“I see that,” I grin.
“So, where do I park? Around back, so it’s not as much of an eyesore out here?”
I hold out my hand for her keys. “Nothing like that. There’s a covered garage at the side of the lodge. You’re from around here. You know how much snowfall we can get overnight. Trust me, you don’t want to have to wake up and clean all that shit off your Ford eyesore.”
That gets her smiling. “The keys are in the ignition. Knock yourself out.”
Just as I open her driver side door, I get a glimpse of approaching vehicle lights. Our two limos turn into the driveway from the road a few hundred yards away. It’s our Italian imports. As they approach, every instinct in my gut begins to alarm. I have never ignored that little voice in my head, and right now, it tells me that if I want to have a good time with Missy, I need to be as far away from this cabin as possible. Even if it’s for just tonight.
I return to the passenger side and open the front door. “Get in.”
She steps over to me, confused. “What?”
“Get in.”
She looks back at the house. “But, I just got here.”
“We’ll be back soon,” I tell her. In this case, soon can be a few hours, or a lot more, depending on a lot of factors.
With some hesitation, Missy climbs inside. Shutting her door, I get into her cramped driver seat, start the engine, and drive away.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
I don’t actually know, so I tell her, “Somewhere that’s not here.”
Chapter 8
Carter
I take Missy to the resort where we have our hot springs spa day planned. It’s thirty minutes away, so we used some of that time to get to know each other a little. Missy also uses her phone to text her friend and sister. She is much more at ease once her sister replies that she’s enjoying herself, and that she plans to stay, because some guy—probably Jeff—offered her twenty grand to hang out at the lodge while they’re in town. I smile. She and her sister are not quite cut from the same cloth.
This hot springs resort is perfect. I get us a private two-level suite on the top floor. It’s quiet and there won’t be any distractions. I’m not even sure why that matters, but I’m going for pretty much the opposite of the hedonism happening at the lodge.
“You realize that neither of us have spare clothes, right?” Missy points out as we enter the main foyer of the large, three-bedroom suite.
“Yes. I can have our things brought over…if we need it. The bedrooms upstairs all have robes, so we’re fine.” I turn her to face me. “I’m not sure why we’re here. All I’m sure about is the lodge will be too…busy to spend any time—”
“It’s okay,” she cuts me off and looks around. “I understand. This is nice.”
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, taking her coat.
“Sure. Wine, whiskey, scotch, beer…whatever is available.”
While I check out the selection in the well-stocked bar, Missy walks through the suite, checking out each room. She gets to the double sliding doors opening onto the balcony, which has a hot tub and looks out on the lake.
“Great view,” she calls out to me after returning inside some time later.
I bring our drinks to the living room, and she takes her glass. She doesn’t sit. “Where are the bedrooms?”
“Upstairs,” I tell her, smiling. I like the way she thinks already.
“Hang on. I’m just asking because honestly, I need to put my feet up. I’ve worked nine and ten-hour shifts at the diner all of this week. I’m beat.”
I don’t mind the idea of her feet off the floor either. They can be wrapped around my hips, hanging over my shoulders, clamped around my head, or anywhere, as long as I’m between them.
Kicking off her shoes, she heads to the stairs that are closer to the kitchen. I take the whiskey bottle with my glass, getting the best view of her legs and ass as I follow her up to the second floor. I’m throbbing with newfound need by the time we make it up to the master bedroom. Missy sets her drink down on one side of the king-size bed. She disappears in the bathroom. Taking a seat on the sofa near the balcony doors, I sip my whiskey. It’s not the time for overthinking. Maybe she needs this break more than I do.
She returns wearing a robe. It’s open in front. I let out a growl at the sight of just her bra and panties underneath as she takes a seat on the bed.
“Where’s the remote?” she asks, hardly noticing my reaction as she sits there looking sexy as sin.
I walk around to her side of the bed and stand in front of her. “We’re not watching TV,” I inform her.
“No?” she asks. As Missy stares up at me, I look back and forth between her face and my groin area. I take her hand, cupping it over my cock. “This is the only remote you’re getting.”
Eyes on me, Missy picks up her glass, downs her drink, and sets down the glass.
“Let’s see if I can figure out how to work it,” she says, smirking as she shrugs off her robe.
