Page 18 of Should I Fall
Chapter Nine
Stormi
“Have you seen my sister?” I ask Winnie after my many failed attempts to get Erin to answer her lodge room door. After the way I left things with Dash this morning, so unfinished, I need to talk to her. Watching him stand at the edge of the trail to the landing pad, arms folded and Blaze at his side, as I flew away felt wrong in more ways than it could ever feel right.
Erin will know what to do. Shealwaysknows what to do.
I know she told us she didn’t want to be bothered until tomorrow morning, but I was really hoping she’d make an exception for her sister. What I didn’t expect was for her to be gone. Because her door should’ve flown open when I announced I quit my job.
“She’s out, actually,” Winnie says, a chipper smile on her face.
“Really? Where did she?—”
“You don’t need to follow me,” a woman calls to a man behind her, yanking a backpack out of his hands at the slidingentrance doors. My cousin Gabby looks a little haggard, but also a little…glowy. What is that about?
“You okay?” I ask her when she stomps past the front desk. I catch a glimpse of the man turning away at the sliding doors and do a double take. “Is that…Tucker?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Gabby and I grew up in the same small town, just two blocks from one another. Because of the age difference, we’ve never been close. But she’s also been supportive of me being whoever the hell I wanted to be—her words. She and Tucker have a complicated history. But until this moment, I had no idea he was in Cinnamon Creek.
“Did you sleep outside or something?” I ask, noticing her shirt is ripped at the collar, and there’s a twig in her messy ponytail.
“Idon’twant to talk about it.”
“Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
“It’s only wounded prided. And before you ask, no I didnotbury any bodies.” She glances back at the sliding doors, her eyes narrowing. “Even though I certainly thought about it.”
“Gabby—”
“What’s the glow about?” Her question is all curious accusation with a sprinkle of redirection. “Where wereyoulast night?”
A blush instantly heats my cheeks, giving me away as it always does. Sometimes I really hate wearing my emotions out in the open like this. I reach into my pocket for the amethyst and squeeze it, wondering if Dash found the sunstone I left on his pillow. The one meant to bring him joy. Will he even know it’s from me or will he toss it over the side of the balcony not realizing it’s a gift?
“Stormi Winters, did you get laid?”
“No,” I quickly fire back, well aware that Winnie, despite busying herself with the brochure wall, is within earshot. I lower my voice. “Notexactly.” Though I had the orgasm of a lifetime last night—one I’ll never be able to replicate no matter how much I try—I am a little remiss that there was no penetration.
But when Dash stood at the edge of the bed and dropped those pesky sweatpants this morning, I couldn’t stop staring at his cock. And suddenly, Ihadto suck it. As though his penis cast a spell on me, and I was compelled to take him into my mouth.
Never in my life have I enjoyed doing that to a man.
But with Dash, it was addicting. Ilovedit. I loved watching him watch me. I loved making him make those groans of approval. I loved him calling me baby girl. I especially loved tasting him in the back of my throat.
“Maybe you need to finish what you started,” Gabby says, patting me on the shoulder. “I’m going to go take a shower and wash the forest out of my hair.”
I pull the twig free from her tangled ponytail—the look hints of freshly fucked, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary—and hand it over.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, a glimpse of a smile forming as she stares at the tiny evergreen branch.
“Did you enjoy your time at the fire watch tower?” Winnie asks when we’re alone again.
“Yeah, I did. Well, except for that part about Brutus.”
“I keep telling Dash if he’d just leave a cupcake as offering, Brutus wouldn’t bother him. But he doesn’t seem to believe me.”
I recall Dash yelling at Brutus about cupcakes and shake my head, trying desperately to ignore the pang of sadness that hits me square in the chest. “He’s sure protective over those cupcakes.”
