Stella blinked at me, lips parted. Small pants fell from her mouth as I traced her pussy lightly, spreading her wetness.
“Tell me, is this…” I slid my pointer finger along her slit, gathering her juices and holding it up for her to see. “…because you want me?”
“Yes,” she admitted breathlessly. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” A dark blush stained her cheeks, but she held my gaze.
I groaned because she’d torn down my last defense. If she’d been hesitant, I would have kept my distance, but like this, with the prospect of dying in this hellhole? I had no power to resist.
I knelt down in front of the bunk and dragged her toward the edge, my fingers stroking up her soft thighs. I hooked my hands in her boxer shorts and slid them down, catching a whiff of her musky-sweet aroma. My cock twitched with need. Fuck.
“I’m going to give you a good lick before I show you how to blow me,” I rasped. I wanted more than that. I wanted to bury myself in her heat, wanted to mark her as mine, but I couldn’t.
I didn’t wait for her reply. I parted her wide and dragged my tongue from her opening up to her clit. Stella bucked up with a hoarse moan. Her hand flew to the top of my head, her fingers raking through my hair. I smiled against her pussy, ignoring my warning voice. In this moment, I didn’t want to consider the consequences of our actions. The outside world and its rules seemed light years away.
She said my name over and over again as I licked her. Stella was my forbidden treat. Sweet as sin. A forbidden delight I wasn’t allowed to have and she tasted all the better because of it. Her throaty moans, her fingers tangling in my hair, her dripping arousal drove me near insane with desire. For the first time since losing my virginity at fourteen, I felt like I might come in my pants.
“Oh Mauro,” she said, her hips bucking, pressing her pussy closer to my open mouth. I dipped my tongue into her, wishing my cock could do the same.
“Do you like my tongue in your pussy?” I rasped.
“Yes.”
Her voice dripped with desire, with the need to come. I circled her opening then dove back in. Slipping my hands beneath her ass cheeks, I lifted her for better access, burying my face in her lap.
Every moan, every twitch of her body as I devoured her pussy made my dick swell more. Soon, Stella writhed beneath me, her cries bouncing off the walls as she arched up. I groaned against her as she came, feeling fucking triumphant about giving her first orgasm to her.
I didn’t want anyone else to see her like this—ever.
Stella
I tried to catch my breath, staring up at the underside of the top bunk. Whenever I’d tried to imagine how it would feel to have Mauro go down on me, it hadn’t nearly been as intense. I tilted my head. Mauro was still wedged between my thighs, his tongue trailing over my sensitive flesh lazily. It was almost too much, and yet still too good to stop him. Mauro looked up, meeting my gaze. With a dark smile, he parted me and took a deliberate lick. I flushed, torn between embarrassment and arousal.
“Are you ready to return the favor?” he asked in a growl.
Biting my lip, I nodded. Mauro pressed a kiss to my sensitive flesh, then to my hipbone before he stood. The bulge in his sweatpants was huge. Standing right in front of the bunk, he removed his shirt and dragged down his sweatpants. His erection bounced when it caught on the waistband. My eyes grew wide at his size.
I stared, lying frozen on my back.
Mauro tensed. “Stella? You don’t have to do—”
“I want to,” I choked out and slowly sat up. Now his erection was only a few inches from my face. He cupped my head with one hand while he braced himself against the top bunk with the other. His six-pack flexed and pure hunger reflected in his eyes.
Under his lustful gaze, I curled my fingers around his base, surprised at how wide he was.
“Take me into your mouth,” he rasped.
I parted my lips and cupped his tip. Taking my time to discover every inch of him with my lips and tongue, I relished in the small impatient thrusts of his hips, in his sharp breaths. Soon he began to pump into my mouth lightly. “Fuck, I want to fuck your mouth.”
He looked on the verge of losing control, dark and irresistible. I wanted him to lose himself with me. “Then do it,” I whispered, wanting to show him that I wasn’t the little kid he needed to protect anymore.
His eyes flashed with need. I cupped his ass, feeling a rush of heat between my legs. He gripped the board of the top bunk and began to thrust his hips, slow at first, then faster and harder.
I clung to his ass as he took my mouth. His eyes burned into mine, his expression twisted with pleasure, his muscles flexing with every slam. I had trouble taking in even half of him, but he didn’t seem to mind, judging from his grunts and moans.
Soon his movements became jerkier. He moved back without warning. “On your knees!” he barked.
Rattled, I scrambled onto my knees. I didn’t get the chance to wonder what was going to happen because I felt something wet and sticky hit my ass cheek followed by Mauro’s groan. I twisted my head around. Mauro’s eyes were closed as he pumped his erection slowly, spurting his release all over my ass. My core clenched at the sight.
I’d never thought this would turn me on, but it did.
Mauro opened his eyes and frowned. He reached for his shirt and cleaned himself with it, then my ass. “Are you all right?” His voice was rough with a hint of concern in it.
“Better than all right,” I admitted with an embarrassed laugh.
Mauro was bent over me to clean me. He dropped his shirt on the floor. “Is that so?”
