Chapter Six

Like A Back Road

Phoenix

I wake up, knowing I slept longer than normal. I dreamt of him, and woke up several times, forcing myself back to sleep. Each time I awoke, he was so close to being inside of me. God, I want him, and I haven’t wanted a man in years.

Mandee told me about their conversation and that she thinks I should give him a chance. What she doesn’t know, and I’m not going to tell her, is that he doesn’t want anything more than a sexual relationship. She still believes in that storybook kind of romance. That innocence that she still has, I hope it never goes away. I won’t ever ruin it for her, but it’s lost on me.

Her story began much differently than mine. Her princess years were tea parties and watching her parents hold hands. She still believes that’s what is supposed to happen.

I don’t.

I get out of bed and throw on a hoodie. Then I brush my teeth and use the bathroom before wandering outside.

“Morning, honey girl, coffee?”

I smile as I head down my porch steps. “Of course, Mags.”

She hands me the cup, and I hold it while she pours.

“So, what does Phoenix have planned for today?” she asks, patting the spot next to her on the glider.

“More mowing.” I take a drink of the steaming hot coffee. “Then laundry, I suppose.”

“Care to have dinner with me tonight? Unless you have plans, of course.” She smiles.

“I’d love that. Just let me know what I can bring,” I tell her, leaning back.

“Will do.” She leans back herself. “It’s a beautiful day, Phoenix Star.”

“It sure is,” I say, looking up at the clear sky and bright sun. “Sure is.”

With no lawn to mow, I look around the barn to see if I can find any spare scraps of wood, but then decide that would force me into a conversation with Gage. It’s his property, after all.

When I walk out of the barn, he is walking in. He looks past me and doesn’t say a word.

I stop and look back, expecting him to say something, anything. He doesn’t. Not one thing. Therefore, I turn back around and walk up the driveway.

It hurts that he said nothing, but then...Then I’m pissed. I’m pissed that he won’t talk to me because I haven’t given in to his request.

Fucking men.

I walk inside, grab my laundry basket, and then head to my Jeep.

“Where you off to?” Mags calls down to me.

“No lawn left to mow, because he...” I pause, knowing I sound bitter. I am bitter. “Just heading to the laundromat.”

“The one in the big house not working?” she asks.

I open the back of the Jeep and set the basket in, trying to choose my words kindly.

I close it and look up at her. “I’m sure it’s fine, Mags, but I’m going to do all of mine and my bedding. It’ll be easier at the laundromat.”

And I won’t be near him.

I head back inside to strip my bed because now I have to do it, too.

As I walk out, Mags yells down, “Have a good day.”

“Need anything at the store?” I ask.

“We still gonna head into town tomorrow?” she asks.

Shit. “Yes, of course, Mags. It’s our shopping day.”

“Drive safe. Remember dinner at seven?”

“Looking forward to it.”

Pulling down the dirt road, I see the sign, Falcon’s Landing. For a few weeks, it blanketed me with peace. Now I feel the completely opposite.

I turn on the radio, and a song I have heard a few times comes on. “Body Like A Back Road” by Sam Hunt. I try to embrace what I have come to like about country music—the fact that it inspires thoughtfulness and hope.

This song, though...This song makes me think of him.

I let my mind drift to what he looks like completely and totally bare, standing on his deck. My insides clench, and my annoyance spikes.

“So what? He’s hot. There’re plenty of hot men out there.”

I lean forward and knock my head against the steering wheel. I want to believe what I just said out loud, but it’s not true. I know damn well it’s not.

The man is perfection, from his perfect hair, to his liquid, mystical eyes, his lips, that fucking face, his neck, shoulders, chest, waist, that ass—dear God, that ass in the bare—to his thick, strong thighs.

“Shut up,” I scold myself. “Shut it off.”

I bet his feet are nasty, and he has a small dick. I smile inwardly, absolutely believing that could be true. I have yet to see for myself, so logic is on my side. No one could be that perfect.

