Chapter 5

5.9K 260 12
                                    

Yay another chapter, things are starting to heat up!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Bubbles rise furiously to the surface of the pot of stew hanging over the fire. I stir in the meats, onions, root vegetables, and spices concocting an intoxicating blend of rich scents. I inhale deeply and sigh, that was one strongpoint of mine. They said I was one of the finest cooks in Yeller; Mother could not cook for the life of her so it gave me incentive to learn. Slowly, I stir the stew with a wooden spoon. I slowly set the table for two; even though John and I fought and I would still wring his neck cheerfully I supposed he at least deserved a good meal. He drudges in just as I finish setting the table.

                His eyes are sunken in, he needs to shave, and his hair is drenched in melted snow. When he stormed out he did not look this unkempt. His breathing fast and his eyes are bloodshot. I nearly shriek at the sight of him standing there, one shoulder hung low. I slowly step over to him; he starts to slowly shrug off his thick wool coat. I reach out my arms to take it; he lays it carefully in my waiting arms. The jacket is damp with snow. I hang it by the fire to dry. He seats himself on a stool, and slowly unlaces his boots. His eyes are distant. I come and stoop down to his level on the stool. His eyes flicker to mine, they lock. It’s like I have lived a thousand lifetimes with him, and it still feels like we are young lovers each time so new.

I jump back and land on my hind-quarters. My cheeks burn as I start to get myself up. I look up with my eyes, and John is standing above me with his hand out. Doubtfully I place my hand in his, he helps me up. Already his face has calmed since he burst in the door, he takes both of my hand in his. He pulls them together closely.

I am afraid to look directly into his eyes, that feeling of knowing this stranger as a long lover was bizarre and wrong. He would stay here until the weather cleared and he would make living quarters down in the workshop. And I would rarely have to see him. All this would clear up, doubt would be cleared, and I could get along with my life. But his strong hands felt so perfect wrapped around my own.

I can’t help it; he draws me in to look at him. Our eyes meet again, I am taken away. I can see an image of a sea-swept land. Grey skies feel claustrophobic above. There are millions of rainbow assorted pebbles along the shore, the tide is up. I cannot see the ocean, although I can hear it. Seagulls swoop along the beach scavenging for odds and ends to eat. There are large pieces of driftwood that were haphazardly swept onto shore. There is a cool wind; you can smell the salty ocean in each breath. I realize there are two arms around me. I turn my head back and see John watching the view with fascination. His eyes are clear and sparkle, and the rest of him is well groomed. His hair whips in the wind. Catching sight of me his smiles, it is so glorious. It is like one thousand suns, just beautiful and perfect.  He pulls away, I sigh a little. Seeing that makes him laugh softly, he turns my around and takes my waist in his hands. The dress I am in whip around violently, it is only sheer white lace yet I am not ashamed.

He runs his hands through the lengths of my hair as they spin wildly through the air. I pull in closer, he chuckles. First he presses his lips against my forehead. Then he takes a finger under my chin so I can meet his eyes. We pull in, and our lips meet. My eyes are closed in the moment. It is just so flawless. His velvet lips are gentle at first, and then I pull in more deep passion. Tenderly we kiss, tingles from my lips run up and down my body. I wrap my arm around his neck, pulling him in even more. Our bodies press together immodestly, they fit together perfect. Like he was chiseled out for me to fit in just so, we pull our hips in together. Blood rushes to the surface of my lips, leaving them hot to the touch. His tongue runs along my bottom lip, I absorb his heavenly pine scent. A small moan rises from my throat. He groans. Our tongues mingle as our kiss intensifies. His hands run up and down my body. My eyes flutter, I wrap a leg around his. He begins to lower me, and I feel sheets not hard pebbles beneath me.

My eyes flash open; we aren’t on the mysterious beach we are laying in my small feather bed. He stops and opens his eyes, he exhales sharply.

“What was that?” I breathe,

He shakes his head, “I found you,” He laughs a little with the greatest joy,

My eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, what did he mean by finding me? I pull myself back a little from him nestling myself in the pillows. I cross my arms.

“Found me? What is that supposed to mean.” I have to keep a cross face even though my heart was fluttering with passion,

He pulls away to get up, “No! Sit down, I mean it.” I hiss,

Promptly he seats himself across from me, my hands in his.

“There are a lot of things about me Belinda that you don’t know, and things you shouldn’t know to be rightly honest.” He hesitates,

What does he mean by that? Is he a con, or is he married?

“Are you a con? Are you married?” I jump onto the pillows holding out my finger accusingly,

He snickers a little, I grit my teeth. Can he take this seriously?

“Aw come on Belinda, do you take me for a con? I wouldn’t break the law! And married? Really?” He holds up his bare hand, “I promise I do not have a wife that I am committing adultery on.” He shakes his head laughing,

Protectively I wrap my arms around my knees, resting my chin on them. “Well you do have some secret that I have the right to know. When we touch, it is hard to describe. It’s not like when I touch other boys…” I blush,

He runs his hand through his hair, I just want to run my hands through it and pull on it.

“Do you know about The Beast of Yeller?” He asks,

I snort, he looks defensively, “My father was the one who saw him last.”

His eyes bulge, and begin to cough. Is he crazy?

“You’re father discovered the beast?”

I roll my eyes, “Yes, I just said that.”

He begins to run his forehead like he has an intense migraine.

“Are you okay?” My fingers reach out and stroke his shoulder,

What? I can’t help myself? All I want to do is touch him, from the moment our lips met.

“Yeah, all I can say is that that is a game changer indefinitely.” He yawns,

“You can tell me tomorrow, I am simply exhausted. I shall go dress into my night clothes. You can eat; there is a bowl of soup there for you. I shall sleep now.” I announce softly, “You may rest in my bed in you wish, it is much warmer.” I stroke his hair,

The Beast of Yeller Woodحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن