Page 14 of Snowed in with My Protector

How did this woman walk into my life and turn everything upside down so quickly.

When I hear the back door of the cabin open, I don’t turn toward Fallon. I didn’t need the squeak to alert me of her presence anyway. The moment she woke up, I knew it. As she watched me through the window, I could feel every caress of her gaze on my body.

The amount of focus I give to the next few logs, splitting them quickly and easily, should earn me a fucking medal. My soul is screaming to turn around and take in the woman who has captivated me from the moment she stepped out of Blake’s vehicle.

But I can’t.

Not when the storm on the horizon isn’t the only one brewing.

I’m a damn mess and she deserves so much more than me.

But has she said that?

She doesn’t have to. I know and she has no idea.

There’s no way she could see the scars on my soul and the gapping wounds still festering in my mind. My demons are my own and I’ve run from them for a long fucking time. The fact that they always found me doesn’t matter.

I’ve never faced them.

The losses.

The death.

The way my skin crawls when I can’t move fast enough.

The way silence stretches and mocks.

Fallon shouldn’t be sullied by the soot from those memories, of those feelings. She deserves to be pure. To be clean.

My chest is heaving by the time I plunge the axe back into the stump and look at what I’ve accomplished. The stack of logs I’ve split makes my eyes widen. I wasn’t even aware of how much I’ve gone through, far more than I was planning to prepare for the storm since it’s not like I ever allow my wood supply to be lacking.

I run a hand through my hair and mutter, “Fuck.”

Getting lost while tangling with my demons, a dance I’ll never lead, is not a good idea. Not right now when I have Fallon to keep safe.

I’m not sure what to feel when I look over at the porch and find Fallon isn’t perched on the bench there. I didn’t even hearthe back door open again. While I squeeze my eyes shut, I try and get a handle on the riot of emotions inside of me.

I whisper, “What are the facts?”

There’s no denying how much I want Fallon. But she deserves so much more.

Don’t you think she’s the one who should decide that?

Maybe.

Movement catches my eye and there she is looking out the window, her eyes half mast and filled with a longing hunger which is echoed by my own need.

Could I?

Can I be enough? Strong enough to make this work? Good enough to offer her the world? Healed enough to give her what she needs?

I grab an armful of wood and my axe before trudging toward the back porch. I rest the axe next to the door before getting all the wood put away and covered in a tarp. This side of the house has good coverage with the porch and the wood should stay dry enough.

The entire time I’m working, I can feel Fallon’s eyes on me. It only causes the tension between us to build; a constant pressure that will need an outlet sooner rather than later.

My cock has been constantly hard since she arrived here, and nothing helps. I’m not even sure how many times I’ve jacked off while picturing all the ways I want to claim her. Getting a taste of her didn’t do a damn thing to help.

No, it only made the desire I have for my woman to increase. Tenfold.

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