The Free

by K. Webster

  Focus.

  I can think about food later.

  Right now, I want to think about him.

  His chest, bare and sculpted. Broad shoulders. Golden hair hanging down around his face. Mischievous green eyes. Heavily defined muscles in his abdomen that seem to point to his cock. And teeth. He has such lovely, white teeth.

  I press the button on the light stick and it starts buzzing. Knowing exactly where I want the device, I rub it over my panties, right along the slit. My body lights up with anticipation. The nub is easy to find as it pulsates with the need for attention. I caress the area through my panties, letting the vibrations shoot spikes of bliss through me. It’s an exhilarating feeling. I’m close to the edge of happiness when I hear the front door open.

  I don’t stop.

  Not when I hear my name called.

  Not when footsteps thump down the hall.

  Not when I feel his heated stare on me.

  My eyes drift to his. Shock. Anger. Hunger. His features morph as he processes what I’m doing. I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from crying out. My hips lift and rotate, seeking out the ultimate pleasure I know is coming. Through his jeans, I see the clear outline of his cock. Hard and at attention. I lick my lips, fixated on the size of it. I’m about to lose control when the buzzing slows.

  Slows.

  Slows.

  Stops.

  I growl and Atticus laughs.

  My chest heaves with exertion and I frantically mash at the button.

  “The batteries died. Those things are cheap,” he says, prowling my way, an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ll have to get you more batteries.”

  “Now,” I order.

  He laughs again. “Next time I’m in town. I don’t have any of that kind.”

  A hopeless, horrified sound rattles up my throat.

  His thighs touch the side of the bed and he absently runs his knuckle up my leg from my knee to my thigh. “I could help.”

  I sit up on my elbows, shocked at his words. “You will touch me?”

  In this moment, there’s no hesitation. It’s like when we’re in the dark. His eyes have a predatory glint that doesn’t frighten me. It excites me. I start to push down my panties, but he halts me with a gentle pat to my hand.

  “Keep them on. I need…I need insurance.”

  I don’t know what insurance is, but I trust him. I give him a curt nod.

  “Scoot to the middle of the bed,” he instructs before peeling off his sweatshirt.

  My eyes are glued to his muscular chest as I obey his command. He kicks out of his boots before climbing on the bed. I stare in awe as his muscles tighten and ripple with each move he makes. His large, powerful hands that are cold from being outside grip my knees and he parts me.

  Before I can ask what he’s doing, he drops close to my center and inhales me. A thrill shoots up my spine with anticipation. His nose rubs against my sensitive nub through the material. I arch my back, letting out a breathy moan.

  “You smell good,” he growls. His tongue darts out and he teases the nub with it. Even over my panties, it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt.

  “Atticus,” I croak out, my fingers diving into his hair.

  He nibbles at the nub and when he gets it between his teeth, he playfully tugs. Then, his tongue swipes back out, teasing the throbbing flesh. His finger hooks into the side of the panties and he pulls it aside. The moment his tongue meets my bare flesh, I squeal. Green, blazing eyes lock with mine, silently asking me questions.

  Am I okay?

  “Don’t stop,” I breathe. I know he needs the words and I’m not afraid to say them.

  His tongue begins lapping at the juices leaking from my body. He sucks and licks and slurps, hungry for everything I have to give. I arch off the bed when he spears me with his tongue, much like a cock would. It’s hot and wet and slippery—the most chaotic explosion of sensations I’ve ever known. His tongue drifts lower and he teases my other hole. Whiskers scratch and tickle my soft skin on my inner thighs. He’ll make me raw with them and that’s okay as long as he doesn’t stop.

  I lose all sense of reality as he devours each hidden part of me. My ache consumes me. I’m feverish with the need to be eaten alive by my big bear. He finds my nub again, greedy and ravenous. The tip of his finger teases at my slippery hole and then he slides it inside of me. He’s thick and my body stretches to accommodate him.

