Peppermint Creek Inn

by Jan Springer

  This wasn’t right watching her while she was asleep.

  For all he knew, he was married and this was wrong. But deep down in his gut he sensed Sara was the only woman he was interested in, the only woman he wanted.

  Despite his feelings, he should leave.

  His legs didn’t budge.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her as desire raged to new heights.

  Oh, man, there were so many things he wanted to do to her lithe body, things that would have her screaming with joy, things that would chase away the sadness haunting her eyes.

  And he wanted to lose himself in her warm beauty. Needed to forget his troubles. Forget everything except just the two of them.

  He kept watching her, his breath escaping his lungs in harsh blasts. His balls were stretched tight and so full of his sperm he had to bite down on his bottom lip just to stop himself from climbing onto the bed, lowering himself between her legs and plunging his rigid cock deep into her succulent pussy.

  He found himself wondering how she would react if she woke up to him fucking her? Would she scream and cry rape? Or would she smile and cry out her pleasures as she’d done while he mouth-fucked her during their picnic?

  Slowly he moved forward, stalked toward her, watching her for any sign of movement. Waiting for her to awaken so she could see how stiff his cock was pressed against the prison restraint of his briefs.

  Would she be scared at how aroused he was? Or would she eagerly accept his length deep inside her, clasping her long legs around his hips as he thrust madly into her?

  Without thinking, he reached out and twirled her dark hair around his wounded fingers, sighing as the luscious silky strands soothed the rawness in his palms that had developed from breaking the branches of the romance tree with his bare hands. He’d been pissed off she hadn’t wanted to open her heart to him about her troubles. Had ignored the pain in his back as he’d chain sawed like a madman then piled the logs in the parking lot near the truck. Thankfully, she’d confided in him later over a cup of hot peppermint tea.

  The pain shining in her eyes as she’d talked about what had happened to her husband had just about killed him. He’d wanted to comfort her. To take her in his arms, make love to her. Make her forget her husband.

  Show her how much sexual joy he could bring to her. Show her how much he needed her.

  How he craved her in a way that made him wonder if it was normal to want to fuck a woman every time he looked at her. The desire for her had only increased when she’d so willingly allowed him to suckle her breasts this afternoon during the picnic and how eagerly she’d spread her legs allowing him to feast upon her delicious pussy.

  She was hot. Hot and horny.

  And so was he.

  But he had no right taking advantage of her the way he’d done during the picnic. She’d been vulnerable. The quilt had been some sort of family heirloom. That much he’d figured out. He’d been a fool to drag it out of the closet where it had been hidden beneath the picnic basket. But he’d had no idea it would hurt her.

  He seemed to be doing a lot of that. Hurting her. Pointing a gun at her—then a knife in the loft—and then enjoying her succulent body. He had no business sniffing around her. He had no future to offer her. He was a criminal. A man wanted by the cops who in turn wanted him dead.

  Even as he thought those things, he knew he was lying to himself. Despite his troubles, instincts told him he needed her in his life. There was something about her. Something that told him she held the key to his identity. Even though she denied she knew him, there was a strange uneasiness floating at the back of his mind. He’d felt it when he’d seen her wildlife paintings in the loft. It was something he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore.

  Her sexy peppermint scent sifted deep into his lungs encouraging him to untwirl her hair and delicately caress her high cheekbone, trace a perfectly arched eyebrow and with the barest whisper of a touch, run a delicate finger over her long, thick eyelashes.

  He came dangerously close to leaning over and kissing her slightly parted, pouting, ruby red lips when a thunderous crash shook the house.

  Her eyes popped open. Fear flashed across her face when she spotted him.

  “Easy. I just wanted to see how you were handling the storm,” he explained, backing away and giving her space, although that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Obviously, he’d frightened her by coming so close.

  The fear in her eyes only intensified.

  “I better go,” he said and twisted around to leave.

  “Don’t.” Her silky whisper trailed through the darkness and stopped him cold.

