Riding Wood

by Abigail Graham

  Work. I need to work.

  I might as well capture this energy while I still have it. My supplies are running low.

  I need to visit the art store. It’s a simple practicality. I have no ulterior motive.

  So I mount up in the truck and twist the key too sharply, as if to vent my frustrations. It coughs in the cold in protest but sputters to life anyway, and I drive back down the mountain. I let the task of backwoods driving give me the focus I need not to think about her.

  The art store is a local mom-and-pop shop, not that I care. It used to be the first floor of a sprawling house. The owner and proprietor, a round woman who looks like she used to teach schoolchildren, sits behind the front counter reading a cake decorating magazine and does not acknowledge me.

  She does, however, glance at the source of the voices in the store, annoyance twisting her grandmotherly features.

  “What are we doing here?” a girl’s voice says.

  “I can’t believe we were in the woods,” a boy says back. “It’s freezing. What was the point of this again?”

  I can even recognize Alexa’s exasperated sigh.

  She doesn’t see me as I step to the end of the aisle. The store is cramped, the shelves reaching almost to the ceiling, cramped at their tops with dusty supplies and blocks of clay that have long ago turned to stone, unbought.

  With Alexa’s back turned to me, I see a boy lay his arm across her shoulders. He has a look to him that reminds me of my old classmates from another life. He edges in closer, ignoring the way she stiffens, turns her head to the side, and denies him the kiss he’s so desperate for.

  “Baby, why don’t we worry about the homework later. Let’s head back to our room.”

  “We’re switching rooms,” Alexa says. “I’m not sleeping with you, Bryan. Get over yourself.”

  Liquid rage seethes in my veins. He has no right to touch her. A simple, animalistic instinct takes over and I storm toward him.

  She’s mine.

  She shrugs out from under his arm and storms away, almost walking into me.

  Alexa does the worst thing she possibly could—she gives me a genuine, warm, surprised smile, her face lighting up.

  “You came back?”

  I do the worst thing I possibly could.

  I brush aside the strands of hair from her face and cup her cheek. Then I steal her breath with my kiss.

  Chapter 7

  Alexa

  This must be a dream. It’s so rare that things actually work out that I expect to be yanked awake, my heart pitter-patting with the vestiges of his kiss. Except this wasn’t how I imagined our first kiss: in the art store, my back pressed against the bags of printer paper, the fluorescent lightbulbs burning above me, and Bryan pouting a foot away.

  But not even Bryan could ruin this.

  I taste Lucas’ breath before his lips. My mouth opens in surprise when he descends on me, crushing his lips against mine. Possessive hands curve around my arms, pinning me back against the shelves of glossy printer paper. His thigh slides between my legs and my core reacts violently, clenching hard on a space aching to be filled. His kiss stuns me. Knocks me off my feet.

  He’s kissing me.

  I wrap my arms around his neck as his taste swirls in my mouth. I curl my fingers into his thick hair, inhaling a heady scent. Pine and sweat. It’s like walking through a cloud of man when browsing the men’s department at Macy’s. I hang on to his broad shoulders because every kiss makes my heart want to leap out of my chest. He’s rough, all tongue and bite. I lean into him, and he pulls back only to dig his fingers deeper into my hair. A slight tug from his fist, and our lips break. I breathe deeply, skin tingling from the gusts billowing from his mouth. My mouth is raw from his unshaven jaw. He notices and smoothes my cheek.

  God, that wasn’t just a kiss. There’s something tender in his gaze and in the way he holds me, even as his growing hardness digs into my thigh. I study every wrinkle that creases when he smiles, the rough stubble on his cheek, his slightly swollen lips.

  “Uh,” a grating voice interrupts us. “What the hell, man?”

  Jesus, I forgot he was here.

  I turn around and almost jump because Bryan is standing way too close. He scowls like a toddler denied a treat. He completely extinguishes the glow from kissing Lucas. What a fucking buzzkill.