  I’m unsure why my body responds positively to him, but I don’t question it. I live in this moment, giving him full control to bring me pleasure. His finger curls up inside me, pressing into a part of me that makes me see stars.

  “Oh,” I gasp out. “Ohhhh!”

  He nips at my throbbing flesh, moving his finger with expert precision inside of me. Everything turns black before exploding with color. I scream out his name as I thrash in pleasure, my entire body convulsing from it. I’m still trembling when he pulls his finger out and rights my panties. Then, he presses a kiss on the nub before sitting up on his knees.

  I’m about to pull him on top of me and let him do things I’ve never wanted before when he bolts off the bed. He nearly trips over his boots and then he rushes into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. The shower turns on. I climb off the bed on shaky legs, trailing after him. When I try the door, I find it locked.

  Hurt burns inside me. My eyes prickle with tears. I press my ear to the door and listen to the soft moans as he finds his own pleasure. Alone.

  I would have given it to him.

  He didn’t have to shut me out.

  Blind Bear whines from the corner of the room. Defeated, I push out of my panties and hunt down a new pair. I’ll wear Atticus down eventually. He won’t have to train me how to be a good wife as I already know. With him, I want to be one.

  I throw on my jeans and a black sweatshirt before finding some striped pink socks. I love the clothes Judith sent for me. The rags I wore before stank and had holes in them. These all feel so soft and fit me perfectly and have bright colors. I pull on the boots she sent and then locate the big black coat. Once I’m bundled up, I call for Blind Bear and we step outside. I shove my hands in my pockets to retrieve my gloves and then grip my knife inside.

  The cold air bites at my face. It’s harsh and unforgiving. Trapped inside with Atticus, I become some other girl. Not the same one who lived each day with one goal in mind. Survival. Now, I enjoy small moments, but something feels incomplete. Is it because he still pushes me away when all I want is to be wrapped around him? I still crave the exhilaration out there, but without him, it feels incomplete too.

  I need to hunt.

  Sure, I could go inside right now and eat macaroni and cheese. Another wonderful creation by the human race. It would be delicious and warm my soul. Atticus calls it comfort food and he’s right about that.

  Comfort makes you stupid, though.

  What happens if he decides he no longer wants me in his home? When he deems I’m healed, will he take me back to my little shack in the woods and drop me off? I will be spoiled to the ease of town living and my survival instincts will suffer the blow.

  I need practice.

  I need to remember that I can still do it.

  Step after step, I walk deeper into the snowy forest. It’ll be dark soon. I should turn back. Instead, I find a tree that I can rip the thin limbs from. Perfect length and width to make a trap. The squirrels and rabbits are plentiful near his home, and I could use some new pelts for when I have to leave.

  I’d be foolish not to start collecting and stockpiling supplies for that moment. Shame burns in my gut. I’ve become complacent. No more. I’ll start gathering and preparing for my departure so I’m not caught off guard.

  Blind Bear whines as though he can sense my unhappiness. I bend to scratch him behind his ears.

  “Don’t worry,” I coo. “I’m taking you when I go. You belong out there with me.”

  “Eve!”

  Blind Bear whi
mpers, turning his head back toward the cabin.

  “He won’t come with us,” I mutter, breaking the sad news to my dog. “Just you and me.”

  “Eve!”

  Blind Bear, unable to ignore Atticus, barks and takes off running toward him. I follow him from the thicket, dropping a few of the limbs I collected at the tree line to grab later. Atticus stands on the porch, his hair still wet, and barely dressed. His expression is wild and worried. My stomach flutters.

  “What?”

  He frowns. “Don’t what me, woman. Get back in the house before you freeze your ass off.”

  My brow hikes up as I drag my gaze down his front. He has a sweatshirt on and sweatpants. His feet are bare. His body shakes against the cold.

  “I have a coat and shoes and gloves. You have nothing.” I smirk at him.

  With a roll of his eyes, he motions for me to come back inside. I follow after him and once the door is closed, I inspect the small cabin.

  I feel trapped.

