Chapter 4

T he wind howls outside, breaking the quiet morning. Amidst the chaos, a rhythmic thwack cuts through, echoing steadily. I reach for Gideon but find only cool, empty sheets. His absence leaves a chill in the air.

I sit up, my body deliciously sore. The memory of Gideon’s intense gaze, the way he held me and ravished me, comes flooding back. Shaking those thoughts away, I take a deep breath to calm the desire simmering within me. My injured foot feels tender but manageable to walk.

I pull on the charcoal sweatshirt, inhaling his woodsy and masculine. My pulse quickens, but doubts creep in. What if he regrets everything that happened last night?

Hiding won’t help, I decide. If he regrets it, I’ll thank him and leave, though I feel safer here than anywhere else. But who am I kidding? It’s Gideon. His arms already feel like home.

With a blanket wrapped around me, I step into the cozy living room and glance at the myriad of wilderness photos on the wall.

The cabin feels different now—more lived-in, more his. A wave of sadness washes over me. I’d always dreamed of retiring here, surrounded by childhood memories. When I leave, I’ll lose a part of myself, but knowing it’s in Gideon’s hands brings comfort.

Wiping a tear from the corner of my eye, I head towards the source of the persistent thwacking sound—the garage. The noise grows louder as I approach, and when I open the door, the sight before me takes my breath away. Gideon stands there in a black, full-sleeved V-neck t-shirt and pants, chopping wood with powerful, precise swings.

The soft fabric of his clothes cling to his body, accentuating the defined muscles of his arms and chest. The cool wind flows through the slightly ajar garage door, carrying with it the scent of pine and sawdust. Despite the chill in the air, Gideon is sweating, a sheen of moisture glistening on his forehead. The drops catch the dim light and make his skin glow.

I watch him, mesmerized by the hypnotic display of strength and grace. His muscles ripple with each swing, a symphony of power and attention. Each crack of the ax against the wood sends a shiver down my spine, resonating deep in my core.

As I stand there, a flush of heat rises within me, spreading from my cheeks to my neck and down to my chest. I can feel my pulse race, my breath coming a little faster. There’s something raw and primal about watching Gideon work. His presence fills the space, commanding attention, and I feel helplessly drawn to him.

“Careful there, you might start drooling,” Gideon says, sensing my presence. He turns to face me with a smug smile. He sets the ax down, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and slightly husky from exertion. It sends a thrill through me, a tingling sensation that settles low in my belly. I try to respond but my voice catches in my throat. I clear it again, hoping he doesn’t notice my flustered state.

“Hi,” I croak out. My heart races as he closes the distance between us.

“Did you need something?” he asks. His tone is light but there is an undercurrent of something else.

I struggle to find the right words, my mind a jumble of thoughts and emotions. “I just… heard the noise.”

“Power went out in the middle of the night,” he explains, his eyes never leaving mine. We’ll need more kindling for the fire.”

The world outside the garage fades away, leaving just the two of us in this quiet, intimate space. The close proximity makes my breath hitch, and I struggle to keep my thoughts from spiraling. Those eyes—deeply emerald and intense—seem to see right through me, piercing my very soul. For a moment, I forget to breathe, caught in the magnetism of his gaze.

Gideon breaks the spell and asks, “So, Ariel, have you chopped wood before?”

I laugh, nostalgia warm in my voice. “No, never. Grandpa wouldn’t even let me near an ax. He’d watch me like a hawk every time I came in the garage, just to stop me from trying to steal it.”

An idea seems to light up his face. He shrugs the blanket off my shoulders, his fingers brushing against my pulse. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asks, “How about I show you how to do it?”

My face splits into a big smile and I nod in glee. I feel excited to live my silly childhood dream at last, but truthfully, my heart skips a beat at the prospect of being close to him.

I take his hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Gideon leads me to the chopping block set in the middle of the room, his hand lingering on mine a moment longer than necessary. He picks up the ax and hands it to me.

He steps behind me, his body pressing close to me, and places his hands over mine on the wooden handle. The warmth of his body seeps into me, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against my shoulder. His breath is heated on my neck, breaking out in goosebumps on my skin.

