The Path to James (9 page)

I groan. I just want her. I just want to keep her. I snatch a condom from my nightstand and don't bother letting her slip it on for me. At this point, any contact from her would send me over the edge. Like a teenage boy, I would be lost the moment her hands found me.

I unfurl the condom over my cock and position myself at her opening. Alex is biting her lip again, staring at me, ready for me to penetrate her.

“Is this what you want?” I tease her with the head of my erection.

“Yes,” she pants.

“What was that, Alex?” I press the head of my penis into her.

“Y-YES!” she stammers just as I slam home, from head to hilt, as deep as she will allow.

She cries out, arching her back, her breasts perfect points, her arms out. I can already feel my orgasm coming, rearing up. It starts to build. My balls tighten. It builds. My cock slides in and then out of her tight, little slit. It builds and then, I break. My release crashes over me and I'm lost. I'm lost in her.

I am lost in my woodland goddess.

Chapter 13

“
Have dinner with me.” James issues his request with his face lost in my hair.

I slide my hand over his six-pack, up his chest, his neck, his stubbled jaw. “I can't stay.”

My heart breaks as his arms squeeze tighter around me. He inhales me, inhales every last bit of me. Pulling me tighter he pleads, “Just tonight.” His teeth find my earlobe. “Just give me tonight.”

I just want him. I want to keep him. I want him to keep me. Why did I have to find him the moment I was trying to find myself?

I placed my dreams on hold when my grandparents died, giving me my home. I spent years there because of Kara, because I love her and I wanted to live near her. And I stayed permanently because of Jaren, because he wouldn't hear about me exploring the world and seizing my future.

I have always been a pushover, I've always let myself be ruled by someone else. But I want this too. My thumb grazes James' lower lip. I want just a little bit more. “You have tonight.”

His pleasure is self-evident. I can feel him grow hard against me once more, he squeezes me so tight it's almost painful. I can feel his grin against my neck.

“You have made me the happiest man alive,” James pushes up from the bed. His erection ignored. “What do you want for dinner?”

I shrug. I'm just pleased to see him so happy.

“No,” James regards me, looks me up and down. He grabs my face in both of his large hands. “I know what I'll do, I'll make you pizza.” He presses his mouth to mine, fast. “I've got to fatten you up before you leave.” And then he turns to go.

He swiftly turns back to grab my face again, however, mushing his lips against mine. My mouth parts to allow him entry and his tongue surges into mine. His full erection taps against my arm.

“Mmm,” he groans against my lips. “You will not deter me, temptress.” He detaches himself from me. I'm so cold without his warmth.

He fishes out another one of his t-shirts for me from one of his drawers, and I hold my arms up for him to roll it over me.

“Come,” he grins. He is still gloriously naked, fully erect, gorgeous. “I want your company.”

He grabs some loose-fitting, drawstring linen pants from the second drawer down. His pants, my shirt—together we almost complete an outfit. He pulls the slacks on and takes my hand. I want to go wherever this amazing man leads me.

James guides me down the walkway, then the stairs, into the kitchen. “I hope you like pizza.”

“I love pizza.”

He grins and his hand slips from mine to start preparing our meal. “Good, I make the best.”

I take a seat at the island, watching this mastodon traipse through the kitchen like a god. Pulling things from his cupboards and tossing them onto the counter. He is so graceful and confident. He knows exactly what he is doing to me. I could never get enough of watching him cook. I never knew something so mundane could be so damn sexy.

“Can I help?” Though I enjoy the show, I suddenly realize he is doing all the work.

“Absolutely not,” James scoops some flour from a bag, “But if you care to tell me more about yourself...”

“What would you like to know?”
I'll tell you anything.

James tosses some salt in with the flour then heads for the fridge. “Tell me more about your job. You know, before your piece of shit ex-boyfriend burned down your home and you decided to trek across the country.” He stops what he is doing to grab a couple glasses and a fresh bottle of wine. He opens a drawer and withdraws a corkscrew. He opens the bottle and pours a glass. “Wine?”

“Yes, please.” Alcohol is always appreciated when I'm forced to speak about myself.

He hands me the glass and says, “So?”

I take a sip of my wine first. “Well,” as the taste of my drink bursts over my tongue I stop to look at the bottle.
Lafite Rothschild
. The last wine I'd purchased was blackberry flavored at six dollars a bottle.

I take another sip. This is exquisite. I notice the date on the label reads
1976
and I almost spit out a darkly colored bouquet of cedarwood, spices and ripe fruit that are over a decade older than I am. “How much is this wine!?”

James only shrugs, “It's one of my favorites.”

I point to the open bottle, “That is probably worth more than my car.” I take another tentative sip. I hate that it tastes so good. “I no longer want to give you details about what I did for a living.”

“Please,” James grabs the wine with a flour covered hand and pours himself a glass. “I'll hide the bottle if it makes you feel better.”

That doesn't make me feel better, nothing will help, I know the wine is still cycling through my digestive system, all delicious and unfathomably expensive.

“No, sir,” I can't stop myself, I take another sip from my glass, “the damage is done. My past will remain a mystery until you care to explain to me how you can afford wasting this deliciously expensive wine on a girl like me.”

“Wasting?” James stops his kneading to look up at me. He arches an eyebrow and I fight the urge to down the rest of my glass. “Miss Henton, anything you accept from me could never be considered a waste.”

I'm about to say something that, I hope, would come off as snarky and intelligent, but my phone lights up and I realize that I'd forgotten all about calling Kara.

“Oh, bugger.” I hop up from my bar stool and go after the device.

