She didn’t seem overly reassured, but there was something about him that had prevented her from running. She stayed quietly before him, trembling. She looked like such a slight, delicate thing, as though the tiniest breeze might break her. Still, her hands were hard and worn, and there was purpose behind her eyes.
After a few moments of staring at him, she looked back to the direction of her house, then back to him, “Where did you come from?”
Seeing her open up, if only just a bit, he sat himself down on a stone near where she had done the same earlier, taking a casual stance. With his overcoat open, he wore the thick military grade black leather boots on over his tan pants. “From? Well, I’ll confess lil’ lady,” he said pleasantly, “I ain't no woodland elf. No,” he grinned, “I’m from out east a ways. Grew up on a farm myself, if you’d care ta know.” He exuded a casual charm, an ease of getting along with other people, especially women.
She looked towards the east, expertly knowing which direction, before she returned her gaze to him. Tentatively she took a step forward. He was nearly twice her age, charming, and she didn’t know what to make of him. Or the situation.
“Are you going to hurt us?”
At that remark he looked like he’d been struck a physical blow. “Hurt yous?” He exclaimed, “Now why would I go an’ do a thing like that, lil’ lady?!” Shaking his head he rested his hands on each thigh, “No, certainly not. I ain’t the hurtin’ type! If’n I was, I would be out there in the army right now, hurtin’ folks left, right an’ center, an’ getting paid ta do it too!”
With a sigh and a gentle smile he added softly, “No, miss, I don’t like ta see folks hurt.”
She took another step towards him, her hand reaching out for him as her eyes narrowed. She was curious about him, and not altogether sure he was real. It had been so long since she saw another person outside of her family, and the surge of various emotions was confusing her.
Looking back to her, he felt a twinge of excitement as her delicate-seeming hand extended to him. Carefully he lifted his own, reaching out to take hers in a rather gentlemanly fashion. His hands were large and calloused, but he kept the nails clean and short, and when he lifted her hand gently he bent forward to kiss the back of it, his beard tickling it lightly. “Legault, miss. It’s a pleasure ta meet the acquaintance of such a fair an’ lovely lady. I thought for a moment, you was fallen out of the heavens. Up until ya told me ‘bout yer family an’ farm nearby.”
“A--Amy,” she managed out, her own hand rough in his from all of her farm work. She stared down at their grasp, her pulse quickening and her stomach churning in excitement and terror, looking back towards the farm. “I have to catch the fish or I’ll be in trouble.”
“Of course, Miss Amy,” he said cordially, standing and inviting her to resume her seat next to him. “An’ since I’ve held ya up here fer so long, perhaps I might lend a hand with that. It would break my heart,” he declared with a bit of theatrics, though looking quite sincere all the same, “ta see such a precious young beauty get in trouble on my account.”
She blushed bright at his compliment and took a step away from him, her breathing accelerated again. She obviously wasn’t used to being around someone like him, and it kept throwing her off guard. “I...” she trailed off again, giving him a nod, “Okay,” she accepted, though she kept looking at him as she tried to get back to the fishing.
His own rod was a bit of survivalist-crafted wood strapped to his back, but before he put it into use he smiled over to her, “Here, Miss Amy,” he said charmingly. “Let me show ya a trick on how ta hold the rod,” he leaned over towards her, one hand moving over to hers before he paused, “If’n ya don’t mind, I mean. I don’t want ta presume upon a pretty an’ capable farm girl who surely knows plenty a tricks herself already,” he said, complimenting her readily.
She was practically hyperventilating by the time his palm paused above hers, but she didn’t try to retreat from him. She smelled the woods off his clothes and his skin, and her hands shook nervously. Her mouth gaped open and she forced out another ‘okay’.
Months in the woods might normally leave one a smelly, dishevelled mess, but Legault had kept up his appearances and hygiene. Though he exuded a smell of trees and nature, his own personal musk was not unpleasant or pungent. It was a masculine scent to accompany his equally masculine build, and it was most strong as he carefully put his arms around her and onto her trembling hand, very gently guiding her digits into place on the handle of the rod.
“Now here, Miss Amy,” he explained softly, his voice a soothing low thrum near her ear. “Y’hold it like this, an’ pull back...” he simulated the gesture with her, “nice an’ steady while ya cast.” It took all of his willpower to remain so calm in the situation, for his cheek brushed her red ponytail, and he was near giddy with delight at being so close to an actual person, a real woman, once again.
