I’d never known. How had I been missing the boat? Well, I was on the boat now, and I wasn’t planning on getting off any time soon. Getting off, but not getting off.
“Mmmm,” I groaned, working my hands down his big, broad chest. Such definition. He was like a sculpture, the Great American Male, his pecs and his ab muscles so rigid and defined. And lower, that huge bulge. He groaned as I found it, caressing its powerful length underneath his jeans. He was gigantic. Epic proportions. I gazed down at the size of his shaft bulging through the denim, still clothed, wrapped up, but I wanted it out.
My mouth down again to his throat, I kissed, sucked and my fingers snuck over to the button at the waistband of his jeans. I wanted into that playground. But even my fingers lost their determined path as he took my breasts into his mouth again, sucking, licking, devouring me just the way I needed.
“Heath!” I cried out as he brought his hands down to my hips and ground me against him, thrusting up against me as he sucked on my nipple. “Oh!” I could only steady myself by clutching his forearms, so freaking big and corded with muscle, as he brought himself up again, his long, solid shaft hitting me exactly where I needed it. I was so slick, so needy, even though we both still wore our jeans. It was like high school, making out in some guy’s car, only no high school boy had ever made me feel anywhere near like this.
I had to have him up inside of me. I had to have it now. I could imagine how good he’d feel, how he’s sink up into me, how wide he’d stretch me. It would probably be hard to take him all the way in, but I was so wet and I wanted it so badly I bet I could do it, work myself down on him and then we could fuck, right there, in his truck, me on his lap. I’d probably come in 60 seconds, then again and again.
“Fuck.” That swear from Heath took on a decidedly different tone. Frustration, anger. He used those amazing, broad, powerful hands to pull me exactly where I didn’t want to go, up and off of his lap, back into the passenger seat. He reached down and grabbed the first thing he could find, my enormous parka, and threw it over my chest.
“Put that on,” he growled.
“What—?” Confused, dazed and disappointed, I then saw out the window the figures of two men walking to their trucks. Parked a few feet away from the truck where we went at it, humping away, me topless and close to orgasm. Shit. I pulled the parka around me, managing to slip my arms into its depths and tugging the rest around me like a blanket. Had they seen anything?
The men stopped for a second, talking to each other. Then one headed into his truck and the other into his. Neither looked our way. I exhaled. Didn’t seem like they’d seen us.
“Jesus.” Heath ran a shaking hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. I looked down at my lap, swathed in parka. What had almost just happened? It had been like a tsunami of lust, crashing over us and sweeping us away. I’d experienced big waves before and thought they were really big, as big as they got. Turned out I’d been in the kiddie pool.
“That was…” He rubbed his hand against his chin, looking out the window to his left. Away from me.
I nodded, my hands pressed into my thighs as if to steady myself even though I was sitting down. I felt like I’d just stepped off of a ride on a roller coaster.
“I don’t think they saw you.” He shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from a foggy dream. “Damn, I didn’t mean to—”
“I don’t think they saw anything.” I didn’t want him beating himself up over it. I’d jumped him as much as he’d attacked me.
“Right.” He brought his hands to the steering wheel. He cleared his throat. I looked out the window to my right.
Frustration seething through my body, I told myself it was a good thing that those guys had walked past us. They’d provided a much-needed dose of reality. It didn’t work to get blinded by passion. That never played out well. It had felt really fucking good, but who was this guy, really? I shouldn’t get so carried away with him. It wasn’t like me. I must just feel disoriented from a long travel day. Better to cross my legs and let him drive me the ten minutes to my condo. Then I could climb into bed and give myself the blisteringly crazy intense orgasm I could still feel I desperately needed.
“That was, um…” He paused again, still gripping the steering wheel tight. Then he seemed to get a grip himself. “That won’t happen again,” he declared, turning the key decisively in the ignition.