When I get to the cabin, Mags isn’t on the porch. I look at my watch to see it’s six thirty. I managed to stay away all day. I grab my basket of laundry out of the back and walk up on the porch, seeing there’s a note tacked to the door.

 

It’s a beautiful night, honey girl.

Dinner down by the lake.

If you have some paper napkins, bring them along.

~Mags~

 

I shower quickly then throw on some shorts and a tee-shirt, grab a sweatshirt, and throw it and the napkins in my backpack. At the door, I shove my feet in a pair of sandals and head out.

After closing the door behind me, I put my earbuds in and hit my music, keeping my head down as I walk past his house. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see the way he looks at me. And I don’t want him to see whatever he sees when I look at him.

He told me the very first night we met what he wanted to find out, and I will be damned if I don’t want to find out the same thing.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Fucking joke. I’m a fucking joke.

When I get to the lake, I see him before I see Mags. They are standing on the dock, and he’s helping her cast a fishing line.

I hold my phone up and take a picture of her smiling up at him and he down at her. I take another when he leans down and kisses the top of her head. Then I take a moment to breathe back the emotions it stirs in me.

I miss my grandmother. Mags reminds me of her in a way. A little less reserved, but she’s amazing just the same.

I clear my throat as I walk closer, and they both look back at me.

“Grab a pole, honey girl.” Mags points to the bench that they rest against.

I shake my head. “I don’t fish.”

“Gage will put that worm on the hook for you,” Mags says.

I look at him as he looks back and shake my head again. “I’m all set.”

He rolls his eyes and shrugs as he looks away, dismissing me.

Ouch. No. No, ouch, fucker. He’s a fucker.

“Mags, can I do anything to help?”

“Nope, just gotta wait until we catch dinner.” She laughs. “They should be biting soon.”

Catch dinner? Oh, hell no.

He looks back and catches my facial expression then smirks and looks away.

“I got one!” Mags laughs. “Gage, I got one!”

“Feels like a big one, too. You want me to bring it in, Mags?”

“No, this is mine to deal with.” She chuckles as she spins the handle on the pole. She looks back. “Dinner, honey girl.”

I can’t tell her how disgusting that seems to me.

“Awesome,” I say with a thumbs-up.

She gets pulled forward, and then the pole flies out of her hand. Gage catches her before she falls into the lake.

“You good?” he asks.

“My pole!” she yells, pointing toward the water.

“Plenty more—”

“That’s my favorite,” she says.

He sighs and reaches behind his back, pulling his shirt over his head as he kicks his sandals off.

Ugly feet. I want to see ugly feet.

When he jumps in after her pole, she is pointing and telling him, “Left, it’s left.”

“I got it, Mags,” he says.

I walk closer to see him swim toward it and grab it just as the end of the handle starts to sink.

“Fish still on it?” she yells.

He doesn’t answer as he swims toward the dock and hands it up before his hands hit the dock and he pushes himself out of the water.

The sun is setting behind him, showcasing his rippling and popping muscles. Then he hops up on the dock and runs his hands over his wet hair.

A man his size hopping around like he’s nothing...sexy.

God, I need help.

“Still on?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his body, wiping off the excess water.

“Sure is, my boy, sure is.”

Mags’ happy laughter snaps me out of me wanting to tell him to just take me now. Sort of.

I look at his feet and inwardly curse him and his Maker. They are perfect, too.

Why? Why? Why?

How is this fair?

It’s not.

I look up his body slowly, taking in every inch of him. When I get to the ink on his chest, I look at it closer than ever before, wanting to know what it all means to him. All of it.

I want to outline it with my fingers as I ask him to tell me his secrets. I want to trace it with my tongue as he tells me every one of them. I want his breath to catch when I lick across his sexy man nipples. I want to hear him growl when I bite down on them.

I want him.

I look up to find him watching me.

