Page 38 of SnapShot

“What’d you bring, anyway?” I remove the blanket from the saddle bag and fan it out over the ground. It’s just an old thing that Grams had packed in her closet. A quilt that probably had stuffing in it at some point but is now flat as a pancake from overuse. Good and broke in as she’d call it. No telling how old it actually is.

As the containers are laid out, my eye catches on none other than two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. There’s also a makeshift adult lunchable tray with ham, colby jack cheese, and crackers. The drinks are just as fancy. Two sweating cans of soda. He really pulled out all the stops, huh? “This is..something,” I muster.

“Sometimes the simple things mean the most. It may not be Michelin star worthy, but it survived the trip in one piece. I bet it tastes pretty damn good, too.”

The fact that he chose something so simple and easy gives me fuzzy feelings. He might actually be catching onto me. I don’t need or want fancy. The thought that went into this meal means more to me than any five star dinner. “It’s perfect, Charlie.”

“You don’t have to kiss my ass. If you were expecting something better, you don’t have to pretend to be satisfied. I don’t ever want you to be fake with me. About anything.”

“Would you calm down? Jesus. I was being serious. It’s perfect. I would be judging the hell out of you if you had tried to tote some big fancy meal all the way out here. This means more than any of that to me. You just might be growing on me, Charles,” I tell him with a playful wink.

“I’m glad. Now dig in before the ants have a feast.” He scoots the paper plate over to me, and I pop the top on my soda before relishing in that first bubbly burn sliding down my throat. This must be what all the love songs are written about. This feeling of contentment that reminds me of home. When the stresses from life fade to nothing. The problems of the world have no power here. It’s one of those moments where you want to take a camera and capture it in a freeze-frame. One that you can visit when things are bleak and you’re drowning. It pulls you out of the deep end. That first intake of breath when your lungs have been screaming for too long to be let free. It hurts and it’s scary for a brief moment, then the relief takes hold.

We eat and talk like an old couple. Not in terms of age, but of comfortability. The kind that’s usually observed between couples who have been together for years, been to hell and back and came out on the other side. When the place is all picked up, we both mount the horses and head back to the house. We must have been gone longer than I thought because the sky is filled with purples and pinks that make your heart soar when you look at it. I take my phone out and snap a quick picture to add to my collection for a rainy day.

When my feet touch the ground, I turn to find Charlie staring at me with something akin to amusement in his eyes. “You got a staring problem, cowboy?”

“Not at all. Just that every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you go and surprise me. I love it.” A stupid grin takes over my face, and I can’t get rid of it the entire time I’m putting everything up. The horses were more than ready to be back in the pasture where they immediately dropped to the dirt for a quick roll. Bastards. Covered in sweat, the dirt sticks to them in disgusting clumps. Hopefully the rain coming in will help wash them off so I don’t have to. There’s nothing more annoying than trying to hose down a two thousand pound animal that’s afraid of water. I have a scar across the top of my foot that proves it. An old stud horse Grams had years ago sliced me open with his hoof after he jumped away from the water stream. It’s not super noticeable, but the memory still irks me when it’s time to bathe the yard puppies.

Walking into the tack room to rack the saddles, the equipment we didn’t use for our ride is strewn across the floor, some of it cut apart. Saddle pads that have been shredded. Bridles cut apart. Brushes and horse shoes scattered around. “What the fuck happened in here?” Charlie hollers from behind me.

“I’ll tell you what happened. Brad happened.” I debate telling him why I know Brad did this in a pathetic attempt at a tantrum. Deciding that he deserves to know what kind of mess he’s getting dragged into, I settle on the truth. “I may have poked the bear a little too hard the other day. I guess this is the consequence. I posted a saucy picture on my SnapShot that he would be familiar with to get his attention. Draw him out of hiding.”

“And why would you want to do that?” There’s a hint of anger in voice, but I can tell that he’s trying to hold it back.

“Because I’m not going to wait like a sitting duck for him to come after me. I won’t be caught in a weak moment against this asshole again. I’m taking matters into my own hands, making sure he gets what he deserves. And I’m trusting you with this information hoping like hell that you don’t run for the hills because I actually like you. A lot. I don’t want to lie to you or hide the parts of myself that you may not like. I’m going after him, Charlie, and I don’t expect you to agree with me or help me in any way except for not ratting me out to the police. I’m laying it all out for you to make your choice.”

He rubs a hand over his face, smoothing out his short beard as he looks at me with troubled eyes. He’s conflicted, I’m sure. I can only imagine how I would feel if I was in his shoes. Refusing to push him, I start to pick up the mess Brad left of my tack room. One of the shittier parts of this is that not all of this equipment is mine; some of it belongs to Kate. I’ll replace whatever she lost, though.

