by Penny Wylder
“That was…” a shy smile appears on her face, and she blushes, hiding her face in my chest.
I laugh. “I don’t know if you get to blush after I just fucked you in the ass.”
“I know,” she says, but she’s still hiding.
I pull her further onto my chest so that her face is level with mine, and I’m very aware of the fact that this position presses her breasts up against my skin. “I want to sculpt you.”
Anna’s face goes slack with shock. “What?”
“I want to sculpt you,” I say, tucking my hand behind her neck so that she can’t hide or look away. “You can help me pick out the wood, and then you’ll pose while I recreate you.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“Why not?” She looks uncomfortable, and she tries to look away. I don’t let her. “Anna?”
There’s a little shake of her head before she responds. “I’m not worth that.”
A flare of anger rises in my chest at her reaction. But after everything she’s lost, I can understand why she might feel that way. “I disagree,” I say, pulling her face closer to mine. “You’re beautiful, and you stuck around here when I thought you’d give up the first day. I think you’re going to make an absolutely stunning sculpture. And of course,” I grin, “there’s the added benefit that I get to look at you during the process.”
She stiffens. “What do you mean?”
“I want to sculpt you in nothing but these curves.” I draw my fingers up her hips for emphasis.
She turns bright red. “But you’re R. L. Mackenzie. Any sculpture you do…people are going to see it.”
I shrug. “Maybe I won’t sell it. But I think once you see what I’m imagining, you’ll be happy enough for the world to see it.”
Anna senses the challenge in my words—I’ve learned that she likes challenges—and she smiles. “In that case, you’re on.”
It’s rare for me to find a birch tree large enough for one of my sculptures, but a few weeks ago I found one that’s perfect. And I think it’s ideal for my sculpture of Anna. I’m out of the house before she’s even awake, chopping off the smaller limbs and making it more manageable. I’m not even sure how much time has passed when she wanders out of the house in one of her new flannel shirts, looking tousled and cute as hell. “Morning,” I call.
“Morning,” she says through a yawn. “You didn’t wake me.”
“I thought you’d earned your rest,” I say, grinning. She doesn’t respond, just smiles a little shyly as she comes over. “This is your tree.”
“Oh?”
I hold out my hand. “Do you want to help me finish it?”
“What do I do?”
She lets me pull her in so her back is against my chest. I hand her the axe and put my hands over hers. “Just need to chop it down to size. Swing with me.”
I guide our arms back and up and together we swing down, burying the axe into the wood. Again and again I guide her hands, and I can feel the force that she’s adding to the axe—it’s not nothing. And as she pushes down on the axe, her ass presses back into my cock in a way that’s distracting. But I’d chop wood all day if I could have Anna up against me.
One final swing, and the log splits in two, falling to either side. Anna immediately jumps away and turns, fire her in her eyes. “That was fun.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I felt powerful. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that. Like the last time I was in a courtroom and arguing a case. I’d forgotten what that felt like.”
“Good,” I say, pressing a kiss to her lips. “It’s time for the next step.”
She’s bouncing on her toes. “And what’s that?”
“Posing.”
Anna freezes. “Oh.”
“You’re going to be great.”
I see her swallow, and I hope she can hold onto that feeling of power that she just had. “What do you need me to do?”
“Just meet me in the studio. Naked.”
As she turns and walks towards the house, I can’t help but watch her ass swing in those jeans. What happened last night—we’ll be doing that again soon.
13
Anna
Robert has now seen me naked almost as much as he’s seen me clothed. But still, standing in the workshop naked while he looks at me like that feels entirely different. The giant piece of pale wood is set up on his carving station, and I can’t comprehend how that’s going to look like me, but he swears it will. I’ve been standing in the corner, bathed in sunlight for a fun five minutes while he stares at me, and he hasn’t said a thing.
It feels like forever before he moves. But then he does, coming to me with purpose. He arranges my hair around my shoulders, and then my arms. One draped across my chest, almost hiding my breasts, but not quite. The other across my stomach. Then he bends one of my knees slightly. He smiles then, and kisses me softly. “That’s it.” My body follows him a little as he pulls away, and he chuckles. “Keep your eyes on me. We’ll just get the shape today.”
When he starts to cut the wood, it’s like he turns into a different person, or at least a side I haven’t seen before. He’s full of focus, looking at me like I’m the key to something that he’s trying to find. The way he works is swift and efficient, and I wonder if he works this quickly when he doesn’t have a subject that he’s working from. I lose track of the time, watching him work, and when he steps back from the much smaller piece of wood, I realize that I’m starting to go stiff.
There’s only a very vague shape to the wood now, planes and angles that I suppose I could maybe see how they’ll shrink down into a body? But I’m not sure.
Robert stretches, and I’m distracted by the strip of skin that shows when his shirt pulls up. “I think we’re down for the day.”
“Okay,” I say, dropping the pose. I give in to the urge to stretch too.
Robert sweeps me up into his arms. “I’m going to feed you, and then I’m taking you to bed. And tomorrow, we’ll do it again.”
I smile, because that sounds perfect in a way that nothing has in a really long time.
The days in the cabin fall into a rhythm. Robert and I wake up curled around each other, and we eat breakfast together before we do our chores. In the afternoon, Robert works on the sculpture. It takes shape before my eyes, and I’m in awe of the way he draws my shape out of the wood. I am in awe too, of how he looks at me, and marvel that something so beautiful is supposed to be based off me.
Sometimes in the evening we bathe in the giant tub, soaking in the heat until the water prunes our fingers. And of course, there’s the sex. We fall into bed together at the end of the day and there’s pleasure that blows my mind. Robert has absolutely kept his promise of two orgasms per day, and it’s usually more. On more than one occasion he’s stopped sculpting and taken me because the heat that was building between us was too much to ignore.
It’s not long before I realize that I’m falling in love with this man. Everything about him speaks to who I am. I learn more about him and his family, and more details about why he left. He doesn’t hate his brothers, but is fed up with the fact that they tolerate his father’s behavior. The depth of his love for art inspires me. We talk about my life, and what happened, and how it might be possible for me to get my career back.
But the longer I stay out here, the longer I realize that Robert was right. I needed to clear my head. And even though I lost everything, maybe it was worth losing. I’ve been happier this month than I have been in years. I never thought that a life away from a city would be my thing, but it’s been…refreshing. And of course, being with Robert has been the icing on that cake.
But today is day twenty-nine, and I have a ball of dread in my stomach. I don’t want this to end, but I know that it has to. When we ended the carving session today all that was left were the tiny details. Smoothing the line of my hips and doing some refining around my eyes. Other little things too that I’ve already forgo
tten, but Robert knows.
When we went to bed, neither of us spoke about the fact that it was our last night together. Or the fact that he made this deal with me, never imagining that we’d actually get to the end of it. But now that we’re here…
I can’t do it.
It’s fully dark, and Robert’s arm is around my stomach possessively. I love the way it feels, and I don’t ever want it to end. But how can I be that selfish? I came out here to retrieve Robert Logan, the wayward son of a millionaire who has money to burn. I did it so I could get back the life I’d lost. Instead, I’ve fallen in love with the real Robert Logan, the artist and mountain man, who had good reasons for leaving. There are other ways that I can get money. I can’t justify dragging Robert back to a life he hates so I can get back a life I’m not sure I even want anymore. Which is why I have to leave.
Now. Otherwise, he’s not going to let me go.
Robert’s breathing is smooth and even, and I’ve laid beside him enough that I know he’s deeply asleep. I slip out from underneath his arm and pull on my clothes quickly. My bag is already in my truck—a part of the bargain since I agreed to cut myself off from the outside world. The dread in my gut only gets heavier as I creep silently down the stairs and let myself out into the cool of the night. This isn’t what I want, but Robert is too honorable and I know he won’t go back on his word.
