This has got to stop.

It’s been two days since Brad and Trey left, and other than little waves as she’s left on her daily nature walks or from her window, she’s totally avoided me since our lunch.

It’s gotten so bad, I’ve spent nearly as much time fantasizing and jacking off as I have eating.

Even if Ana didn’t know I was watching her shower show, she has to know what the flirting at lunch did to me, her heated gaze on my cock turning me on so hard and making me want her so badly. I wonder if she knows that she licked her lips, leaving no doubt what she was thinking about.

Ever since, my fantasies have been about that tongue on my cock, my hands replacing hers as I trace her curves the way she did in the shower. My mouth waters to taste her pussy, and I mentally see a looped image of my cock sliding in and out of her, covered in her sweet-girl cum.

I’m going crazy, but I saw her face. She’s just as heated up as I am.

I thought she might come to me, or that maybe a little time would do us both some good. But I can see that I was wrong. We’ve had time, too much of it . . . ten years’ worth. I’m going to have to hunt her, chase her.

I grunt at the thought. Big, bad wild man chasing after the skittish, sweet good girl. There’s a twisted part of me that likes the idea of dirtying up my Sweet Ana. But a thorn twists in my gut that she didn’t used to be so gun-shy. I did that to her, made her afraid to trust. I hate myself for it, but I was just a kid myself and didn’t know what to do, how to handle things. I thought she’d be okay, I really did, even if knew I would never find someone like her again.

I don’t know that she’ll talk to me, hear me out. But I do know that she wants me, maybe as much as I want her. And I’m not too good to use her desire against her, use my body to draw her closer, take what we both want. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll listen to me if I make her boneless with satisfaction, her legs too jellied to run away. Maybe then, she’ll listen. Maybe then, she’ll forgive me.

But it’s been rough getting around with my bruised ankle. I’ve made do, getting chores done slower than usual but done nonetheless. But it’s time to tempt her, tease her, get her to come to me. The best hunters know you have to attract the prey, get it on your turf, on your terms. Yeah, I’m giving chase, but I’m not gonna run after her. In fact, she’s gonna run right into my arms, but I’ll be there to catch her this time.

Adjusting the tank top I’m wearing today, I head outside. I’ve still got plenty of work to do. I’ve got nearly three whole trees’ worth of logs that need to be turned into firewood, and the work will help with my plan.

Walking outside slowly, limping a bit more than I really need to, I get my axe and start picking out logs to split. Rex is with me, lazing in the sun once he realizes what I’m doing. With each step, I play up my ankle a little, ready for Ana to come storming out of the cabin to tell me how much of a fool I am. I can see the curtains flutter. She’s probably watching, and I know it irritates her so much as I work.

With every chop of my axe, I expect her to come out, and with each split log that falls to the ground to be tossed across the yard to join my slowly growing pile, I find my irritation growing instead. My ankle starts to throb, and soon enough, my limp is real and it hurts to do my work.

I don’t stop and just keep setting up logs, swinging my axe, and making the pieces fly. Sweat starts to trickle down my chest, and I keep going, not letting Ana win this one. She’s got to come out, dammit.

But why like this? You damn fool, my inner voice says. Maybe you should just make this easier and go knock on her door.

Maybe . . . but this is my way. Besides, getting work done at the same time. Two birds, one stone. I lift my axe and bring it whistling down again, another two chunks going flying. My ankle is in agony as I lurch over to the pieces and pick them up. My left side has a severe stitch, the muscles threatening to cramp as I bend over, and I know why. I’ve been trying to balance on my left side almost this entire time, and my muscles are doing double-duty.

I grunt as I gingerly toss the lengths into the pile, feeling like an idiot. It was stupid to think that using the same trick twice would work. Maybe I’ve underestimated her. Maybe she can hold out longer than I can. Maybe she’s not as crazy for me as I am for her.

I’m so distracted by the pain that I don’t see the log in front of me until it’s too late, and I fall, gasping in pain as my ribs hit the ground. I plant my hand on the ground and try to get to my knees, but my right foot digs into the ground and I collapse back down. Even over Rex’s concerned barks, I hear her mumbled, “Dumbass.”

Hissing with pain, I turn over, somewhat surprised when I see a shadow over me. A petite, sexy shadow that looks pissed off. “I said to stay off your damn ankle. Why the hell won’t you listen?”

“What can I say? I’m hard-headed,” I say, grinning. I’ll never admit it, but having Ana here makes relief wash over me. I really thought she wasn’t going to come out. I don’t let it show as I give her my best boyish grin. “I’m doing just fine. Was just taking a little break.”

Ana snorts. “Sure, you are. You look like you’re getting ready for a dirt nap. Now lie back.”

Ana kneels down, examining my ankle. She moves it in my boot slowly back and forth, each movement making me groan in agony. “Goddamn. You getting a kick out of torturing me?”

“Shut up, you big baby,” Ana says, amusement and frustration in her voice. “See what you did? Now you really can’t walk on it.”

“Hey, I had to get you out here somehow,” I admit, letting her help me up. “It worked, and now I get to go put my feet up. Want to be my Naughty Nurse?” I say it lightly, teasingly, wiggling the carrot to get my prey closer, where I want her.

She blushes but ignores the invitation. “Yeah, you can put your feet up, and if you even think of getting up again, I’m going to handcuff you to your bed,” Ana says, moving next to me and putting my right arm over her shoulder.

“Mmm, definitely a Naughty Nurse thing to say. Is that supposed to be a threat? Because if you’re into that, I could be too.” I give her my boyish grin again and wiggle my eyebrows at her. It’s over the top silly, something I haven’t done in years. It feels good, reminds me of who I used to be before I was the asshole on the mountain who growled at everyone.

Ana rolls her eyes, huffing out a laugh unwillingly. I’m counting that in the point column for me. She wraps an arm around my waist, holding mine to her shoulders. “Now, lean on me when you use this foot.”

Together, we limp inside, my body totally aware of hers pressed against my side. The pain’s enough that I don’t pop wood as we walk, and that increases as she helps me into my chair and I hiss when my ribs have to flex. “What did you do?”

“Just sore.”

Ana runs a hand over my side, tutting softly even as her hand strokes my shirt slowly, tenderly. “These will need to be looked at too. You’re stubborn as a mule.”

It’s hard to hold in my grin. It took a little pain, but this is working out even better than I expected. “It’s a fault, but also a strength. Thanks.”

Ana helps me get my feet up before standing and looking around. “Where are your First-Aid supplies?”

“I have a kit under the sink, but it’s just Band-Aids and stuff like that. What do you need?”

“We’re going to need to wrap and maybe even splint this for a few days,” she replies, sighing.

I try to bend forward and untie my bootlace, but no dice. Instead, I lean back and let Ana get the supplies she needs. I hear her rummaging around in the kitchen for a minute and wonder what she’s up to since she said the Band-Aids in the First-Aid kit definitely wouldn’t be useful for this.

“Well, you’re going to have a funky splint then,” Ana says, undoing my boots. She doesn’t make a peep as she helps me out and takes off my socks, only wincing a little when she sees the deep purple bruising on my skin. “Fuck me.”

That was the plan, I think, smiling to myself as she goes about her business. It takes her about five minutes, but soon enough, my right foot is fully wrapped, and I’ve learned a new use for wooden spoons.

“Now,” she says, dusting her hands and looking at me, “I suppose you’re going to need someone to take care of you too. Just one rule . . . no bedpans.”

I grin, nodding. “Deal. So . . . hungry? We could do a late lunch.”

Ana thinks, then nods, smiling a little. “I suppose. You wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time. Not when I have her exactly where I want her.