“The winter Olympics, yeah,” Dave agreed, warming up. “You ever see footage from the Miracle on Ice?”
“That was the hockey game with the US and the USSR?”
“One of the greatest upsets of all time.”
“I think I saw a documentary about it on HBO.”
That was all Dave needed. He talked Violet’s ear off right up until the game started, all while I went and got her a hot chocolate, while different folks came up and tried to say hello.
“He’s talking up your girl, there.” Helga, an older German woman who taught dance downtown came up and teased me.
“Aw, I don’t mind him,” I assured her. And I didn’t. Dave was harmless. And I kind of liked seeing how sweet Violet was being to him, listening so politely now as he started in on some other great Olympic moments.
“Well, time’s a ticking,” Helga warned me, waving a boney finger in my face. “You snap that one up.” She pointed right at Violet, just in case I had any question as to what she meant.
“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed. Maybe it was the influence of my gram. She’d always been such a large presence in my life, commanding such respect. I’d been taught from an early age to listen to the older women in my life. They almost always seemed to know what they were talking about.
“See that you do.” She left me with a significant nod, and then a saucy wink.
A little hippie organic farmer girl who’d moved into town about a year ago came over and gave Violet a hug like a long-lost friend.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” she sang out.
“I’m excited for the game,” Violet agreed, and she sounded as if she meant it.
“It can get a little violent.” The girl widened her eyes. She’d painted green stripes through her hair.
“OK.” Violet nodded, duly warned.
Crotchety old Fred made his way on by, knocking people he passed with his cane. “Watch where you’re goin’!” he barked at them, stopping from time to time to tip his cap or snarl at certain individuals. It was all or nothing with Fred.
The game started in with a goal in the first minute. Against us. Violet was clutching my shirt and screaming in no time, just how I liked her, only we kept it PG in the stadium, our attention riveted out on the ice.
“Shoot it!” Violet was screaming along with the rest of the fans, not a clue in the world what she was talking about but boy did she mean it. Dave gave her a high five. Apparently her fervor had won him over.
At halftime, Violet turned to me, flushed with excitement, her eyes alive and bright. “I freaking love this game!” she declared.
“Yeah? You a hockey fan now?” I smiled.
“I don’t know about hockey.” She shook her head, “but this game? I love this game.” She gestured all around her. The whole town had come out, not just the siblings, parents and grandparents of players but anyone who knew anyone, and then the ones who didn’t came anyway, too.
“It’s a good crowd,” I agreed, surveying it, the mix of ages, the depth of love for the team.
“Is the entire town here?” she asked, amazed.
“Pretty much,” I agreed.
“Is it like this for every game?” She noticed a middle-aged woman with her face completely painted the team color green.
“Pretty much.”
“Heath.” She grabbed my hand between both of hers. “I know you think I’m crazy, with this reality show. But, seriously, a show here could really work. There’s so much in Watson people would love!”
“You think?” I looked down at her, enjoying her excitement, but still having my doubts.
“I know it!” she insisted.
“Aren’t you worried about ruining it by brining in cameras?”
“They won’t! We have cameramen in town already and they’re not disrupting anything!”
“You do?” Since when had they started filming?
“They’re just getting some preliminary footage, only with a couple people who’ve signed off. And who knows what’ll happen at the town hall Monday night anyway. But I’m starting to get really excited about it, Heath. This could be such a cool opportunity for Watson.”
A cool opportunity? I wasn’t sure about that. But Violet looked so cute standing there beside me, big chunky woolen mittens covering up her hands as she clapped them together and screamed her lungs out for our boys to bring home a win. And win they did, in the final seconds of the game, making everyone in the stands jump up and down like it was scripted out of a Hollywood movie.
§
Violet had mentioned she used to ice skate. But she hadn’t skated in years. That seemed a shame. We had plenty of ice to go around, a couple of indoor rinks within easy driving distance and an outdoor pond that froze over good by the middle of winter.
I picked up a pair of skates for her, nothing fancy, but they’d do. It was easy enough to figure out her shoe size. When she stayed over after the hockey game I’d shagged her so good she’d passed out cold. I had, too. The girl was a potent drug. But Sunday morning, I’d awakened before she had and checked the size of her shoes.
I had to drive a little ways away to find a sports shop that was open. New England had gone a long time since the Puritans, but a lot of places still closed up shop on Sundays. I drove the 45 minutes telling myself I had a few tools I needed to pick up in the nearest Vermont version of a big city.
