Cabin Fever

by Rye Hart

  My eyes drifted across his thick chest to his nipples, which were dark and hard like little thimbles. My eyes drifted lower, following the little trail of dark hair down his abs and across his belly button. I could see just a hint of black pubic curls peeping at me from the top of the towel.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Maggie Dean,” Tyler said as he measured out coffee beans and scooped them into the top of the coffee maker. “Your cousin said you were a chef at a local restaurant?”

  “Yes, I work at Robert’s Steakhouse on West and Main.” I didn’t mention that I was just a chef-in-training because he probably would have laughed me out of the house. I tried to ply him with other details hoping he wouldn’t dig too deeply in to my background. “It’s a family-run restaurant, Carl and Doris Roberts are the owners. It’s been there like thirty years. The best steaks in town. Do you know it?”

  “I know of it,” he said. “But I don’t think I’ve ever eaten there.”

  “You should. The food is really good.”

  “I’m sure it is,” he said. He pressed a button and the coffee maker started grinding the beans. He looked at me and smiled. “This shouldn’t take long. Honestly, I miss the good old days when all you had to do was dump in a spoon of coffee into a cup of hot water.”

  He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. He stretched out his long legs and smiled at me. I tried to focus on his eyes and not the bulge that seemed to be getting bigger behind the towel.

  “Your cousin said you had taken culinary classes in Denver,” he said. “That’s my home town, you know.”

  “I do, yes,” I said, licking my chapped lips. “I was taking classes at the Culinary Institute on Grand Avenue. Then my mom passed away and I had to move back home to look after my brothers.”

  “How many brothers do you have?” he asked.

  I was a little taken aback by his ability to carry on a casual conversation while wearing a loincloth that was starting to protrude from his body. Oh my God, was this guy getting a boner?

  “Two younger brothers,” I managed to say, trying desperately to keep my eyes from wandering south. “Jimmy and Robbie. Fifteen and seventeen. I’m their legal guardian.”

  “Teenage boys can be tough,” he said, shaking his head. He turned toward the coffee maker and pulled two cups down from the cupboard. He filled them both to the rim and brought them to the island.

  “Cream or sugar?” he asked as he reached across to set my cup in front of me.

  “No, black is fine,” I said, inhaling his scent along with the coffee’s. He smelled like soap and pine. I picked up the cup and warmed my fingers around it. I blew a cooling breath into the steaming liquid, then took a careful sip. It tasted amazing! So this is what real coffee tastes like.

  “It must be hard,” he said. “Raising two teenagers all by yourself.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You can’t be too much older than them.”

  “I’m twenty-four,” I said. I felt my cheeks flush. Jesus, I was blushing like a silly schoolgirl. “And yes, it’s hard sometimes, and they hate me most of the time.”

  “Ah, don’t take it personally,” he said, shaking his head. “They’re teenage boys. Their hormones are raging. Their little peckers are doing the thinking for them now. They won’t have cognitive brain function for at least another ten years or so.”

  I felt my cheeks getting warmer. I glanced at him from over the rim of my cup and smiled. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Hey, if there’s one thing I know, it’s teenage boys.” He took a sip of coffee and let the smile fade. “Trust me, I gave my dad lots of grief. I was hell on wheels, but I like to think that I turned okay.”

  Yes, you certainly did, I thought. I licked my lips and cleared my throat. “So, can you tell me more about the position?” I asked.

  He smiled at the word “position” and I wondered what was going through his mind. Tyler Jenner wasn’t a teenage boy anymore, but I got the feeling that he was still hell on wheels.

  “Sure,” he said after taking a sip of coffee and wiping his lips on the back of his hand. “I plan on using this as my private retreat,” he said, nodding around the room. “Whenever I’m in town you’ll be expected to be here to prepare all of the meals. Some days that may be breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Other days it might just be lunch. It depends on how hungry I am.” He paused to gaze into my eyes. “I’m known to be ravenous at all hours of the day and night, so you would be on-call. Would that be okay?”