  Turning around he found her looking toward the windows. The fear was still there, accompanied by a worry wrinkle that burrowed across her forehead. His heart twisted for her. He knew she was thinking about the stormy night she’d found her husband in the cabin with a bullet hole in his back. The night she’d lost her babies.

  “It’s a bad one,” she stated. He detected the shiver of fear in her voice—saw the trembling of her body.

  “Bad enough to wake me up and I was sleeping like a dog.” He couldn’t stop his gaze from trailing over her nakedness again. Couldn’t stop the ragged breaths from ripping out of his mouth or stop the blood from pounding into his heavily rigid cock.

  At that moment, she looked away from the window and caught him ogling her. Her eyes widened as she realized her covers weren’t on her and that familiar flush swept across her cheeks. Quickly she grabbed the closest comforter and pulled it over her.

  Too late, sweetness. Your gorgeous nakedness has already been etched forever in my brain.

  She smiled nervously, her gaze darting everywhere except on him.

  “Thanks for coming in to check on me. I would have been scared if you weren’t here.”

  “No problem,” his voice cracked.

  Another round of lightning flashed at the windows and he saw her shiver again.

  “I’ll set one of the oil lamps on for you and get the fire going again. It’ll cheer you up.”

  “You mean help me forget…” she said softly.

  He nodded.

  “Thanks,” she whispered shyly and seemed to sink deeper under the comforter as another roar of thunder shook the windowpanes.

  He headed toward the fireplace where he spotted the items. Within a moment, a buttery glow shot from the oil lamp. He left it on the mantel and threw some pinecones he found in a bucket onto the glowing embers. A sharp crackling noise shot through the air and the cones quickly caught fire, fanning a burst of heat against his face. Then he followed up by tossing on some dry kindling and a couple of pieces of firewood.

  “I guess it is kind of stupid of me to be so scared of storms, especially since I used to love them so much,” she said a moment later when the fire crackled loudly in the hearth.

  “When you’re ready to enjoy the storms again, you will. It just takes a little time to work through things in life. They say time always heals wounds.”

  She shook her head and frowned. “But the scar always remains. It’s always there to remind you of what happened.”

  Tom nodded. “True. The scar is always there. But the enjoyment you had before is also there, buried inside your heart. If you can find a way to dig it up…”

  He let his words trail off as she smiled warmly.

  “You sure you aren’t a writer or a poet or something? You have a nice way with words.”

  Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe in another life.”

  His breath caught at the way her heated gaze suddenly strayed to where his erection painfully strained against his underwear. He watched her eyes darken with carnal lust in the orange cast from the flickering flames. Darken with a scorching need. Noticed the way she licked her full lips.

  Blades of lightning raced through his long shaft, pumping more pressure into his already swollen testicles. He groaned and found himself stalking toward her as if she was his sexual prey.

  Sh
e didn’t move as she watched him draw closer. Her hungry gaze riveted to his captive erection. He noticed she’d let the comforter loosen—it dropped just below her beaded nipples giving him an awesome view of her luscious globes.

  He sucked in an aroused breath.

  His balls tightened, became taut and sore. His erection demanded satisfaction, craved to sink into her mouth.

  “Sara?” His voice sounded strangled and urgent as it tangled with the rain crashing against the windows.

  She said nothing. Simply stared at his huge bulge as if she was mesmerized.

  Man! The intense way she looked at him had his heart crashing madly against his chest. It seemed as if she wanted to devour him whole. It made the blood in his veins thicken and a roar of erotic sensations flooded his scrotum and cock.

  “It’s been so long since…” she whispered.

  More than two years since she’d had a cock in her mouth? Is that what she meant?

  Her eyes were so wide and eager and glittering with need that his knees weakened and he almost collapsed. And her mouth… Oh, man, her beautiful plump lips were parted and waiting for his thick flesh to slip inside.