“First things first, you need to have a good grip on the wood,” he says in his smoky voice. “Firm but not too tight.”

I can’t help but wonder if we’re still talking about the ax. His chest presses even closer to my back, the heat between us almost unbearable.

“Now, feel the motion,” he murmurs, dipping his head until his nose brushes my hair. Desire ignites in my veins, my knees turning to jelly. His arms tighten around me, and his tongue grazes the outer shell of my ear, sending a shiver through me. A soft gasp slips out before I can stop it.

Guiding my hands, he lifts the ax with me, his movements fluid and deliberate. I can feel every flex of his muscles, every inch of him against me. Together, we bring the ax down in a clean, powerful swing, the wood splitting with a sharp crack.

“Just like that,” he whispers, his breath hot and his lips hovering near my ear.

With each swing, the air practically crackles with the rising tension between us. I feel it in the way his breath catches when I move my ass against him, in the quickening pace of his heartbeat. It’s a powerful, undeniable pull.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of praise when his name falls slips through my lips. He rewards me a thrust against my ass and all thoughts fly out of my mind.

Desperate to touch Gideon, I turn too quickly, and a sharp pain shoots through my injured foot. The sudden agony radiates through my leg as I stumble. Gideon’s strong arms wrap around me, dropping the ax. His eyes search mine, worry etched in every line of his face.

“Ariel, are you okay?”

“I put too much pressure on it. I’m fine,” I grit out, as I try to breathe through the pain.

His brow furrows, clearly unconvinced. “You need to rest that foot,” he glances down at my bandaged ankle. “Let’s get you inside. I need to change your dressing.”

Before I can protest, Gideon scoops me up effortlessly, cradling me against his chest. My hand rests over his heart, feeling its rapid, steady beat.

“I can walk, Gideon,” I try to argue, but my arms instinctively wrap around him.

“And deny me this pleasure?” He arches an eyebrow, a devilish grin curling his lips. He carries me inside and sets me down on the sofa’s plush cushions, then gently tucks a thick blanket around me.

Without a word, he moves to the fireplace, arranging kindling and logs with practiced ease. The fire catches quickly, the flames crackling and dancing, chasing away the cold that lingers in the room. Satisfied, Gideon turns back to me, his voice soft. “I’ll grab the medical kit.”

He returns quickly with the kit in hand. Sitting beside me on the sofa, he lifts my leg and places it on his lap. His grip is careful and considerate as he unwraps the old dressing from my foot.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says softly, glancing up at me with concern.

The dressing comes off with ease, and Gideon studies the wound intently. His brow furrows in concentration. “It’s healing well,” he notes, cleaning the area with delicate precision. The antiseptic stings, and I flinch, but his touch remains calm, steady. He wraps a fresh bandage around my foot.

“All done.” He gives me a teasing smile. “Just be careful next time. I won’t always be around to catch you when you fall.”

His words hit me harder than I expect. The thought of him not being here knots something inside me. I force a smile, masking the sudden ache in my chest.

Gideon traces gentle circles over the bandage, his gaze fixed on me. “Ariel, last night… you were thrashing in your sleep. I’m relieved you didn’t reopen your wound.”

The fog of my nightmare floods back, that suffocating fear tightening in my chest again. I nod, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking away.

He shakes his head, his voice firm but soft. “You don’t need to apologize. I was worried.” His eyes search mine, steady and concerned. “It’s clear to me whatever you’re going through is taking a toll on you. I wish you’d let me in.”

The words knot in my throat. I take a deep breath, the weight of my secrets pressing down on my chest. “I don’t know where to begin,” I tell him honestly.

Gideon nods, his attention unwavering. He urges softly, “Why don’t you start with the nightmare, if you still remember it?”

The memory clings to me like a shadow, its cold grip tightening as I clutch the blanket in my fists. “It’s hard to forget,” I murmur. His hand remains on my foot, offering silent support.

I swallow the lump in my throat, my hands trembling. “In the nightmare, someone was chasing me. I kept running, thinking I could get away, but he caught me.”

