Coaxing the Roughneck

He’s off the rig.

He left the rig?

For me?

Butch has reached the sidewalk in front of the house where I’m working. He sees me and pounds his chest, once, twice, the feral gleam in his eyes taking on even more dimension. Every step he takes in my direction, my womanhood throbs all the more violently. Until I’m crawling toward him on my hands and knees through the dirt, my sides heaving, moisture coating my cheeks.

“Please, please, please,” I whimper, begging him to understand what I’m asking for when I can’t articulate it fully. Or at all. I just need his skin on mine, need to feel the pound of his heart. Feel his breath on my neck. My face. Need to be dominated and pinned and taken. Need to be with him any way I can. “I missed you,” I cry out. “I missed you. Please.”

A hint of the madness in his eyes fades, his step slowing, chest heaving. “You left me.”

I throw myself down onto his feet, wrapping my arms around his ankles. Scooting my body in as close as it will go. “I tried to do the right thing.”

“Being away from each other is not the right thing, Cindy,” he rasps brokenly. “It’s so goddamn wrong. I thought I died inside in that prisoner camp. But I was wrong. I died when you flew away. I’m dead right now.”

“No, No, you’re not. Don’t say that,” I whisper. “How did you find me?”

“I found the lawyer’s business card in the upstairs office. A few threats and he arranged a helo for me. He gave me your address and I went there, found your appointment book. Knew I’d find you here. But with nothing to go on, Cindy, I would have tracked you down. I’d have found you no matter what and I always will. Understand that.” When I look up the length of his body, his teeth go back to being clenched and I’m wrenched off the ground by my armpits, thrown over his broad shoulder. “Christ. You’re horny out of your mind,” he growls. “Where can we fuck?”

Thank God. My nerve endings start to snap, my body sensing it’s on the verge of being rescued from purgatory. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where I am.” I rub my mouth on his bare back, my hands running over his muscle, desperate for the rough texture of him. “I can’t think of anything but you. I can’t. I can’t.”

He walks us into a deep doorway that brings us partially out of view of the street. Then he drags me off his shoulder and without my feet touching the ground once, he pins me against the wall, yanking my legs up around his hips and roaring into my neck. “You can’t think of anything but me, little girl? Good. Good.” He takes the sides of my jean shorts in his hands and tears them clean off my body. My panties go next, dropping to the ground in tatters. “Because there isn’t a corner of this earth I won’t chase you down if you run from me again. You understand me? If you hold a fraction of this obsession I have for you, then imagine it multiplying endlessly. That might give you an idea of where I’m at, baby. Don’t you ever—ever—run from me again.” He drops his face into my neck and bellows hoarsely. “Please.”

My instinct is to scream that I won’t leave, not ever again. I did leave the rig for a reason, though, didn’t I? “But…you’re okay? Out in the world? I didn’t want to take your home away from you. I couldn’t steal the place you feel safe. I love you.”

“You’re the place I feel safe,” he breathes into my ear. “I need to be the place you feel safe, too, Cindy. Let me stay. Let me love you. Because Jesus, I love you so fucking much. Your note…” He digs it out of his pocket and slaps it against the wall. “‘Keep the rig. Keep my heart. Love, Cindy.’ Were you trying to destroy me?”

“No. No.”

Pressing his forehead to mine, he reaches down between us and unzips his pants, bringing his erection to my folds and dragging it up and back through the dampness, drawing a choked moan from my mouth. “You were sacrificing what you want for me. What you need. For me. Did you think I’d let you do that?” He grinds his bared teeth against my cheek. “You could be pregnant with our child. No. You are. We both know this big dick didn’t do it any other way. You were open for me, that tight pussy begging for my sperm. And then you run? NO.” In one long thrust, he’s seated inside of me and the orgasm I’ve been courting screams through my muscles and tissue and bloodstream, turning me into a shaking mess who is only capable of gibberish. “Did you think I would rather live in the darkness alone than in the light with a fucking angel?” He looks me in the eye, driving in and out of me in a slow grind. “I have monsters in my head, Cindy. I’ve got problems. But my number one problem is losing you ever again. Everything else is a distant second place.”