I want to look away, but when he licks his lips slowly, I look down to see what he’s looking at and realize my nipples are peaked, pointing at him like arrows of arousal.

I cross my arms over my chest, and he shakes his head slowly as he looks up at me while reaching down to adjust himself.

Dead. I’m fucking dead.

“Gage, my boy,” Mags says through her laughter. “He’s a biggen. Do you think he’ll be good eating?”

He looks down at my lower half, and my body clenches. “Damn sure it’s gonna be.” His nostrils flare when he looks up at me again.

When he turns around, I let out the breath I was holding. Then I take a deep breath, hoping to fill my lungs with something other than him.

It doesn’t work.

“I’m gonna head up and use the bathroom, Mags. You need anything?”

“Nope, but use Gage’s; it’s much closer.”

“No, it’s fine. I can just—”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass, Phoenix. My place is right there.” He looks back and points. “Use the door under the deck. There’s a bathroom to your left.”

I feel a need to argue, until I see Mags looking at me, then him and back at me.

“Okay,” I say as I turn around.

When I walk in through the backdoor, I am in what I assume is his man cave. There’s a bar, a pool table, and even a racing car arcade game. Three walls house televisions that are the biggest I have ever seen. There are huge, overstuffed theatre seating, and the wall around the French doors are covered with poster-sized black and white pictures of Gage and a boy.

“His son,” I say out loud as I step closer and touch his sweet, little cheeks.

“Brandon,” he says from behind me, causing me to jump. “We call him Brand.”

“For someone the size of freaking Shrek, you sure can go all ninja, Gage Fal—”

He grips the back of my neck and pulls me harshly toward him, causing our bodies to collide. With his other hand, he grips my ass and picks my up. I grab his shoulders as he lifts me farther up until we are eye to eye.

“You need to stop playing around and fucking lying to yourself about this,” he growls a demand.

Growls.

“This?” I gasp.

He moves across the room quickly and sits on a barstool, pulling me down on his lap. Now I’m straddling him as he grips my hips and moves me back and forth against his covered erection.

“Gage, I can’t.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you right now if you begged me. But I’ll be fucking dammed if I’m gonna look at a girl who’s looking at me like I’m un-fucking-touchable or unable to do more for her than use her body as a cum dumpster.”

“Oh, God,” I whimper as he rocks my hips against him.

“I won’t fuck you, Phoenix, because when I do, I’ll tear you open more than physically.” He groans, “Fuck.”

“You, you, you...” I try to pull away, feeling like I may...

“You fucking sit there and enjoy the ride. When you come, you come because you wanted to and you wanted me to be the one to help you make it happen. You come because you need to fucking come worse than I do. You come knowing you own your desire and your release. You come because I fucking say so. You fucking come, dammit.”

“Oh, Jesus,” I cry as he thrusts and drags my hips up and down him.

I feel every part of my body tense. I have never felt anything like this, not ever.

I look up at him, seeing his teeth are clenched and he looks so angry. I lean forward to kiss him, but he leans back.

“I wanna watch you take what you are so fucking afraid to take. I wanna watch you fall the fuck apart because you want it so goddamned bad.”

“Kiss me,” I beg in a voice I don’t even recognize.

“Take it, dammit,” he growls.

“I can’t,” I mewl, trying to push myself away, when he grinds harder.

“Fucking take it,” he growls again.

The heat, the tension, it’s too much. Too damn much while I sit on him, look at him, feel his body’s heat against mine.

One hand releases my hip and grips the back of my neck, pulling it against his shoulder. I hear his groans and grunts as he fucks me through our clothes.

I reach up and grab his hair hard, and he hisses when I start moving my body against his, rocking, grinding, feeling, taking.

“Oh, shit.”

“Take it,” he demands.

“Oh, God.”

“Take it,” he groans.

“Oh, yes. Oh, God yes. O, oh, oh...” I bite down hard on his shoulder while I cry out as my orgasm ripples through my body from my head to my toes. Then I throw my head back as my orgasm peaks and cry out his name.