“Sorry,” I say when I notice James' attention, “my best friend was adamant about our constant contact, I really should call her.” I make a move to leave out the back door.

“Of course,” but instead of letting me go, James abandons his dough, comes to me and grabs a fistful of my shirt. I hold my breath, this close to me, there is only one line of thinking that can surface in my mind. I place the palm of my hand on his abdomen, as he leans into me his flesh is unyielding. “Take your time,” his lips graze mine. “but come back to me.” His lips meld with mine and I am devoured. He pulls me into his embrace and I sink farther into him. I can feel his growing arousal against my hip.

“I will return, sir,” I murmur against his mouth, “I swear.”

James holds me tighter, squeezing me to him. His flour covered hands leave ghostly hand prints all along his dark t-shirt. Nothing but my shirt and his slacks separate us from each other. Behind us the pizza dough is ready to rise.

“I'm holding you to that,” James nips at my lower lip before releasing me. “Besides, I'll hold your backpack hostage until tomorrow morning.”

He pinches my bottom as I turn to head out the door. When I narrow my eyes back at him, biting my lip, he wears a mischievous grin. The look makes me want to jump him all over again, but first things first. I force my feet to continue forward, every step bringing me farther from James. I need to call Kara.

I open the double-doors and I'm greeted by warm, mountain air. I glance behind me and James is still staring at me hungrily. “One moment,” I mouth at him as I hold up a singular finger. It takes all my willpower to close the door behind me instead of running back and jumping into James' waiting arms.

I locate Kara's information out of my contacts and press 'call.'

She answers on the first ring, “Where the hell have you been?!”

“I'm fine!” I reassure her.

“I have been worried sick about you, young lady.” I can imagine the terse expression Kara is making on the other end of our conversation. “Leaving out the mad-man that burned your house down, there are natural disasters, wolves, serial killers...” she pauses to think, “broken ankles, bears, and poisonous spiders!”

“I miss you too, my phone died.” I stare back into James' giant mansion. It's warm and inviting. It beckons me to return to him. “Listen, I'm going to get something to eat.” As I say this, I'm thinking of James, not food.

“So, if your phone is now charged that means you're at a hotel?” Kara sounds suspicious. How can she always tell I'm keeping something from her. “You're safe?”

“I'm safe.” I leave out my reply about the hotel. No point in explaining my mind-blowing sex with a random stranger, a man I ran into while hiking through his property. “I'll call you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Kara seems reluctant to let me go. I know she hates the idea of me wandering out in the wilderness on my own. “Please, for the love of God, Alex, be careful.”

“I am, I will.” I wish I could hug her through the phone. “I love you, my friend.”

“Mhm, we love you too,” and she means Ben and herself. She pauses before hanging up. “I'm serious though, be safe, okay?”

“Okay, I'll try not to do anything stupid.” I make a kissing sound into the phone. “Muah, now let me eat.”

“Okay, okay! I won't hover. But seriously…”

“Kara, I'm fine. I'll talk to you in the morning,
mother
.”

She
grrs
into the phone, hating when I make connections between her and her mother. “Love you, bye,” and there is no pause this time between her farewell and departure. She disconnects.

I inhale one more gulp of fresh air—of the wilds, and of freedom. I feel the cool breeze and take in the sounds of songbirds. The sun is on its descent and I can't bring myself to feel guilty over having missed half a day's worth of hiking. This was worth it. James is worth it.

My hand reaches for the handle of his backdoor and he appears in front of it. He comes bearing gifts, holding both of our glasses of wine, topped off.

He makes me an offer when I open the door a crack, “Come sit with me outside while the dough rises.”

“I'd love to.”

I hold the door open then promptly shut it behind him.

“How is your friend?” He leads me over to his patio furniture. There are separate chairs and a loveseat. James sets his glass down, then grabs my hand to pull me down onto the loveseat with him. It's fluffy, and comfortable, and feels expensive. I keep my observations to myself.

James is still in just his loose-fitting pants and I can't help staring at the view as we sit on his patio. “My friend worries about me, but I assured her that I am doing fine.”

I accept one of the glasses from James and I love the way his hand grazes mine, sending shivers up my spine. He's so beautiful, and I love the way my body responds to his.

“Your friend is right to worry,” James grabs my legs and drapes them over his lap. “A beautiful girl hiking through the woods by herself. I hate to think of what could happen.”

“Besides being picked up by handsome strangers?” I nudge him with my hand.

He grins, “That is the least of my worries.”

His mood sobers, and mine follows after his. Both of my hands cradle my wineglass. I feel so safe right here, nestled in James, but I belong out in the woods.

“I feel free out there.” I look out into the trees. Into the forest and the mountains. “Every mile between myself and my former home strips away my problems. My job, my ex, my family, my bills, my worries and insecurities,” I take a gulp of my wine. “Every mile is an accomplishment. Every mile brings me closer to my goals and the fruition of my dreams.”

My eyes drift closed as James' hand drifts up my leg. I'm naked for all but his t-shirt. His touch is perfect, warm and soothing. Just the right amount of contact without being overbearing; just the right amount of comfort without being too soft.

“What are your dreams?”

His words drive me to reopen my eyes. He waits for me, his beautiful lips stilled for my reply.

“The only thing I have ever wanted to be in my life was a travel writer, aside from when I wanted to be Robin Hood.”

James chuckles as he grips my legs tighter to him. He always pulls me closer when he thinks I'm just about to run away. “Will you rob from me to give to the poor?”

“Don't tempt me.” His hand slides farther up my leg.

He bends to kiss my kneecap. His lips are soft and one of my hands releases from my wineglass to run my fingers through his hair. This all feels like a dream.