“No,” I agreed, sounding equally firm. You know what else had felt firm? Hard, solid as a fucking rock? And it had felt so good, the seam of my jeans pressing into my swollen, slick clit as I’d ground down onto his cock.
Exhaling, I laced my fingers through my hair, clasping it all behind me into a ponytail. I didn’t have a holder, though, so I let it fall again down my back. Staring out the window to my right, away from him, I focused on the scene outside. The snow-laden street, the quaint red building with the porch and a sign outside hanging from two chains proclaiming “All You Need.” It looked like a classic country store, the type that might sell homemade jams from an orchard around the corner and fudge made by grandma down the street.
All you need. Interesting concept. Why was my heart sinking as he drove me swiftly through the storm along a dark, wooded street? He was taking me where I needed to go, my condo. Then I’d be back in the saddle. I could take a hot shower or a long bath, soothe my frayed nerves, unpack my things the way I liked them and attain a sense of order once again.
Because what had just happened in his truck? That had been disordered. Not on the program. I didn’t know what the next few weeks entailed, but Heath was not on the menu.
He’d be great for the show, though. I could picture him like Channing Tatum in Magic Mike XXL, in his workshop, shirtless, maybe wearing some kind of a metalworker helmet. We’d have ratings through the roof.
That feeling that he was mine all mine? That he was the candy and I was the only one who got to unwrap him? I’d just have to tamp that down deep.
CHAPTER 4
Heath
They’d almost seen her, walking over to their trucks. How had I gotten so caught up I’d almost done that to her? Exposed her like that? That was just plain stupid and careless. I knew those guys. They worked down at the lumberyard. They weren’t bad guys, but they weren’t the type you wanted seeing your woman’s naked breasts.
Not that she was my woman. But those naked breasts of hers. Hot damn. Clutching the steering wheel, I focused on the road ahead. This storm wasn’t anything I hadn’t seen before, and I knew the way like the back of my hand. But her breasts were still so close, within arm’s reach. Buried underneath that ridiculous parka, but still, I knew she didn’t have a shirt on. Just a zipper between me and paradise.
Seated next to me, she pulled out her pink rhinestone cell phone and tapped at it with her manicured nails. Not my type. Hadn’t I told her exactly that? Right before I’d attacked her in the cab of my truck.
I shifted my weight in the seat, the zipper of my jeans pressing uncomfortably against my rock hard cock. What the fuck had just happened between us? I’d always enjoyed women. I was a big man with a healthy appetite. But that was next level.
Sure, I’d been leading a solitary life, but that wasn’t because I didn’t like sex. The only reason I’d abstained so much was all the complications surrounding intimacy. I knew some guys who could fuck for sport, no problem with one and done. That hadn’t been my experience of it, though. The women I’d been with, I wanted to be with, but that was difficult to manage when what you wanted most was solitude.
Typically, my need to get away from it all easily won out over my need to be with women. I’d had a couple of starts of something over the past few years, but I’d never felt the pull too strong. Letting someone get close to me, there was a lot at stake. A lot to lose. No one had seemed worth the risk.
But I’d never felt anything like I had just then with Violet. It didn’t make sense. I’d only just met her. But holding her, kissing her, sucking her breasts and feelin
g her grinding against me, it had felt like drowning, only I never wanted anyone to throw me a life preserver. The way she responded when I touched her, how I could feel her shaking with need, shivering at my touch, gasping and clawing at me.
I would never have guessed. She was so put together, so done up. I’d have thought she’d be restrained, too worried about messing up her hair to lose herself. What if she chipped a nail? But she hadn’t shown any of that. She had an electric current pulsing through her. It was as if she’d tried to button herself up, keep herself under wraps. Now it was my job to let the wild woman out.