  “Um, sure, I think so,” I said, trying to smile. I was feeling a bit like one of the three little pigs, facing down the big bad wolf.

  “Since the position is on-call rather than full-time, you’d be paid a salary of $1,000 a week whenever I was in town, which will probably be six to eight weeks a year for now.” He blinked at me. “I trust that’s a little more than you’re making at the steak house.”

  “It is,” I said with a nod. Jesus, a grand a week just for feeding this guy breakfast, lunch and dinner? Jackie was right. This could change our lives, or at least get us back to even with our creditors.

  “Will it be okay with the old folks who own the steakhouse if I have to pull you away at times?” he asked. “I mean, will they be okay with you working a flexible schedule whenever I’m in town? I don’t want to mess up whatever you have going there.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sure they’ll be fine it.”

  “Good.”

  There was an awkward silence for a moment. I get nervous when no one’s talking so I asked, “What kind of food do you like?”

  “I’m a basic carnivore,” he said, flashing his teeth at me. He braced his palms on the top of the island and his arms roped with muscle. “For breakfast I like eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, coffee, orange juice. Lunch is usually a sandwich of some kind; turkey, roast beef, ham, lots of cheese. Dinner is meat and potatoes.”

  He gave me a playful look and wagged his finger at me. “Do not try to impress me with anything fancy because I do not eat anything I can’t pronounce.”

  He smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. He drained his cup in one gulp, then narrowed his eyes at me and licked his lips. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think it sounds wonderful,” I said, gushing a little. “I can start right now, if you like. You said you were hungry.”

  “Ravenous,” he said, his voice a low growl. He smiled at me again and I knew at that moment, it was too good to be true. He narrowed his eyes at me and showed me his teeth, like the wolf that had just gotten the little pig comfortable and was now ready to rip out its throat.

  Tyler took a step back and let the towel drop from his waist. My eyes immediately went to the thick patch of black curls below his abs and the long cock that dangled from them. His cock wasn’t erect, but it was impressive nonetheless. It hung seven or eight inches long down his right leg. The shaft was thick and veiny, with a round head the size of a golf ball.

  “See anything you like?” he asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest again. “We could talk about other duties if you like. I could easily increase your salary accordingly.”

  I could barely believe my eyes and ears. Who did this prick think I was? I shook my head back to reality and brought my eyes up to his. He was grinning proudly.

  His eyebrows arched. “Well? Shall we talk about a position?”

  Without a word, I slid off the stool and grabbed my parka and started pulling it on. The smile left his face.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “Thank you for your generous offer, Mr. Jenner,” I said as I wrapped my scarf around my head. “But I’d rather starve than work for an arrogant asshole like you.”

  He covered his cock with his hands and gave me a confused look. His voice took on a nasty tone. “This arrogant asshole could buy and sell you, sweetheart.”

  I blinked away the tears and gritted my teeth at him. “No, Mr. Jenner, you couldn’t. Because I’m not for sale.
Not to you or anybody else.”

  I turned and ran for the front door.

  As I was crossing the marble foyer, I saw another man dressed in an expensive suit coming down the stairs with a red head that I was sure worked at the Classic Cat with Jackie.

  The man was counting out hundred dollar bills into the girl’s hand.

  When he saw me heading for the door, he paused for a moment, shook his head, then went on counting.

  CHAPTER FOUR: TYLER

  As a successful entrepreneur, I knew the importance of making a good first impression. Granted, when you’re a billionaire you’re not as concerned about it as a guy who was struggling, but the point is valid, nonetheless.

  Always make a good first impression, they say.

  People judge you by the first impression you make, and you only get one shot at it.

  Well, I’d say that I had made a pretty strong first impression on Maggie Dean. Whether it was a good one or not, remained to be seen.

  My first thought of Maggie was that she wore too many clothes.

