Claire: The Forced Virgin Of The Billionaire
Chapter 96

I shook my head in frustration at these one word answers I’d been getting and tossed one of each in the cart and then stormed off to the vegetable section and left him behind.

When we got back to the jeep and loaded the bags into the trunk I said, “Listen, you’re obviously not in the mood for this so if you’d rather just go back to the city, why don’t we just do that?”

He didn’t answer me. He got into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition. I got into the passenger seat and folded my arms across my chest. He leaned over and blazed a dirty look at me and fastened my seatbelt for me.

Azriel’s POV

I didn’t wanna be pissy with her; I was so relieved she was okay after that allergic reaction and I felt like crap because I’d let that happen to her. I brought her up here for safety and this s**t happens.

I wanted to pamper her, spoil her, make love to her non-stop for the next 24 hours before we had to go back to real life.

Everything was just getting on top of me right now. Seeing the Pattinsons and getting attitude from them, seeing Dawson, and then talking to him and listening to the s**t that came out of his mouth just pissed me off. I was tired and pissed off and stiff from a long night trying to sleep in a chair. I felt out of control. I wanted her away from all of them, all to myself. So, why couldn’t I let everything go so I could just enjoy the next 24 hours with her?

When we got back to the farm she began to put the groceries away and I left her for a while. I got some grass cut out back with an old rusty manual push mower to make an area for the barbeque and campfire. I looked up at the second storey doors and decided it might be a good idea to build a deck up there. Maybe we’d come back before summer was over and spend a few days so I could work on that. I’d started off at fourteen working for my uncle’s construction company and I could build just about anything. In a year or two maybe I’d start working on building a cradle.

I couldn’t believe where my mind was going, imagining having babies with her when we’d only been together not even a few weeks and when she’d only agreed to try with me not 48 hours ago.

I took my frustrations with everything out with my axe as I chopped enough firewood for more than a few campfires.

Claire’s POV

I’d put all the groceries away and made a marinade for the steak and another one for the chicken then chopped potatoes, mushrooms and onions and put them in a tin foil packet along with some butter and spices. I also spiced and then wrapped corn cobs in foil. I made the bed and tidied up and then watched him out the back busying himself. His muscled skin glistened in the sunlight as he chopped wood wearing just his jeans and his motorcycle boots.

After a little while of watching him chop wood, lost in thought — thoughts about him, about my life, about my Dad, about my future, about the muscles on his body flexing (who knew how sexy a guy chopping wood could be to watch?) that I decided to take my container of worms and my pink fishing pole and head down there. As I passed him, I put a bottle of beer on the log beside him, he looked sweaty and dirty and thirsty. He mumbled thanks to me but kept chopping wood.

I tried to ignore him and sat down on a huge flattened rock to fish from but then I opened the lid of the worms and seeing them squirm in dirt was…ugh. I couldn’t imagine touching one let alone poking it with a hook so I put the lid back on and then just sat and stared out at the pond.

When I glanced in his direction I thought he still looked pretty pissed off, broody, grouchy, and then I caught him stealing glances at me here and there, his expression softening. Finally, he stared at me as he drank from the bottle of beer and then walked over and without saying anything to me he put the worm on my hook and passed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said and then casted out.

He walked back to the now massive wood pile, grabbed the neck of the beer bottle, downed it while watching me, then resumed chopping. The sun started to set and he finally put the axe down and then I saw him fiddling with the barbeque and so I headed back to the loft and washed my hands, tossed the salad, set the table, and started grabbing the steaks and the vegetables to bring down.

“That needs to heat a little still,” he said, “I’m grabbing a shower. Join me?” He pulled me against him and even though he was sweaty he still gave me the tingles. I squirmed against him, “You’re all sweaty and manly.” I guess his foul mood was over?

He let out a barbaric little growl s***h snort against my throat, making me giggle, and then nibbled on my earlobe. We walked back up to the loft hand in hand and after I put the food back in the fridge and then turned he crouched, put a shoulder to my belly, and hauled me up over his shoulder, “Rawr! This man want woman in shower!”

I giggled all the way there. Then when he put me down, my dress came right up over my head all in a fluid motion. There was hardness in his eyes; my giggle faded to a hard gulp.