Page 13 of Ink
In the kitchen, Ink is standing over the stovetop flipping pancakes shirtless. I saw him last night without a shirt on, but it was dark, and the experience wasn’t quite as… illuminating as it is now. His chest is cut and perfect, and chest hair rolls down toward his stomach. He could be a model for one of those burly man magazines.
Is that even a thing? A mountain man magazine? I feel like that would sell.
“Hope you’re hungry.” He sets a mug in front of me. “It’s decaf.”
“You just had decaf lying around?”
He smiles. “I only drink decaf. Caffeine and I had a hot and heavy relationship back in the day, but it’s over now. You sleep okay after the drama last night?”
“Well, I don’t remember you getting out of bed. I think I just passed out.” I take a sip of coffee. Detoxing from caffeine has been the hardest. I miss the little buzz I got in the morning.
“Same. You decide what you’re doing today to relax?”
“The garden sounds nice.” My clit throbs as he sets the bowl of pancake mix where I’d been sitting last night.
“I like the idea of my little bunny in the garden.” He glances toward me and rounds the counter, leaving the bacon sizzling on the pan. His hand grips my hips, and he pulls me in closer. His lips graze my neck, his beard scrubs my shoulder, and the warmth of his breath lingers as he brushes his way down my arm, kissing inch by inch until he reaches my hand. His fingers weave through mine and he stares at me. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Good.”
“Emotionally, I mean. Yesterday was hard for you.”
I don’t think I’ve had a man ask me what my emotions are… on purpose. It takes me off guard.
“Oh.” I clear my throat. “I’m good. My friend Mable just told me that Dillon has gone missing, so fingers crossed it stays that way,” I say with a chuckle. It’s an awful thing to laugh about, but if Dillon never came back around, I think my life would go on just fine. In fact, it might be better than fine. In a few months I’ll start showing, he’ll do the math, and I’m sure he’ll do all kinds of things to make sure he’s in this baby’s life. Not because he cares, but for the spite of it all. Of course, it’ll be sporadic, and she’ll be crushed when he inevitably doesn’t show up for her birthday parties or dance recitals.
I cross my fingers and say a prayer that he’s forgotten the way back to Rugged Mountain. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
Ink clears his throat and kisses my forehead. “Let’s get you fed and outside for some sunshine. You need your vitamin D.”
I grin and pull his giant frame back into my orbit. “Yeah, I do.” My tone is hopeful that he’ll pick up on my innuendo.
Ink growls low in his throat. “You want me to get bossy, little bunny?”
A tingle rushes through me and my clit throbs hard. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
Nodding, I bite back a grin.
He cups my face with his giant hand and stares down at me. “Good girl. Strip down and run out to the garden. I’m in the mood for a chase.”
My thighs ache, and though I’m terrified to be this free with my body, I do as he asks, because I’m desperate for whatever comes next.
Chapter Six
Ink
A short white fence encloses the vegetable garden outside the cabin. I swear this is the best part of the house. The rows are carefully tilled, and shades of green pop in perfectly straight lines.
Bunny stands at the edge of the garden like a goddess. Thick and curved, the wind blows through her hair as a summer storm crackles in the distance. Scents of dust and ripe berries linger nearby and my palms ache to touch my little rabbit.
She grins and bites her bottom lip as her bare feet dig into the rich soil. The garden expands a quarter of an acre. She’s on one end and I’m on the other.
I stalk toward her, desperate to have her in my arms, but like a good little girl, she runs, pushing through the mounded soil and hilled potatoes. I don’t want her playing too rough, because we’re watching out for the baby, but I needed to see her like this.
In the wild, under the sunlight, with her little round belly on display.
She pushes through the center of the garden and pretends like she’s avoiding me, but the red lips of her pussy tell me otherwise. Her breasts sway back and forth as she moves, and my cock goes hard in the wind.
I speed up, desperate to feel her squirm against my chest. I love that she’s fun like this. That she’ll take my demand for craziness without a fight. That if I ask her, she’ll strip down and run into the garden with a smile.