Olivia’s a virgin. That’s like a unicorn crossing my path. A fucking virgin. And she said it like it was a bad thing, as if it would cool my desire.
I’d been hot for her before. Now, I’m a roaring inferno. I’ll be her first. No man has taken her. I’ll be her one and only, the first man to claim and teach her. And the last.
But, damn it, a virgin. She’s so inexperienced. I’ve sensed it in the way she moves. She has no idea of her own sensuality. I’ve seen it the way she looks at me with such naked curiosity. But her signals have been mixed with fear, and my typical ability to read a woman has been drowned in lust. It never occurred to me she’s a virgin.
Her first time, I should treat her right. I shouldn’t rut into her like an animal. I should make sure she’s comfortable, soothe her and take it slow.
I’d thought I’d lost my decency, my sense of right and wrong. But here it is, rearing its ugly head.
Too bad I’m dark and damaged, a violent beast. When instinct takes over, there’s no telling what will happen.
I keep busy and away from her all day, wrestling with my thoughts and desires. I should probably check in on her. She could run on me, but I’d hear her. She has no wilderness skills, I’m almost certain. She looked around at the woods like she’d dropped onto Mars. If she tried to run I could hear her from a mile away, and I’m never that far.
I finally head back into the cabin well after dark, around seven. The smell of a meal cooking on the stove greets me. I stop dead in my tracks. I can’t remember the last time I walked into any place I lived and smelled home cooking on the stove. It has to have been well over a decade, back to when I was a kid, and it didn’t even happen often then.
“I started some stew. I hope that’s OK?” She looks nervous, standing at the stove, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “I found some meat in the freezer. And you had potatoes, carrots and onions, so…” She shrugs, as if I could be upset with her for cooking.
“Smells good,” I grunt. I’ve never been big on words, and being around her steals what few I have from my chest. Seeing here there in my kitchen, it feels so right. My heart pounds faster, realizing she’s not going to run. She’s going to stay.
“I hope it tastes good.” She peers down into the pot, giving it a stir with a wooden spoon. “I couldn’t find some of the spices I usually use.”
I walk over to an upper cabinet. It takes me right next to her. The kitchen area is small enough that my arm brushes against hers and I feel the contact everywhere.
“Can you reach up here?” I look down, realizing that she can’t. I’ll have to re-arrange things for her. And make her a stool.
“Do you have any oregano or basil? Or how about paprika or rosemary?”
I pull out the first two. I’m not a chef. But if she gives me a list, I can get us more supplies the next time I head into town. She smiles up at me when I give her the spices. Holy hell, the woman is beautiful. Her brown eyes light up and she looks like an angel.
I take a few steps back and watch her work. She must like to cook. She seems more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. And those curves. She bends over the sink and I have to stifle a groan. She reaches up for the salt and pepper and I’m praying one of the buttons on her blouse finally pops. She has no idea the effect she has on me. She’s so unstudied, none of the awareness I’m used to with women who know they’re hot and work it. Olivia’s both pure innocence and sexy as hell.
“You didn’t have to cook,” I manage.
“I like to cook.”
I nod. Seems like she does. I grab a change of clothes and head into the bathroom, stripping down for a shower. I’ve been working like a dog all day.
The hot water pounding on my back, steam rising around me, yeah, I’m rock hard. But I’ve been that way all day. Nothing’s going to change that until I get what I really want.
I can still feel Olivia grinding up against me in bed. At first, I hadn’t bought her line that she’d been asleep. I’d figured she’d gotten carried away, then embarrassed. But then I’d seen the panic in her eyes and learned the truth about her inexperience. It turns me on even more, knowing she has all that raw desire bottled up.
Standing in front of the medicine cabinet, I clear a circle in the fog and shave. I don’t know what I’m doing, sprucing myself up for her. It’s not like I’m picking her up for prom, pinning a corsage to her gown. But I do it anyway, making sure I don’t miss a spot.
By the time I’m done, she’s got dinner served, ladled into two bowls on the table. I sit down and get to it. It’s fucking fantastic. I know I’m groaning as I taste it, licking my lips, eating too fast, but, damn, it’s too good.
“Do you like it?” She’s smiling, blushing, looking over at me.
“What do you think?” I ask with my mouth half full, rising to get seconds.
She laughs, light and sweet. Laughter. That’s another thing I haven’t had much of in my life for a long while.
She’s stealing little glances at me, looking at my damp hair like she wants to run her fingers through it, my chest like she wants to burrow in it. Fuck, this woman takes my breath away. I want to pull her in my lap where she belongs.
But she’s a virgin. She must have no idea what’s going on between us. Hell, I don’t either. I’ve never felt like this before, and I’ve got a decade and a half of experience under my belt. All the women I’ve been with, none affected me like her. She’s like a new breed, my perfect mate, and all I can think about is burying myself in her.
With the dishes clean and put away, there’s nothing more to do. Other than what I’ve been thinking about all day. She steps a couple of feet away from me, maybe sensing my train of thought.
“So, no TV?” she asks. I shake my head, taking a step toward her. “No internet?” I shake my head again. “Are you, like, against technology?”
“I don’t need it.”
She nods, looking anywhere but me. It feels like the room is heating up, the space between us shrinking, the air between us crackling with tension. “So, do you, like, live here all the time? When you’re not, you know, working in Chicago?”
No, I was not playing 20 questions. She didn’t need to know all the shit I’d been through, all the darkness that had driven me to want to remove myself from society. But she keeps talking, nervous.
“Do the guys you work for know you’re here? With me?” She shivers. I want to wrap her in my arms, run my hands down her back. But it’s probably me making her shiver with fear.
Especially when I answer, “No one knows we’re here.”
She still do
esn’t meet my eye. “Hey, do you…” She bites her lip and it makes me lick mine. “Do you have something I could sleep in?” she asks, hesitant and shy.
Of course she wants a change of clothes. Why didn’t I think of that? Because I’m too occupied with thinking about getting her out of her clothes. Just the thought of her changing, taking off her blouse and unbuttoning it makes me turn away and adjust the god-damned baseball bat in my jeans.
“Yeah, I’ll get you a T-shirt. It’ll be long on you.” I pull out an old, soft T-shirt for her. The thought of it draped along her curves makes me close my eyes for a moment. I want her in it and nothing else, no bra, no panties, just my shirt.
“Here.” I shove it at her, gruff. Those big eyes and full lips, how smooth and soft her skin feels, I need to keep the fuck away. Only there’s nowhere to go in this cabin built for one. If I had another room, I’d head there, but I don’t.
She disappears into the bathroom. I pace like a panther in a cage waiting for its meal. My hands ball into fists. I wish I could workout. I want to go for a run, lift some weights, anything to release the restless, pent-up energy coursing through me. I feel trapped in this cabin as much as she does.
She finally steps out, shy, barefoot, and all mine. She’s taken off her bra. I can tell by the way her soft, full breasts push against the thin cotton. She stands there and I take her in, ravenous. She twirls a section of hair in her fingers, looking down. But I see her body respond to me. She twists her thighs together. Her nipples begin to harden under my gaze.
I destroy the distance between us in less than a heartbeat, not even aware I’m moving before I have her in my arms. One along her lower back, the other tipping her back, I encircle her, sweeping her into the kiss I’ve been wanting to give her since the moment I saw her. Soft and yielding, she parts her lips for me, meeting me with eager need. I bury my hand in her thick, long hair, cupping the back of her head and crushing her to me, taking her, drinking her in. She tastes like strawberries and honey, like all that’s woman.