Page 47 of Heart Strings
A low stone wall lines one side of the narrow road, the other side is a steep, wildflower-studded hill. Where did the sheep even come from? I don’t see anyone here. “Usually there’s a farmer or something around, right?”
Aidan tilts his chin. “A shepherd?”
“Whatever, Mr. Sheep Whisperer. I’m just saying, don’t they have dogs for this?”
“Maybe they’ll listen if we say ‘woof.’ ”
This is getting ridiculous. Enough is enough. Throwing my arms up, I run at the herd one last time. “Get outta here, you woolly little shits!”
It’s working. The sheep begin to part—but only because an angry ram is making his way through the herd. His low bellow sends my heart rate spiking. Out of instinct, I step back. “Uh, nice sheep…”
With a snort, he charges toward me. Aidan dashes in front of me with his arms held out protectively.
“Aidan!”
“Go,” he shouts, running toward the cars.
I hop into my car and he follows on the passenger’s side, slamming the door shut.
The ram circles the vehicle, feinting a couple times before he waits next to the door.
“Why do all the animals hate you?” I demand.
“That ram was clearly after you!”
Aidan had protected me without a second thought. Again. Outside the window, the ram continues to huff with indignation.
“Aren’t they supposed to be docile?” I ask.
“To be fair, you called them ‘woolly little shits’ first.” Aidan lifts himself off the seat and recovers the bag of Skittles he sat on. “Sorry. Surprised you didn’t finish those off last night.”
I grab the bag and lift a red one to my mouth, but don’t place it on my tongue.
“Nah. I took care of stress another way.”
Right now, we’re both panting a little from exertion and I can’t deny that it gives me…thoughts.
“Is that right?” he asks, far too nonchalantly.
The chilly press of his lips against mine in the creek echoes in my mind. The way he stared into my eyes as I rode him. The sweet release of my climax.
“Mmm-hmmm.” I toss the candy into my mouth and the shell gives under my molars with a satisfying crunch. “I have plenty of self-discipline.”
Propping his arm on the dash, he stares at me. “Meanwhile, I’m already on my last shred of it.”
I dip my fingers back into the bag, extract a couple colorful pieces, and hold them close to Aidan’s lips. Without breaking eye contact, he opens slowly. I carefully place the candies on his tongue, feeling the heat of his breath fan across my knuckles.
Maybe it would be smart to keep last night a one-off event, but he’s too tempting.
Aidan follows my finger as I pull it away, nipping playfully. I laugh and jerk my hand back, but he’s already captured my wrist. He sucks at my pulse, his mouth warm against the sensitive skin. Channeling his internal Gomez Addams, he kisses a trail up my inner forearm as I squeal and pretend to fight it. It feels so good to laugh and lean into Aidan’s natural silliness, especially when I’m stressed.
“Still taste good,” he murmurs against my forearm. “Still ticklish.”
“Don’t you dare. I’ll flail around until I accidentally break your nose!” I warn through a grin. “And I’d hate to give the best man a shiner hours before the ceremony. Lark really would kill me.”
“Not if I eat you alive first.” He tugs me closer. When I look into his eyes, I can tell it’s more than a saucy little threat. It’s a promise.
Outside the car, the sheep gently bleat and shuffle around. No shepherd in sight.