It’s the only way I can help him. So I take a deep breath and close the door behind me.
14
Robert
When I wake up, my body knows something is wrong. Anna isn’t next to me, and the bed feels cold without her.
I stretch, and listen for the sounds of her getting ready. Sounds I’ve grown used to. I don’t hear the shower running. She must be in the kitchen—maybe cooking breakfast. Maybe she’ll be wearing nothing but one of my shirts. I think it’s my favorite thing to see her in, ass barely showing beneath the shirt, just waiting for me to haul it up and see what’s underneath. And damn, I love what’s underneath. Yes, love.
It hit me like a ton of bricks the other day, that this little lawyer crashed into my life and stole the one thing I’d never thought I’d actually give away. My heart.
I’m a cliché.
I pull on a pair of pants and head down the stairs, but I don’t hear any of the telltale sounds of cooking. The entire cabin is quiet. Not quiet, silent. Anna isn’t in the kitchen, and I know she’s not in the bedroom. The hairs on my arms raise and I head to the back door to look. But she’s not there. Something in my gut knew that I wouldn’t find her there. There’s an absence of her presence in the air, like she’s completely gone.
Sudden, pure fear rolls through me and I feel nauseous. I look at the calendar and I feel sick. Today was the day. The final day of our deal. I’d been so engrossed in her, so in love with her and the little life we’d carved out that I’d forgotten that it was so soon. Pushing open the door to the cabin, I see what I already know that in my gut: Anna’s truck is gone. She went back to the city. And I know she didn’t go back to suck up to my father. Not after everything we learned about each other.
Another wave of sickness rolls through me. She went back to tell him she couldn’t find me. To tell him that it’s over. She’s giving me the freedom that I took. Because Anna has the biggest heart of anyone I know, she knew I wouldn’t let her go alone. That I’d insist she complete the deal and get what she’s owed. So she left. I’m already climbing the stairs and changing my clothes before I’ve even made the decision to go. But of course I’m going, because I love her, and I’m not going to let my father destroy her. She belongs with me, here, and if she doesn’t want that she at least deserves to get back the life she lost. I’m not going to stand in the way of that.
I grab my keys and hop in my truck. There’s only two hours between me and the woman I love, and that’s two hours too many.
I hoped I’d never have to see my father’s office building again, but here I am. Nobody even questions the fact that I walk through security without a pass, they know who I am. They probably know that my father is looking for me. And I worked here enough years to be recognized. Anna is already here—I saw her name in the visitor log. She only checked in a half-hour ago. If I’m lucky, my father is busy today and hasn’t even had a chance to see her yet.
But I’m not lucky. She’s not in the waiting area, and I ignore my father’s secretary and her shocked face as I push past her and down the hall. There’s anger boiling in my gut now, because I can already hear the yelling.
“You’re telling me that you saw him? That you had him and you’re not bringing him in? You stupid bitch, what do you think I’m paying for? Where is he?”
I can’t hear what Anna says, but it’s not the right thing.
“Tell me where he is,” my father bellows, “or I promise, it’s the last thing you’ll ever do in this town.”
Yanking open the door to his office, I step inside. “No need to shout, Dad, I’m right here.” I’m doing my best to keep my anger under the surface, but it’s not working. Anna whips around in the chair she’s sitting in, shocked to see me.
My father freezes, stunned into silence. But he recovers after a second. “Well, it’s about time. I’m sure Miss Collins told you how long I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?”
“Why?” My father sneers. “Because you’re my son, and I need you here.”
I have to tighten my hands into fists to keep from rolling my eyes. “Dad, I’ve never shown interest in helping you run this business. And despite the fact that I’ve told you this—repeatedly—you’re not getting it. How does it not sink in that if I go to the trouble of completely removing myself from the grid just to get away from you that I want nothing to do with you or this business?”
