Whiskey Kiss: A Small-town Romance

by V McFarlane

  The girls eat their sandwiches quietly but me? I can barely think about anything other than his fingers on me. It’s such a simple touch, harmless really but my skin has been burning at a hundred degrees since the car journey this morning that one touch, one look and I’ll be putty in his hands.

  “Not hungry?” He comments, looking down at the uneaten cheese sandwich in my hand.

  “No,” I squeak and then clear my throat, “No, I am, I just…”

  He chuckles lightly and brings his hand away. I instantly miss it and find myself leaning into him, wanting his hand, as innocent as it was, on me again.

  “Eat up,” he tells me, “We’ve still got half the park to go.”

  I groan inwardly, can’t we just go home, send the girls to bed and just be alone?

  I instantly feel bad for the thought. I’ve never wanted alone time before, it’s always been me and Ava then Taron just came and bulldozed all over that. I’m not complaining, it’s nice to have the attention, to feel wanted.

  “Soon,” he whispers in my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

  The promise sends shots of excitement through me and I nod, tucking into the food, not really tasting it, my mind too occupied with the thoughts of Taron and his hands, his kisses, his – well you get it.

  The man does wild things to me.

  Twenty-eight

  Taron

  The girls are asleep in the back of the car, unable to witness me reaching over and placing a hand on Penny’s thigh. It feels naughty. But like hell does that stop me.

  She jumps when my palm connects with her skin and then her breath hitches as I drag it up her thigh over the fabric of her skirt. Shit, having her so close to me all day has been hard. And talking about hard, I’ve been that way since I saw her this morning. Just knowing what tonight could bring has kept my mind preoccupied. Thankfully, the girls kept us busy most of the day, leaving me little time to picture the woman next to me naked. But now, with the quiet coming from the back seat and the open road ahead of us, all I can think about is her. Us.

  I might be just a little obsessed.

  I’m trying to decide if it’s a bad thing or not. It’s all consuming, this thing with Penny. Like my days would be dull, lifeless without her in it. What is that? What does that mean?

  The pang in my chest is telling me one thing but my head tells me it’s too soon.

  I’ve never thrown myself into something but this, I want to leap over the edge and drown in it, not caring if I come up for air again.

  I pull into the driveway and kill the engine. We fed the girls at the park before leaving so they can go straight to bed and with the sun fully set and the stars now out to play, I’m glad we did. Without a word, we both climb from the car and get our children from the back, cradling them in our arms and carrying them up to Ripley’s bedroom. I had set up the air mattress for Ava this morning so it’s easy changing them into their pyjamas and tucking them into bed.

  When we both make it back downstairs, we pause and take a deep breath. Alone.

  Finally alone…

  I don’t waste any time, I close the space between Penny and I and wrap her in my arms, crushing her against my chest and slamming my mouth against hers. She opens for me immediately, giving me access to her mouth as my hands wander up her curves over the top of her tank.

  She whimpers into my mouth, her whole body relaxing into my hold like she feels safe with me.

  I realise with a start, that’s all I want for her. To be safe. To be happy.

  I pull away, my breath and my heart in my throat. I see myself reflected back in her eyes, I see pure beauty and some innocence. I see a future. I rest my forehead to hers, steadying my breath. I need this to last. I need to drag this out, to feel everything she has to offer.

  She leans forward and gently brushes her mouth to mine, pressing her lips with so much emotion my heart does a weird little flutter in my chest.

  Holy shit, I’m in deep.

  Drawing back, her hands find the top button of my shirt and with nimble fingers, she flicks it open, going to the next and then the next until my shirt is open and her hands are on my abs, her fingers running over the muscles which tense beneath her touch.

  My skin erupts in goose bumps. She leans forward and presses her mouth to my chest, right above my heart which is pounding so fast beneath the surface I’m sure she feels it too.

  “You’re amazing,” she mumbles against my skin, her nails biting in just enough for me to feel it.

  My head falls back as she kisses her way down my chest and then my abs, following the trail of hair that disappears beneath my shorts.

  “I want you, Taron,” she whispers breathlessly, “I want you so bad.”

  Her words snap me out of the spell. Gripping her arms, I bring her back up, covering her mouth with mine and pushing my tongue passed her lips. I can taste the coffee we had on the way home but on her, it tastes like the finest whiskey on the shelves in my distillery.

  I guide her back, stopping at the foot of the stairs, an idea suddenly springing to my mind, “Go up to my room and wait there.” I tell her, more demand than request.

  Her brows shoot up, but she doesn’t question, instead she turns and saunters up the stairs, her hips swaying hypnotically. My eyes follow her until they can’t anymore and then I dip into the office and grab my bottle of whiskey before taking the stairs two at a time to get back to her.

  She’s waiting, exactly where I asked her, at the end of the bed. She rings her hands in front of her, a sudden questioning look on her face. She looks between me and the bottle of whiskey, her brows drawing down in confusion.

  I throw the bottle down onto the bed and approach her, rubbing my hands down her arms and gently kissing her.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she breathes, “More than okay.”

  Her answer brings a smile to my face and I drop the shirt from my arms. Her eyes roam over my bare flesh.

