Page 53 of Scent of Home

Footsteps draw me back to the here and now, and I look up and spot my door closing plunging the shed back into the semi-dark I was working in. I tense and strain, listening for someone in here. There’s only one person who can sneak up on me, and as tension builds, my suspicions are confirmed when I catch the scent of pine. Seconds pass in an agony of anticipation, and then a huge hand wraps around my wrist, yanking it behind me, gouging into the pressure points until I let go of the spark plug with a curse. The scent of Shane fills the air, and my mind sluggishly tries to catch up as I drown in his intoxicating scent.

If this were anyone else, I might panic, I might be afraid, but my traitorous body is pumping with excitement sizzling in my blood, sending everything happy straight to my cock. If he wanted to kill me, I’m not sure I’d fight him.

I attempt to swing back, but I’m suddenly pressed against the car and held still. Nothing I do frees me. I fight, though; I give it everything until I’m panting, and only then do I slump, exhausted and so very aroused. Why is it so hot to be overwhelmed by him? I’m sick, I know it.

“What do you want, Shane? Come to warn me off?” I ask bitterly.

Shane says nothing. He reaches out and takes my rag from my back pocket. I tense but don’t move when he slides his hand up my wrist to my shoulder. I tremble, but I decide to play this out, see if it bites me in the ass like usual.

I exhale sharply, but then he wraps the rag over my eyes, blinding me. My heart thumps hard. This could be a setup. This could be revenge.

Who fucking cares?

He ties it up and then grabs something that smells intensely of Erin and shoves it in my mouth, silencing me. I moan around the fabric.

Shane leaves me, then. I strain to hear his steps as he moves away from me, but then the door locks. The disappointment that had grown turns to dust. My whole body feels electrified. I turn towards his steps as he walks back to me.

His hands land on my chest, huge and hot. I let out a groan and slide my fingers up his body. Have I wanted to do this since I met him? Yes. Totally and completely. The first moment I met him, I knew I wanted this.

Why today, why now?

Wait, I don’t care. He pulls my singlet up and off me, then slides his huge hands over my pecs and over my abs. My skin almost seems to vibrate where he touches me. I lean forward, pressing my face to his neck, closing the distance between us.

If this is a joke…I roll my hips against his, and there it is, proof that it’s not all me.

I moan, but Shane grabs my hair and pulls the panties out of my mouth. His mouth covers mine, his tongue dueling with mine. Kissing Shane is like kissing a mirrored version of myself. We’re two sides of the same coin. We fit. It’s effortless and easy.

Like breathing.

Please, don’t let this be a dream.

Why can’t he see that we’d be perfect? Why doesn’t he see how good we could be?

Shane licks up my jaw and growls. It’s so vicious that I shiver in response. I’m still reeling when he drops to his knees and starts pulling at my belt.

I gasp and catch myself with one hand on the car, while my other hand threads through his hair.

Shane Hutchins, my enemy, rival, and biggest fantasy doesn’t mince words. He grips my shaft in his hand and strokes me hard. I’m barely coming to terms with that when he takes the tip of me into the hot heaven of his mouth.

I let out a strangled sound, my fingers curling around the metal of the hood of the car. I have to fight back the urge to thrust into his mouth. All I want to do is reach up and tear my blindfold off. I just want to see him, but somehow, I know if I remove it, it’s over.

I don’t want this to be over.

I stroke his head, finger-combing those sun-kissed locks of his. He takes me deeper, working his tongue around me. I tremble, and just the knowledge that Shane is on his knees for me has me close to coming. I work my fingers down the side of his face.

I think he leans into my hand, but I can’t be sure.

“Shane,” I whisper.

He sucks harder and takes me deeper before he starts bobbing his head, setting a pace that brings me instantly to a fight with my desire, a fight not to end this too soon.

“Shane, wait, I don’t want-”

He grips my ass and pulls me towards him, taking me deep into his throat. That strangled sound becomes a moan as my mind obliterates and splinters around me. He pulls back and swallows me again, pushing me over the edge. I clench my fingers in his hair, holding him on my dick as a cry escapes from me.

He draws back, sucking lightly. I shudder as the edge of my orgasm recedes, leaving me an exhausted mess. His hands crawl up my thighs, explore my balls, trace the contours of my body. The touch is sensual and hesitant.

I stay still, terrified to move. I don’t want this to end.

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