Sitting together, mostly clothed, I could tell she’d gotten so close. As she’d bucked against me with such abandon, I could smell her, her desire, so sweet and needy. I needed to get my fingers on her, unbutton her jeans. She’d be so wet for me. It would feel so sweet to dig my fingers in, slide them along her, find her clit, watch her toss her head back and come like she needed to. She’d be so beautiful. That scream she’d made when I’d bit her perfect nipple, so hard and aching for my touch. She’d scream just like that, mashing her sex down on my fingers, and I’d milk that orgasm from her, dragging it out, showing no mercy until she sank down into my arms, spent.
“I think you need to turn right here.” She pointed out her window at the road I drove past.
Damn it, she was right. The one bar of service on her cell phone was giving her access to GPS and that seemed to be functioning better than my brain just now. A computer didn’t get turned on. A GPS system could sit right next to a gorgeous woman raring to go and still process decisions like turning right.
I made a U-turn and found my way back to the road. We were only a couple of miles away from Gary’s. I could suggest she call him, make sure he was home and ready for her to stop by and pick up her key. Only she probably didn’t need to. Gary was an older married man, set in his ways and not likely to venture out in a snowstorm without a damn good reason. And maybe part of me, just part, hoped there had been a damn good reason. Because if he wasn’t home then she’d have nowhere to stay. Except back at my cabin with me.
“How long are you in town for?” I wondered aloud. Would I be seeing her again, picking her way along the ice and snow-covered sidewalks downtown in her heels? Walking into a bar as I tried to pass the time shooting the shit with a buddy? She’d be a lot harder to stay away from if she stuck around.
“Not long,” she answered, and I felt relieved and disappointed all at once. I tried to go with the relief. Chances were I wouldn’t even like this girl if I got to know her. I already knew she was impractical, reckless and had spent more on her appearance at that moment—hair, nails, clothes, skin, jewelry—than I had in the last month.
Skin. She had great skin, so soft, like the petals of a flower. And she smelled so good, sitting close to me in the cab of my truck. I could still hear the sounds she’d made as I touched her, the moans and pants. The way she squirmed on my lap, trying to get closer, like even the slightest distance from me was too much.
What would it be like to get more of her? To have the time to lay her down and play? To explore every inch, take the time to enjoy her, taste her. The way she almost got off so hot and fast on my lap, I wondered how crazy I could make her if I treated her right.
“You around tomorrow?” I found the words slipping out of my mouth before I’d thought twice about asking. I shouldn’t ask if she were around tomorrow. I had shit to do. Like not spend time with a crazy L.A. girl who was nothing but trouble.
“I um…” She fiddled with her thin gold necklace, playing with the delicate chain between her fingers. She did that when she was nervous, I could already tell. I seemed to make her nervous. I couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. “I have a…Sam is coming to meet me. He’ll be here tomorrow.”
Right. Her boyfriend. Why the hell he’d let his girlfriend drive up by herself in a MINI convertible in the middle of a storm on a Saturday night beat the hell out of me. But it made sense that she had a boyfriend. She had to have men beating down her door every goddamned night. Sooner or later she’d let one of them in. I felt a strong urge to punch this boyfriend right in the face, but what I should be feeling was freedom. I was off the hook. I wasn’t going to cheat with her on him. Sneaking around, violating people’s trust? I’d seen enough of that shit to last a lifetime. No thank you, not interested.
“Sam and I work together,” she added.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
“Oh God, no!” She burst out laughing. “Sam’s gay as a pancake!”
Never heard that expression before. But I figured I knew what it meant. Still, I had to ask, “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No. I mean, not really. There’s a guy, but…”
My hands tightened on the wheel again. There was another man who got to touch her, hold her, do all of the things to her I could picture so clearly? That wasn’t right.
“But he’s… I don’t know. It’s not, we’re not exclusive. It’s casual, you know?”
No, I didn’t know. Casual was not in my vocabulary. And it never would be with this woman. Who the hell was this asshole?
“Why are you with him if he’s not treating you right?”
“He’s treating me right.” She sounded so defensive. Sitting up straighter in her seat, she turned to face me, her breasts completely bare underneath that gigantic parka. “You make it sound like it’s some kind of abusive relationship. He’s a lot of fun. And he’s a model.”