Gideon shifts closer, threading his fingers through mine, his warmth easing the chill in my bones. “Who was after you?” he asks gently.

I close my eyes, the words catching in my throat. When I meet his gaze, I push out the words, “My stalker.”

His grip tightens on my hand, his eyes darkening with concern. “Go on,” he breathes, his voice laced with anger.

I swallow, my voice shaky as the words claw their way out. “It started with roses on my windshield.” The memory flashes behind my eyes—the sweet, cloying scent of the petals that had seemed innocent.

“Then the calls,” I continue, my pulse quickening. “Every day, multiple times. No one spoke. Just… breathing.” My chest tightens as if I can still hear the incessant ring.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, but when I open my mouth, the words don’t come. Looking around, I ask hesitantly, “Could you hand me my bag?”

Gideon tilts his head, confused, but he doesn’t question it. He retrieves the lavender bag and hands it to me silently. My fingers fumble inside, finding the smooth paper, and I pull out the thick envelope, anxiety prickling under my skin.

“Two days ago, I found this on my doorstep,” my voice wavers as I hand it to him. My heart races, thudding in my ears.

He takes it, sliding out a stack of photographs and a note. His jaw tightens immediately, anger sparking in his eyes. He flips through the pictures, his grip growing white-knuckled. The glossy surfaces crumple under the force of his fingers, but he says nothing, his rage palpable.

I pluck the last photo from his hand, my stomach twisting in dread. “I know he followed me everywhere, but this picture scared me the most.”

It’s a picture of my bedroom, bathed in the soft light of my night lamp, and there’s me sleeping on the bed. The tangled blanket around my legs does nothing to hide my tank-top and panty-clad body. My hair is disheveled and my lips slightly open. The thought of him watching me in such a vulnerable state sends a wave of cold terror through me.

Gideon takes the photo from my frozen fingers and his eyes narrow in unrestrained anger as he studies it. “Fucking bastard,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Do you know who it is?” he asks, his voice tight.

I shake my head, misery wrapping itself around my chest. The haunting image of that shadowy figure framed in the doorway is burned into my mind.

“His face was hidden under a hoodie,” I murmur, helplessness threading through my words. The warmth of the room feels suffocating now.

“He was in my home, Gideon,” my voice trembles, fear cracking it. “I didn’t even know. I’ll never feel safe there again. I’ll always be looking over my shoulder, searching the corners of my bedroom.”

Tears blur my vision, and I swipe them away in frustration. “This cabin was supposed to be my sanctuary. I didn’t think beyond escaping here. And now my mom’s sold it—without even giving me a chance to say goodbye.”

Gideon watches me, his face soft with empathy. “You’re safe here, Ariel,” he says, his deep voice reverberating through me.

But the fear is too close, too sharp. Every creak of the cabin, every gust of wind outside, makes me flinch. The bitter taste of dread won’t leave my mouth.

“I don’t feel safe anywhere. I don’t know what to do,” I confess in a whisper. The crackle of the fire, the scent of pine and smoke, and the warmth of Gideon’s hand—all of it feels distant, overshadowed by the memory of my stalker, and the knowledge that he’s still out there.

Gideon gently strokes his thumb on my knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “I know what that feels like,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a weight of understanding.

I glance up, surprised. “You do?”

He nods, his gaze distant, eyes clouded with old memories. “I served in the army, as a ranger,” he says quietly. He shifts, like the memories physically ache.

“We were on a recon mission, in a remote area. Careful, but not careful enough,” he says, his voice heavy. “Someone compromised our position.” His words falter, and I can feel the anguish as his jaw tightens. “Extremists found us. We fought back, but... they set off explosives.”

I can see the pain glimmering in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches as he relives the moments. “My team... my friends... they got hurt. So did I.”

I gently hold his hand between mine. “What happened?”

Gideon looks down at our intertwined fingers. “I took a bullet to the back,” he says, closing his eyes as if feeling the pain all over again. “Shrapnel tore through my leg.”

