Kaleb is at the other end of the barn, jeans hanging loosely from his hips, no shirt, and the sun shining across his bare chest, which is damp with sweat, as he brings the ax down and chops a log in two.
He rubs his jaw across his shoulder, blood from his open wounds spreading across his cheek.
“Go grab the First Aid kit,” Jake tells me as he starts to walk for the driver’s side. “Kaleb needs help.”
“Yeah, professional help,” I grumble. “He…”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the other night in the shop.
And about the barn yesterday.
But…I can’t put all the blame on Kaleb, I guess. It’s best not to bring it up.
“He threatened that guy with a gun yesterday,” I say, instead.
Kaleb scares me.
But Jake turns around and charges right back to me. “That guy,” he tells me, “has a clubhouse in town for gangbangs with a scoreboard on the wall, rating each girl on a scale of one to ten. There are no less than three-hundred names of all the tail he and his friends have bagged in their short lives.” And then he points in my face, and I rear back a little, scowling. “You’re fucking lucky Kaleb found you and not me, because I wouldn’t have waited before you left before I fucking killed him.”
I cock an eyebrow but don’t protest further.
“Now move your tush,” he orders.
He turns around and climbs in the truck, and I drag my feet for another minute after he drives off before walking into the barn and yanking the damn First Aid kit out of the cabinet.
He doesn’t want help from me. Not any more than I care to help him.
And I still don’t believe for one second he or Noah were trying to keep me safe. Even though, assuming what Jake said is true, it’s good they did show up, actually.
But, no. I think Terrance might have been correct on that assessment. They’re territorial. It could’ve been any guy with their baby cousin up there, and they would’ve been angry and started a fight.
Trudging over to where Kaleb is working, I stop, not wanting to make eye contact.
I hold up the kit to him. “You’re bleeding.”
He stares at me for a moment and then uses his shoulder to wipe the blood again before picking up another log, ignoring me.
Opening the box, I take out the Neosporin. “The ointment will keep it from tearing,” I say, calming my voice and trying. “Put the ointment on it.”
He stops, his hesitant eyes going from me to the tube in my hand.
I ease my shoulders, forcing myself to relax. I don’t want to fight today.
“Sit down,” I tell him softly. “Please.”
His eyes narrow, and he doesn’t move.
I gesture to the tree stump, softening my voice to almost a whisper. “Please sit down.”
He waits a few seconds, staring at me, but then…he sits.
Setting the box down, I take out an anti-bacterial wipe and move over to him, avoiding his eyes as I stand over him.
I clean off the blood on his face, gently wiping the scratches, as well, but I feel his eyes watching every move I make. They follow me as I lean down and pick at the dried blood and then rise up again to uncap the ointment. It doesn’t feel like the other night when he wanted me. Now, it’s like he’s scared of me. He’s watching for a wrong move.
I swallow. “Keeping it moist will keep it from scabbing, and it’ll heal quicker,” I tell him, dabbing ointment on his jaw. “Keep reapplying this, okay?”
I generously cover the entire length of the wound, blinking when the smell of soil, wood, and wet air hits me. He always seems to smell like that.
He says nothing, his chest rising and falling with breaths too perfect and controlled as if each one is an effort to stay calm.
His fists are balled as they rest on his lap, and I glance at him, our eyes meeting. A shiver runs through me. I like that he’s scared.
I get closer out of spite, dabbing far more ointment than he needs.
“You didn’t shoot that guy yesterday, did you?” I joke.
I glance over, and he’s still silently watching me.
But to my surprise, there’s amusement in his gaze.
My heart skips, and my insides feel like a warm puddle. It’s not a smile, but it’s soft. Like how I felt with him the other night for a few seconds. Like I could sink into someone.
I clear my throat and stand up. “Alright.” I recap the tube and hand it to him. “Here.”
He takes it, not once blinking as he stares at me.
“Reapply before bed,” I tell him.
But he doesn’t nod or do anything that acknowledges he heard me except continue to gawk.
“Lunch!” Noah calls.
I startle, looking across the yard to see him heading for the other truck.
“Wanna drive with me?” he asks. “I’m going to get cheeseburgers.”
I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or his brother, but I look back down at Kaleb and see him still looking at me.
And I’m not…confident about being left here alone with him.
I should go with Noah.
“Coming,” I say, holding Kaleb’s eyes as I walk away, the look he’s giving me telling me I’m right.
I shouldn’t be left here alone with him.
Noah
Her arm whips out, knocking pieces off my Harry Potter Wizard Chess board, some tumbling to the floor.
I wince.
“Noah, get up!” I hear my father shout on the other side of my bedroom door. His footfalls fade as he descends the stairs.
Fuck.The chick on top of me leans down, grabs the headboard, and rolls her hips up and down my cock. Come on… The hard flesh pulses with heat, but I can’t seem to get there. I grip her hips, guiding her faster and faster.
“Am I hotter?” she gasps.
“Yeah.”
“And my tits?” She cradles the back of my neck, shoving her breast in my face. “You like them better?”
I manage half an eye roll, but I give her nipple a bite for good measure. She does have nicer tits than Rory, but at least Rory knew what foreplay was. This chick trying to jump on my cock at six in the morning and expecting it to be immediately standing at attention is just downright offensive.
Luckily, I was able to conjure a sordid memory from high school to get me ready.
Leaning back up, she runs her hands over her body, squeezing her breasts as her blonde hair falls all around her. Then she slams the wall next to the bed with her hand and groans in pleasure.
Jesus, fuck. If Tiernan wasn’t awake in there, she is now.
I pull Remi’s hand down from the wall and sit up, kissing her to shut up her moaning. Being loud at night is one thing. Loud in the morning reminds everyone I’m late for work, because I’m fucking my ex’s eighteen-year-old sister in here.
“Noah!” my dad bellows again from downstairs.
Yeah, yeah… Just come already. Come on…
My head swims. I’m not into this.
But I don’t want to leave the room and deal with my father, either. I move my body faster, kissing her neck, pulling her hair, and fuck her from the bottom, her moans getting louder.
Come on, baby. Come.
“I love fucking you,” she croons.
I nod. Yeah, okay.
“I’m glad I got my turn up here.”
Your turn…
“Go hard,” she pants. “I’m daddy’s little whore.”
Ew. What the fuck? I close my eyes, my stomach rolling.
“You won’t hurt me, Noah,” she says.
Shhhhh…ut the fuck up.
“I dare you to try.”
That’s it. I grit my teeth and circle her waist, flipping us both around and pinning her on her back. I cover her mouth with my hand as I push her knees wide, spreading her open.
I fuck her hard and fast as my bed rocks, the floorboards creak, and I stare out the window behind my headboard. I just want this to be over.
I clench my jaw, the feel of her sweat making me feel like the walls are closing in. I want it off me.
I close my eyes.
I need out of this room.
Out of this house.
Out of the woods.
Off the mountain.