Good Enough to Trust (Good Enough, Book 2 - Going Back)

by Stoneley, Zara

  “You off in any particular direction? Or are you open to a diversion?”

  Okay, he did get girls in this far western part of Great Britain, just not girls like me. Girls who got lost and talked to the animals, and looked like they needed a handbag.

  “Well, I was heading for St. Nectan’s Glen, but I think I’ve taken a wrong turning.”

  “You’ve taken a turning, not so sure it’s a wrong one though. No one goes up there this time of year. It’ll be shut for a start.”

  Neither of us moved, still only inches apart.

  “I wasn’t going to the tea rooms.”

  “Whole thing’ll be shut, too dangerous for emmets.” The boyish grin was back, but his brown eyes weren’t quite joining in. Sure, there were crinkles at the corners, but he looked like a far more serious bunch of thoughts were jingling in his brain. I swallowed and that familiar deep down coiling in my stomach started up. The one that started up when a sexy man got that brooding look on his face. We could shag, here on the hillside and no one would know. We wouldn’t be hurting anyone, it would just be fun, and because we both wanted it. I glanced down, more to distract myself than anything. He had wellies on, I’d never been shagged by a man in green wellies before. I shook my head to try and dislodge the thought of those strong arms holding me in position on the bonnet of his Landrover. There was a pause, and I wondered whether he liked to keep his fantasies to himself or make them real.

  “Emmet?” I had to ask, even though a part of me was screaming out, too many words already.

  “Y’know, a grockle, tourist.” His tone was steady, but he definitely had his mind on something else.

  “And there was I thinking you were a nice boy.” I tried to look judgemental and probably failed.

  “I am. I just saved you from my bullocks.”

  Which made me think of something I didn’t want saving from.

  “And you were, technically speaking, trespassing. Path goes way over there.” He waved his stick in the general direction of the hills behind me.

  “Ah.” I knew I should have grabbed a map, but I’d thought it couldn’t be that difficult to find my way. It had been easy enough last time. When I had Ollie holding my hand and the warmth of the sun against my back making me feel all languid and sexed up.

  “Why would a girl like you be heading up there anyway, specially this time of year?”

  Now there was a question, and one I wasn’t sure I could answer. It was the start of sorting myself out, the place I thought might give me some answers, help me think. When I’d been there last time there was something so calm, so other-worldly about the place, it had struck me as somewhere you could find peace. And that was before it had all gone so very wrong. But I couldn’t say any of that to him, now could I?

  “It was nice last time I went, I promised myself I’d go back.” I shrugged and shifted my feet awkwardly. “I forgot Cornwall was so damp this time of year.”

  “I can take you if you want?”

  Which took me a bit by surprise.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing whatever you do with your bullocks?”

  “I’d rather be doing something with you.”

  He looked almost bashful for a second, almost. Who’d have thought a man in wellies could be so direct?

  “You’d risk being seen with an emmet?” I gave him my mock, horrified look and he went back to what I took to be his normal laidback relaxed state, which made me wonder just how he’d be in bed. No rushing this man would be my guess.

  “Nothing ventured. Anyhow you don’t strike me as much of a tourist, and you’ve come the wrong time of year to qualify. You know why they’re called emmets?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “Come for a beer and I’ll try my best.” He straightened up which took him another couple of inches away.

  So, no quickie against the wall with his wellies on. Which was kind of disappointing, but probably for the best.

  “I’m Will by the way.” And he held out a big meaty hand, which kind of fitted in with the rest of him.

  I took it and the strength of those short, blunt fingers seeped straight through me and headed even lower than the swirl in my stomach, and I had a sudden inkling he probably could surprise me.

  He didn’t let go of my hand, just pulled me in the direction of his slightly battered Landrover.

  “I’m Sophie, Soph.”

  “My first girlfriend was called Sofia, met her in Italy.”

  He opened the car door and watched me clamber in. Yeah, I was sure he could surprise me; Italian girls definitely hadn’t been on my radar.

  “So, what happened?”

  He started up the engine and gave me a quizzical look.

  I grinned, because something told me she’d left a mark. “With Sofia?”

  “I met her big, Italian momma and saw the future.” He laughed a low, deep chuckle that made me sure he was thinking about more than the momma. “It was just a first love thing we both grew out of.”

  The engine leapt into life and my new friend, Will, shoved it into gear and started a not-so-slow trundle across the uneven field, and I hung onto the seat and the door, and anything that looked like it wouldn’t move and did my best not to turn into an untidy bundle in the foot well. Talking was not an option.

  We were sitting in the snug of a pub with beer on the table before he said anything else, and when he did it wasn’t quite what I expected. I mean, why are you here? Where do you come from? That kind of thing is normal isn’t it?

  “Ants.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Ants, that’s where the word ‘emmet’ comes from. Whole place gets invaded in the summer, a swarm.” He curled his fingers round his pint as though he wasn’t sure what he should say next.

  I wondered what Holly would make of him if she was here. She liked to label people. Charlie was her surfer dude, Dane her cowboy. Something dark and heavy settled inside me. I missed them. I wanted to be with them, sharing a joke, finding out what they were all up to in Cheshire without me, not soul searching in a part of the country that didn’t seem to want me.

