by Kennedy Fox
Unlike me, who hadn't finished college because it just wasn’t for me, was currently a waitress at a little mom-and-pop restaurant back in the city, and had no friends really and certainly no love interest.
“Twenty-eight, and what do I have going for me?” I lifted an eyebrow at my reflection, like it was going to respond back. “A whole lot of nothing but a grouchy attitude, and forcing myself on my baby sister’s weekend sex trip, because I’m too protective of her.”
I sat on the bed and looked around. The room was cute and quaint, with an overabundance of a flower theme going on. Like everywhere. And it was the flower design you’d find in the ’90s at your grandma’s house—all pinks, tans, and burgundy shades with bursting blooms.
What have I agreed to?
I let myself fall back on the bed and closed my eyes. It was only when I heard knocking at my door that I sat up, realizing I’d fallen asleep.
“Penny?” Dorothy called through the closed door, and I rubbed my eyes before standing and opening it, staring at her clearly dressed to go out in the frigid weather. She eyed me up and down, her eyebrow lifting as she took note that I was not ready for what she had planned.
“What?”
She let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, you wanted to come with me to check out this guy for yourself, but you’ve been napping?”
I shrugged. “I’m tired from the trip.”
She rolled her eyes, but after a moment, I could see her starting to become excited. “He called me, Penny. We made plans for tonight. Dinner.”
Great.
I nodded. “Okay, well, I’ll go but take a different table.”
She scowled and shook her head. “Um. No.”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “D, I’m not letting you meet some guy alone—"
“It's a very public restaurant, Penny.”
Oh. Yeah. Good point.
“But...” she trailed off, and I waited for her to drop whatever bombs she was about to tell me. “I kind of told him my sister came with me.”
“Okay.” I let that one word hang between us.
“My very single sister.”
I closed my eyes and groaned, because I knew exactly where this was going.
Chapter Four
I still couldn’t believe I’d let Dorothy talk me into this, but as I sat at the table staring across at her and Henry, the attraction they clearly had for each other strong enough they couldn’t keep their hands off the other, I knew I couldn't blame her wholly.
I wanted to meet Charlie, to see if my heart stopped and restarted when I saw him in the flesh like it had seeing the picture.
The very idea of me having a blind date sprung on me—although, was it really a blind date if I knew what the guy looked like—should have been abhorrent to me, especially where it concerned my sister as the matchmaker.
But the prospect of seeing Charlie in person had my entire body lit up like I’d been set on fire.
In the picture, he seemed so big and rugged, so manly and strong. Maybe in real life it was the complete opposite, or at the very least not so intense?
I prayed so, for the sake of my libido.
But the longer I sat here listening to my sister giggle at whatever Henry just whispered in her ear, it made me want to excuse myself for the rest of the night.
And then Henry glanced up and lifted his hand to motion someone over, a big smile spreading across his face. Charlie had to be over six and a half feet tall, looking like he could crush bone in the palm of his hand.
Every part of me tingled and came alive, as if my body knew this was a real man... all male. It felt primal, instant in my need to mate with him.
It was insane. I was crazy.
I squeezed my thighs together, my sex clenching almost painfully. I was very aware of how hard my nipples instantly became, digging against the material of my shirt. My breath moved in and out of my mouth faster and harder the closer he walked toward us.
His thighs were as thick as tree trunks, the dark denim that covered them not hiding the sheer power of those limbs. The black jacket he wore was left unzipped, showcasing the gray shirt underneath. And that gray shirt didn’t hide how defined and hard I knew he was underneath.
I let my gaze travel right on down to the very defined, very big bulge at the front of his pants. Hell, the denim could barely contain all that cock.
I felt like my mouth was hanging open as I stared at him as he came forward. It was then I saw he watched me, his deep-blue eyes locked on mine. My cheeks were on fire as I realized he caught me checking him out... staring at his dick bulge.
And then he was sitting next to me, his thick arm brushing against mine. I felt like I was starstruck as I craned my neck back to look into his face. He made me feel so... small.
Henry introduced Charlie to everyone, and I shifted slightly in the chair so I could smile up at him, but my heart lurched in my chest at the dark desire I clearly saw reflected in Charlie’s eyes. There was no denying it. It was the same look I’m sure I wore.
I held out my hand on instinct, which I felt shaking slightly from the adrenaline mixing in my blood. And when he took my much smaller one in his massive palm, I felt liquid fire pool between my thighs. My clit throbbed in time with my pulse. Hell, that bundle of nerves had its own damn heartbeat right now.
The air left me violently, and I quickly snatched my hand back and tucked it under the table in my lap. I snapped my head in Dorothy's direction, fearing they’d seen my reaction to Charlie. But they were too engrossed in their own conversation, with the little touches they gave each other, with the breathy whispers they passed between them.
They didn’t notice shit. Thank God.
Maybe Charlie hadn’t noticed my instant reaction to him. But when I chanced a glance at him, that hopefulness died. He wore an expression of sensual wickedness.
Oh, he’d noticed the effect he had on me.