I nodded, rolling onto my back so Mauro hovered over me, gloriously naked. “I thought you’d sleep with me when you asked me to get on my knees.”
Mauro’s eyes darkened. He cupped my cheek. “You know the rules,” he said gruffly, then added in an even lower voice. “And when I take your virginity, I won’t do it from behind. I want to see your face when I claim you.”
When, not if.
Maybe Mauro realized his choice of words too because he frowned.
He stretched out beside me, stroking my hair with an unreadable expression. “How will I stay away from you now that I know how sweet you taste? I want to eat you out again.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I joked. “There isn’t much we can do down here.”
Mauro chuckled. His eyes taking in every inch of my face until I had to look away, suddenly shy. It still seemed surreal what we’d just done. With Mauro I’d felt safe, I still did. He kissed me. I tasted myself on his lips. Pressing even closer to his strong body, I knew I wanted to be with him. Not just in this panic room.
I fell asleep in his arms not long after, feeling protected and in love.
“I won’t ever let you go.”
Seconds before I drifted off, Mauro murmured those words against my skin.
Mauro jerked behind me and practically leaped over my body, grabbing his guns from the floor. It took me a moment to understand why.
The lock of the trapdoor had clicked. With a creak, the thing opened. Mauro grabbed my arm and pushed me behind him, his guns aimed at the ladder.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest.
“Mauro?” a man called.
Mauro relaxed, lowering the gun. “Stella and I are down here.”
“Don’t shoot. I’m coming down now.”
I slumped against his back, finally recognizing the voice of one of Father’s men. Realizing I wasn’t wearing anything beneath the T-shirt, I quickly slipped into the discarded boxers. Luckily, Mauro had put on his sweatpants before we’d fallen asleep.
“We’re safe,” I said, relieved.
Mauro turned to me with a small smile. “We are.”
This panic room had become our respite from reality, our own pleasurable, safe haven. It had brought us closer, not just physically.
I wanted a future with Mauro, and I would get it.
Lockdown With The Mountain Man
Frankie Love
Copyright © 2020 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Lockdown with the Mountain Man
‘Love In Lockdown’ Charity Anthology
By Frankie Love
When the world falls apart — there is only one place she belongs: in my arms.
It’s always been Louisa.
Turns out — she wants me just as bad.
When she shows up at my cabin, enough is enough.
I’ve been patient. Biding my time — but now the shit’s hitting the fan in the free world and I’m not weathering this lockdown without the one I love.
Dear Reader,
Quarantine may be hard — but Lochlan is harder.
Screw self-isolation — it’s time to cozy up with the mountain man of your dreams!
xo, frankie
1
Lochlan
When I moved out here three years ago, I wanted to get away. The world had gone to shit... or so it seemed... but now as I listen to the radio, I realize I was wrong.
Now it's really gone up in flames.
The newscaster tells me I'm supposed to stay home, not go anywhere. I smirk. That won't be much of a problem, considering the only time I make my way to town is when I'm looking for a hot breakfast.
Well, that’s not the whole truth. It's not so much the breakfast I'm looking for. I can get that at home. I've got a freezer full of meat, chickens who lay eggs and plenty of pounds of coffee in my pantry. No, it's not the food I go to town for. It's the girl who is serving it up.
Louisa works at The Roadside, and it’s the only restaurant in town. There's not much in Redwood besides roadside cooking and the gas station right next to it. You can go to the big city if you want to get ammunition, a new fishing pole, something from a hardware store, but I don’t need to do that more than once or twice a year. I’m outfitted pretty well. I could survive the end of the world out here at my cabin.
But damn, it does get lonely.
When I pull up to The Roadside, I have a hankering for something sweet. I'm not talking French toast or a stack of pancakes. No, I'm thinking about Louisa, her tiny waist wrapped up in an apron, her curvy hips and the big round bump of her ass. I know that girl is barely twenty-one, but she's pushing me to the edge every damn night.
I'm not exaggerating. Sure, I only come down here once a month or so, but I come to her... visions of her, at least... every single night. I'm not trying to be crass. I'm just being honest. Louisa gets me all revved up in ways that shouldn't be legal.
I park my truck, the warning on the radio only background noise. But the moment I step into The Roadside, I realize the warnings I heard about staying home aren't just suggestions. Louisa and half a dozen customers are all watching the news on the television mounted to the wall.
“The United States mandates that all residents stay home for the next thirty days until we have more news regarding the state of the virus. Stock up on supplies, as the stay-at-home order may be extended depending on the global pandemic.”
I lift my eyebrows. Global pandemic? That accelerated quickly. I walk toward Louisa, knowing if I can't stay here and eat, I need to have a good hard look at the girl I want before I leave this place.
She's holding a pot of coffee and her eyes meet mine. "Lochlan," she says.
I run a hand over my beard, loving the way my name sounds on her sweet lips. "I was coming for breakfast, but looks like you’ll be closing shop,” I tell her.
She smiles softly as other patrons wave goodbye. "Everyone's getting out of Dodge,” I say, watching a couple pass us, telling Louisa goodbye.
