I can’t say I’m not scared. I hate storms. Thunder and lightning make me hide in the bathroom, but I don’t want Miller to think I’m a child. But seeing Little Miss Muffet standing there shaking with fear over the storm breaks my heart and gives me the courage for both of us.
Pushing my chair back, I rush to Miss Muffet as Miller goes to the window. Once I’ve got her in my arms, I turn back to find him staring out, shaking his head.
“No fire, by the looks of it, but that big old Cottonwood has fallen. It’s blocking the driveway. I can clear it in the morning, but no way you’re getting out of here tonight.”
Miller huffs out of the living room and down the back hall, as the rain and wind whip against the small cabin and Miss Muffet clings to my chest as I cradle her.
When he comes back a few minutes later, he’s carrying a blanket and pillow, which he throws in a heap on the sofa.
“You can have my bedroom. I put clean sheets on the bed.” He’s half-grunting the words my way, sounding angry, and I’m embarrassed because it feels like he’s pissed I have to stay. “There’s a t-shirt on the bed for you to sleep in. I lit some candles.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll take the couch...” I start, trying to keep my voice from shaking as a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning make me wince.
“No.” He barks. “You take the bedroom. Good night.” He turns away and my eyes start to burn. I thought things were going well, but he’s so hard and short with me clearly I misread whatever my lust-addled brain imagined.
“Good night then.” I whisper as he stands looking out the window.
“Night.” He grunts and my cheeks burn as I work my way down the dark hallway toward the flickering candlelight coming from the open door.
Once inside, I throw myself onto the bed and let the tears come.
Chapter Seven
Miller
SLEEP IS IN-FUCKING-possible.
She’s in my house.
In my god-damn bed.
And I’m laying here on the couch with a hard on even though I’ve jerked off twice in the last hour since, like an asshole, I sent her down the hall.
Why am I always waiting?
“Fuck.” I grit under my breath, fighting the urge but losing, and reach into my boxers again, running my fingers around my shaft, giving it a death grip as I imagine how her opening would feel around me.
My balls draw tight and if I could only tell her how I felt. What a maniac I am when it comes to her. I mean, I finally fucking get her here—
There’s a window-shaking clap of thunder that cuts off my thoughts and lightning so bright the entire living room is lit like daylight.
Another ground shaking thunder boomer, and then I hear it...
Low screaming.
Crying.
Coming from the bedroom.
I’m on my feet, tearing down the short hall and strong-arming the door open when I see her.
She’s in the corner of the bedroom, surrounded by the pillows from the bed, using them like shields with her head on her knees and her hands behind her neck, looking like she’s ready for a bomb raid.
“Baby. Kitten.” I launch myself across the room, down onto my knees next to her. “Hey...it’s okay.”
Another clap of thunder, and she turns into me, throwing her arms around me like she’s drowning, her body shaking as I slip my arms around and tug her tighter.
“I’m here. Nothing is going to hurt you. Ever.”
Jesus, yeah, so again, I finally get her in my fucking house and she’s crying.
Not just crying, terrified.
“I’m sorry.” Her muffled voice quivers into my shoulder. “I know it’s stupid, I can’t help it.”
“It’s not stupid. I’m here.”
“I know. Thank you.” She looks up, licking her lips, and her cheeks are rosy, but her eyes are red rimmed and I hate it.
I never want to see her cry ever again.
We sit there for a few minutes, the rain still coming hard, but the thunder diminishes, and I feel her body soften.
I hate that this is how I got to put my hands on her for the first time, but I guess I needed the push. Mother Nature must be rooting for us.
She has no idea my obsession with her. She’s been my world for three years, and being this close, feeling her against me, the broken groan caught in my throat, makes it hard to breathe. I want to use this moment to my advantage, but that would make me a bit of an ass.
I’ve had years go make peace with my infatuation, my love for her, but she may need some time.
I’ll give her five minutes.
If she only knew the hours I’ve spent following her. Preparing for her. I know where she goes and gets her hair cut. That she doesn’t always look both ways when she crosses the street. She sleeps with a stuffed alligator and still gets on her knees by the side of her bed and folds her hands to pray before she gets into bed at night.
She falls asleep on her side, but ends up on her back, and she snores a little bit.
How do I know? Because I fucking stalk her. I bought this little house across the street from her apartment and go there just to watch her with the high-powered binoculars and the listening equipment I researched online like some psycho. I have thousands of pictures of her on my computer. A few hundred I even had printed and I keep them in a folder in my office. They are worn around the edges now, from being handled.
Too many of them held in one hand while my other eased the ache for her. I’m a sick fuck, I sometimes even cum on the photos imagining my release on her tits. Her face. Her cunt. But letting myself go onto some two-dimensional fantasy of her never comes close to easing the pain I carry around, wanting her.
I can’t count how many times I fantasized about getting her here, all the things I want to do with her, to her. Playing out a million perfect scenarios that would woo her, make her love me the way I love her...
I shift, and she takes a deep breath and I feel it...crouching down next to her now I realize, my hard on is free from the opening in the front of my boxers and it’s resting its head on the pillow she’s holding.
If she looks down...
“Hey.” I start, trying to keep her eyes upward. “I think the storm is moving away.”
There hasn’t been another clap of loud thunder or a flash of lightning in a few minutes, even as the rain still comes down against the bedroom window. My mind races, thinking of how to make this moment perfect. I don’t want to fuck this up.
“Yeah.” Her eyes flit to the window, then back to my face, and before I can stop her, she pushes back, sets the pillow down next to her and shifts up onto her knees, my cock in full view between us. “Oh my god.”
Her sapphire eyes go round, and I see her swallow as her eyes stay pinned to my dick, which to add to the moment, is dripping cum from the tip.
“Fuck, I’m sorry—”
“No.” She cuts me off and I hold my breath. “It’s okay.”
I scoot backward, reaching down to try to put the fucker back in the barn and I’m shocked as hell when her hand comes to my forearm, holding it there.
The touch of her hand makes my balls twitch and more drops of cum slip from the slit of my cock, dripping down onto the top of my thigh. This isn’t how I wanted this to happen.