My mood has been better these last few days than it was at the beginning of the week. I got the release I needed whether that was him or not. My heart says it was whoever I want it to be, my mind bouncing from the mystery man to my neighbor. I want it to be him. I want to know if it's him but I'm also not ready yet.
The mystery of it all leaves me riveting throughout the day. My arousal is always so close when I think about the next time I'm alone in a dark, secluded area. Would he follow me without us discussing it first? It's been two days since I've seen him online. I haven't left my house in that time, busying myself with school work, farm chores and getting ready for the next farmer's market as much as I can.
I've had several other requests for one on one time but I've declined them all, not giving any subscriber more than the next. It feels only reserved for him. I could use the money but a knot lodges in my throat when I think about doing it with someone else. It feels so wrong and I hate knowinghow disappointed I'll be at the end of them now. More than before. He's given me something to look forward to but has gone quiet on me out of nowhere.
Is he bored with me? Was this all some kind of joke to him? To see how far I would go?
No. I saw him. Those glittering dark eyes told me how much they wanted to be on me. How much he wanted me. It was him. It had to be. Whoever the hell he really is.
The good feeling inside me slowly dies the more I hyperfocus on if I'll ever talk to him again. There was this understanding flowing between us the other night. That it was okay for us to both let go. For us to both show each other more of who we are and what we can be together. He can't go away now. Not after that. Not after what his intense gaze promised me. It said it would always be lurking close by. That it would be everywhere I needed it.
My foot meets with a metal bucket, jamming my toes sticking out from my slides. I didn't even think to put on my boots when coming out here. I jumped out of bed this morning still feeling like a million bucks, singing as I showered and dressed for the day. There was so much pep in my step when I walked into the kitchen searching for something to eat, realizing just how low on food I was.
I'll need to go into town at some point today but kind of just want to crawl under the covers and dream about my stalker. If it's the only way I can bring him back I'll do it. He's probably busy. Maybe he travels for work or something. I don't want to try and figure out exactly what that something can be though.
I return to the pain in my foot, wanting to think about that instead. The throb helps take my mind somewhere else for a little while and when it fades, I don't have to wait long for another distraction because I slip on mud, falling flat on my face. “Son of a kettle corn.”
“That is the strangest curse word replacement I ever heard,” a deep voice says from above me. I look up, rubbing mud from my eyes and my neighbor is grinning down at me. He's been a lot less moody lately and I can't decide if it's a good or bad thing because the angry look in his eyes has been replaced with something mischievous. But I can't say I hate it either.
“Morning, neighbor. Did you have one of your usual clumsy moments or do you normally give yourself facials in mud puddles?”
I roll my eyes, digging my nails in the dirt, my knees slipping behind me causing me to fall forward again.
“Are you going to just stand there and get off on me struggling or did you come over here to actually be helpful?”
A deep laugh rumbles out of him and I'm not sure I've heard him make that sound before. It's not as light as I am, or most people when they hear something they find amusing but it's still pleasing to my ears.
“I guess I can offer you a hand since I'm here.” He reaches out to me and when I go to grab his fingers, he pulls back at the last minute and I'm face deep in the mud again.
His laugh is loud and he shakes his head, sticking out his arm again. “I'm sorry about that. I just couldn't help myself. Come let's go get that pretty face all cleaned up.”
Did he just call me pretty? Is that really what I'm stuck on right now after he just tricked me into face planting again? I mean it does help me feel less embarrassment so yes, yes it is. I grab for his hand again after staring at it hesitantly and he pulls me quickly to my feet, so hard my chest smashes with his and I dirty his red plaid button up. He's not wearing black today and I like seeing him in a little color. Makes him look more approachable. Although, I'd take him the other way too.
“Woah, easy now. Your way lighter on your feet than I thought you'd be.” His fingers tuck under my chin and he lifts my face, swiping mud from my cheek. “I'm getting quite used to this.”
“To what?” My breaths stammer.
“Cleaning up your messes. Come on, let's get that mud washed off you. I'd let you do it yourself but who knows what other trouble you'll get into. Can't have you trippin on your way inside. I'm sure it's not easy to see with all that mud in your eyes.”
I nod, trying to remember how to walk as he drags me through the front door of my house. Or my brother's house. I'm not sure anymore. It feels like home the more I'm here and scared to get too used to the idea. To settle in too much. I don't want to get used to something else I might lose.
Leading me to a chair in the kitchen, he pats the back and gestures for me to sit while continuing to hold my hand. Energy travels between us when he grips tighter, eyes boring into mine. It's so similar to the feeling I got the other night with my stalker. There I go again with wishful thinking. This guy couldn't want me like that. Could anyone after really knowing me?
Sheep Finder made me feel like it was possible every time he shared my same thought process. When he said my fantasies out loud as if we possessed the same ones. But was it all real? Is what I'm feeling heating between mine and Nicolas's skin real? It's a buzzing sensation that continues to hum through me when he finally lets go. Clearing his throat, he tells me to stay put and searches the kitchen for a towel, oddly finding them quicker than I did when I first got here.
He moves around the kitchen so easily, not needing to ever ask where something is and pauses when his eyes land on the pile of dishes in the sink. “This is getting a little out of hand. Dirty dishes sitting for too long isn't very sanitary.”
I sit up taller, pressing my feet together with my face heating. “I've been busy with school and farm stuff. The farmer's market is this weekend and I guess I've fallen behind on my upkeep of the house while trying to prepare.”
He runs the wash cloth under the water, shuts off the sink and turns around, frowning at the empty cans spread out all over the kitchen island. “I see. We work a lot more productively and sleep better whenever we have a clean space to wake up to everyday.”
“I'll try to keep that in mind,” I say, staring down at my feet.
Looming over me, his leather scent flows deeper into my nose and I hold my breath as if trying to keep it inside me longer. Breathing again, I meet his squinting eyes and he kneels down. He gently wipes at my face, running the warm cloth over every part of my skin covered in mud he can reach with my clothes on.
“Shirt off,” His tone shifts, laced with heat.
“I…” I lick my lips, hands staying at my sides and he clicks his tongue, resting a hand on my knee. The weight settles me and I lean into it, knowing I'll want it back as soon as it's gone. Knowing I'll want him back.