I could see that in the way he looked at me. I could see it in the way he wore that expression, how his jaw worked under his scruff as if he couldn’t control himself either.
I had absolutely no idea what was going on, why I felt like this, but what I did know was that I didn’t want to ignore it. I wanted to explore it.
Henry started talking about the Sugar Shack, how they started it, the history behind it. As much as I wanted to act like I was interested, listen, I couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of Charlie right next to me.
I swear he kept his forearm and thigh pressed to mine purposely. It was like he enjoyed making me feel on edge, knowing he affected me so profoundly I couldn’t breathe.
I was slowly dying of arousal, but God, what a way to go.
Chapter Five
For the next hour, it was Henry and Dorothy who did all the talking. We ate… and I drank. I needed the alcohol to get through this, hoping it would tame this incessant arousal burning inside me. It had been a damn mistake.
It made me hotter, needing Charlie more.
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to picturing what it would be like to have him take me. He was just so big and strong that I imagined being under him as he braced his forearms on either side of my head, as he thrust those no doubt massive inches into my wet, willing body.
And God, I’d be so wet. Soaked.
“Are you sure you’re okay with us going to catch a movie?” Dorothy asked after we’d been finished with dinner for about twenty minutes.
She wore a smile on her face, a grin that told me she wouldn’t care if I was or wasn’t okay with it. She’d go regardless.
I held up my third “Santa’s Little Helper,” tilting the fancy-looking adult beverage in her direction before bringing it to my mouth and taking a long sip. “I think we’ll manage,” I said and grinned up at Charlie, who said nothing but stared at me intently.
He watched me how a lion watched a gazelle before he attacked it.
My throat tightened at the look he gave me. He’d worn it the entire dinner, only re
ally speaking when asked a direct question. But the majority of the time? He looked at me.
God, my body was positively zinging with electricity at his close proximity. My lips and tongue were numb from the alcohol, and the buzz moving through my veins had a slow, what I knew was a sensual, smile playing across my face.
“Text me when you’re back at the room.”
I snapped my head in Dorothy’s direction and felt myself automatically nod. “Text me when you’re leaving,” I said back.
She smiled, nodded, and stood, and after Henry helped her with her jacket, she came over to me and leaned in close to whisper, “I have every intention of going back to his place, Penny, if you know what I mean.”
I scrunched up my face in disgust and looked at her as she pulled back, that mischievous smile still on her face. Dorothy might’ve been an adult, but she was still my little sister, and the very thought of her doing that grossed me out.
And then they were gone, leaving Charlie and me alone. I didn’t waste a second in ordering one more holiday-themed drink. I needed the alcohol to get through this, because I was very aware of him.
The size of his body. The warmth coming from him. The smell of his cologne. The feel of his arm pressed to mine, of his thighs parallel with mine.
I was hot and ready, primed and wet, and the more I felt that liquid courage wash through me, the more I wanted to throw caution to the wind and just tell Charlie to take me somewhere, anywhere, so he could relieve this ache.
He shifted in the seat, and I noticed it was so he could look at me better.
“You don’t talk much,” I said, my cheeks hot from the alcohol, and no doubt red. My face always flamed when I drank, a sure sign I was feeling good. “Or drink much either,” I murmured. He still didn’t say anything, but I noticed him looking at my lips then dragging his eyes up to mine before lowering them back to my lips.
I licked them on instinct. He watched the act, and I swore he groaned, swore his pupils dilated.
This was insane. I didn’t know this man from Adam, yet the instant attraction, the lust at first sight, was so strong and potent that I didn’t want to deny it.
He just seemed so… animalistic.
And when he leaned in close, so close I felt his warm breath move across my lips, I tried to force myself not to shiver. I failed, of course.
“What are your plans tonight, Penny?”
The way he said my name was filled with possessiveness. I didn’t even know that was possible, but hell, he said it like it was his, like he owned every part of it.
“My plans?” I whispered then cleared my throat and smoothed my hands over my thighs.
He nodded slowly, his gaze bouncing between my lips and eyes.
“I—I don't know. I don’t really have plans,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t a lie. My plan had been to go back to my room after buying enough junk food from the little store by the motel, popping on some sappy romcom, and vegging out until I could get out of Candied. He didn’t need to know my depressing details though, and the longer I looked him, the more I didn’t want to be alone… if you get my drift. “What are your plans?” I asked back.
He was silent for a moment but then leaned back, allowing me to suck in a lungful of air. “Do you want to know what I planned on doing, or what I want to do instead?”
God, the desire and the promise laced in those words were my undoing. I’d never been wanton, never been bold. I didn't go home with men, especially not ones I just met. But I’d also never felt this connection, this arousal. It was insane, but it made me hungry and thirsty. I was starving. I was parched.
And I had a feeling the only antidote for those kinds of needs was the man right in front of me.
And so I nodded slowly. My lips felt swollen, the blood rising below the surface of my skin. They were probably red as hell, because I kept biting at them, pulling at the flesh.