She unbuckles my belt and removes it with a snap, then she tugs at the waistband of my pants. I’m hard as a rock as she reaches her hand inside my boxers and frees my cock. I can barely breathe looking down at her as she bites down on one side of her bottom lip. She’s stroking the shaft as she seems to do an assessment. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, and her hands drag my pants and boxers down.
Her fingers grip the base of my cock again. Opening her mouth, she drifts forward. The tip of her tongue makes contact with my cock head. The hot wetness and that look in her eyes are almost enough to make me explode if I don’t hold myself back. The only way I’ll have an ounce of control right now is if I help her out. Reaching my hand to the back of her head, I lace my fingers in her hair, guiding her mouth up and down my shaft. Each time I pull her back, she licks and swirls at the tip. And as her lips reach as far up my shaft as they’ll go, she moans her enjoyment of the way I fuck her mouth.
“Fuck,” I groan. She sucks hard and doesn’t seem to mind my cock hitting so far down her throat.
My legs shake from the pleasure of her skills, and reminds me I’ve been waiting all day for this to happen.
Her last groan takes me past my limits. The pressure in my groin expands beyond my will, and I give two sharp thrusts as I explode into her mouth. Missy moans with pleasure, swallowing everything that erupts out of me, and her eyes won’t look away. She’s enjoying this more than I’ve ever seen.
Not sure if my legs will keep me standing, I pull out of her mouth. She knows how to work this remote, all right. I’m dying to flip her over and take her from behind right here at the side of the bed, but I try to pace myself. She stretches out in the bed, resting her head on one pillow, and pats the space beside her so I’d join her.
I strip off my clothes, clean up in the bathroom, and get into bed beside her.
“I just need to close my eyes for a bit,” she tells me, dragging the comforter over us.
Pulling her into my arms, I lean down to whisper, “We have a connection, Missy.”
“We do,” she agrees. “And I know it’s not just about this…whatever this attraction is between us. The problem is, it takes time to figure out what the connection really means, but you’ll be gone tomorrow or the next day, and I’ll be here.”
She has an intense look in her eyes as she stares up at me. It’s all true. After this ski trip, we’ll be gambling in Vegas for a couple of days, then we’ll head back to New York. I don’t do relationships, let alone try something long distance. I honestly don’t have an answer for her. All I know is I want to find out more, starting with how she tastes.
Chapter 9
Missy
I’m beginning to think I made a mistake coming out tonight. I’m enjoying myself way too much, and I hate endings before they begin.
I’m usually so good at sinful nights with no remorse the next morning. Yet I’ve barely known Carter for twelve hours, and I’m already going to miss him, wherever he plans
to go. There’s no explanation for why I feel this way. We fucked in a dingy workplace men’s room. I sucked his dick. That’s all. So why is it that my head is telling me to listen to this useless unknown feeling hardwired to my heart. My chest tightens as though we’ve been seeing each other for years. Why the hell is this happening to me?
I look up at him. Something inside me is screaming for me to tell him I’ll take him back to his lodge and put as much distance as possible between us. I’m the one who’ll be left feeling emotionally ruined if I stay. Carter doesn’t strike me as someone who’ll be hurting for my company, or pining for me or any woman, for that matter.
He kisses me as I try to find the words to explain this to him. God, his cologne smells amazing. I’m already aroused, but the scent takes my need up a notch, and soon, my leg is sliding up his calf. I decide right then that I’ll tell him all about how bad an idea it is for me to sleep with him—after I sleep with him.
Carter places his arms around my waist, pulling me in tight against his firm, chiseled, smoldering hot chest. He’s hard in other places too. I become acutely aware that all it will take is a slight tilt of my hips for his cock to reach my folds. Thank goodness I’ve got my panties on, or I might yield to the image searing into my brain, where he takes me hard and with no protection. I’m grateful for my fantasies, but real sex with protection is far more enjoyable than raw, racy, unprotected pretend sex in my head. This is why I’m relieved when he stretches his arm off the bed and pulls out a few condoms from the pocket of his slacks.
Just as I start to think he’ll roll one on in a hurry, Carter puts the condoms on the night table. He parts my legs and cups my pussy with his hand. I’m so desperate to be touched, I grind on his fingers. Something about what I’m up to makes him smile, and he moves down the bed. Just seeing him kneel between my legs makes me want to buck my hips. So much so, that when he ducks his head down and flattens his hot tongue on my clit, I know I won’t last.
