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“Hey. Whoa,” Theron hollers stopping his ATV a little way from mine and pointing toward me. “You got high centered,” he says like I’m supposed to know what that means. “Hop off. I’ll need to tow it out.”
When I’m standing a few feet off to the side I see what he means. The body of the ATV is stuck straddling a fallen tree. None of the tires were getting traction. That’s why I wasn’t going anywhere.
Theron pulls out the winch cable on the front of his ATV and hooks it to mine.
It seems like a straightforward process. When the cable goes taught as he backs up, I wait for the back tires to pop up over the trunk and my embarrassing mishap to be over.
But the damn thing doesn’t come loose right away.
Thinking I can help if I give it a little push, I go to position myself behind the ATV. Theron revs again. It’s so close to making it over. And then, when a bit of a branch breaks loose at the same time the ATV does, the branch flies back and thwaps my shin.
I yelp falling back on my ass on the muddy hill.
“Fuck. Skye, are you okay?” Theron runs over. He briefly lifts my hand off my leg. When he sees the blood staining the edge of the hole torn in the fabric over my shin, he doesn’t hesitate to grip either side of the tear and rip my pant leg all the way up my thigh.
I’m in pain but now that I’m imagining him ripping every shred of clothing from my body, I don’t care anymore. In fact, I’m thinking about finding another tree to pick a fight with so he can rip the other one too.
“I think it looks worse than it is. I have a first aid kit in my bag. Don’t move,” he says and goes over to get his bag off the back of his ride.
When he comes back, he sets the bag beside me, takes out a bottle of water, and pours it over the wound to clear away the mix of mud and blood.
Theron sighs. “It’s not that bad. It’s gonna bruise like a motherfucker and hurt like hell for a week or so but you won’t need stitches. Let’s get ya bandaged up and back to the house.”
“Oh. Okay.”
It’s hard to breathe while watching him tend to my wound. I wince when he pours the alcohol over it, then pant when he leans in, his lips a fraction of an inch from my shin and blows on the cut.
Goosebumps prickle my skin and they don’t stop when he gently applies ointment with the tip of his thick, callused fingers.
On top of everything else, when he sticks the bandage over the wound and smooths the adhesive tabs over my skin with his thumbs and lets his fingers circle my calf, I stop breathing entirely.
“Fuck,” Theron whispers so low I don’t think he intended for me to hear as his fingertips dig a little deeper into the back of my calf.
My heart thumps once really hard before beating so fast I feel faint.
“Is… Is something wrong?” I ask.
Theron’s breathing is erratic as his eyes shift upward to meet mine. They’re feral. Fiery and full of danger. “Don’t speak. And don’t fucking move.”
I bite my bottom lip to keep from asking him why. But I need to know. Why? What the fuck is going on?
Then I find out when he glides his hand up the outside of my calf, then flattens his palm on my knee moving his whole hand up my thigh until his fingertips play with the ripped edge of my jeans at my hip.
Is this really happening?
My pulsing clit certainly hopes it is.
“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my hands on these creamy fucking thighs of yours, city girl?” He slips the tips of his fingers under the fabric.
I gasp. Partly from the intimacy of his touch and partly because I’m still trying to process what the fuck he just said.
I blame my needy clit but when he traces his fingers around my hip toward the inside of my thigh, my knee falls to give him access.
“I said, don’t fucking move,” Theron barks and after gripping my wrists he slams them on the ground over my head as he moves to hover over me pinning me underneath him. “I’m playing with fire here, city girl. Didn’t I tell you? Don’t tempt me.”
“I didn’t. I—.”
“I walked away,” he snarls. “Youcame after me.Youwanted to be friends.”