He pulls up his pant leg, revealing a jagged scar that snakes from his thigh to his calf. It’s ugly and raw, a permanent reminder of what he endured. The sight twists something deep inside me. I move closer, squeezing his hand.

“They sent me back to Philly,” he says, voice rough. “But being home didn’t stop it. The nightmares, the flashbacks—they followed me. Every loud noise, every shadow… it was like I was still there. My home felt like a war zone. I was always on edge.”

His story hits me hard. I can feel the weight of it, the scars he carries. “I’m so sorry, Gideon,” I whisper, my voice tight with emotion. “How did you cope?”

He looks at me, something like gratitude softening his eyes. “Liam Gallagher—my old sarge—he’s sheriff now. He saved my life that night. When he moved here, some of us from the team followed him.”

He glances out the window, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Living here helps. It’s quiet, slower. But it’s not just the place. It’s the people. Liam’s been a rock for all of us. Derek’s a counselor now, and Callum’s a medic. We went through hell together, and now we’re healing together.”

He takes a deep breath. “I still struggle with PTSD, but having people who understand makes a difference.”

I squeeze his hand, my heart swelling with empathy and admiration. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Gideon. It means more than you know.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I just want you to know, Ariel... you’re not alone. Leaning on friends who care helps more than you think. I am here for you, Ariel. You can lean on me.” His words soothe the raw edges of my fear, like a balm to my aching heart.

“So, are we friends?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

His gaze holds mine, steady and intense. “We can be anything you want us to be,” he tells me, the meaning clear in his eyes.

Gideon breaks eye contact, and I can finally breathe again. His gaze falls on the scattered photographs, his jaw tightening. “We need to talk to the police.”

“I already did,” I say, frustration lacing my words. “They told me roses and blank calls weren’t enough to go on. I don’t think they even believed me.”

The memory of the officer’s dismissive look makes my skin crawl. I had never felt more powerless.

Gideon kneels in front of me, his hands firm on my shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Ariel. Once we get a signal, I’ll call Liam. We’ve got real evidence now.”

I nod, trying to take comfort in his words, but my eyes are glued to the pictures beside me.

“What if he followed me here?” The thought clutches at my chest, and a shiver runs down my spine.

“Hey, look at me,” he softly commands, brushing away a stray tear on my chin. “No one will touch or harm you around me, I promise you.”

My breath quickens, panic tightening its grip on my throat. “I don’t even know what he looks like. How do I fight something I can’t see?”

Gideon pulls me flush against him, and his hands cradle my face firmly. The heat of his palm seeps into my skin. His rough thumbs brush against the curve of my jaw in a way that grounds me.

His voice shimmers with harsh fury as he says, “If he dares to come after you, I will hunt him down like an animal. No one will harm you, not while I’m breathing.”

I can feel the raw power radiating off him, a lethal promise etched in every word. It should frighten me how quickly he shifts from calm to wrathful, but it doesn’t. His hands are my anchor, pulling me from the suffocating depths of fear.

His emerald eyes burn with a wild fire. His grip tightens slightly as his hand moves to the back of my neck, fingers threading possessively through my hair. He tilts my head, his voice a low growl, “I’ll tear him apart, limb from limb, if he tries to cause you pain. I’ll protect you with my life, Ariel.”

Gideon is inches away from mine, breath warm and steady against my skin. My heartbeat thunders, rapid and shallow, drowning out all other thoughts. His gaze holds a dangerous edge, igniting a fire low in my belly.

The next moment, his lips crash against mine with an urgent fervor. The kiss is electric, a jolt of heat that pushes away my panic and fear. His lips move roughly against mine, making me whimper. His fingers graze my scalp, gripping my hair tighter. I press my palm against his wiry beard, pulling him closer. His tongue sweeps over mine, minty and intoxicating, flooding my senses.

His palm wraps around my throat, squeezing it gently, and I gasp against his lips, the sound swallowed by the kiss. I can’t help but arch against him when his fingers dig into my waist. I feel his tongue exploring and teasing and I meet him stroke for stroke. The feel of his hand and the taste of his lips consume me.

