Sex in the Sticks

by Sawyer Bennett

  Valentine comes over to me, and first things first, I give her a big hug.

  Then a big, deep kiss.

  "You were awesome," I tell her.

  She grins at me and says, "Well, you haven't seen anything yet. Got my bag?"

  I hand her the large garbage bag she had thrown a few things in when we went to my house, and one other thing she got at the general store--having been very very pleased she found what she was looking for there. I have no idea what's up her sleeve, but I am eager to find out what she's going to do.

  Turns out, it takes almost forty-five minutes to get the stage set up, which includes a set design to resemble a home. There's a realistic-looking kitchen, a small dining table, a recliner, and a TV. There's also a walled frame around the stage, and when Al comes out to the microphone, dark curtains are pulled closed so the home setup is blocked out.

  "All right, folks, come gather close. We're ready for the Welcome Home Honey event. Now this is the event where our women can get as creative as they want, or they can just show us how it is when they welcome their honey home. This is more of a subjectively judged event, so each councilmember will award points on how well they think each woman does. And I think we're ready for our first contestant, so without further ado..."

  One by one, the contestants put on their best Welcome Home Honey skit. They each get a few minutes to set their stage, then the curtains are pulled back. There's a fake door, and their "honey" walks through, then the woman shows why she's the best at welcoming them home.

  Most of them are pretty funny. April's is adorable as she welcomes Jorgen through the door and has a picnic basket packed for him, along with two fishing poles. She walks right back out the door with him, denoting to all that she knows her guy would appreciate some early evening fishing with his girl.

  Darla's is kind of predictable, having a hearty meal cooked for when her honey comes home. She conned Monte into being her partner, and he'll probably get laid tonight I'm sure for his participation.

  Finally, we get down to the last contestant, which is Valentine. The curtains are closed so she can set up, and Al points at me to go to the side of the stage so I can walk through the door when she's ready. I'm fucking nervous as hell for her and yet excited to see what she's going to do. Valentine is fiendishly clever and this should be good.

  "Okay," Al says into the microphone. "Our last contestant tonight is our beautiful New York visitor, Valentine French. She's done a remarkable job on all of these events, don't you think so, folks?"

  The men all give rousing cheers, most of the women offering lukewarm applause, and Darla glares stonily at Al.

  "You ready, Logan?" Al asks as he looks across the stage to me. And then adds, "Honey."

  I resist the urge to flip him off and just nod at him.

  Al leans into the microphone and says, "I give you...Miss Valentine French...all the way from New York City."

  More cheering and the black curtains slide open. I can't see the stage, but when I hear a collective gasp from the crowd, I figure that's my cue to walk through the door.

  And holy fucking shit, Christ on a cracker and Jesus...I've died and gone to heaven.

  Valentine has set the stage perfectly and there isn't a man who wouldn't give his right nut to come home to this.

  She has soft, sexy music with a feral sort of beat playing in the background, and I note that's my tiny wireless speaker she must have snatched from my bedroom earlier. She's standing by the recliner wearing a miniscule red dress, and when I say miniscule...there's hardly anything to is. She has to be freezing her ass off and my eyes immediately go to her breasts. I'm relieved that at least the material is thick enough to cover her hardened nipples or she's wearing a thicker bra underneath. Regardless, the dress is strapless and cuts into a deep V at her breasts, and the hem barely comes to midthigh. And on her feet are the fucking sexiest shoes I've ever seen. Red spike-heeled sandals with a thick leather strap that goes around her ankles.

  And because my girl is from New York City, she's casually but sexily holding a martini glass with three olives in her hand.

  "Hey, baby," she purrs as she struts to me. I sneak a glance out at the crowd and every man is watching her like a hawk, their tongues practically hanging out of their mouths. It makes me proud, but makes me want to crack some heads too.

  When she reaches me, she curls a hand around the back of my neck and goes to her tiptoes, placing her lips near my ear but speaking loud enough the crowd can hear. "I've missed you."

  Fuck and I'm turned on. I have to think of fish guts or something so I don't get a hard-on.

  Valentine hands me the martini and says, "I made your favorite drink."