  “Can I?” I ask, tucking my fingers beneath the hem of her top. She nods and swallows.

  I slowly pull it up, revealing her smooth stomach and bra clad chest. She’s in a simple white bra but for me, it may as well be the laciest, raunchiest lingerie for what it does to me. The swell of her breasts are like beacons for my mouth and I just have to lean in and kiss them, loving the way the flesh softens under my mouth. I feel the erratic beat of her heart, pounding in her chest and can hear the fast way her breath exhales from her mouth.

  She’s so goddamn perfect.

  My hands find the zipper at the back of her skirt and with a nod, I pull it down, allowing the material to fall from her hips until it pools around her feet.

  Stepping back, I look over the woman in front of me. Taking in the curves, the flare of her hips that flow down into shapely thighs. There’s not one thing wrong with her. I reach forward and grab her hips, my fingers digging into the flesh and guide her back until her knees hit the mattress and she drops with a gasp.

  I’ll forever remember her sprawled out on my bed, her honey blonde hair a halo around her face, her plump lips parted and eyes wild with lust.

  My cock is pulsing inside my shorts, but it’ll have to wait. I need my taste of Penny. My fill of her before I enter her perfection.

  “Take off your bra,” I demand.

  “What?” She stutters.

  “Take it off.”

  Never taking her eyes from me she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, holding the cups as she pulls the straps down her arms and then lets her hand fall away and with it, the material shielding her from me.

  Perfectly round breasts greet me, the nipples peaked and rosy, begging for my mouth. Unable to help myself I kneel between her thighs and dip my head, taking one into my mouth whilst I pinch the other between my thumb and forefinger.

  She gasps, her back arching, pushing her breasts further into me and if that isn’t the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to me then I don’t know what it. Everything about her
is sexy, sinful, addictive…

  Reluctantly, I pull away, kneeling over, committing this moment to memory.

  “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you,” I growl.

  “Are you going to talk or are you going to do?” She asks, oozing a confidence I didn’t realise she had.

  The woman never fails to surprise me.

  A smile pulls on the corners of my mouth, “Oh I’m going to do, darlin’.”

  She smiles and leans back onto her elbows, bringing her knees up. My eyes drag down her body, taking it all in before I reach over and grab the whiskey bottle.

  “Open your mouth,” I order.

  At this her brow cocks but she does as she is told, parting those delicious lips and showing me her tongue.

  Before I do anything further, I drop down to her and suck it into my mouth, grazing my teeth along her lip until she’s whimpering and grinding against nothing.

  She’s so open for me, so ready and so willing it’ll be hard not to take and take and take…

  Twenty-nine

  Penny

  If I could take a picture of Taron right now I would but I settle for a mental snapshot of him kneeling above me, only in his shorts and holding a bottle of whiskey.

  He looks wild. His eyes are darker, pupils large and his brows drawn, jaw clenched. The muscles in his chest and stomach are pulled tight, the ridges prominent, the shadows and dips deep. I can’t help myself, I reach forward and run my hands down the ladder of his abs, digging my nails in which earns me a low growl that sends heat between my legs, my muscles clenching.

  “Open,” he says, more demand than anything else and like before I do as I am told, parting my lips. He unscrews the bottle and leans forward, tipping it to my lips and the liquid pours in. It spills over, dribbling out the sides of my mouth.

  Taron takes the bottle away and leans in to kiss me, sucking my tongue into his mouth and then with his thumb he drags it up the side of my face, capturing the river of whiskey that didn’t quite meet my mouth. He laps it up like it’s the last drink he’ll ever have.

  “Maybe that’s what my whiskey is missing,” he murmurs.

  “What’s that?”

  “You.”

  I moan and tip my head back, my back arching up to him. I need him to touch me, to quench my incessant thirst for him. He runs a hand from my neck, down through the valley of my breasts to my navel, my muscles spasming under his touch. I’m embarrassingly wet for him, my panties need to go. I need him in me.

  I don’t get what I wish for though.

  I shock of cold liquid has my head snapping up to him to find him pouring whiskey down my stomach. His head is cocked and he’s watching it so intently, his eyes wide, his tongue darting out to taste his bottom lip. It’s erotic. It’s sinful. It’s hot!

  After he’s finished, he leans down and runs his tongue up my stomach, kissing and licking the whiskey away.

  “This is how I’m always going to drink my whiskey,” he tells me, matter of fact.

  I chuckle, “Is that right?”

  “Mm,” he groans as his tongue comes up to follow the swell of my breast.

  This wasn’t what I had been expecting, not even close to it but I can’t complain. This is so much better but it’s torture. I want him to touch, not tease.

  He comes away and takes a swig of the whiskey before screwing the cap back on and throwing the bottle to the side. He drops down above me, his face above mine and then he brings his mouth to mine. The trickle of whiskey surprises me but I lap it up, taking what he is offering and swallowing it down.

  “Taron,” I moan when he pulls away.

  “Soon, darlin’,” he promises, unbuttoning his shorts. “I need to taste you.”

  I moan as he slides down my body, licking his way over my skin as his fingers curl around the waistband of my panties and he drags them down my thighs. He sucks in a breath and my cheeks heat at how vulnerable I am to him. I go to close my legs, but he stops me with hands to my knees.