He wasn’t alone. Her eyes were closed and she had stopped paying attention to him the moment his hand touched hers. She even was so bold as to slightly lean back against him, a tiny utterance pushing past her lips. It was hardly anything, but with him so close, it was quite audible. She shivered with the sensation of his body against hers, and was nearly lost in ecstasy before she forced her eyes back open. Only a second had passed, but for her, it seemed so much longer.
He held her in his arms, and he had no desire to ever let her go. He waited in silence, his rough thumb rubbing over her hand gently in a pleasing manner before he managed to conjure words once more. “Do ya see how? I can show ya again,” he murmured into her ear, though his mind and eyes were on anything but fish, looking over her shoulder across her body.
She was such a fair, thin woman, with a very fetching face. She had wide eyes and a brief speckling of freckles over her cheeks and what little was exposed of her shoulders. Her chest rose and fell quickly. “I...” she muttered, unsure of what to say. She was still a bit fearful of him, but more so she was intrigued.
After so many years of loneliness and isolation from all but her family, she craved him more than she knew how to, and his closeness was driving her wild.
Keeping her in his arms, he gave her hand a gentle petting and tugged her closer. She was the picture of a country beauty, he thought, and after a while her lack of an answer struck him. “Are ya okay, Miss Amy?” he asked with concern. Then, with a twinge of hope, he asked, “Are ya cold?” It was a convenient excuse for why his arms were then about her just a bit more than was necessary to show her how to hold the rod.
She took the bait, nodding her head and causing her ponytail to press against his front as she did. She actually felt quite hot, her cheeks and chest flushed underneath the simple, white top. Still, she wanted him to be around her more than anything else she could ever want, and even though it terrified her, she wanted to give in.
Taking the handle from her, he laid her rod down to the side without releasing his hold on her. “My poor Miss Amy,” he lamented in his smooth yet deep voice, “Here.” His overcoat was thick and large; one size fits all for the army. It was bulky on his frame, for though he was tall and strong, he was neither fat nor bulging with muscles. Pulling his arms out of the sleeves he wrapped the coat around her front, so that all that separated them were their cotton shirts.
Situating her inside his overcoat with him, he rubbed his hands along hers and up along her forearm, trying to warm her. “There,” he said confidently, his cheek touching against her hair, “that a bit better?”
Her little breaths betrayed her excitement at the closeness, and she shifted towards him instinctively. She’d never been romantic with another man, and knew none outside her own home, yet there was something that drove her to want to be close to him. To feel him around her, to have him hold her so tightly. It was exciting her in ways she wasn’t yet aware of, and she nodded to his question.
His own heart was beating heavier. She kindled in him desire like he never knew he could feel. It had been so lon
g without any contact. He should have approached her, the whole situation, with more caution, but he wasn’t thinking clearly, and things were moving so fast. He stirred against her, unable to help himself. He was so distracted that he did not realize that his cock was rising against her backside, immediately growing as hard as fresh cut timber. “The Fall is bringin’ in the chill, Miss Amy. Good thing I was here, or else ya might’ve come down with a cold just to catch some fish in the creek,” he said, his voice lower, a charming husk without his even realizing it.
She felt him stir, and while she had no reasonable idea of comparison, she knew it was something strange and different. Something she wasn’t accustomed to or really aware of. She didn’t know whether to pull away, or press herself closer to him, but she felt a similar tingling in her own loins. His voice, his touch, his embrace were all working its magic on her and she hadn’t even figured out what spell it was.
Her silence didn’t seem to bother him, for he could perhaps sense her reaction, or some measure of it. He kept holding her slender frame in his arms, wrapping his own strong limbs across her stomach beneath her bust as he took a deep inhale of her scent from her red hair. His voice was a low, pleasant rumble in her ear, “This is nice.” He paused, swallowing as he throbbed against her. “I ain’t sat an’ enjoyed the sunshine like this in... ever. Least not with such a beautiful lady.”
“Me neither,” she finally managed, surprised by her own voice. She was feeling so hot, she wanted to thrust off the coat, but she couldn’t bring herself to part from him. A bead of sweat ran from the nape of her neck, down her spine until it soaked into her cotton top.