But I knew why I was driving the 45 minutes. OK, nearly an hour. I wanted to see the smile on Violet’s face when she went ice skating. She lit right up, that one, when she got excited. I was still getting to know her. There was a whole bunch left unshared between us, but I was getting a good feel for her. She held herself together tight. She’d mentioned growing up with a busy single mom and I got the picture. She’d had to take care of herself from a real young age, then moved out to L.A. at 18 and had been hitting the pavement hard ever since.
I knew back in L.A. Violet supposedly did things “for fun.” She hit private parties and clubs and events, the line between work and play at those sorts of things all blurred since the goal was always the same: cultivating an ever-expanding network. But watching Violet unwind over the past few weeks in Watson, it was like watching a flower bloom, all that change happening so naturally and yet unexpected and amazing all at once. It was hard to believe the woman screaming her lungs out at the hockey game last night was the same one who’d tottered into Dave’s bar two weeks ago and ordered an appletini. Next step: ice skating.
I left the box on her front door. I wanted to give the skates to her, not make a big deal about it. She’d know they were from me. I wasn’t trying to go stalker on her, but the gift was about making her happy, not making her give me a hug of gratitude. Though I’d take one.
A few hours later I got a text from Dave:
Your girl’s out on the ice.
That was a small town for you. No one could do anything without everyone knowing. I grabbed my jacket and headed for my truck.
I tried the pond first because it was my favorite spot, and I was right. She’d headed there. Dusk was falling, the sky a rich, dark purple, and the couple of outdoor lights the town had managed to fund blinked on. Suppertime on a Sunday, Violet nearly had the rink to herself, only a couple other families out there on the ice with her.
She looked like she was flying, gliding around on her skates with a huge smile on her face. I’d meant to park and get out, say hello, but instead I found myself sitting there. If I got out and waved, she’d stop skating, and I didn’t want her to have to do that. I wanted her happy, gliding around, lost in whatever world she’d discovered out there on the ice. She must have taken more than a few lessons as a kid. She was good. No triple axels or anything, but she had an easy grace as she swept along the ice and made a few twists and turns that showed she knew what she was doing.
And me, I sat there in my truck and had one of those moments. The kind when you might not know how you know, but you just do. And as I sat there watching Violet in the fa
ding, soft purple light of dusk, I knew. I knew I was in trouble deep.
§
“What’s that on your face?” Dave asked me at the town hall meeting. Monday night, the first of February, and everyone had turned out. The possibility of filming a reality show in Watson was the biggest thing since sliced bread. Bigger, even.
I reached up and wiped my lips. Maybe I had some ketchup on me from my burger for dinner.
“Looked like a smile.” Dave ribbed me as we walked in and found some seats. “Seen that more in the past week on you than I have in the past year.”
I grunted. He might be right. But I wasn’t smiling right then.
Violet was up front and center, her hair all blow-dried out, her heels and full makeup and attitude projecting L.A. powerbroker. I knew her well enough by then to understand that she was nervous about tonight. She’d put on her armor.
But me sitting in the way back, her up there with that coworker of hers, Sam, plus the mayor, it didn’t sit well with me. It reminded me too much of all the shit in between us.
The town hall forum got started up and people started talking, but I’d learned in life to not listen so much to the words people said as to how they said them. First the mayor gave an intro and I didn’t get much out of him, he was all slick polish that one. Or at least he wanted to be. Then Sam said a word or two and if Violet hadn’t been about to speak next I would have up and walked right out. Sam was a snakeoil salesman with a mean, cold glint in his eye. I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could throw him. Probably less. I could throw him a good distance.
Then Violet started talking and the air in the room changed. People went from rustling around and clearing their throats, to still and silent listening to every word. She showed us some footage from around town. I guessed camera crews had been filming. There was our covered bridge with the sunset behind it framing it just so. There was the local brewery, a couple of folks enjoying the mighty fine hard cider. Helga got on camera and had us all laughing as she kept directly dressing the cameraman, asking him nosy questions, completely disregarding instructions about ignoring the filming.
“You’ve got so much to share,” Violet concluded, her eyes glowing, her cheeks flushed. “I hope you give us the chance to film here in Watson. I’d love to help people discover everything that’s so special, so amazing about this town.”
Her eyes flickered over to mine just before she sat down. I gave her a brief nod, letting her know she’d done well. She gave me a relieved smile.
In the debate that followed, it seemed most people were excited about the show. Shopkeepers wanted to expand their businesses. Restaurant owners raved over the free advertising. The mayor, of course, was over the moon.
I knew I was a cranky motherfucker, used to keeping to myself like a grizzly in hibernation. But that was the value of majority rules. Seemed like the majority wanted a reality show in Watson. And who knew, maybe my misgivings had been off base? Maybe I’d been wrong?