  She came in bundled up like an Eskimo, and even when she shook off the parka, I couldn’t tell much about her body.

  She was wearing jeans that nicely-fit her tall, curvy frame, and a bulky sweater that I think was hiding a nice big set of tits.

  Her blond hair was cut short and worn messy. She had a naturally pretty face, perfect lips that curled into an easy smile, and piercing blue eyes that shot into me like lasers when she saw my cock dangling there.

  Sadly, I could only imagine what she looked like underneath all those clothes. And that made me even more determined to find out. Who knew my anaconda would scare her off at one glance?

  * * *

  “Was that your new chef I just saw bolting out of here with the horrified look on her face?” Charlie asked as he came into the kitchen and found me standing at the sink with a fresh cup of coffee in my hands. When he saw my cock hanging out, he scooped up the towel from the floor and flung it at me.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, Tyler, not the old ‘can I stir your coffee with my cock’ routine again? You know that never works.”

  “Sometimes it works,” I said with a shrug, slinging the towel over my shoulder. I scratched my balls and sighed at him. “You get the trash taken out?”

  “Your overnight guest has left, yes,” he said, picking up Maggie’s cup from the bar and setting it in the sink. He pulled down a fresh cup and filled it with coffee, then took the empty seat at the bar. He tugged his iPhone from inside his jacket and tapped the screen.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He held out the phone. “I’m Googling a local employment agency,” he said. “To find you a chef that doesn’t run off at the first sight of cock. I wonder if there are deaf, dumb, and blind chefs.” He paused to glance toward the door. “Hey, maybe the redhead who just left can cook.”

  “She can cook, but probably not in the kitchen,” I said, flexing my eyebrows at him. “Her particular set of skills are much more suited to the bedroom. Or under the table at the strip club.”

  Charlie chuckled as he fiddled with this phone. “So, I’ll call an agency and get some interviews lined up for later today. If you think you can keep the python in your pants long enough to interview them.”

  “No need to call anyone.” I nodded toward the door. “I want her.”

  He frowned at me. “You think you can convince her to come to work for you?” He nodded at my cock. “After you’ve shown her that? You’ll be lucky if she doesn’t file a complaint with the sheriff’s office.”

  “I don’t think she’d do that,” I said. I drained the cup and set it in the sink. “She’s broke, raising two teenage brothers, and doesn’t have a lot of options. She’s a smart girl. She’ll come around, trust me.”

  Charlie rolled his eyes at me. “Trust you? Jesus, Tyler, you flashed your cock at her and she ran out of here like she’d seen a ghost.”

  “Or a monster,” I said with a smirk.

  “Look, I know you’re used to women falling all over you, but that one’s not some lap dancer that’s gonna blow you under the table in a club or fuck you in the back of a Hummer. She’s a nice, local girl. If she goes to the sheriff and files a complaint…” He shook his head. “Look, all I’m saying is, we do not need trouble with the locals, so please, keep the fucking monster in your pants.”

  “Don’t worry, Charlie. I’ll straighten things out with her.”

  “By that you mean that you want me to straighten things out with her.”

  “Duh,” I said with a grin. I slapped him on the shoulder and started to the door. “I’m going to get dressed. The monster is cold.”

  He called after me as I went up the stairs. “Hey, don’t forget, we have to be back in Denver this afternoon for the meetings with the architects on the new project.”

  “I won’t forget,” I said, trotting up the stairs. “I’ll be ready in an hour.”

  I smiled as I went up the stairs two at a time.

  I just needed Charlie to get Maggie Dean back to the house, then I’d do the rest.

  She resisted my first offer, but everyone has a price.

  All I had to do was keep upping the ante and at some point, Maggie Dean would say yes.

  She would be naked and in my bed and begging me to fuck her.

  I’d spent my life pursuing elusive game.

  And I always bagged the prize.

  Always.

  There was no reason why I couldn’t do the same with Maggie Dean.