  He didn’t know how she got there, but she was suddenly at the edge of her bed, on her hands and knees, her plump breasts dripping from her gorgeous body, her curvy ass in the air and her hot sensual breath splashing against his hard erection.

  “I want to…taste you,” she breathed.

  Wow!

  He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe she would be so willing… Ah, hell, he was wasting time. His fingers quickly curled beneath the elastic of his underwear and he pulled it down over his hips.

  The thin material slipped over his straining cock and she gasped as it sprang free from the material. Her mouth was opening, and then he was pushing his rigid flesh between those pretty lips, sighing as her heated cavern slid against the thick tip of his cock.

  He watched in stunned awe as her mouth closed around his flesh and he felt a powerful sucking on his rod. The searing sensation almost blew his mind. Almost made him explode right then and there. But he held himself under rigid control. It was hard. Real hard not to come as she sensuously explored the tip of his mushroom-shaped cock with her hot little tongue.

  He closed his eyes, only to see all too clearly a vision of him going down on her during their picnic.

  His eyes popped open once again as her mouth moved away from his cockhead and she licked one of his bloated balls. He swallowed harshly as her sharp teeth nipped sensuously at the skin. Awesome sensations shattered his composure.

  “No time for exploring, woman. I need you now,” he hissed.

  Grabbing both sides of her head, he guided her head back to his cock.

  God! He couldn’t hold himself back and when she opened her mouth, he thrust into her.

  She was hungry for him. The frantic way her lips stretched over his rigid flesh, her cheeks drawing in and out as she sucked hard, proved it. She sucked so firmly, he growled at the erotic pleasures that constricted his belly.

  The length of her tongue tenderly caressed the underneath area of his cock. Incredible pressure built along his entire shaft.

  He began thrusting.

  Her succulent mouth smoothed over him expertly. Her hands were fondling his balls now, and he gritted his teeth at the way she squeezed and kneaded.

  God, she was good.

  Her moist mouth continued to seduce his stiff rod.

  His body tightened more. Tensed and coiled with need.

  She sucked harder, drawing his erection deeper into her moist cavern with each plunge.

  Oh, yes! He could feel the orgasm coming. Could feel his control slipping.

  “I’m coming,” he said in a strangled whisper.

  Thunder crackled overhead. Stars flashed behind his eyes as he closed them and went with the oncoming lusty sensations.

  And then his gut squeezed even harder, spasmed with an unbelievable carnal force and he just blew.

  The climax ripped him apart.

  Made him cry out. Made him thrust harder—deeper—faster as he strove for release.

  She kept pace with his gyrations. Deep-throating him, giving him everything his tortured cock demanded.

  She sucked harder. So hard, a deep groan of appreciation was ripped from his mouth.

  “Sweetness!” he hissed.

  His breath caught in his lungs and his hands held her head tighter, her silky curls flowed erotically over his wrists and brushed against his knees. His ragged cries shot through the bedroom as hot jets of sperm spewed down her throat.

  Astonishing vibrations racked him.

  Over and over.

  Slamming through his balls, clenching his cock—her mouth squeezing all his creamy semen from him. And she drank every drop. Whimpering and moaning with every swallow as his jerking cock continued to unload.

  By the time he was finished, her hot hands were curled intimately around each of his balls and she was holding on so tight to him he figured she was keeping herself from falling over.

  He let go of her head and her hot bursts of breath caressed his scrotum and cock. She looked so beautiful with her face all flushed in the buttery light, her lips swollen and red from sucking him into mind-boggling oblivion.

  Something warm and cozy, and intensely beautiful fluttered to life deep inside him. It blossomed and pushed through the black eternity of where his memories should be. Pressed through the layers of puzzling images of those hooker-infested nights he dreamed about, sliced through the visions of him slapping bills into the palms of cops with leering faces.

  Instinctively, he realized he’d never felt this intensely about a woman in his life. And if he had, surely he’d remember such an overwhelming feeling of passion, this overwhelming need to be with a woman, wouldn’t he?