  “You okay?” The brown eyes were surveying me slightly dolefully, steady, gentle. This was a man who could probably be patient, prepared to wait.

  “Sure.”

  Holly would probably say he reminded her of one of his bullocks. Right from his curly shortish hair, spritzed with the damp air, through those broad shoulders and muscled-up arms he was like some stocky bullock. Strong and probably just as skittish when the mood took him. Fun and a bit rough and tumble, which made me wish I’d pushed my luck on the hillside.

  “You here on your own then?”

  I nodded. “You can always tell me to shut up if I’m being too nosy.”

  His knee nudged against mine and it was nice. Secure. Even if he wasn’t the tallest guy in the world I guessed he’d be a safe pair of hands, in every sense of the words, dependable. Which was tempting, even if it wasn’t clever.

  “You here for long?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  I wasn’t, I hadn’t got a clue. Soul searching was like that, hard to put boundaries around.

  “I’m renting a cottage near Halgabron.”

  Frown lines deepened on his wide forehead. “So what took you up that hill? I mean you can—”

  “Get to St. Nectan’s through the wood? I know.” I probably looked sheepish. “I walked up to Boscastle and then wanted to follow the footpath from there up along the top to the waterfall. I’ve done it before. Guess it was a bit silly in this weather.”

  He didn’t remark on the silliness or not of the situation.

  “Good walk.”

  He could have added ‘in the summer’, but he didn’t.

  “Not many people come down here this time of year, you know.” He leaned forward conspiratorially so that I could see the twinkle in his eye. “And there’s a reason for that.”

  I thought back to last time I was here, summer, and it seemed like a diffe
rent time and a different place. But I still liked it, even without the warmth and sunshine, though I wasn’t a hundred percent sure that it liked me. There was something a bit magical about this corner of Cornwall, magical and mystical.

  “I like it without the crowds.”

  “Is that why you’re here, to get away from the crowds?”

  He was looking a bit serious, no twinkle, which was bad news. Looked like Will had hidden depths.

  “Oh, it’s a long story.” I wasn’t going to lie, I really wasn’t. I was here to find myself, not hide from the person I really was and pretend to be the person I’d like to be.

  “Very long?” He sat back, still nursing the pint in one hand and looked like he’d got all the time in the world. Which he probably had, apart from bullock duty.

  “Too long.” I stuck my tongue out at him, which wasn’t mature, but how I felt. A bit of a ‘leave me alone and keep it light’ message.

  “You don’t trust me enough to share it?”

  Ah, that trust thing.

  “You’d be bored. Actually, I’m more interested in how I got lost on your hill, I really thought I knew where I was going.”

  “I’m more interested in why you stopped off to entertain my bullocks.”

  “I like to be sociable.” I sat up in my best prim and proper way. “They’re cute.” I thought about the big brown eyes and furry heads and tried not to think about what they were attached to. I grinned. “A bit like you.”

  He took a gulp of beer and grinned back. This could end up in us both looking like simpletons, or getting laid.

  “Cute eh? I can think of cuter things.” And the way he said it, and the way he looked was so direct my pussy clenched and the same need I’d felt on the hillside came rushing back. I shuffled a bit on my stool and tried not to fall into the simpleton trap or look like a randy teenager.

  “I could give you a guided tour of the waterfall.” He tapped the back of my hand with one strong finger and I had a feeling that it would be the type of tour I wouldn’t forget in a hurry. But I couldn’t go there with him, not yet.

  The thing was it was all a bit silly, from the outside, and even from the inside actually. Maybe I was taking this whole thing too far, but I just felt deep down I had to do everything, retrace every single step, and then maybe I’d understand. Maybe I could move on and have the answers, even if they weren’t the ones I really wanted or fully accepted. Which meant going back was something I had to do on my own.

  “I could give you a guided tour of the cottage I’m renting instead?”

  His warm finger was still resting on the back of my hand and for some strange reason I’d forgotten all about my beer, and what I was here for.

  “Sounds like an idea.”

  We stared at each other, minus the silly grins, and my stomach emptied of everything except anticipation.

  It was a good job the lock was simple, because my hand had a tremor that made handling keys close to impossible. Will laughed in my ear, the warmth of his body against my back, and I shoved the door open impatiently and reached up to switch the lights on. There was an angry pop. A very angry pop. Then nothing.

  “Hell.” Lights were supposed to come on when you flicked the switch, well they did in Sophie’s world, but not it seemed in Halgabron. I flicked the switch another couple of times, like you do, just to be sure.

  “Who needs light anyway?” A warm mouth settled against my neck.

  Well yeah, I didn’t need lights, even if this valley was so damned dark the cottage was in dusk when the rest of the country was still in daylight. But if I’d thought it was cold and damp outside, it was ten times worse inside. A pair of warm hands had settled on my stomach, one reaching down between my thighs and I sighed and leaned back. Right against his unmistakable cock. Hard and ready, and I’d say enormous from the way it felt as it nudged between my buttocks.

  But even though my pussy was already clenching at the thought of having him inside me, I must have tensed, or something. He blew a raspberry against my neck.