“Fuck yes. Fuuuuck,” he hisses. “Yes.”

He slows the pace as I lay my head on his shoulder, panting.

He rubs his hand up then down my back, gripping my ass and squeezing tight.

“You good?” he whispers.

“Uh-huh,” I say, still lying limp against his heat.

“You gotta get up, squirt. Use the bathroom. Do what you need to do.”

When I don’t move, he sighs.

“Phoenix, Mags is gonna wonder what the hell is going on,” he whispers a chuckle.

I sigh then slide off his lap, unable to look up at him.

I start to turn away when he grabs my hip and stops me as he stands. He turns me, and I am looking down at his huge erection. I look up at his chest.

He grips my chin and raises my head. “That was all you. You wanted it. You took it.”

I nod, looking into his eyes.

“You feel like I used you for a damn thing?”

I shake my head no.

“Feel like you used me to get off?” he asks.

“No, of course not,” I gasp.

“Fucking can just be fucking. Just like what just went down.”

I scowl at him.

“We can keep doing this shit, Phoenix. You get off on my cock; I go pump one off. Or we can do it at the same damn time, together.”

I don’t know what to say.

“Mutual exchange of releases. Respect. Nothing wrong with it.”

“Until you fall in love with me,” I say, immediately regretting it.

He laughs. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Yeah, how silly to think it could,” I play it off as a joke.

“You despise men. I don’t feel much better about women. Not worried either of us want more than to just feel each other instead of getting off to the thought.”

I nod once, hoping he will stop this conversation.

“Good. Now you think long and hard about this. You can ride my fucking lap anytime you want regardless. Watching you come was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

When I walk out to the dock, Mags is filleting her fish.

“I’d offer to help...” I start with a shrug.

She grins. “Not your thing, huh?”

“No, not at all.”

“We each bring something different to the table,” she says.

I laugh. “I brought napkins.”

“You also brought company, conversation...” She stops and looks over my shoulder. “A smile to that man’s face.”

“What?” I ask.

“My boy likes you,” she whispers.

“No. Oh, no, it’s not like that.” I force a laugh that comes out louder than expected.

“Not like what?” he asks.

I feel my face burning while Mags smiles.

“I was just asking her if she wanted to help slice up this fish. She says she doesn’t like them.”

“Oh?” he asks, looking as completely confused as I am by what she just said.

“Exactly.” Mags chuckles.

He looks at me and raises an eyebrow, then walks toward Mags. “I’ll finish that up.”

I notice he’s changed his shorts, of course his ass looks even better in these ones than the last.

I look away quickly, hoping to not get caught gawking, towards Mags. Then walk to the picnic table.

Mags and I unpack her picnic basket and set its contents on the picnic table.

I smile at the spread before us. From the red gingham tablecloth, to tiny salt and pepper shakers, to the cucumber salad, potato salad, and an apple pie.

“What is it, honey girl?”

“It’s perfect. Like right out of a magazine.”

“It’s nothing fancy. But life can feel that way here.” She pulls out a mason jar filled with clear fluids.

“Mind if I have a drink?” I ask, pointing at the jar.

She chuckles. “Drink up.”

I dump some into my glass and take a drink.

As soon as it hits my mouth, I turn my head away from the table and spit it out.

“Oh, my God, Mags,” I say, slapping my tongue. “Did you mistakenly put rubbing alcohol in that jar?”

Gage laughs out loud from his belly, and Mags joins him.

“What is that?”

“Mags, you bring the moonshine down?” Gage opens up the cooler and grabs a beer out of it, handing it to me.

“I bring the shine to every picnic,” she says.

“Phoenix know this?” He laughs as I chug the beer, which also tastes like shit.

Mags smirks. “She does now.”

“Give me another,” I demand when the first beer is gone and my mouth still tastes like how turpentine smells.

“Right here, right now?” he whispers.

“Beer,” I plead.