  Like a small rabbit that ran into a shelter for the promise of food, only to discover there was no way out.

  “I can’t stay here any longer,” I admit, tears stinging my eyes. “I can’t.”

  He scowls and shakes his head. “We’ll go into town. A nice change of routine will do you some good.”

  I would think he misunderstands me, but the intense, challenging glare states otherwise. He knows what I mean and doesn’t want to hear of it.

  “Atticus…”

  “Is it because I touched you? Because of what we did?” His cheeks tinge pink and panic dances in his green eyes.

  “I liked that.” What I didn’t like was that he ran from it.

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “I liked that too.” His palm scrubs down his face. “I’m out of my depth here, Eve. I want…I want things I shouldn’t. I’m too weak to turn away from them. When I see you—kiss and touch you—I don’t see the fact you’re a teenager. I just see you.”

  “I see you too.”

  “How old are you?” he asks, his eyes pleading.

  I don’t know what the right answer here is, though. He seems to think there’s an acceptable age I must be and if I haven’t reached it, he doesn’t want any part of me.

  “Old enough to marry and bear children.”

  He snorts. “That doesn’t answer my question. Sixteen?”

  Is this the number he wishes for?

  “Yes.”

  His body tenses, which means I’ve chosen the wrong number. I’m about to bark out some other numbers to see if those are the correct ones, but he stops me by pulling me to him for a hug.

  “I can’t…we can’t do that stuff anymore, Eve. It’s not right.”

  The finality in his voice makes my chest ache. I knew it was coming. I could feel it in my bones. Still, I wasn’t ready for his words to feel so final and unbreakable.

  “But I liked when your mouth was on my nub and inside me,” I murmur.

  His cock is hard between us. “I liked that too, but that was before I really knew how old you were. It was a mistake. I’m a fucking adult and responsible for you right now. I need to act like one.” He pets my hair and kisses the top of my head. “No more of that stuff.”

  I tremble in his arms. “Do I have to leave now?”

  He grips my shoulders and pushes me away to glare at me. “What? You think because I can’t fuck you like I’m losing my mind to that I’ll kick you to the curb? I may have crossed the line with you, but I’m not an asshole. Of course you’re not leaving.”

  “Okay.”

  His gaze softens as he stares for a long moment. I stare right back, drinking up every lovely detail of him. When he’s had his fill, he smiles.

  “I’m taking you out. You need a change of scenery.”

  “Out hunting?”

  “No, Eve. I’m going to let you be a teenage girl. Take you out for burgers and a movie or something. Something normal. You need to experience the world some.”

  Normally, that thought would terrify me.

  But boredom has me nodding my head.

  This earns me a devilish smile that makes my knees nearly wobble beneath me.

  “Be ready to go in ten minutes.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Sixteen.

  Sixfuckingteen.

  The unknown was better. Then, I could pretend and deny the fact she was young. We never knew how old she was, but Reed and I had our own ideas. He thought she was younger and I thought she was older. The average age we came up with recently was sixteen. I’d hoped she was eighteen, but that hope was for nothing. And unlike Reed, I’m not all about fucking a teenager.

  My dick jolts at the memory of how she whimpered and begged when I had my mouth on her cunt. So maybe I am all about fucking a teenager, but that doesn’t mean I’m actually going to do it. I just secretly crave it. A fucking fantasy I’ll never live out.

  Focus.

  She needs to get out of the cabin because she’s going stir crazy. I need to get out of the cabin so I don’t pounce on her and put my dick in her. We need space and normalcy.

  “Will Blind Bear be okay while we’re gone?” she asks, frowning as we trudge through the snow toward my truck.

  “He looked mighty cozy in the middle of my bed,” I grumble. “Besides, we can’t take that dog with us everywhere we go in town. We’ll only be gone a couple of hours. He’ll be fine.”

  I open her truck door and then grab her tiny hips, hoisting her into the cab. She weighs nothing despite the food she’s been inhaling all week. At least she doesn’t look so gaunt and bony anymore.

