Page 9

Eight

Jake

I don’t know what pisses me off more: that stupid offer of a reward to return Becca to her awful family, or the fact that I have completely failed to show my girl how crazy I am about her.

Maybe I’m not trying to trap her in an unwanted marriage or to use her as a family bargaining chip, but I’ve still failed her badly.

As far as I’m concerned, if she doesn’t know yet that I’d fucking die for her, then I’m a villain in this story too.

And Becca’s had too many villains. Too many shitty people, letting her down in the worst ways. That’s what drove her into that river, after all, so desperate to get away that she risked her own life.

I will not be another reason for Becca to doubt herself or feel unsure.

Screw. That.

“What if they come back?” Becca asks now, lifting her hips to help me tug those borrowed shorts down her ass and thighs.

Her legs are creamy and soft in the lamplight, with a band aid on her left knee from where I cleaned a cut earlier today.

She’s pale all over—the kind of ghostly pale that comes from a life indoors.

The mountains will soon give her a healthy glow… if she chooses to stay.

God, I hope she stays.

“They won’t come back. They didn’t suspect you were here.”

And they were too arrogant to imagine that a simple man living in a rustic cabin would ever turn down a financial reward if he could possibly claim it. Idiots.

“But what if you’re in danger?”

Me? I swallow back a laugh.

Becca sits up and raises her arms, letting me tug her borrowed t-shirt up and over her head, mussing up her shoulder-length red hair. She blinks at me owlishly as I toss the shirt over my shoulder, like she’s surprised I want this at all. Like she’s worried for my safety.

So many concerns for one pair of slender shoulders to bear. Christ, I want to soothe all those fears for her. Never want her to stress again.

“I’m not in danger.” My smile is crooked, cocky, but I can’t help it.

Becca’s would-be groom from this morning may have been dressed in expensive clothes, with a fancy watch and the scent of designer cologne, but if he ever tried to square up to me, I’d snap him in half.

He knew it too; that’s why he kept things polite and beat feet when I told him goodnight.

Besides, it wouldn’t have occurred to Tristan Peters that I’d risk my own neck to protect a strange girl who he thinks is only somewhat pretty .

Bullshit. Becca’s a fucking angel, and that guy needs his eyes tested. Seeing her like this, naked with a faint blush staining her cheeks, makes me want to beat my chest and howl at the moon.

Instead, I shoulder my way between those soft thighs, slinging her legs over my back so we’re good and tangled up. My hot breaths puff against Becca’s slit, and she’s so pink and glossy and swollen already. Her stomach muscles shudder as I part her folds with my thumb.

“So,” I say casually, meeting Becca’s eye up the whole length of her body. She’s propped on her elbows now, nibbling hard on her bottom lip, watching me settle in between her legs like she can’t quite believe this is happening. “You’re not sure what’s real. You’re not sure if I want you.”

Dazed, Becca nods. Then tips her head back with a moan as I lean down and lick a stripe up her slit.

Just one lick.

One firm, hungry, claiming lick, groaning at her salty-sweet taste.

Then I wait, eyebrow raised, until Becca looks at me again. This time, when her chin finally drops forward, her cheeks are bright pink and her lips are parted. She stares in shock, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

“Does this seem like a one-off thing to you, sweetheart?” I punctuate the question with another deep lick, then suck on her clit for good measure. Becca wails and writhes, her heels digging into my back.

Good.

Want her bruises on my back. Want her claiming me too, in such a way that I can see the evidence in the mirror tomorrow.

“Does it seem like I could just have one taste of you, then go on with my life as if nothing happened?” My words are clipped, because honestly, the thought alone pisses me off. Of course one taste would never be enough. I’ve been addicted since I fished her out of that river. “Does it, Becca?”

Eyes wide, she shakes her head.

My heart thuds against the mattress, and my back muscles are tensed.

“No,” I agree, spreading her folds with my fingers and leaning down so my breath tickles her most sensitive areas.

She’s coated in the glossy sheen of arousal, and my mouth waters at the sight and scent.

“No, I can’t do this just once. Need to do this every goddamn day for the rest of my life.

Need to feel you come apart on my cock every day too.

Maybe that makes me a brute, but I need it, Becca.

Need you. But I’ll make it good for you too, I swear. ”

My neck aches as I bend down and start to lap at her pussy, but not from the angle. It’s ‘cause I’m so tense , so pent up, wound tight at the idea that Becca might not want that too.

She might get bored of me after a while.

She might decide that she’d prefer a man like Tristan Peters after all—the sort of man who could buy her tailored clothes and jewelry, and have her driven around in a fancy car. The simple life I’m offering might not be enough.

It doesn’t sound like the Becca I’ve gotten to know, but it’s possible.

And it makes my gut clench and my blood rush in my veins.

“I—I want that too.” Slender fingers weave through my hair and scratch at my scalp, pressing me eagerly between her legs. “I want you every day, Jake. I want you to keep me. To love me. I’ve wanted that since the moment I woke up beside the river and first saw you.”

A snarl escapes me, but it’s muffled by her slick folds. I’m licking her in earnest now, sucking and nipping and groaning against her sensitive flesh, feeling half animal, half man. I’m still fully dressed, grinding my hips into the bed, squeezing one perfect feminine ass cheek in my free hand.

She’s mine.

Becca is mine.

And I’m gonna make her so fucking happy that she never, ever doubts that again. Gonna make her crave me as much as I crave her. Gonna lock this shit down .

“You’re so fucking perfect,” I tell my girl between licks, my voice ragged and my beard slick with Becca’s arousal. “That asshole doesn’t even realize what he’s lost, but I do. Not gonna make his stupid mistakes. I’ll only ever give you reasons to stay, sweetheart.”

Becca moans, her fingers twisting in my hair, hips rocking up against my face. She’s completely free, just lost in the moment, and it is one hell of a sight to see.

When waves of pleasure start rolling through her body, I keep licking but I stare up at her face.

I’m hungry for every whimper and micro expression.

And as her cheeks blaze and her teeth dig into her plump bottom lip, my girl does not disappoint.

She cries out, body writhing, and locks eyes with me, her pupils blown wide with pleasure.

It’s so intense watching her, tasting her, feeling every twitch and shudder and groan, that I have to press my own hips into the mattress hard so I don’t come too.

And when Becca finally collapses back onto the bed, boneless and gasping, I shove myself up and tear off my own clothes like a man possessed. Need to feel her. Need to fuck her. Need to get deep inside my girl, so deep that her body learns to crave my cock.

Crawling on top of her, I notch myself at her entrance and bend down to kiss Becca’s neck. Heart pounding, I take three slow, deep breaths, mouthing at her skin all the while to calm myself.

“Ready?” I grit out at last when I trust my own self control once again.

Becca moans and twines her arms around my neck. “Uh-huh. I’m ready. Make me yours, Jake.”

Blood rushes in my ears, and my whole body flashes hot. Yes. Can’t wait another second.

Jaw clenched, I press forward.