He says the cats kind of came with the property and they’re all spayed or neutered, a few like Bodach he can touch but the others are wild. His dad even comes by every day to feed them while Lennox is gone. “At the marina where Pop worked, there were always cats hanging around the fishing boats. There’s a local group I support, they get all the cats fixed, get ‘em their shots,” he shrugs.
This man. I can’t take any more.
I pull him to me by the waistband of his jeans, “If you don’t take me inside and fuck my brains out, I am going to explode. Literally explode, Lennox.”
He takes my head in his warm hands and lowers his lips to mine, his tongue sweeping over my bottom lip and then exploring my mouth. I moan and push into him, needing to feel his hardness, his body close to mine, and slide my hands around him. We make out in the middle of the lush grasses, the complete freedom from anyone who might see us makes me want to tear his pants off and go at it right here. I slip my hands under the hem of his shirt and run my hands up his back, needing to feel skin.
“Jesus your hands are cold,” he jerks back chuckling. It’s pretty chilly here, my panties are not the only thing damp, and there’s a decent ocean breeze swirling past us. I’ve been too preoccupied to even notice I’m a little cold. “Come on, I’ll show you one more thing then we’ll go inside and I’ll warm you up.”
Following a worn path in the long green grass, the sounds of the ocean become stronger, waves crashing on the shore. Deep blue water comes into view as we get closer, whitecaps moving their way toward shore, and then we near the steep drop off. “Oh my god,” I gasp. Rocky cliffs fall before us and meet the earth with black basalt stones and sand as far as the eye can see. Far below us, the beach juts out creating natural pools where waves crash then slink back out to sea. Gulls swoop the cliffs, the only witnesses to Lennox and I standing at this point. The rugged beauty and isolation are awe-inspiring and humbling.
“Why do you ever leave this magical place?” I whisper to Lennox, standing beside me with his hands in his pockets, brown locks of hair blowing in the wind, gazing out to the sea. I’m wearing a hoodie and have goosebumps whereas he stands in a thin white tee shirt facing the headwinds completely comfortable. He belongs here, of this place.
“I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he says, still watching the horizon.
“No one?” How can that be? Surely he’s brought women, girlfriends, Kate the Waif, home before.
He shakes his head. “It’s my escape from everyone, everything.”
My stomach falls and I wrap my arms around myself. I feel like a monster, I can’t do this Cooper Media piece, this is his. No one else’s.
“If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here,” he misinterprets me shrinking in on myself. But his words help another worry, anyway. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him as he puts an arm around me and we start back to the house.
“Yeah well, you haven’t seen the inside yet.”
Lennox turns off the security system inside the front door while my eyes dart from one side of the massive space to the next. The old factory building has been gutted and turned into an open floor plan home with dramatic two-story ceilings over much of it, original dark wood beams running parallel to the roof, exposed stone over several walls. It is a stunning space that pairs an industrial loft with a warm, cozy cottage. Or, it will be when it’s finished?
“Needs a lot of work yet,” he says leading me into the kitchen. It’s the size of my New York apartment and the windows overlook the coast letting in rays of natural light, elegant white farmhouse cabinets sit below custom concrete counters and copper fixtures pop against the dark stone. The top cabinets are not installed but are still in their boxes piled up against the far wall. Wires for the lighting dangle down and switches in the wall are exposed waiting for the drywall to be finished.
The living room next to the kitchen is an enormous open space with a stone fireplace larger than most cars, its chimney rising all the way to the roof far above us. More windows line the walls and overlook a meadow and a big brick patio space. In the middle of the room is a single grey couch, wood coffee table, and the biggest television I’ve ever seen, sitting on the floor.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask. Calling this a bachelor’s house would be a gross understatement. Even unfinished, it is magazine worthy in design, but it’s… empty. It echoes when we walk on the stained concrete floors. There isn’t a single photo, throw pillow, or personal item anywhere.
“A couple of years, I guess,” Lennox shrugs.
I stay silent as we mill about. I want to ask him why he hasn’t had it finished yet, but I don’t want to be rude or have him think I don’t like it. It’s not like he doesn’t have the money, a good construction crew could finish everything in a week. It’s gorgeous and I’m grateful to be here with him, I wouldn’t care if he lived in a tent. I’m also dying of curiosity but keep it tamped down so I don’t overstep any boundaries.
He reads my mind or body language and continues, “I haven’t really had the time to finish it. Pop and I plug away at it here and there.”
“You are doing the work?”
“The major stuff I had done, gutting it, framing it out, the windows and roof and whatnot. But I wanted to do the rest myself. I just never get around to it. It was still an old factory inside when I bought it, but it had good bones and character. And I wanted a change.”
“I had no idea you were so handy.”
“My tool work is second to none,” he winks at me, then strides to me and wraps his arms around me from behind.
I lean back into him. “Thank you for bringing me here.” His lips drop to my neck and I roll my head to give him access. He takes my earlobe between his teeth and plants soft nibbles down my neck and collarbone, pulling the collar of my hoodie as much as it will give until he growls and tears it off over my head.
I reach my arms behind me trying to touch him but I’m trapped inside his strong arms holding me tight against him as he bites and licks and sucks on the sensitive skin of my neck. I wiggle my as
s back into the hardness I feel growing at my lower back. One of his hands moves under my bra and cups a breast.
I moan and arch my back as his thumb works my nipple into a hardened peak and he flattens his other palm across my abdomen then slowly drags it lower and into the front of my jeans. Dipping his long fingers into the front of my panties and into my slick folds, he growls into my ear, “Mmm, who are you so wet for, love?”
“You,” I hiss and pull one arm free to bring up behind me and loop around his neck. My nails dig into his neck as he strokes his fingers up and down over my crease and then dip inside of me. “Oh god, I need you.” His fingers slide in and out of me, his thumb working my clit.