  CHAPTER FIVE: MAGGIE

  Jackie was looking at me with eyes as big as saucers. She had come by the restaurant after lunch to see how my interview with Tyler Jenner went. I told her it had gone great until he flashed me his cock and asked if I saw anything I liked. Asshole.

  “You’re kidding me? He stood right there in the kitchen and showed you his cock? Who the fuck does that?”

  “Billionaire douchebags I suppose,” I said with a sigh. I picked up another carrot from the bunch on the prep table and started slicing it into perfect quarter-inch cubes for the soup of the day. “Anyway, the goose that laid the golden egg had an attitude and a big dick, so I got the hell out of there.”

  “Damn, girl, he wasn’t interested in laying golden eggs,” Jackie said with a grin. “He was interested in laying some virgin pussy.”

  “Stop it,” I warned her, looking around to make sure no one had heard her.

  “I’m serious. Men like him can smell an untapped pussy from a mile away. Like a shark smelling blood in the water. It’s all part of being a mountain man. That long beard is full of pussy receptors.”

  I grinned and kept chopping. “You’re awful.”

  She looked around the kitchen to make sure we weren’t being overheard. “You know Kat, the redhead that strips at the club?”

  “I do,” I said with a smile. “In fact, she was leaving Big Cock Lodge about the time that I was.”

  Jackie giggled and held out her phone so I could see the screen. “She texted me this morning. That dude gave her a thousand dollars for spending the night with him.”

  “Which dude?”

  “Jenner’s handler, Charlie what’s-his-name,” Jackie said, bumping my arm with her elbow. “Kat said that the mountain man nearly fucked and sucked the life out of her, then this other dude paid her a thousand bucks and called her a cab. Can you imagine that, a thousand bucks to be fucked by that guy? I’d have done it for free.” She tapped a finger to her chin. “Maybe I need to start stripping.”

  “That’s called whoring, not stripping,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Please don’t talk that way around the boys.”

  “The boys aren’t here,” she said. “Kat said he was like some wild animal. He fucked her front ways, sideways, backwards, and forwards.”

  “Sounds exhausting,” I said, pushing the hair off my forehead with the back of my hand. “Now please, I have to work.”

  “Doesn’t that make you want to, you kno
w…” She made a circle with her left-hand thumb and forefinger, then plunged her right index finger in and out of it. “Can you imagine, having your cherry popped by a billionaire mountain man? How freakin’ awesome would that be?”

  “Enough, Jackie,” I said, shaking the knife at her. “My cherry is just fine, so I wish you would stop worrying about it.”

  “Girl, you are missing out,” Jackie said with a grin. “That thing’s gonna shrivel up and die if you don’t use it soon.”

  My cellphone was in the front pocket of my chef’s jacket and it buzzed against my hip. I nodded at the pocket. “Get that, will you. It’s probably the boys.”

  Jackie stuck her hand in my pocket and brought out the cellphone. She slid the screen to answer the call on speaker.

  “What now?” I asked, thinking it was one of my brothers or their school on the line. I typically got called by the school several times a week to answer for something they’d done. I loved my brothers dearly, but I couldn’t wait for them to grow up and take responsibility for themselves. They were making me old before my time.

  Instead, a man’s deep voice came through the little speaker.

  “Miss Dean? This is Charlie Prescott, calling on behalf of Mr. Jenner.”

  Jackie and I gave each other the same dumb look. She bumped me with her elbow again. “Yes?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “Mr. Jenner asked me to inform you that you have the job as his personal chef if you want it. We are heading back to Denver this afternoon, but we will be back in Mountain View on Monday and he’d like you to start then.”

  “Um, well, I don’t think…”

  “Miss Dean. You have Mr. Jenner’s sincerest apology if there was a miscommunication this morning. And you have my personal guarantee that from here on out, your relationship with our company will be totally respectful and professional,” Charlie tried to assure her.