  She knows this isn't my favorite drink--which is beer--but she's putting her New York spin on this so I take it from her and bring it to my mouth. It's water, but I take only a small sip.

  She smiles at me, her lips slick and puffy as she takes the glass back, bending to the side to place it on a table beside the recliner. Her warm hands then go inside my jacket and she slides it from my shoulders, placing it carefully over the back of the chair.

  Valentine's hand then takes mine and she laces her fingers through mine. She turns and walks around the back of the recliner, leading me there. When we get to the front of it, she puts her hands to my chest and pushes me gently down. "I know you've had a long, hard day so sit back and relax."

  I sink back down into the recliner, and all of these visions of this being my life for real with Valentine start crashing in on me. She looks at me sympathetically, not because of what I'm thinking, because she has no clue, but because she's in character and she's welcoming her honey home after a long day.

  To my surprise, Valentine turns sideways and sits on my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and crossing one sexy leg over the other. And it's useless, with her warm ass on me, I start to get hard. She knows it and wiggles a little, and I want to spank her ass for that.

  Valentine stares at me a moment then places her fingertip on my chin as if she's contemplating something. Then she says, again loud enough for the crowd to hear, "I bet I know exactly what will make you feel better. Want to hear?"

  Fuck yeah I want to hear. Another glance out at the crowd and I know they all want to hear as well.

  "Then let me tell you," she purrs, and I think I hear a few guys in the audience groan.

  Valentine leans into me, puts her lips near my ear, and whispers low enough so only I can hear. "I want you to handcuff me again tonight, Logan. Use me hard, okay?"

  Fuck...full-blown erection.

  No one in the audience could hear that, but she bares her teeth and bites my ear, and everyone saw that. Some guy whistles and then they all start cheering with hoots and hollers as the black curtains drop and Valentine and I are alone for a brief moment.

  She grins at me. "How'd I do?"

  "You should win the whole fucking thing after that," I tell her earnestly. "And I've got a hard-on, you brat."

  "And I'm not wearing any panties under this dress if you want to cop a quick feel to see how much I'm turned on," she whispers.

  I don't even ponder for a second if she's teasing me or not. My hand goes right between her legs, knowing full well someone could walk back here any minute, and my fingers find her wetness.

  "Jesus," I mutter before leaning in to brush my lips over her neck. "Can we go home now?"

  "Yes, let's go home," she says on a low moan.

  Visibly hard or not, I pull my hand out from between her legs, surge up out of the chair, and grab my coat. I throw it over Valentine's shoulders, and then I head off the stage and toward where my truck is parked. We're not staying around for the announcement of the winner.

  Chapter 21

  Valentine

  "There should be a law across the nation that everyone has to start their mornings this way," I purr as my fingers massage Logan's scalp. His mouth is working between my legs and he hasn't shaved since the Wild Wilderness Woman contest th
ree days ago, and I love the way his bristles feel against my legs. I vaguely hear Sassy scratching at the bedroom door and I assume Logan put her out there before waking me up in this most delicious way.

  Logan grunts his agreement to my statement, flutters his tongue against my clit hard, and I break apart for him. I'm still trembling when he climbs up my body, his lips wet and triumph in his eyes. I give him back a lazy, sated look as he pulls my legs apart and raises them.

  "Good morning," he says gruffly as he smiles down at me.

  "Morning," I mumble back, and then he slides into me.

  My eyelids flutter closed as Logan wraps my legs around his waist and proceeds to fuck me slowly and tenderly. God, it is so good. It gets better every time, and I'm not a stupid girl. I may have a useless degree, but I know what this means. It means there are feelings and I'm not going to try to deny it, but I have to admit...I am confused by it.

  But for now, I go with it. I feel every inch of Logan's cock inside of me, dragging torturously slow against the walls of my sex as his hips lazily flex and rotate. Most times with Logan, we go pretty hard and fast, a pace we both like and get off on pretty quickly. Just yesterday, I went to visit him in the police station wearing a wool skirt and boots, hoping he would think I looked pretty. I was going to invite him to lunch, but Logan had other ideas. He took one look at me and without even saying hello or giving me a kiss, he walked to the front door of the station and turned the lock.