“Stay safe, dear,” the older woman tells her.
When the customers are all gone, she turns back to me. “I knew you would be here. It's your Saturday." She looks over at the table where I always sit in the corner, a table for two. She's never sat down and joined me. Why would she? This sweet thing is nothing for a gruff guy like me.
But still, I know she likes talking to me... but hell, maybe she likes talking to everyone. She's friendly, a sweetheart to everyone she seats.
"I guess I'll have to go," I say, "unless..." Before I can say anymore, her dad John Wallis steps out from the kitchen.
"Louisa," he shouts, "get back here. We're closing up.”
Louisa's eyes widen and I see a flash of fear. Is she scared of the news broadcast, or of her father?
“Did you even hear me, Louisa? We're leaving. Now. I gotta lock these doors." She nods, understanding, following his directions. But I can tell she doesn't want to. I grab a hold of her wrist before she walks away.
"Listen," I say, "if you ever need anything, you know where I live. Up on the Ridge.”
She nods as John hollers for her to stop talking to me. “I’m sorry, but I have to go," she says, and the way she says it damn near breaks my heart, like she has no choice, like her life's already been decided for her.
Her father starts closing the blinds, yelling at Louisa to go close up the kitchen. She starts to leave, but before she steps through the doors, her eyes meet mine.
I know I’m a good ten years older than her, and that I’m not about to cross any lines.
But I won’t live with regret.
“I mean it, Louisa,” I tell her. “My home is open if you need a safe place.”
2
Louisa
I shut the door to the kitchen and close my eyes. Count to ten, breathe in, breathe out, try and convince myself that it's okay.
But I hear my dad yelling for me to hurry. I hear the slur in his voice even if other people don’t. He’s a functioning drunk until four in the afternoon when he turns into a raging ass. But the news of a pandemic has sent him into an early morning binge.
It's only 9:00 AM and I bet he’s already finished a bottle of whiskey, maybe more. He's a drunk and he's angry and this quarantine or lockdown or whatever they're calling it is only going to make him worse. Angrier, more dangerous.
Seeing Lochlan here sent a thrill through me for a moment. And when he told me I could come to him anytime I wanted, my heart pounded with hope. I wish I was the sort of girl who could just say, "Yes, I'm coming now. I'm not going to listen to my dad.”
But I've never been the kind of person who demands the sort of respect I deserve. Maybe some people would think that makes me weak, but I know what I am. I'm a survivor. My dad's all I've got and it's because of him I have food in my belly and a roof over my head.
I know, I know. I could just leave. And I was going to three years ago when I finished high school, but then Lochlan came into The Roadside one day and he sat down at a table and asked for the daily special. When I served him his omelet, his eyes met mine and I had this crazy, ridiculous fantasy that he would end up with me or I would end up with him. However it would go down, I didn’t care. I just wanted him.
I want Lochlan so badly, but he's never once made a move. He asked me once if I was dating anyone. I told him no, wanting him to say more. He didn’t, I saw the strain in his eyes. I know it was longing. Want.
But he held back. Three years straight and he’s never made a move and instead of me making one myself, I've waited, I've watched.
In the meantime, I did online college, got my associate’s degree. Worked here most days for my dad and been patient.
Then today, this crazy, unprecedented day, the news tells us to go home and stay there, and Lochlan decides to finally speak up. He tells me I can come to him if I need help. It’s all I want. Come to him. Over and over again.
As I turn off the ovens and the burners, and then put away food in the fridge and freezer, I know this is the moment I've always been waiting for.
Now is the time to say, "Yes, actually, I do need help."
> My dad is in the restaurant, closing up shop, and I wonder if Lochlan’s already left, pulled his big ass truck from the parking lot and headed back home. Or maybe he's still out there, his hand on the wheel, waiting for me.
Does he feel the same way I feel? I think he does.
I know what I have to do, even if it's crazy and without any guarantees. I have to take this chance, this risk, because I've waited for three years and I'm not going to stay at my dad's house for however long we're in lockdown, wishing I’d taken this chance.
I won’t suffer in silence. So instead I take off my apron and push back through the kitchen doors.
"Where you think you're going?" Dad asks. I bite my lip, steeling myself to be brave, to be the kind of girl I've always wanted to be.
I see Lochlan's truck in the parking lot. My heart pounds. My palms feel sweaty. I don't want him to leave without me.
“I’m leaving," I tell my dad. I should have left a long time ago.
"What are you talking about? We're supposed to stay inside our homes until the governor..."
I shake my head. "I know what the news says," I tell him. "But I'm not going home with you. You're a drunk, Dad, and I don't want to sit back and watch you drink yourself to death."
"And where do you think you're going?" he spits out.
I push open the door to the restaurant. I step outside. The breeze of the mountain morning rushing through me, through my hair.
"I'm going with Lochlan."
3
Lochlan
The door to The Roadside is open and with my car window rolled down I can hear her arguing with her dad. I’ve never heard Louisa raise her voice — though serving breakfast doesn’t really elicit tension.
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