  “Come back to my place, I’ll get someone to come and fix the lights and get the log burning stove going for you in the morning.”

  I tensed a bit more, and I’m not sure if it was because I wanted to, or because I didn’t.

  “I promise I’ll behave.”

  And I believed him. But did I want him to?

  “Give me two minutes to grab some dry clothes and I’m all yours.”

  And he raised an eyebrow which left me feeling pretty sure that behaving was right at the bottom of the list of things I wanted him to do.

  Chapter Two

  Maybe it was because his hands were so strong, or maybe he just had a bit of the Cornish magic about him, but either way I didn’t want him to stop. I gave an involuntary moan.

  “Good?”

  “Mmm.”

  He ran his thumb along my instep again with a strong steady stroke that said feet aren’t just for walking on and I whooshed straight up to the clouds.

  “Is this what you meant by behaving?” My voice had a distinct wobble in it that matched the little trembles heading straight up my inner thigh.

  “I could stop?” He was leaning back, relaxed, even his voice had a lulling edge to it.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  He gave a throaty laugh with a sexy edge to it and I wriggled my feet in his lap, a little bit closer to his crotch. Just to get comfortable of course, not to check out the growing bulge in his pants.

  His thumb circled over my instep, firm enough to send darts of fire straight to my already damp knickers and I hoped the ‘ooo’ hadn’t been as loud in his ears as it had in mine. Warm fingers danced over my calf in spirals that were driving me crazy, and I really didn’t know how much more of this I could stand. The heat hit my inner thighs and I knew damned well why men preferred women in skirts— and I had a feeling I was about to be converted, even though when I’d packed my skirt into my rucksack I hadn’t been able to think of a single good reason why.

  It was tempting, oh so tempting to clamp my thighs together around his strong hand and rock myself to an early orgasm, but instead I bit the inside of my cheek and let him tease me some more. Then the tips of his fingers found the sopping lace of my knickers just as my toes found his rock hard erection and we both knew that the time for playing was over.

  I reached up and ripped my panties down at exactly the same time as he unzipped his flies and let his cock pop out. And boy did it pop. Reporting for duty could never have been more at attention.

  He was hard and rough like I expected, and yet strangely gentle as though he thought I might break, and maybe he was right. And he was enormous, his cock the broadest, sturdiest I’d ever been lucky enough to wrap my fingers around. Which sent a new rush of juices between my thighs.

  His fingers probed a little deeper into my cunt, curling and twisting as his thumb pressed hard against my swollen clit. He was good at foot massage but it was nothing compared to his skills at pussy petting. I lifted my hips and he pushed in a third finger then started to slide them in and out with a steady jabbing that seemed to go deeper every time.

  “Fuck.” I moaned and rubbed my instep frantically against his burning cock and he added a twist to each thrust. And it could have been his knuckles nudging against my G-spot, or just the changing pressure against every other spot but I clenched my thighs together, gripped my pussy round him, holding him there tight as I rocked my hips and let the gentle ripple turn into a pulsing orgasm that left my thighs coated in my juices.

  He waited until the tension had started to drift away and then edged my legs apart again with his free hand, slowly slipped his other one free, and I was still throbbing inside as he did it, still aching as he licked his way up to my swollen clit with a tongue that was gentle and long, he really was the human version of his bullocks.

  The gentle lap turned into a probing and a nibbling of my pussy lips as his fingers dug into my bum, holding me firm. There was a rustling
and I somehow found the energy to open my eyes and look at him.

  “Can’t wait any longer.”

  He was rolling on a condom with the type of care I’d never seen before, maybe he’d split a lot with a cock that size, and I was still wondering and worrying when he nudged against my damp pussy.

  There’s something about that studied concentration on a man’s face as he tries not to rush, tries not to thrust too hard that first time and it’s a turn on. And Will had it in bucket loads, he was gritting his teeth, his arms either side of me supporting him with the faintest tremble and I couldn’t help myself, I wriggled down against him, rubbing myself against him, edging myself onto the tip of his cock, and he let me. Let me wrap my legs around him and edge him in like it was some weird inverted me-on-the-bottom-but-acting-like I-was-on-top position. For a brief scary moment I thought it was going to all go wrong, then he slipped in past my tension and my pussy convulsed around him in a way that made me freeze. He let me cling on, held still until he could see I was starting to relax and then he took over.

  It wasn’t earth shattering, take me to another planet sex. It was careful, measured like a farmer sex. And it was nice, very nice. I closed my eyes and let him fill me, stretch me, let the ache that had started to build again spread through my body. Let him shift us around until I was on top of him and his firm hands held me steady by the hips.

  “Sorry, didn’t realise you had company.”

  And I didn’t realise I had muscles that could grip that hard either, or hands which could move to cover my breasts so quick. Shit, it might have been a lazy drawl but if Will hadn’t been firmly holding me I’d have shot straight off him and the sofa and probably into the fire. I half turned my head and he stood there, a younger, slimmer version of my new farmer friend, lounging in the doorway with a quirk to his full mouth and a bulge in his trousers that said he’d been watching. Which made my act of clutching my breasts look a bit lame.