  After turning on the truck, I wait for the heater to blast. Once it’s cozy, I hop back out to scrape the windows free of ice. It takes about fifteen minutes, but eventually, we’re ready to go.

  “Music?” I ask, reaching for the dial.

  She nods. “Led Zeppelin.”

  “There’s my girl.” I wince at my words, but she doesn’t seem to notice. I scroll through my satellite radio until I find a Led Zeppelin channel. “Whole Lotta Love” starts playing and I drum my fingers on the steering wheel.

  Eve grins at me.

  Fuck.

  This girl is inside me now and I don’t know how to get her out.

  I have to get her out.

  As much as I’d love to taste that forbidden fruit, I don’t feel like going to prison over it. Suma was wrong. I won’t cross the line.

  The drive to town is long because of all the snow. We pass by several shops on Main Street that are lit up. Her eyes are glued to the sights, drinking them all in. A flutter of pride flits through me knowing I’m giving this gift to her. The smile on my face falls the moment we pass by the police station. Will’s truck sits out front. I haven’t told Will I’m back in town, but I’m sure Mom passed on that tidbit of information. I’ll need to call him just to keep him from dropping in for a surprise visit.

  Suma caught me defiling Eve. With her, I got dirty looks. With Will, he’d put my ass in cuffs. Will doesn’t play around with that shit. Brother or not, he’d lock my ass up.

  “There’s a great restaurant here in town called Muskies. Has a little of everything. Sound good?”

  “Peanut butter?” she asks, her eyes wide and shining.

  “Babe, peanut butter is so easy to come by, it’s not even funny.” I wince at the pet name. “Muskies has other good stuff. New stuff you haven’t tried. I promise you’ll love it.”

  “Yes.”

  I laugh. “Okay then.”

  The parking lot is nearly empty, which works for me. I wasn’t really looking forward to an audience. This town is too small. Everyone knows everyone. I’d be hit with a barrage of questions I wasn’t ready to answer.

  We climb out and I place my hand on her back to guide her inside. I’m not familiar with the hostess, which makes me sigh in relief. She walks us over to a booth in a dark corner. Eve sits down on one side. When I start for the other side, she shakes her head.

&nb
sp; “No.”

  “If we sit on the same side—”

  “Here,” she says in her bossy, stubborn voice, slapping the leather with her hand.

  I start to put my foot down and tell her it wouldn’t be appropriate, but then I see the slight tremble in her hand. She’s nervous. And here I am wanting to abandon her ass.

  “Right,” I grumble. “As you wish, my queen.”

  Her smile is a breathtaking reward that I happily take. Once I’m seated, she scoots closer, resting her head to my shoulder. So much for boundaries.

  “Hiya there,” a waiter says as he struts over to our table. He doesn’t look any older than my nephew Evan.

  “Hey,” I grunt out.

  “What can I get you and your beautiful daughter to drink?”

  I freeze at his words and snap my head up to look at him. The kid is staring goofily at Eve. Lovesick kind of goofy. Possessiveness coils around my heart and sinks its teeth in.

  “She’s not my daughter,” I say in a low, threatening tone.

  The kid, completely clueless, shrugs. “Cool. We have Pepsi products.”

  “What do you want to drink?” I ask Eve, not sounding unlike a father. That grates on my nerves. Eve’s not some idiot kid like this one taking our drink order.

  “What you have,” she squeaks out.

  “Two Mountain Dews. And some mozzarella cheese sticks to get us started.”

  The kid tips his head and saunters off. I crave to wrap my arm around her and pull her against me so he’ll know she’s mine.

  She’s not mine.

  Still not my fucking daughter, though.

  “This place is strange,” Eve tells me. “He prepares the food for us?”

  “Not exactly. He tells the cook what to prepare.”

  “Like I tell you when I want oatmeal?”

  I chuckle. “Kinda like that.” Then, because I’m curious about her reaction, I say, “That kid liked you.”

  Her brows furl. “Liked?”