetic gaze pulls my face into hers.
I know the last thing I should do right now is kiss her, but it’s all I want. It’s all she wants too.
Just one taste.
We’ll deal with the consequences later. I just want to live this moment and not think about all the reasons we shouldn’t do this. There is no therapy, no husband. There’s just the two of us – a man and a woman who want each other.
She reaches for me and pulls my face to hers, desperate. When her mouth presses against mine, the sensation goes straight to my core. She tastes salty and smells so sweet. My pulse races wildly and my cock hardens as we deepen the kiss and I press my body harder against hers.
I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw her.
She moans into my mouth as she wraps her hands around my head and pulls at my hair. I press into her again, not able to get close enough as we get lost in the kiss. The bag bounces around against us, and I press her to the ground, my long body overtaking her small frame.
Our tongues dance a perfect rhythm as we find ourselves on the cold floor. I bite at her bottom lip gently, not getting enough of her. I want more.
She wraps her legs around my hips and grinds into me as she pulls at the buttons of my shirt. She wants more too.
God.
We’re like horny teenagers as we grind against each other, tongues deep down each other’s throats. We can’t do this, for reasons I can’t even begin to count. As much as I want to get off, wrapped in her adorable legs, I need to stop this.
It physically hurts when I pull my mouth from hers. I press my palms firmly on the floor and peel my body from hers. My heart sinks and my cock screams. Full revolt. In one swift move, I jump to a stand and walk away – the more distance between us, the better.
Her expression absolutely breaks me. I’ve hurt her. I’ve rejected her.
She has no clue how much I want her. Yet, she must understand why we can’t do this.
She rises slowly, and a stricken expression traces her features. She also looks mortified and guilt ridden, as if somehow she has done something awful. Uncharacteristically, I don’t have any wise words to offer – my mind is still reeling with images of the two of us, memories of a few seconds ago; the taste of her mouth, her scent, the intoxicating emotions and desire I haven’t felt in ages.
I can’t think straight.
“I should go,” she says, eyes brimming with tears. She doesn’t give me a chance to respond as she dashes to the door – she can’t get out of here fast enough.
I catch a hold of her arm as she reaches for her boots. “Jade.”
Her chin is trembling when she looks up at me. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid. Of course you’re not interested in someone like me… I don’t know what I was thinking.”
My heart sinks – she thinks she’s not good enough for me. I pull her closer and press her cheek into my palm. “You have no clue what you do to me, Jade.”
She stills and gazes at me without a word. She wipes her sniffing nose with the sleeve of her shirt. Her face is puffy and splotchy, and her mascara is running.
“You’re a mess,” I tease, attempting to lighten the mood. I can’t let her leave feeling like this. We need to talk about this. “But somehow, you make it work. You still look very adorable.”
A hint of a smile traces her lips as she stares at the floor. Suddenly, she’s shy, and all I want is to kiss her again – this won’t work. She needs to go. But first, I need to make her understand. “You know why this is a bad idea, Jade.” I don’t wait for a response as I carry on. “Not only are you my client, but you are also in a very emotionally vulnerable place. And there’s your husband…”
She winces at the sound of my words and I desperately wish I could make all her problems disappear. “You should probably go but I do want to discuss this further. What happened here today changes everything. And there’s a reason it happened… we need to talk about it.”
She nods without a word.
“And we’ll attempt the obstacle course again. Buddy was just a bit gun-shy following the incident with Blaze. It’ll go much better next time. I promise.”
She smiles again. It’s just a small grin but my heart swells at the sight. “Will I see you at Trevor’s birthday party tomorrow?” I ask, knowing it will probably be awkward but desperately wanting her there.
Her grin widens. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I got him a Lego helicopter. Amber told me it was on his wish list.”
I smile. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
We fall into silence and with a quick wave of her hand and a soft lingering smile, she’s out the door.
Her happiness is all I want. It’s even more important than my own. This is foreign to me. I’ve never cared about a woman this much. I’ve never been so emotionally invested. I’ve never loved a woman before.
I bury my face in my hands and scratch at my beard. Fuck, this is wrong for so many reasons. But there’s nothing to be done about it.
No matter how inconvenient or inappropriate it is, it is what it is. I love Jade Williams.
Jade
I wake up early Saturday morning. I take five minutes to lounge in bed and enjoy the warmth of Ginger at my feet. The sun streams through the small window in my cozy room, and I study the walls and ceiling – all odd angles and flowery wallpaper. I wonder if Ruby misses her room. Judging by the looks of that beautiful mansion across the street she now lives in, I highly doubt it.
But then, you never know. I once had my own little castle and I was miserable.
I promised Amber I would help set up the party. We all have our roles to play and I’m so thankful they’ve included me in their celebrations. It’s actually kind of crazy how excited I am about this party. I don’t have nieces and nephews and neither does Michael. None of our friends had kids, or rather I sho
uld say his friends. The friends I had when I was younger have kids, but I’ve lost contact with them a long time ago. I’ve never been part of a family like this. I’ve always been very much alone.
My heart aches at the thought of not really belonging here either. I know this is temporary – a transitory stop until I get my life together again. I just haven’t figured out how I’m going to do that yet.
I slip into some comfy black leggings and a cashmere sweater. October has been unusually warm this year but it’s starting to cool down a bit.
The delicious kitchen smells pull me in. I bound down the stairs and as I round the corner into the kitchen, I’m greeted by Amber, Aiden, Trevor and Ruby. They’re all busy getting breakfast ready; a whirling blender full of smoothie, bread in the toaster, and freshly baked muffins. Amber is frying some eggs and bacon and Ruby is playing with Trevor at the kitchen table. My mouth waters at the sight – Michael would have none of this. Thankfully, I’m wearing leggings and they can stretch as much as they want. I just don’t care anymore.
Aiden is the first one to spot me. “Good morning, Jade.”
“Good morning.”
Everyone turns to me with a smile. ‘Good mornings’ all around. When I first got here, mornings like this were awkward – I felt like I was intruding in their private family life. Perhaps it’s Ruby’s presence but I don’t feel ill-at-ease at all today.
“Can I do anything to help?” I ask, wanting to make myself useful.
“No thanks,” Amber replies with a warm grin. “Just sit yourself down and let us spoil you a bit. I’ll make you a scrambled egg in a minute, and I made those blueberry muffins you like.”
“God, you are too nice.” I’ve been here less than three weeks and she already knows all my favourites. “You’re making me feel guilty.”
Ruby laughs. “I know exactly what you mean. She’s too much… but she loves it.”
“Well, everyone loves it too,” I say.