  He doesn’t walk away, which is too much to ask of Bryan. Nah, I shouldn’t expect him to behave like a fucking adult and not like Lucas pissed on his favorite toy.

  I glare at him for several seconds. “Bryan, this is Lucas.”

  “Cool,” Bryan forces out.

  Why are you still standing here? “He let me stay in his cabin last night.”

  I figure that’ll be the nail in the coffin, the kick in the ass he needs to go away, but of course I’m wrong.

  “Oh,” he says in that kind of voice. Comprehension dawns on his face, and then he has the balls to look pissed off. “Seriously? You gave it up to this guy?”

  Wow. I open my mouth to tell him off, but Lucas gets there before me. “That is none of your damn business.”

  He snarls at Lucas. “No offense, but aren’t you a little too old to be picking up college chicks?”

  Lucas lets a growl slip into his voice. “If I were you I’d take my hurt feelings and fuck off.”

  “It’s an honest question.”

  “And I’m twenty-nine.” Moron, he doesn’t add.

  Now I’m getting annoyed. “Bryan, go away.”

  Wounded, he turns his attention back to me. “Geez, I’m just trying to help.”

  “You’re interrupting,” I snap.

  But he doesn’t get the hint. Instead he puffs out his chest even farther, looking like an emperor penguin. “Look, man, she’s not, like, some piece of meat you can just grab whenever you want.”

  Lucas doesn’t even look at him. He makes Bryan stumble backward as he pushes him aside in the same manner a bear might swat at a cub. A giddy feeling rises in my chest as Lucas wraps his arm around my waist, leading me out of the store.

  “Who the hell is that boy?”

  Are you jealous? “Just a guy who was hoping to pop my cherry on this weekend trip. Seriously. He offered to while I was taking photos in the woods. That’s kind of how I found you.”

  His grip tightens on my waist as we step into the bright sunshine. His fingers seem to burn right through every layer of clothing I’m wearing.

  “Did you get my texts?”

  “You know damn well I did.” He squeezes me. “After I saw those pictures, I couldn’t just let you bunk with some college kid who’d probably blow his load in the first five seconds.”

  “Does that mean you’ll blow your load inside me?”

  I bump into his chest when he suddenly stops. He cradles my head, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “If you don’t stop talking filth and sending me dirty pictures, I might forget that you’re a virgin and bend you over my goddamn car hood.”

  Do it.

  My heart leaps when he guides me toward his pickup truck, but he releases me to open the car door. Then he helps me inside. The door shuts, and my pulse pounds in my head for those few seconds that I’m alone.

  Oh my God. He’s taking me back to his secluded cabin in the woods. Does that mean he’s going to fuck me? Please tell me that’s what he wants.

  The door opens before I can decide what to do about it. “What is this, Lucas?”

  He slides into the seat, giving me a look full of heat. “I’m saving your ass from that loser. That’s all.”

  “And whisking me away to your cabin to make sweet love to me?”

  The sound of his hands grinding the steering wheel makes my stomach leap. “I didn’t say that. You need a place to stay, and I’d feel like an asshole if I left you here.”

  “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that’s all it is.”

  The car roars to life as he turns the ignition. His eyes cut at me. “Don’t start,
Alexa. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

  “I know you saw my photos and came rushing down here like a bat out of hell. You kissed me.”

  “Yes, I’ve been alone for too long and yes, I won’t deny being around a girl like you is tempting as hell, but I’m not a caveman.”

  Lucas is dead wrong about that. He practically yanked me out of Bryan’s greedy hands and forced his tongue down my throat in the middle of the local art supply store. Us women notice these things.

  “So you’re my knight in shining armor, huh?” My back sinks into the leather as he pulls out of the parking lot.

  “Not exactly, sweetheart.”

  Sitting here is an exercise in patience. Flames lick up my back as I sit on the stool, surrounded by the warmth of a crackling fire. My clothes lie in a pile on the floor. This time his greedy eyes didn’t look away when my panties hit the ground.

  This time I’ll have him.