I wrap my hands around his shoulders, digging my nails in, trying to anchor myself. The heat of his body chases away the lingering chill. His hard chest presses against my breasts, rubbing my poking nipples and making me shiver in delight.

Gideon breaks the kiss before I can protest and trails a line of wet and open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down to my neck. I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips when he bites on the supple skin on my shoulder, and Gideon groans in approval.

Through the heady fog of desire, Gideon’s burning gaze meets mine and I see the white-hot desire blazing within them. His hands slowly move to the hem of my sweater, his fingers grazing the curve of my waist and breasts as he peels away the fabric. The sensation is almost torturous as he bares me to his hungry gaze. His eyes roam my body, taking in every curve, every inch of bare skin, making me feel both vulnerable and powerful.

Gideon trails his touch down my arms, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. His eyes focus on my neck and he growls with a smirk, “Seeing my mark on your body makes me want to throw you on the floor and bury myself deep inside you.” His tongue flicks out to lick the dark hickey and then he closes his lips on it, sucking hard. I tilt my head back, lips parting in a shaky breath.

His hands move to the front clasp of my bra, his fingers deftly undoing it. “I love your gorgeous, gorgeous breasts.” With that, he cups my breasts gently, making me arch into his touch. He places a kiss on one nipple, then the other, his tongue darting out to tease and taste.

“I love playing with them, and I love how you respond when I do this,” his thumb and forefinger pinches my nipple, rubbing it against his rough skin. I let out a throaty moan, my fingers curling into his hair.

His calloused hands squeeze my breasts hard as he pulls one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak. “Oh, God, yes,” I moan, gripping his bulging forearm, the sensation overwhelming me.

When he grazes his teeth on the hard nub and bites on it gently, pleasure shoots through me like lightening. His other hand continues to squeeze and knead my other breast. I cry out his name and my fingers grip his hair, as he pulls my nipple with his teeth.

Gideon roughly grips my thighs, spreading them wide and stepping in between them. His eyes, dark with raw, primal need, lock onto mine as he lowers himself between my legs. I tremble under his touch as his fingers lightly graze from the valley between my breasts, down to my belly.

He presses kisses inside of my thighs, slowly rising higher. The cool air in the room contrasts sharply with his hot breath ghosting over my skin. When he reaches my throbbing cunt, he murmurs, his husky voice dripping with lust. “Look at your cunt, Ariel. I love how needy you are for me.”

His muscular hands spread my legs wider and his stubble rubs on my skin as he blows air on my heated core. I quake under his wandering hands. Every nerve in my body responds to his touch. I can’t help but arch, pushing my hips against him.

Gideon chuckles softy, “Impatient, aren’t we? It’s not just you. I need to taste you so bad that I am losing my mind.”

Before I can respond, beg him to touch me, his tongue flicks out, just barely grazing my clit. My hands clutch at his shoulders as I gasp his name. They instinctively tug at his hair, urging him closer. With the tip of his tongue, he traces the wet folds of my quivering pussy.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby,” saying that, he grips my thighs and pulls them over his shoulders, wrapping them around his back. I nearly jump out of my skin when his mouth descends on me and his lips suck my clit into his mouth.

“Oh, God, Gideon! What are you doing to me?” I moan, throwing my head back against the headrest, the words tumbling from my lips unbidden.

His response is a low growl, “I am fucking your sweet cunt with my tongue and I won’t stop until I make you scream my name so loud it will echo off the mountains.”

Gideon alternates between licking and sucking, his chin rubbing on my wet folds. His tongue dances over my clit, before dipping lower and teasing my pussy hole. Each movement is deliberate, meant to drive me insane. My pussy constricts with emptiness, cramping hard. His hands clasp around my thighs, caging his face between my legs as he torments my heated pussy.

His thumb joins the fray, rubbing my soft swollen nub. The friction of his rough skin against my slick folds makes me pant and I pull his face closer against my pussy. I can feel myself getting closer, the tension rising with each flick of his tongue, each caress on his thumb. Gideon senses it too and picks up the pace.