“But—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You’re a greedy son of a bitch. Your only goal in life is to have power over others, no matter the cost. The way you treat people is disgusting. You manipulate people so they owe you, and then you don’t give them what you owe them. You do it to your family, too. You take advantage of the way Mom loves you.” I see his face darken, but I can’t stop now. “I don’t know why she’s still with you, but I can’t watch while she loves a bastard like you. If you really want someone in the family to run the business, talk to Tom and Sam.”
My father’s face explodes with rage. “I’m not giving those traitorous little bastards anything.”
For a second I freeze. Clearly something has changed since I was last here. “Good,” I say. “Then there are two less people under your thumb.” There’s a cavernous silence in the room, and I finally sigh. “But I suppose in one way I have to thank you.”
“And how’s that?” my father asks, voice laced with poison.
My eyes are on Anna and his are on me. “If you hadn’t sent Anna to drag me home, I never would have fallen in love with her.” I see her breath catch. “And I’ll come back and work for this company if you promise to give her what she needs. I know you can do that.”
An evil grin crosses my father’s face, because he’s won and he knows it. But I don’t have a choice.
“No,” Anna says, standing. “No, Robert, that’s not what I want.” She comes to me quickly, and I catch her by the arms. It’s like she’s so shocked that she’s having a hard time standing. “I love you, too. You were right. I needed to get out of my head and the obsession with wanting everything back.” Her voice is quiet now. “I never thought I could be happy without that, but now I can’t imagine anything else.” There are tears in her eyes. “Take me home, please.”
I kiss her, and I don’t give a damn that my father is watching, because he’s nothing. Less than nothing. Kissing Anna feels like coming home, and I hadn’t realized just how afraid I was that I was wrong, that she wouldn’t want to come back, that she wouldn’t want to be with me. I pull back and look at my father. His face is so red it’s bordering on purple. He’s furious. “Get. Out.” he spits.
/> “With pleasure.”
I wrap my arms around Anna’s shoulder and guide her out, and I hear the crash of something breaking behind us. My father’s secretary still looks shocked and disturbed when we walk past, straight into the elevator. The doors are barely closed when I have her against the wall. “You terrified me,” I say, pulling her mouth to mine. “When you weren’t there…”
“I couldn’t do that to you,” she says. “I couldn’t make you give up your life for something I don’t even want.”
“Next time talk to me.”
She shakes her head. “There’s not going to be a next time. I’m not leaving again.”
“Good.” I flip her around so her she’s facing the elevator wall and slam the button to stop the elevator.
“What are you doing?” she gasps, breathless.
Hiking up her skirt, I run my fingers along her pussy, and I smile. She’s wet. “I need to be inside you.”
“Here?” her voice goes up an octave. “What about your father?”
“Here. He doesn’t have the balls to call security on me, and I need this.” I unzip my jeans, push her panties to the side and fit myself against her, thrusting in in one stroke. It’s heaven, so familiar and so perfect and I groan, pressing her harder into the wall. Anna is breathing in little pants of need, and I don’t hold back. I fuck her fast and hard, and I feel Anna trembling, see her biting her lip to keep quiet. “Scream, baby,” I say. “We’re not coming back.”
“God, yes!” she says as I plunge again, and she only gets louder, moaning and saying my name as I drive harder, deeper, and I’m teetering on the edge, riding that peak as long as possible. I slow down, drawing it out, and I can feel that she’s close.
“Come with me,” I say.
Anna begs, “Please.”
I thrust in again, and one more time. “Now.”
She screams, body going tight and still as the orgasm rocks through her, and I come too, pouring myself deep inside, flooding her pussy with my come. She spasms around me, milking my cock and it’s so damn good. I hold her tight against me while we finish, both of our juices running down her legs and onto the floor. “Fuck, Robert,” Anna says.
