Page 84 of Nine Month Contract
“This is important!” He points at the house. “And we drove here together. You can’t just leave us.”
“I’ll be back to get you,” I bark and remove my tool belt, dropping it on the floor as a sign of my promise. “It’ll just take an hour. Ninety minutes, tops.”
“Don’t make us late for hockey!” Luke yells as I turn and tuck tail to bulldoze my way up to Fletcher Mountain because, well…I’m feeling lucky.
The sound of tires on gravel and a truck door slamming has my head popping up curiously. I’m currently on the floor in my bathroom with the newest addition to Fletcher Mountain, who is nibbling on some kibble I swiped from the rescue center. She seems quite content already. She’s already used her new litter box, so we’re off to a good start.
I stand to glance out my bathroom window and see Wyatt’s truck parked in front of the barn. He said he wouldn’t be home for a while, so I’m surprised to see him. Movement down by the barn draws mygaze, and I nearly fall through the window when I see that Wyatt is by the outdoor shower, stripping out of his work vest like a man on fire.
My hot breath fogs up the glass when I say out loud to myself, “Is he…oh my God, he is.”
He wrenches off his damp T-shirt, revealing his chiseled, hairy chest, and I have to swallow the lump in my throat as he undoes his jeans, and…yep. He’s naked. He’s naked, and he’s stepping under the water and aggressively scrubbing the dust off his skin with a sort of deranged look in his eye.
My body hums as he turns around on the concrete slab, coating himself in soap, giving me a full view of his front side, the pecs, the faint outline of abs, the deep vee that goes down each of his hip bones. What I wouldn’t do to be those hands roaming over every ridge of him.
Hormones. It’s the hormones. I’m not normally so possessed.So easily aroused.But my God, when a man puts on a show right outside my window, what does he expect me to do?
His tan hands slide down to his groin, and I splay my palms out on the window when I see him grip himself and stroke his length over and over. My nose flattens against the glass as he presses his other hand to the side of the barn, his head bowed, his back muscles sinewy as water sluices down his spine.
Pressing my forehead to the cool glass, I squeeze my legs together, the desire to touch myself at an all-time high. A second ago, I was congratulating a kitten on using the litter box for the first time. Now, I’m watching some sort of mountain-man porno that I can’t click off.
And why should I click it off? I have sex with this man every other day. I’ve seen him naked countless times now. He’s essentially…mine.
Mine.
The spike of adrenaline that surges through me over that possessive word is alarming. Why does that feel so good to say?
Because a man like Wyatt has never been mine, not once in my life. A man like Wyatt has never even looked my way before. And if I listen to that quiet voice in my head, I know this man wouldn’t either if I wasn’t carrying his baby. He’s told me he’s attracted to me, and I hear him, but he’s not attracted tome. To who I really am. He doesn’teven know me. Not the real me. Not the fucked-up version that would terrify him if I ever told him the truth.
It’s better to live in this fantasy with him for now. He might bemine now, but that is a very temporary state. A short-term arrangement only.
With a strange noise in my throat, I slide my hand over my leggings and tease my clit through the two layers of fabric, my body folding in on itself, desperate to feel his thickness inside me again. My panties are growing wet already, and I wonder briefly if I should just go down there and see if Wyatt can make me a believer in shower sex. I’m sure he’d be up for breaking our sundown rules. And his brothers must still be at the jobsite for him to be showering out in broad daylight like this. Stroking himself.
Yet…the voyeur in me doesn’t want me to reveal my presence quite yet. This moment is hotter. Better. Naughtier. Watching him when he doesn’t know it makes me feel a certain sense of power that I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before.
I stroke small circles over my clit, feeling fraught with need. How do I still want sex when I’ve literally never had more of it in my entire life? Is it truly just the hormones? Is it the sneaking around? Is it Wyatt?
It’s all of it…all of it is a recipe for feral, uncontrollable lust, and I will mourn the loss of him when this all ends.
My heart leaps into my throat when Wyatt’s head lifts, and he catches me gawking at him through the window. I squeal and drop down on the floor, horrified that I’ve just been caught peeping on him in the shower.
The kitten meows something that’s obviously judgy before diving back into her food.
“I’m a pervert.” I hit my head on the wall, cursing myself for being such a blatant idiot.
Moments later, I hear my apartment door open and cringe, cupping my hands over my face as his heavy footfalls across the floorboards grow near. He’s going to give me so much shit for being a low-level creeper, and I deserve it.
When I look up, he’s filling the doorway of my bathroom, lookinggiant and delicious dressed in gym shorts and no shirt, his furry, chiseled chest on full display but I barely notice over the captivating fire burning in his eyes. He steps inside and grabs my hand to pull me up while he kicks the bathroom door shut. Shoving me up against my bathroom sink, he commands, “Tell me everything on your mind as you watched me, Lucky. And don’t you dare leave the good stuff out.”
WeeksPregnant:18
AnimalsontheMountain:???
Ascream rips me out of a deep sleep, and I sit up in my bed, heart racing. Rain pounds down on my roof, and flashes of lightning illuminate my house as I rush out of my bedroom to glance out the living room window. All the lights are on in the barn, and I glance at the clock to see it’s three in the morning. What the hell is going on?
I rush back into my room and throw on jeans and a hoody, barely getting my feet into my boots before I’m jogging through the rain down to the barn. Terror vibrates through me as a million horrific scenarios play in my mind. The biggest horror I’m thinking about…is miscarriage.
Did Trista lose the baby?
