Page 33 of For the Win
The Win from my memories was a flirt who stole my sanity and probably wouldn’t have cared about my problems, but the rambling, awkward teacher I carried home this morning gets me in a way that continues to humble me. The more I know about him, the more I want to know.
So now along with my obsession and this new possessiveness, I feel protective as well. Seeing him in my clothes and watching him eat my food has been deeply satisfying in a way I can’t explain. I want to make sure his phone stays charged and that he’s wearing boots appropriate for the weather as much as I want to fuck him hard enough to break this bed.
I want to hear him spout strange facts and confusing references as much as he wanted me to talk dirty in Turkish while his mouth was on my cock.
I wasn’t able to resist returning that favor today. He was lounging on the pillows with his hair a mussed crown around him, his lips red and swollen and his strangely beautiful eyes on me. He looked like some erotic drawing of a fairy king. Earthyand ethereal. Delicate and dangerous. A smooth, slender body with a surprisingly hefty cock I needed in my mouth.
My own stirs again as I remember his taste. It was better than my favorite dark chocolate and twice as addicting. I could almost believe he was made of magic, appearing near my cabin in the snow and singing a song meant to draw me in. Confusing my senses until I shared all my secrets.
Well, most of them.
I’m not usually the one prone to foolish notions. That’s always been my mother’s job in our family, as she’s told me herself many times. She paints fantasies and believes in things like love at first sight and fate to balance out her realist son and pragmatic brothers.
For the majority of her life, all that got her was a child out of wedlock and a big mysterious bank account in a small town that lived for gossip. Until my stepfather showed up and swept her off her feet a few years ago, she was a favorite subject of those wagging tongues. We both were, which is why I wasn’t too broken up about the tutors and private schools my father arranged.
I’m glad she’s happy now. In love, traveling the countryside in an RV of all things, and continuously assuring me it was worth the wait. But until recently I thought she was kidding herself about all of it. True love and fairies. Neither one of them was real. I was sure of that until I met Win.
She and the uncles would all love him. But it’s obvious he’s not thinking about the long term yet. He gets as skittish as a colt in a thunderstorm whenever he feels something more for me than attraction. I’ve seen it in his eyes.
Like I said, he’s easy to read. I know without building a dossier that he’s probably the hardest-working teacher at his school. From his stories, I know he’s fought to earn everything he has. A roof over his head and chicken nuggets on the table. Iknow he values people over things and cherishes his friendships above everything else. He jokes both to entertain and to deflect from things he doesn’t want to talk about. And, as it stands now, he’ll most likely disappear as soon as the storm ends. He’ll think of this as a “hookup” and put it, and me, in his rearview mirror.
I think I’d like to change his mind.
You think?
When the dogs start fussing, I manage to rise from the bed without waking him to check on them, give them both treats and change their pads. I’m grateful I thought to bring those, with the way the wind is still howling outside. Mims and Mad wouldn’t last three seconds in that.
You take care of the M&M sisters and go above and beyond for random strangers.
He gives me too much credit. I wasn’t lying when I said the dogs were good company, but I agreed to take them initially because that’s what I’ve always done. I took care of my mother and did my duty to my father in repayment for his support. Now she’s got a husband and he’s dead, but Mims and Mad still need me.
It might not be the healthiest reason to keep them around, but they never hold my faults against me.
As far as taking care of Win… He wasn’t a stranger to me, but I did my best to treat him like one, respecting his space in case he didn’t feel the same relief at seeing me there as I did. While he was unconscious, I slogged to the cabin’s converted barn where my rental is parked to find the universal charger. I knew he’d want it as soon as possible and I needed him to feel safe with me.
At least that part of the day was a success. Win feels secure enough that he hasn’t demanded his phone yet, and I feel…too much to behave sensibly. I shouldn’t have come on so strong. Should have given him more time to recuperate. Hell, if I were really interested in doing this right, I could have gotten to knowhim without adding sex to the mix, then waited to pursue him until his ankle was healed and he wasn’t under my roof and in my care.
He wouldn’t have let you.
Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I can’t bring myself to regret any of it.It doesn’t matter if it happened through serendipity or scheming—and yes, I can see how this situation appears entirely too tidy and coincidental. Being close to Win again has proven that what I felt wasn’t imagined or blown out of proportion. It damn sure isn’t one-sided.
There’s something between us. Something more than sex, though that’s definitely part of the equation. So much so that if I climbed back into bed with him now, I might be too tempted to wake him for another session.
Slipping on the sweatpants he was wearing after untying the knot that held them up on his slender frame, I pick up my glasses and phone and head upstairs, where I won’t disturb him. Only when I’m in the master bedroom with the door closed do I look at the last message on my phone. It was sent after I talked to Connor, when they all realized I’d found Win and we’d be snowed in together until tomorrow.
Take care of him. Call me when you can.
The phone is ringing before I realize I’ve dialed the number.
“How’s Win doing?” are the first words out of Ken Tanaka’s mouth. “Was he hurt? That cabin has its own generator, so you should still have power.”
“We haven’t lost power, but if we do I know where the generator is,” I inform him stiffly. “Win is fine, like I told his friend. He twisted his ankle and got a few scrapes, but he’s already feeling better. He’s…resting.”
Fortunately, Ken sounds too busy talking with someone on the other end to notice my hesitation. “Brady says he’ll come get him as soon as the weather lets up. He can bring his brother Rory. You met him, right? He was a paramedic but he just graduated to nurse practitioner. He’ll double check to make sure Win’s in the all clear.”
At this point, I’ve been introduced to so many people I can’t remember. “Fine, but I don’t think he needs it. I wrapped his ankle and got him warm. He’s eaten and slept and I have a feeling he could rattle off all the presidents and their three greatest accomplishments in his sleep, so he doesn’t have a concussion.”
“That’s our Mr. Winston. I can’t believe he walked out into the woods voluntarily.”