  He shook his head slowly, not quite believing he could feel this deeply about Sara Clarke. Although it wasn’t too shocking, especially considering the fantastic way his heart had twisted the very first time he’d seen her coming up the walk that stormy night he’d fallen asleep on the veranda swing.

  He frowned as she pulled away and slumped back onto the bed drawing the covers over herself.

  No, he couldn’t let this go any further.

  She was a stranger to him. And he was a fugitive. A man without a past. A man without a future.

  She didn’t see anything in him except a lost man who needed a blowjob. It had been her female instinct that made her respond to him when she’d seen his cock straining for relief. That’s all. Just a female instinct.

  To his surprise, a playful little smile tilted up her lips. “I guess I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She was echoing the words he’d said after he’d sucked her pussy following their picnic. Obviously she was feeling frisky, wanting him to join her in bed. Make love to her.

  Shit! He’d screwed up again.

  He pulled his briefs back up.

  Another bolt of thunder shot through the room making her eyes grow wide with fear again.

  “Please, stay.”

  He nodded.

  She made no verbal invitation for him to climb into bed with her, yet he wanted to desperately. The flash of lust in her eyes said she wanted him to. But if he did, he’d mount her. Without a doubt, he would start fucking her. His cock was already growing hard again. His mind already swirling with the carnal visions of what he wanted to do to her.

  But he couldn’t go to her. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave her. He had to stop it here. Stop it before things got so out of hand she developed feelings for him. That’s the last thing he wanted. She was still recovering from the tragedy of her husband getting murdered and miscarrying twins. He couldn’t add to her pain just because he was horny.

  He would stop it right here and now by sending her a message that would be unmistakable. It would hurt her, but a little hurt now was a whole lot better than a lot of hatred later.

  “I’ll stay…but on the cha
ir.”

  The sound of her stunned inhalation stabbed at his heart, making him want to take her into his comforting arms again just as he’d done at the picnic. And look what had happened when he’d done that.

  He gritted his teeth in frustration, and plopped his sorry ass into the nearby armchair and watched her. Watched how the playful smile slipped from her lips. Watched how a sad pouty frown marred her mouth.

  “I can’t let this go any further,” he tried to explain.

  She looked as if she was going to protest, but changed her mind. Instead, she burrowed deeper beneath the comforter and said nothing.

  They both remained silent as the storm tossed around the house. Finally, her eyes fluttered sleepily and she fell asleep.

  He stayed until the storm passed on and the sky began to lighten. Then he left her and took a very long and very cold shower. After getting dressed, he located the master keys on the giant key rack inside the kitchen door. Giving Sara one last look as she slept soundly on the sofa bed, he smiled at the warm way his heart twisted and then headed outside.

  Everything was still dripping and wet from last night’s storm when he stepped onto the wraparound veranda into the cool crisp gray dawn. The air felt damp and misty as it swirled against his bare arms, making him shiver violently. He should go back inside and grab the borrowed flannel shirt he’d draped over the kitchen chair last night, but decided against it. He’d warm up soon enough once he began to search through the contents of the office and the log structure. But first, he headed toward the truck.

  Last night he’d cleared away the tree and branches. And now in the light he could see the damage inflicted on the cab of Sara’s truck. The tree had crashed onto the vehicle—spider-webbed the entire rear window, cracked a side window and wrenched a deep dent into the roof of the cab.

  But the dent could be hammered out and the windows replaced. It wouldn’t look pretty, but the truck would still be drivable.

  He climbed into the vehicle and jammed the key into the ignition. Nothing happened. He popped the hood, got out of the truck and lifted the lid. Some poking and prodding revealed a loose battery cable.

  Retrieving an adjustable wrench from the toolbox he found in the extended cab, he quickly tightened the cable. Finding no more loose connections or visible leaks, he turned the ignition again and let out a tight sigh when the truck roared to life. Maybe, deep down, he had been hoping the truck wouldn’t be repairable, enabling him to stay here in this peaceful place for just a little while longer.