  “No,” he shakes his head.

  I swallow hard.

  Taron licks his lips and then drops his head, closing his mouth around my clit, the flat of his tongue pressing into me. My hips jerk, grinding against his mouth and skilled tongue as it quickly brings me to the brink of climax without even trying.

  The noises he makes? If I could bottle that and take it home, I would.

  “Taron,” I cry out.

  “Come,” he demands, the vibration of his voice sending me over the edge. He suddenly adds two fingers, pushing into my entrance and causing my muscles to clamp down around him. My release washes through me, my muscles spasming.

  I miss him the moment he withdraws but then he’s standing and dragging his shorts and boxers down his thighs. My breath lodges in my throat when he’s finally revealed to me. His cock is hard, large, precum glistening over the tip.

  He leans over to the bedside table and grabs a condom, rolling it on which really shouldn’t be sexy, but it is and then he’s climbing back between my legs, leaning his head down to kiss me. I taste myself on his lips, but I find I don’t care as the head of his cock slides through my folds, falling down to sit at my entrance. I’m so ready for him.

  He nudges in an inch and my breath catches.

  “Are you okay?” He asks against my mouth.

  It’s been a long time since I last had sex, I can feel him stretching me, my body flexing to allow space. It hurts a little, but I need him.

  I nod, capturing his mouth with mine as he tilts in further and further until he’s fully seated inside.

  He growls, breaking the kiss and his chin drops to his chest, a long exhale escaping his lips.

  “Fuck, you feel good,” he admits.

  “Fuck me,” I tell him, “Taron, I need you to move.”

  I bring my knees up and lock my ankles around his hips. His eyes bore into me with the heat of a wildfire. He begins to move his hips, pulling out to then pulse back in at an excruciatingly slow pace.

  My fingers claw into his shoulders and I watch the muscles in his torso move, flexing and twitching with every move of his hips. God, he really is perfect.

  I push my hips up, allowing him to sink in further and hit spots he hadn’t before.

  “Oh god,” I cry, my eyes falling closed as pleasure rushes me.

  “Shit, Penny,” his hips start to work faster, coming in at an angle that hits the sweet spot inside me.

  I cry out, unable to stop myself. He reaches forward and covers my mouth with his hand, “Shh, darlin’. Don’t want to wake the girls.”

  I groan behind his hand, meeting his eyes as he flexes into me, his face a mask of pleasure.

  “Harder,” I mumble behind his hand, “Harder!”

  He growls and quickens his pace, slamming into me again and again, his pelvic bone applying friction to my clit. My second orgasm is right there, the pressure building until I can’t take it anymore.

  He moves his hand to straighten his back, his hands gripping my hips as he pounds into me, again and again.

  I climax violently, my muscles clenching around his cock as my mouth screams his name.

  “Fuck,” he growls as he stills inside me, his cock swelling, his release coming fast and hot.

  He collapses down onto me, holding his weight in his arms.

  We lay there for a long time, him still inside me as our breathing slows.

  “That was…” I trail off unable to find the right words to explain just what that was.

  “Yeah,” he agrees, pressing a kiss into my neck before rolling off me and disappearing into his en-suite to dispose of the condom. He saunters back into the room, completely confident with his nakedness and then he stops to look me over, his head cocked to the side.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?” He says, his voice tight with emotion.

  I shake my head.

  “You are. All of you. Every. Single. Inch.”

  He switches out the light and climbs into
the bed next to me, “I didn’t make you dinner.”

  “You can make me breakfast.”

  “Anytime,” he says, bringing me into him so my back is to his front.

  I fall asleep with his arms wrapped around me, safely cocooned in his body.

  Thirty

  Penny

  I wake to a cold bed on Taron’s side. I’m naked beneath the sheets, my muscles aching. I run my hands over my skin, remembering the way his hands felt on my body, the way he brought me to release.

  Sighing, a smile tugs at my lips. This. This I could get used to it.

  In the house, I hear the girl’s sweet voices talking downstairs, asking questions about breakfast and how eggs are made. Chuckling to myself, I climb out of the bed and tame my mess of hair into a pony tail before I pull on one of Taron’s shirts and a pair of his shorts and then make my way down to the three of them.

  They are all in the kitchen, Ava whisking – badly – a bowl of eggs whilst Ripley butters toast and Taron cooks bacon. He’s in a pair of sweats and a vest, showing off his muscular arms and the golden skin touched by the sun.

  “Good morning,” I say to the room.

  “Mommy!” Ava squeals, jumping down from the counter to run over to me and launch herself into my arms. I hug her tight and then cock my head at Ripley who is watching me with a small smile.

  “Do you want one?” I ask her, opening my arms.

  She smiles and nods, running over to me to wrap her arms around my middle. I smooth a hand down her dark hair, squeezing her.

  She looks up to me with these big eyes that completely break my heart. I cup her sweet little face and smile down, realising something that’s going to destroy me if all this goes wrong.

  “Good morning,” Taron’s voice is husky and when I look up at him his eyes are raking over my body, the look resembling the way his hands felt.