  The tight four walls of Lucas’ cabin close in on us, so small that there’s no escaping this heat. He rolls his sleeves to his elbows as though I’m the fire, and being close to me is too much.

  I thought being a figure model would be a nerve-wracking experience, but it’s not with Lucas. Being sketched by an artist like him, the only man who’s ever seen me naked, and the only man I’ve ever felt a soul-deep connection with, makes it an intensely erotic experience. I watch his eyes follow the curve of my breasts, and his hand follows with a sweeping motion. He never meets my gaze. So precise. Dedicated.

  I can’t sit here much longer. My mind keeps teasing me with images of me climbing onto his lap to straddle his waist. I want his fist in my hair.

  “Thanks for doing this, Alexa” he says, his voice cracking the silence. “You’re an amazing subject.”

  I hope I can be an amazing fuck, too.

  If I’m being honest with myself, that’s what I’m really worried about. But I don’t know if I’ll ever figure it out, because he keeps behaving all professional when more than an hour ago he told me he wanted to bend me over his hood and fuck me.

  And the thought makes me want to touch myself.

  Why don’t you?

  My lips curve.

  Yes. Let’s see how well-accomplished artist Lucas Wood controls himself when I have my fingers deep inside my pussy. I’m coy, at first. I spread my legs, giving him a full view of my innocent pussy.

  The sound of the scratching pencil halts as I lower my right hand to my mound, parting the delicate petals aside. I touch myself with two fingers, sliding in the thick juice. He watches me, not even pretending to draw anymore. Instead his gaze is irresistibly drawn to the ache between my legs.

  “Alexa—”

  But his voice cuts off abruptly with my gasp when I penetrate myself, making my fingers curve upward to hit that sweet spot. I’m so wet it’s obscene, full of fire for the way he looks at me right now, his eyes locked on my pumping fingers. My lips feel hot. I touch my boobs with my other hand. Grab the nipple and squeeze.

  “Alexa,” he says in a stronger voice. “That’s enough.”

  “Or what?”

  I insert a third finger, widening my pussy just enough to make it hurt. He slams the pencil on the easel and gets to his feet. His long, thick cock is raised against his jeans, the fabric stretched so much it looks painful. It would be incredibly sexy if it weren’t for the fury thickening his features.

  “I want you. You want me. What are you waiting for?”

  He beats his anger down. Tries to look away. He can’t.

  I clench over my fingers, the wave of pleasure rising with every thrust. No, I don’t want to come yet. My chest heaves as I slide my fingers out, and then I’m seized by a filthy thought. One that I know will drive Lucas to the edge.

  I bring my wet fingers drenched in my pussy juice to my face. And I open my mouth to suck them clean. My lips barely touch them.

  He makes an animalistic sound before grabbing my wrists. The stool topples to the floor, but his arm wraps around my waist. He lifts me. I knew he was strong, but even I’m surprised by how easily he hoists me into the air. Then my mind is preoccupied with one thought: he’s holding me.

  I’ve never been held like this. His arms wrap around me gently; even though his hold is firm, his guidance is sure. He takes me—not to the bedroom—but to the kitchen counter. Good, it’s closer. And he sets me down so that my legs hang off the edge.

  Lucas’ angry breath hits my lips. “You’re a dirty girl, Alexa.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not.” His arm is still wrapped around my back. “But I know I’ll be after I do this.”

  What?

  Suddenly he stoops down, his face close to my body. Oh my God. His beard tickles me on the way down. Then he roughly seizes my knees and forces them apart, opening the very essence of my ache for him. His hot breath billows over my wetness and my core clenches hard.

  “I’m going to eat your pussy, Alexa, because I can’t take it anymore.”

  There’s a hitch in my chest. Eat your pussy. I’ll never forget the way he said that.

  He leans in, his dark head between my legs, way closer than any man has ever been. His lips press against my throbbing pussy. I feel the seal like a hot poker. My pleasure dials to ten as he reaches back with his long tongue and licks, all the way back. Then he does it again.