He pulls my hips up in the air as he fucks my cunt with his tongue like a thirsty madman. My body tenses, and I come apart on his tongue. I scream his name, convulsing under his mouth. The room fills with the sound of my ragged breaths and his satisfied groan. He doesn’t stop, prolonging my orgasm, drawing it out until I am utterly spent.

He places my ass gently on my sofa as he trails soft kisses up my belly. His hands cup my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks and he pulls my lips in a blinding fervent kiss. I am still breathless, but when I taste my salty warmth on his lips, I kiss back with renewed fervor.

Pulling back, he whispers against my lips, “I want you to remember how you came on my tongue. I want you to remember your taste on my lips.”

With that, he captures my lips in another bruising kiss and pulls me onto his lap in one decisive motion. I fall on him, straddling him. I feel his hard cock wedge between my swollen folds and his heat scalds me.

His voice a rough, guttural rasp, Gideon says, “I need to be inside you right now.”

“I need all of you, Gideon,” my voice trembles with a mix of need and urgency.

He understands what I mean, his strong and possessive hands tighten on my hips. “Are you sure?” he asks, his eyes searching mine for any hint of hesitation. “I’m clean.”

“So am I,” I tell him, and grind on his throbbing cock. He chokes on air, and with his fingers digging into my flesh, he lifts me up and places his cock against my hole. A loud moan escapes my lips and my thighs quiver as he begins to lower me on his rigid cock.

“Oh, fuck, yes!” I gasp, my nails creating dark half-moons on his body. A stinging mix of pleasure and pain courses runs through my veins as his thick and heavy cock stretches me. I throw my head back and whimper, my long curls tickling my ass, as Gideon begins to thrust up into me.

Gideon’s eyes turn dark, almost feral as he wraps his palm around my throat, pulling me closer to him. He commands, his voice wild with lust, “Ride my cock, Ariel. I am dying to feel your thirsty cunt come around me.”

I begin to jump on him, my need driving me to lift myself and lower back down onto his hard and strained cock. He meets me thrust for thrust, fucking my cunt deeply over and over. The sopping sound of his cock in my cunt makes me bite my lip to reign in the tumbling moans. It becomes a losing battle however, when his hands move to my breasts, pinching and rolling my nipples. I clench down on his cock and his breath hitches, pulling harder on my nipples.

“I’m so close, Gideon. Please don’t stop,” I half-beg, half-scream at him, my body trembling under the intensity.

“Fuck Ariel, I can’t stop fucking you any more than I can stop breathing,” Gideon wraps his arms around my waist, halting my movements and pinning me in his cage. I see stars as he begins to pound fiercely in my weeping cunt. His thrusts become erratic, the head of his cock hammering on the sensitive spot inside me, and he drives his cock into me with a relentless force.

He fists my hair and pulls hard on it, baring my throat to his lips. I whine at the sharp pain but my pussy walls clamp hard on his cock when he bites on the juncture of my neck. “Come for me, Ariel. Let me feel you come on my cock, baby.”

His words are my undoing. I feel myself spiral out of control and the orgasm explodes in my veins like fireworks. Gideon follows me over the edge with hard thrusts, his grip on me bruising, as he fills my cunt with his cum. Once he has emptied himself deep into me, he gently pulls himself out.

I collapse onto Gideon, feeling limbless. His chest rumbles in laughter as he holds me close, and wrapping my legs around his waist, carries me to the bedroom. He settles me down on the soft sheets and pulls my back against his chest, nestling me in his arms.

“Have I told you how incredible you are?” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on my temple.

My eyelids feel like they’ve turned to stone, and a yawn muffles my reply. “Ditto.”

I hear his soft laugh against my ear as he cuddles us under the thick and furry blanket. “I bet you’re going to hog all the blanket again tonight,” he teases.

My eyes close, teetering on the edge of sleep, I pull the blanket tighter around me to prove him right. I smile, “Don’t worry, soon it will be just you and your blankets again.”

Just as I nearly drift off, I feel a lingering kiss on my forehead. I barely hear him whisper, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”