Page 52 of Far From Sherwood Forest

“Never,” he mutters, slurring a bit.

I chuckle.

“Come on,” I say again as I throw one of his arms over myshoulder and pick him up. He’s not small, but he’s not difficult to carry either.

He grunts but doesn’t protest, instead tightening his hold around my neck as he lays his head on my shoulder. When he snuggles his face into the crook of my neck, it gives me pause. But I say nothing.

After we emerge from the trees, I stare at my truck for a few seconds before looking down at Robin in my arms.

If I take him home like this, John will probably kill me.

As I turn away from my truck, I convince myself that’s the only reason I start heading for my cabin instead.

I think I blacked out for a bit because the next thing I know, Henry is carrying me up the steps to the front door of his cabin. I lift my head to stare at the side of his face.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice coming out thick and sleepy.

He doesn’t look at me as he answers. “Getting you cleaned up.”

“Why? Last time, you left me in the woods covered in your cum.”

It might be a joke, but my heart is in my throat thinking he’s actually going to take care of me. That he’s going to carry me inside his home and not leave me alone like he did that time.

His jaw ticks beneath his beard, and my cock stirs at the memory of the rough scrape of all that hair between my cheeks. I’m going to have dreams about that for sure.

Henry sets me on my feet in front of the door. I stumble, my legs like jelly. I can hardly hold myself up, clinging to him for leverage.

“Really fucked you that good, huh?”

I could make another joke, but the simple, honest answer comes out instead while he helps to hold me upright with an arm around my waist, our gazes locked.

“Yes,” I say on a breath.

It was fucking amazing. I’ve never felt like that before in my life.

If someone had told me a year ago I’d love getting fucked by the former Sheriff of Nottingham as much as I did, I would’ve thought they were out of their mind.

Henry gives me something between a smile and a smug smirk, and it’s fucking beautiful. I swear my knees get even weaker. Fortunately, he keeps a hold on me as he unlocks his door.

“You never answered my question,” I point out.

“Because I don’t have a death wish,” he says as he opens the door and we step inside. “At least right now.”

“What does that mean?”

After he closes the door, he turns back to me and scoops me into his arms once more. I consider objecting, but my legs really are weak at the moment. And I won’t even deny that it feels damn good to be in his arms.

“I’m aware of how protective John is of you. Can you honestly say he wouldn’t want to kill me if I brought you home like this?”

I look down at myself for the first time and notice how dirty the front of my jeans and jacket are. More likely, John would killmefor willingly running through the forest in the cold. That’s why I asked Henry to use a condom. My immune system is shit. It has been ever since we arrived in this world.

One of the first times I got sick, I ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. Since I had no medical records, a nurse there suggested I get a whole lot of tests done. That’s how I knew I wasnegative.

“I guess, yeah,” I answer, trying not to be too upset that that’s the only reason he brought me inside. “Maybe.”

As he carries me through his cabin, I notice there are virtually no personal items, nothing that says this place belongs to Henry. Not that I’m surprised. The bunkhouse I live in is the same. We all came to this place with nothing but our horses and the clothes on our backs. It still makes me a little sad, though, because there’s nothing that belongs to anyone else either. He’s still alone.

When we get into the small bathroom connected to the one bedroom, Henry sets me down again. He takes off his jacket and turns on the water for the walk-in shower.