  “Oh my God!”

  When his slick heat reaches my clit, he does a swirl around the bud that makes me seize on the granite. I lie flat, skin already sprinkled with sweat as he keeps my knees wide to fuck me with his tongue and, oh my God, why did I wait so long to do this?

  You waited for Lucas.

  Then his lips lock around me. He sucks me into his mouth, tongue flicking over my clit. I scream into the ceiling, the ache in my pussy demanding to be filled with more. He kisses me, stars exploding in my eyes as he blows my fucking mind. I want to sit upright and drag his cock into me, but his tongue is insistent. He doesn’t slow down when he feels me clench. If anything, he works at me harder, swirling and licking and sucking. Pleasure coils like a tightly wound spring, but the ache that’s buried inside me demands to be set free. I bite my lip, willing to hold the tide back.

  Then his rough finger grabs my clit, pinching it as his tongue drives deep.

  I come harder than I’ve ever felt my whole life. All those nights twisted in the sheets. Even the fucking rabbit dildo with all its settings and features doesn’t compare to this. Lucas holds me as I ride the crest of the wave, kissing as I clench over and over. Then he pulls away and my legs close against the damp coolness. He lifts me into his arms and carries me.

  A creaking sound and the softness pressing against my back tell me we’re in his bedroom. I’m still naked. He’s still hard. We’re going to fuck. This is it.

  Just like that, I want him again.

  I grab his collar and kiss him, tasting myself but not giving a shit. He kisses me back, his lips softer than I expected. God, I want more of him. I reach for his belt, but he takes my hand and moves it away.

  I search his desperate eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re perfect.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  His voice softens. “You’re going to think I’m nuts.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want you just for the weekend, Alexa. I want you forever.”

  I sit upright, heart pounding with excitement. “Lucas—”

  “I made myself swear I wouldn’t touch a woman again until I was sure she wanted to be mine. For good. I’m not in it for a quick fuck, a one-night stand, or even a weekend binge of eating your amazing pussy. I want a wife and kids. I want forever.”

  His words stir something deep inside me, because I want those things, too. “How do you know I don’t want that, too?”

  A smile flickers. “You’re a virgin.”

  “Exactly. I’ve been waiting my whole life to find the right man to give my body to. You’re him, I know it.”

/>   He touches my cheek. “Maybe you mean it.”

  “I do.”

  “And maybe you just want me to fuck you.”

  I do.

  A rough timbre enters his voice. “Do you know how hard it is to look at you right now and not touch you? More than anything, I want to be your first. But I need to be your last.”

  “But I—”

  He lays a finger across my lips, silencing me. “Don’t make a decision now.”

  Fire runs through my blood as I watch him sit up, the bed creaking again.

  “I’m not going to take your virginity until I know for sure you’re mine forever.”

  Chapter 8

  Lucas

  My entire body aches. It’s a good ache, one I haven’t felt in a long, long time. Every time I think about Alexa squirming on my bed, my entire body pulses and a dull throb tightens between my legs, desperate for release. I glance over my shoulder and catch her looking at me. She’s rolled onto her side, her head propped on my pillow, her body casually thrown across my bed as she recovers. Her sinuous curves silently beg me to come back and finish what I started.

  I shouldn’t watch her get up, but I do. She rises, arching her back. Her perfect breasts thrust out as she shudders. Barefoot and bare-assed, she walks past me into the living room to find her clothes.

  As she passes, she tries desperately not to look, to be a smoldering femme fatale, but she can’t keep it up and gives me a nervous glance as though to check if I’m watching. She’s on the edge of mastering her sexuality, but there’s an urgency to her that betrays the whole thing, and makes her seem young and silly.

  It makes me want her even more. Callow, self-interested boys like that Bryan just want to use her until that sweet innocence is tarnished and will never come back.

  She puts on a show as she bends to gather her clothes, thrusting herself at me, watching me as she slips her panties back into place.

  “Help me, would you?” she asks, her innocent voice betrayed by a quavering anticipation.