I shake my head as I lift the plates and turn to the sink. The whole time while we ate, Katarina talked. She told me about the craziness with her mom, and although she was obviously sad that her parents’ marriage didn’t work out, there was happiness there too. I don’t get the impression that there’s any resentment. When the conversation turned to her father, well, I imagine she noticed the dark look that came into my eyes. I don’t think that man and I will see eye to eye anytime soon. But I have to admit, it’s pretty obvious that he loves Katarina, and I guess that’s something we have in common.
She tried to get me to talk, asking questions, but talking really isn’t my thing. What do I have to talk about that would interest someone like her? I’ve lived out here in the woods my whole life. I built this one-bedroom cabin right in the same spot my own father’s cabin was built, after he died and it became clear to me that there was no fixing the old place. My mom, god rest her soul, died in childbirth, so I can’t even share old family memories. I’m nothing, and Katarina? She’s everything.
She’s smart, too. And hard working. Helping out at the animal shelter, on top of her job at the NICU, is a lot to take on. Shirley’s a good person, and she won’t take advantage, but she’s lucky to have someone like Kat on her side.
“So, I guess I’d better get going,” she says, distracted as she musses the kitten’s fur. “That meal was something else, but I don’t want to intrude.”
I ignore her, taking two bowls out of the cupboard and a dessert from the fridge. When I bring the bowls to the table and set one down in front of Katarina, her eyes light up. It’s a meringue and cream concoction of my own design, with a raspberry drizzle and chocolate sprinkles. She looks so excited by what’s on the table, and I feel my heart swell a little with pride. But then she shakes her head, trying to avoid my gaze.
“I...didn’t expect anything else. Like I said, I’m really full.” She turns an embarrassed smile on me, but I shake my head.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Uh...sorry, you’ve gone to all this trouble—”
“What you said was that you have to watch your weight. And you don’t. What you have to do is enjoy this dessert, eat as much as you like, and forget what anyone else thinks. You’re beautiful, and the only consequence of eating exactly as much as you like, of exactly whatever you want, is that you will get more beautiful. Happiness is beautiful.”
Her mouth drops open, and she just stares at me for a moment, eyes wide. Then she draws a deep breath. “Wow.”
“What?”
“That’s the most you’ve said to me all evening.” She grins as she picks up her spoon, and I watch her hand as she cuts through meringue and cream, then lifts it to her lips. Once again, as the cream goes into her mouth, my cock gains another inch at the thought of those lips wrapped around my shaft, of my hands in her hair, pulling her forward as she takes every inch of me. “Oh, god...that’s soooo good...” She moans, and I cum in my pants.
Chapter Five
Miller
FUCK.
I’m a grade A loser.
Two days ago, I had Katarina right here, in my house. I can still smell her perfume, a combination of cherries and honey, and every time I get a hint of that smell it makes me harder than I already am.
Seriously, I’ve been walking around for two days with a hard-on that would frighten a gorilla, and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s ever going to go back down.
Probably not. Because the only solution I can think of is to get it inside her, and since she’s no longer here that doesn’t seem to be an option.
Like I said: grade A loser.
I had her here, and I let her go, and I didn’t even say what I wanted to say. Not any of the words I wanted to say. She probably thinks my vocabulary runs to occasional grunts and one-syllable words.
Miss Muffet didn’t take any more easily to Katarina being gone than I did, to tell the truth. She was calm while Katarina was here, while we were together, then the moment she left the claws came back out. Literally. The furniture that hadn’t been ruined already didn’t last long, and I still have teeth marks in my nose from where she decided to take a long, hard bite.
And I worry about her too. Can you believe that? A big, gruff man like me worrying about the safety of a kitten? She’s mine now. I have to protect her, even if she ends up destroying my house and giving me scars. Because I protect what’s mine.
So, between the kitten and missing Kat, I’ve barely slept a wink. I’ve taken to getting up in the middle of the night, grabbing Miss Muffet—who seems to never sleep—climbing into my truck and going for a drive into town.
And that invariably leads me to the little house I bought over the road from Katarina’s place. Me and the kitten go inside, sit in the dark, and I watch the window across from mine.
It’s not the best place for Katarina. That’s what I noticed the first time I went there. Just a small apartment with a single room that serves as bedroom, living room and kitchen. It has a little bathroom with a shower, but that’s it. Crazy for her to be living there, when her father owns half the town, but from what I’ve seen he’d like to give her more, but she’s all for her independence.
I get that, and I admire it, but I’m still not happy about her surroundings.
When she’s not there, I have two choices. Sometimes, me and the kitten drive over to the hospital, or the shelter, or her favorite burger bar, anywhere she goes, and we keep out of sight while we watch her. Just watching her turns me on, and I could do it all night, but there are other times when I leave Miss Muffet in my new property while I go across the street.
If she’s left the window slightly open, as she often does, it’s not difficult to pry it up the rest of the way. These old locks aren’t much good at keeping people out, they’re really only there to hold the window in place, and since her room is on the ground floor it’s quick to gain entry. I’m not above snooping around her things, taking a sniff of her perfume or rooting through her clothes. Yeah, I’m a dirty fucker, and I’m ashamed every time, but I can’t help myself. And in my defense, when I leave, I make sure the window is properly closed so nobody else can get in.
I’ve taken a few things home with me, too. Just little things, reminders of her. Miss Muffet has claimed one of them as her own, which is the only thing that has calmed her down. Her cat basket is now lined with one of Katarina’s sports bras, and she’s fast asleep on top of it right now. The basket is tucked away underneath the stairs, so if one of my extremely rare visitors did decide to come round, they wouldn’t see, but it still makes me ashamed to think of it.
Playing with the phone in my hand isn’t doing me any good. I’ve got wood to chop, but with Katarina on my mind I’m worried I might end up cutting off something I shouldn’t.
I bring up her number for the eight-thousandth time today, stare at it for a moment, then take a deep breath. I shouldn’t. There’s no need to call her. Truth is, with Katarina’s bra to sleep on Miss Muffet has finally started to calm down. How do people normally deal with this?
I press the green button before I’ve even thought and put the phone to my ear. It rings for what feels like an hour, and I almost put it back down, but then I hear her voice on the other end.