  When he came back into his office, I asked, "What if someone needs you?"

  "Nothing's going to happen in the next ten minutes, I promise you," he said smugly.

  "You only got ten minutes in you?" I taunted with an arched eyebrow.

  "All I need to get us both off, baby," he returned cockily, which made me go wet at the thought. He could get us both off in less time than that.

  We made out for maybe a minute, my hands diving down his pants to work his cock, his pulling my skirt up and playing with me through my underwear from behind. At the two-minute mark, he had me turned, bent over his desk, and was driving into me. He hadn't even bothered to more than pull my panties to the side, nor do nothing more than push his pants and gun belt down past his hips.

  Fast, hard, hot, slick fucking and we both came really fast. It was totally less than ten minutes.

  "Where'd your mind go?" Logan asks as he thrusts gently into me. I open my eyes to find his face hovering over mine. He's got his torso held off me, but those hips of his are grinding lightly against mine even though his pace is very slow.

  "Thinking about yesterday in the police station," I murmur.

  Logan punches his hips a little harder into me, clearly enjoying the memory as well. He bends down, brushes his lips against mine, and says, "You're perfect."

  "As are you," I murmur back.

  I close my eyes, wrap my arms and legs tightly around Logan, and let him leisurely fuck me to a fantastic orgasm, which I share with his, and then I go back to sleep for a while after he leaves for work.

  --

  My phone rings and I reach out to nab it off the coffee table. I was almost asleep as I lay on Logan's couch, so was a little sluggish when I answered, "Hello?"

  "Damn...did I wake you up?" I hear Jeremy say. "It's almost two P.M. there."

  "I was just on the verge of taking a nap," I say as I scoot up on the couch and rub my eyes with my free hand. Sassy stands up from where she was lying at my feet, arches her back like a cat, yawns, and then flops back down.

  It's official. We've both become super lazy.

  "You're in freaking Alaska," Jeremy says. "There are a million awesome things you could be doing and exploring, and you're napping instead."

  I think briefly of telling him Logan wore me out this morning, but that's not exactly true. Besides, Jeremy's always had a good bullshit detector where I'm concerned. "There's nothing around here that really appeals to me," I admit to him. "I'm terrified to go hiking because of that experience getting lost, and there's nothing to do in this town. I have no way to get over to the bigger town of Ketchikan, and now that I'm staying at Logan's house, I can't even walk into town. It's like three miles away. I have to depend on rides."

  "You can't walk three miles?" Jeremy asks dryly.

  "There are bears," I tell him matter-of-factly.

  "Then why the hell are you still there, Val?" Jeremy says. "I truly thought you'd be back by now."

  "I don't know," I grumble as I finger the soft fleece of the blanket I'd put over my legs when I lay down on the couch after lunch.

  "I'm going to guess it's Logan," Jeremy says, pointing out the obvious.

  And he's right...I am having an amazing time with Logan. Sure, the days that he has to work suck, because I'm sort of stuck with nothing to do, but when he's not working, it is fucking awesome. He's taken me flying again, and we've gone to Ketchikan a few times to peruse art galleries and eat at some nice restaurants. We've hit The Wounded Caribou at night and had a few beers with the locals, and I'm getting to know a lot of them. Sure, some of the guys can still be a bit jerky, but they totally hold it way in check when Logan's around.

  Of course, I've also become closer with April. She's not like any of my girlfriends back home, most of whom are married or engaged, have kids or are pregnant, and want to do nothing but debate whether breast feeding in public should be allowed. It's no wonder that Jeremy is my best friend back there.

  "I notice you're not writing," Jeremy says quietly into the phone, and my entire body tightens. "It's been over a week, and I'm sure you've been watching social media. Your fans are clamoring to know what's going on with your hot police chief."

  God, so much is going on. So many feelings and experiences, and the thought of sharing them makes me sick. I've been debating the last few days about writing a blog that's complete fiction, just to give people something, but I can't even do that. I've always told the blunt and honest truth.

