I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Relief… and something else.
But she leaves something behind. Her scent lingers, wrapping around me, getting under my skin.
I try to focus, loosening a bolt, but my mind drifts straight back to her. The way she stood there. The way she watched.
I picture her close behind me, her soft, slender hands on me?—
“Fuck me,” I mutter.
The spanner slips from my grip and hits the ground. I swear under my breath and head straight for the shed, slamming the door shut behind me, my erection straining in my jeans, urgent, painful. I lean against the door.
I can’t think like this. I need to get myself under control before she comes back, or I’m going to make a complete mess of things.
There’s only one thing for it. But I need to act fast.
I shove my jeans open, gripping hard, leaning back further against the wall as the pressure builds. My head drops forward, breath rough in my throat.
Not slow.
No chance of that.
I move faster, chasing release, letting the image take over again—her presence behind me, her hands where mine are, her soft voice whispering in my ear. My eyes are closed, focused on the sensations flooding through me, so I never notice when the shed door swings gently open in the morning breeze.
CHAPTER 11
Sierra
The sounds reach me first on the walk back. Talon is no longer in front of the car. He’s nowhere in sight.
“Talon?” I call lightly, curiosity pulling me toward the shed, where the sound of heavy, rhythmic breathing is coming from. I’m not sure what I expect to find—maybe he’s rummaging for tools or working on an engine. Or perhaps he’s just blowing off steam with a set of push-ups.
What I find stops me cold.
Talon stands with his back leaning against the wall, eyes squeezed shut, hand wrapped tight around his large, veiny cock, stroking hard and fast.
So much for push-ups.
I can’t even laugh at the thought that flickers through my mind. I’m too caught in the sight of him.
His body arches, muscles straining under his own grip, his shoulders pressed to the wall, his head tipped back as a guttural groan tears out of him. Sweat tracks down his chest, sliding over hard muscle, making him gleam. It feels obscene, like I’ve walked into something private and intimate—and somehow, it feels like it’s for me.
Holy shit.
His face is tight with pleasure, jaw slack, breath shuddering as he pushes himself higher, chasing it, holding it?—
“Fuck!”
The release hits, sharp and sudden, white spilling into his hand.
My breath catches. I don’t think I’ve breathed at all. I’ve never seen anything like this, never felt desire hit so fast, so hard.
I can’t look away. My gaze drags over him, memorizing every line, every flex of muscle.
He’s beautiful. Completely, overwhelmingly masculine.
And his cock?—
My attention locks there as he pants, still hard, not fully spent. He’s uncut—something I’ve never seen in person before. I thought it might put me off.