“What’s the plan?” His question catches me slightly off guard.

“Probably best that you don’t know if I’m being honest.” I cringe inwardly. This is it. I’ve enjoyed having Charlie around more than I’m willing to admit, but I can’t expect him to stay through this. I’m about to make myself into some psycho chick, and who would want to add that to their plate? This is much more than he signed up for when we met online however many months ago that was. Time seems irrelevant now. The way this man has healed me in ways that he wasn’t responsible for breaking is something that I’ll remember for the rest of my life. I’m not sure what will happen after I go through with this, but I know that I’ll be able to look back knowing that I did the damn thing. I saved myself, and I refuse to apologize for it.

The way he looks at me can only be described as a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “You trying to protect me, little brat? Huh?” His arms circle my waist from behind. The heat from his breath tickles my ear as he whispers, “Do you think I’m too innocent to get my hands dirty?”

Shock and desire thrum beneath my skin as my body comes alive from his words as well as his touch. It’s feather-light, but it may as well be gasoline to a fire the way it ignites every nerve ending I have. Tilting my head to give him better access to my neck, my breath exhales shakily. “You are.” I know I’m poking the bear, but at this moment, I crave his loss of control too much to care.

His hand wraps around my throat with urgency and dominance. “It seems like someone needs a reminder of how dirty I can get.” His free hand skims the hem of my shirt before disappearing beneath my jeans. God, I’m still wet from earlier. I get the feeling he’s not up for teasing this time, though, which is fine with me. I’m more than ready to impale myself on him.

A fleeting thought that this might be the last time I get to have him tries to push through to the front of my mind, but I refuse to let it manifest, determined to enjoy what time I do have. The future doesn’t matter right now; the only thing that does is the feeling of his finger grazing my clit. “I need more.”

The pressure around my throat increases. A new sensation prickles at the juncture of my neck and shoulder before I realize it’s his teeth, marking me. A moan escapes my mouth in combination with his name on my lips. “Charlie. Please. Give me more.” I arch into him, searching for more friction. More pressure. More everything.

“Shut up and take what you’re given. I can draw this out as long as it pleases me. This isn’t about you. This is about me. What I want. And right now, Haedyn, what I want is to see you squirm. Wet and wanton for my touch. This,” he whispers as he circles my bean with expert pressure, “is mine. My toy. My body. My pleasure. Got it?”

When I don’t answer, his movements halt except for his fingers skating up to turn my face toward his. “Answer me. Do you understand?” Loud and aggravated, I respond. “Yes. Fuck. Just let me come, you ass.” A whimper narrowly reaches the back of my throat when he delivers a sharp pinch to my clit for my attitude. “Behave, and I’ll think about it.”

I hate him. I don’t say that to him, though; I would like my orgasm sooner rather later, thank you. A meager nod is all I can muster, but of course, he doesn’t accept it. “Ah ah ah. I need your words.” The urge to roll my eyes is too strong to resist. It would be too much to ask that he ignore the motion. Bastard.

He pulls his hand out of my pants to bring his finger to his mouth, thoroughly cleaning it of my essence, side-eyeing me the whole time. A devilish smirk yanks on one side of his mouth as his tongue circles the tip slowly. Moaning softly at the taste of me, his own eyes roll back into his head. “Something to say? I haven’t heard anything. No worries, though. I can wait. Can you?” He quirks an eyebrow at me.

His tongue works overtime as he wets the entirety of his palm, keeping his other hand firm around my throat still. I’m impressed he hasn’t let up at all. What’s more impressive is the way he yanks his belt loose and opens the front of his pants with said wet hand in order to free his throbbing cock, using his spit to aid in stroking himself. When he reaches near the tip, his ascent halts. Instead, he slaps the crotch of my jeans with the head. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and it’s all yours,” he tells me, a hint of amusement in his voice.

This is punishment for bratting all afternoon. I know it is. Just tell him what he wants to hear, Hae. You can do this. “Got it. Now will you make me come?”

A satisfied grin takes over his entire face. It just might be my favorite fucking view. He’s gorgeous. His rough beard on his jawline the perfect frame to his sinful smile. Eyes bluer than the sea, with the darker streaks matching the parts of my soul that only he seems to connect with. I could study them for hours, getting lost in their depths. Fuck. I’ll do whatever he wants if he’ll keep looking at me like I hung the moon.

He releases my neck and gives me his back. Seconds later, he turns back to me with his belt in his hands. My mind doesn’t have time to question his intentions before it’s slipped over my head and tightened just enough to pinch. He jerks his head in a gesture to the ground. “On your knees, Haedyn. I want to hear you beg.”

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