  "I can't do it, Jeremy," I whisper into the phone. "I can't write anymore about what's going on with Logan and me."

  "Because?" he prompts.

  "Because..." I say quickly, and then falter. I can't say the words out loud to him.

  "You've fallen for him, haven't you?" he asks in awe. No teasing. No joking. Pure, joyousness for me.

  "I have," I whisper, afraid for it to be true because it means everything about my life will change. "But it's only been a few weeks; how can that happen so fast? Maybe it's not real."

  "Have you ever met anyone like Logan before?" Jeremy asks.

  "Never."

  "What's the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning?" he asks.

  "Logan," I say quickly, but I don't elaborate that it's often because his mouth or fingers are on me.

  "Before you go to sleep?"

  "Logan."

  "Val...what does the thought of not being with him make you feel?" Jeremy asks cautiously.

  I pause a moment, thinking about how I'd feel if I were to go back to New York City right now, this very moment. My stomach pitches, my chest squeezes, and my legs feel rubbery.

  "It feels wretched," I tell him with brutal honesty.

  "Then, my dear, you are one hundred percent in love with the man," Jeremy says as if he's a proud parent.

  "Whoa, whoa, whoa," I say almost panicked. "Who said anything about love?"

  "You did, dingdong," he says. "Everything you just described...it's love. Or fucking close enough to it."

  "What if he doesn't feel the same?" I ask him, completely out of sorts. I've never felt like this for someone, and I've never doubted how someone's felt about me. Granted, I knew without a doubt how most of the men I'd dated or been intimate with felt about me. I was a possession, or a prize. I was an afterthought sometimes, and other times, I was just a really great lay.

  But with Logan...I have no clue how he feels about me.

  None at all.

  "So what do I do?" I ask Jeremy.

  "That I can't tell you, darling," he
says gently. "You have to muddle through love on your own. But from what you've told me, he sounds like a great guy. You can tell he likes you a lot."

  "I guess," I say hesitantly.

  "You're going home with him soon to meet his parents, right?"

  "It's not like that," I say quickly. "His trip home was already planned; I got sort of invited as an afterthought."

  Jeremy laughs, and doesn't stop for several moments. Finally I snap at him. "What's so funny?"

  "Oh, Valley," Jeremy says with all the affection in the world. "You could never be an afterthought. I love you, and at least you have that."

  I smile, warmth bubbling through me. He's totally right...I at least have Jeremy, who loves and appreciates me just the way I am.

  "I gotta go," Jeremy says. "Aubrey's calling me."

  Of course she is.

  "Okay," I say glumly, because I want to talk more with him about my feelings for Logan, or better yet, how I find out what his are about me. Not going to happen now with Aubrey calling. "Talk again soon. Love you."

  "Love you back," he says, and then he disconnects.

  I lean back against the armrest of the couch and tap my phone to my chin. I could ask Logan outright what he thinks is going on between us. But God, if he thinks it's just casual and he's sort of hoping and expecting I'll leave sometime soon, I don't think I can handle that.

  Maybe I'll just wait a bit. We're flying out on Sunday morning to Seattle and we'll be spending four days with his parents. I'll see how things go, then maybe we can have a meaningful talk when we return.

  Or I could totally chicken out and just head back to New York without ever risking my heart being on the line.

  Chapter 22

  Logan

  "This was such a bad idea," I say, and then I grunt as I drive into Valentine from behind.

  "It wasn't my bad idea," she pants as I start moving faster. "You're the one that crawled into the shower with me."

  That I did, but fuck...she was sexy, and wet, and I wanted her, so what's a man to do? I still knew it was a bad idea and it didn't stop me. We were already running late as it was to get to the airport, but Valentine's body was just begging for me to help wash it, you know? I had only intended to soap her up, maybe cop a feel.

  Bad idea.

  One thing led to another--my hand between her legs, and then she went to her knees and sucked my cock for a bit, and let me just say: no one sucks cock like Valentine. Finally, I pulled her to her feet, spun her around quickly so her hands slapped against the tile wall for balance, and then I was driving into her from behind.