And I don’t.
His tongue dips into my center. He licks me right up to my clit and down again, but the second time, when he reaches my sensitive bud, he drives two fingers into my pussy at the same time. I wrap my legs around his head, writhing as he feasts on me. Soon, my ass lifts off the bed, and I clamp my legs around his head, convulsing as he makes me come hard. I’m still tilting my hips up when he grabs a condom, rolls it on, and wraps my weak shaky legs around his waist.
Positioning his cock between my legs, he breaches my folds, pressing hard heat at my opening until he penetrates my slit. I cry out from the sweet sensation, bucking my hips as he moves in and out of me, extending my last orgasm, and sending me to another. I hold on to his muscular biceps for control, but that is one thing I don’t have with Carter. The way my body reacts to him, it’s like throwing gasoline on a flame. It burns as his hands slide up my body. My skin craves more of him as he tweaks my nipples and kneads my breasts. And when his hands return to my waist and he fucks me hard, I have no more resistance, and I whimper out his name as he delivers me to another orgasm.
He placed my legs over his shoulders and sinks inside of me harder than the last few times. Every thrust hits my G-spot. This rolling orgasm drives me insane, but it’s also too addictive. I want more. I want to get that heady feeling as though I came and I’m coming all at the same time, like it won’t ever end and I’ll be up in the clouds forever.
Carter places his hands at my shoulder as he drives into me. He’s so deep inside, yet I roll my hips and can fit him further still. I’ve never felt my body hit this level of pleasure before, and then his body tenses. We ascend higher, crashing over the edge as we come together. My heavy, panting breaths are the only things that stop me from begging him to start all over again. That would be greedy. He lowers onto me, breathing heavily. I wrap my arms around his broad chest and close my eyes, exhausted.
Carter groans as my hand reaches up to his face, grazing the stubble on his cheeks.
“There’s something about you, Missy,” he whispers, covering my hand to hold it in one spot on the side of his face. “It’s like we’ve known each other for… I don’t know, for a long time.”
“We have,” I tell him.
“Sorry, what?” he asks, looking all sorts of confused.
I relate the story that Rosa-Beth shared earlier tonight, and his eyes light up with recognition. Then I add, “I don’t remember any of this. I was really young, but my sister reminded me of how weird I was back then.”
“I do remember,” he says, smiling. “That was really you?”
I nod. “So she says.”
“Your name should have triggered the memory, though. I’m pretty good with names.”
“True, but Dad never called me by my pet name. You’d probably remember me as ‘Melissa’.”
Carter shot up in the bed, turning to look more closely at my face. “Holy fuck…I do remember you…vividly. Melissa George.”
“That’s me. I hope you aren’t too upset that I’ve got no frigging clue about any of this…but it does explain why we…well, you know. Why we’re here.”
“It does.” He’s still staring at me strangely.
“What?” I ask. “Did I like, kiss you or call you my boyfriend back then, or something equally childish? Because you’re kind of weirding me out right now.”
“No, no. But I think our fathers had some kind of falling out. I remember coming up to the lodge and wondering why your father never brought you over anymore. I asked my Dad once, and he said not in a million years. I’ve got no idea why…but, it makes sense now. When I saw you at the diner, you were so familiar.”
I laugh. “Yes. We sure made up for lost time in a hurry. Too bad we won’t have much more time to catch up.”
“What if I hang around for a while? You know, to figure out whether this is just a walk down memory lane, or something else.”
“And by ‘this’, what exactly do you mean?”
He rolls onto his back and pulls me on top of him. “What I mean, Melissa… is I have this urge right now…to throw you over my shoulder and take you back to New York with me. How crazy does that sound to you?”
“The part about going all caveman on me, or the part about New York?”
He smiles. “Both,” he says, running his hands up my arms. His lips press kisses up from my collarbone to my neck, and he whispers, “Be with me, Melissa. New York. Up at the lodge. At your place. Take your pick.”
I smile.
I was sort of hoping for the same thing.
“Well, as Rosa-Beth won’t be home for a few days, how about my place until New Year’s Eve, and after that, we see how things happen?”
“I don’t care where,” he tells me. “I’m just not ready to let you go.”
Neither am I.
THE END
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