“I think what you and I want to do are on the same level, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded again. “You feel it?”
God, I’d really asked that, said it out loud. I could have kicked myself, but when he let out a low growl, I sucked in another breath.
He leaned in close again. “I fucking feel it, Penny.”
What in the hell was I doing?
Throwing caution to the wind? About to agree to let this mountain man fuck me every—any—way he saw fit?
And as I stared into his blue eyes, the answer was simple.
I sure as hell was. I only lived once and was only in town for the weekend. Why not go balls to the wall?
Chapter Six
I was drunk. Well, not drunk-drunk, as in I didn't know what I was doing or who I was going to do it with. But buzzed enough that this wild energy hummed through me.
Charlie had held my hand in a vice-like grip as he led me out of the restaurant and to his dark SUV, which was parked right in front of the establishment. Then, once we were both inside the vehicle, the heater blasting to stem off the chill in the air, he’d grabbed my hand again and hadn’t let it go until we were in his house.
And that’s where I was now, standing in his bedroom, looking at him, at all the raw, very male power that spilled from him like gasoline onto a fire.
I thought about dinner, how I felt when I sat next to him, how I’d been wet, ready, and the small, innocent touches had only whet my appetite, made me greedy for more.
I’d consumed far more alcohol than I normally did, and he hadn’t drunk a drop of booze, just water, as I felt his eyes on me the entire time. In fact, I don’t think he stopped looking at me until we were in the car and he had to focus on driving.
This is crazy. This is so damn senseless… yet I’ve never felt anything more perfect.
“Is this what you want?” he asked in that deep voice that sounded so very raw, so very male. “Am I what you want?”
I licked my lips and nodded, because frankly I didn’t think I could have formed a coherent word in that moment. My nipples were hard, pressing against my shirt. They ached, the mounds feeling heavy. I was wet—soaked, in fact. My panties were drenched, rubbing against the most intimate part of my body.
“I’ve never done this,” I blurted out suddenly, wanting to make it known that I didn’t just go home with strangers and fuck them.
“Neither have I,” he responded deeply, darkly, and took a step toward me.
I couldn’t breathe. The air was so thick, so hot. I’d only gotten a quick glance at the exterior of his place before he pulled me inside.
Two-story log cabin.
A wraparound deck.
And the only holiday decoration he had was a small potted pine tree right by the front door. His lack of holiday shit covering his place… turned me on.
Once inside, I’d only had a moment to glance around before we were all but hauling ass to his room.
His home was rustic, with exposed wooden beams on the ceiling, a massive fireplace, the kitchen and huge living room all one room. I smelled pine. And lemon. And him.
But I didn't come here to take inventory of his place. I’d come to let this very potent male fuck me.
And the way he looked at me said he planned on doing just that.
“I’ve never had a one-night stand,” I said when he took another step toward me. He crowded me. All I smelled, felt, saw, heard was him.
God, he smelled incredible, like soap and pine and everything that made me feel like a female. He was just so big, so tall and broad, muscular and powerful. I could imagine him out in the woods wearing a flannel and holding an ax, about to chop down a tree so damn easily, as if he were breaking a toothpick in half.
I didn’t know him, which made this irrational, but at the same time, I felt like I’d known him my whole life. He ignited this fire inside me the likes of which I’d never experienced before.
The rational side of my brain said I needed to remember the whole stranger danger rule. Isn’t that why I came here with Dorothy, to “save” her from something jus
t like this happening?
But then another side of me, the one that controlled the fact that I wanted him to fuck me so hard he made me forget my own name, overrode everything else.
Neither of us said anything else for long seconds, but the intensity in his stare had me feeling dizzy, sick with my desire for him.
“Good,” he finally said, responding to my whole “I don’t do one-night stands” spiel.
A shiver raced up my spine at the way he looked at me, the way he checked me out. He raked his gaze over the entire length of my body, and I curled my hands into tight fists at my sides. I could feel how hard my nipples were, and there was no doubt in my mind that he could see them pressing against the material of my shirt, like tight little buds begging for his mouth.
“Good?” I asked softly.
“You won’t ever have another one.”
I felt my eyes widen at that declaration he let slide from his mouth like it was a sexual touch along my body. Was he telling me I wouldn’t have another one, because he thought they were “bad,” scolding me like I was a child? Or was he telling me I wouldn’t have another one, because if I’m going to be bouncing on dick, it’ll be only his?
The latter was obviously my fantasy, a ludicrous one at that, but right there at the forefront of my mind nonetheless.
I clenched my thighs together as I imagined doing just that, riding this big mountain man until I climaxed so hard I saw angels.
“What do you want?” He took another step toward me.
He knew exactly what I wanted. I was here, in his room, wasn’t I?
Did he want me to go full-on raunchy, telling him I wanted to have his cock in my mouth so I could get it nice and hard, wet from my saliva, before he shoved it in deep? I’m soaked as it is, but if he’s as big down there as the rest of his body, he’s going to have to really work to fit that glorious dick in my pussy.