I snorted. Now there was someone I really did want to punch in the face. “Did he call to make sure you got in safe tonight?” I asked, already betting I knew the answer.
“No, but—”
“Then he’s not treating you right.”
“I… It’s not…” She huffed and puffed but couldn’t come up with exactly the right answer. I knew why she couldn’t. Because the world was full of idiots and it seemed like she was dating one of them. Or not dating, having fun, some kind of bullshit like that. Either way, it made no sense to me. She said it wasn’t exclusive. Was the man a complete moron?
I’d taken drastic measures to get away from that type, the players, the superficial spotlight seekers all out for themselves no matter the consequences. I’d left all of that behind. It had taken a hell of a lot to break away, create a whole new life on my own terms. I’d devoted the past four years to it, burying myself in this tiny Vermont town. Now I had things just the way I liked them. My simple life.
Gary’s place was just up the road. Almost time to pull up, park, and let this woman out of my life for good. There were so many reasons to stay away from her.
Too bad I could picture the opposite so vividly, how if I took her back to my place we’d barely make it to the door of my cabin we’d be so busy tearing into each other. We wouldn’t even get to the bedroom. I’d take her right there on the floor, fucking her hard while she came, screaming like she’d lost her mind.
I pulled over. I could have parked closer. Gary had a driveway, but I stopped my truck down a ways from it. I told myself it wasn’t because I was about to reach over and pull her against me, kissing her like I couldn’t get enough.
But then I reached over, pulled her against me and started kissing her like I couldn’t get enough. She met me right at it, like we’d never stopped, like we hadn’t just been saying it wouldn’t happen again.
“We can’t do this,” she panted, kissing my throat and sliding her hands under my coat to grab hold of my shoulders.
“No, we can’t,” I agreed, grabbing hold of her hips and bringing her right back where she’d been before in front of the bar, right where she fit like a fucking puzzle piece, so good right against me. With a deep moan, she pushed her pussy against me, needing the contact, wanting more.
I licked her neck, sucking her sensitive skin. Just one more sip of her nectar before I swore off. My mouth found hers again and I drank her in, our tongues meeting, teasing, stoking the fires higher as she moved against me. Hands on her hip
s, I rocked her against my erection and she moaned, her eyes rolling back. She gripped my shoulders like she was on her favorite ride, holding on, wanting to make sure she stayed on no matter how wild it got. She shifted her position, spreading her legs wide, pushing her pussy against the bulge in my jeans.
“You feel how hard you get me?” I moved against her, my solid shaft hitting her in a spot so good she moaned. Grabbing her hips, I brought her there again and she panted. “That feel good?” I asked in a low voice.
“Oh yes.” Her voice came out jagged and breathy. She needed to come, I could tell she did. She needed it badly. My fingers were so close. Moving slowly, my eyes fixed on her gorgeous face, I brought my thumb down to the seam of her jeans. Fuck, I could feel her wet heat. I pressed against her and she gasped, her perfect plump lips opening with pleasure.
Knowing right where to get her, I pressed again, stroked, pressed. The sight of her moaning, flushed, and pushing into my thumb nearly did me in. I had to feel her, and not just through her jeans. I needed to feel her slick sweetness, coat my fingers in her arousal.
“You feel so good,” I told her, giving her another stroke. With my other hand I unzipped that parka, giving me a glimpse of those perfect breasts again. I wanted to keep watching her, though. Her intense response was like a drug. So I didn’t move my mouth back to her chest. I cupped one of her breasts in my hand, squeezing it as I slowly worked a good rhythm down through her jeans. She whimpered, grabbing onto me, fisting my shirt in her hands, her eyes closed, her teeth biting down on her lip.
“I want to make you come, Violet,” I said, stroking her wet heat. She moaned in response, pulling at my shirt. “Would you like that?” I asked.
Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) Page 4