“What do you think, Heath?” Harriet was finishing up speaking, saying how much she hoped the town would vote to approve filming the pilot. She’d talked about all of our local artisans and how many struggled to make a living, how a show broadcast to millions could change their lives.
I cleared my throat and stood up, reluctant but understanding she wanted my voice in there, too. I appreciated that she respected my opinion.
“I’ve been worried about what filming a show here would to do Watson. The exposure, the cameras, all the hype. And I’m still worried about it.” I looked up straight at Violet. I could tell she was holding her breath, gripping her water bottle so tight her fingers were denting the plastic.
“But the kind of show Violet’s talking about? I could see that being a good thing for Watson.”
A smile broke out over Violet’s face like sunshine through the clouds. People started applauding and a few hollered out cheers. People wanted this here in Watson. And who knew, maybe they should?
The vote passed soon after, a clear majority sounding out loud and clear. The good people of Watson, Vermont offered up their town on a plate to the Fame! Network to film their next hit reality show Hot Off the Grid.
CHAPTER 15
Violet
Kissing, pulling at each other, grasping hair and jackets, laughing and gasping, Heath and I tumbled into his cabin after the town hall meeting.
“That went—” I started to say something about the forum, maybe thank him for his words of support, but what I did was lunge at him like a new vampire so I could run my tongue along his incredibly strong, corded neck.
“Yeah, you—” he cut himself off, too, cupping my ass with his hands and walking me over to the nearest wall where he crushed me between his huge body and the wooden planks. I didn’t mind being made into a sandwich at all. What a way to go. I wrapped my legs around his thighs and ground against him, my hands up roaming his shoulders, his hair, his neck again. Maybe I was turning into a vampire? I’d never wanted to suck and bite someone so badly.
“I meant to…” Heath fumbled with words as he let go for a moment to fumble with his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them roughly down. “I should have mentioned—” He pulled off his shirt and my mouth about dropped open. Seriously. I’d seen that chest bare many times now but it made me come apart at the seams every time. I’d been on movie sets and let me just tell you, those actors might look good on screen but in person they rarely measured up.
Heath? He was the real deal and then some. I reached up to touch because how could I not? He was like a work of art and a naughty one at that. Heath went to work on my jeans, pulling them apart, down and off with minimal assistance. Like a superhero, I tell you.
He ripped my panties right off. That was like the second or third pair.
“Maybe I should just stop wearing them,” I giggled, running my hands along his insanely delicious abs.
“Now you’re talking,” he agreed, taking my breasts into his large hands and caressing them. “But what I meant to talk to you about—”
I couldn’t help it, I bit his shoulder because it was a like a nice, ripe apple only bigger than a regular apple, more like a freaking watermelon and he completely made me lose my mind.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing me back into the wall again, his hands opening me up, pushing my thighs apart.
I reached my hands out, one grasping his cock, one against the wall to steady myself for his assault. I couldn’t wait.
“No condom,” he grit out.
My eyes opened. “What?”
“Are you protected?” he asked, his bare cock right there at my entrance. It looked so huge, veins bulging along its length, so ready for action.
“Yes!” I gasped. I was on birth control, but my partners always used condoms, too, that was part of the deal. It had never seemed like a burden before. Now, with his bare cock right there bulging and about to impale me, I wanted nothing between us so badly I could barely see straight.
“I’m clean,” he assured me. “I meant to talk with you about this before…when we weren’t…”
I groaned, hitting my head against the wall. Too much talking, not enough fucking. I needed him up inside of me and the thought of feeling him come deep in me, pulsing out into my core nearly made me orgasm on the spot.
“I’m good. Fuck me bare!” I cried out, not able to take any more of this.
“Are you sure?” he asked and I nearly hit him with something, only I would have had to leave his side to get something and there was no way in hell I was going to do that.
“Please, Heath,” I begged, shameless. He brought his swollen crown to my slick entrance.
“God, this is going to feel so good,” he groaned, and I nearly passed out. Until he finally eased himself in, pushing in past my entrance as I cried out in intense ecstasy. An orgasm tore through me as he filled me completely, his bare cock directly in my pussy, sliding in my wet walls, claiming me with nothing between us.
He closed his
eyes and stayed completely still while I came, clawing at him like a wild animal.
“You make it hard,” he grit out, finally opening his eyes as I clung to him, panting. “But this is so good I’m going to make this last.”
True to his word, he fucked me nice and long up against that wall, thrusting into me again and again, using his cock to drill me until I screamed and gasped and begged for it all over again. The feel of him, so massive, supporting my weight with his hands, holding me right there at exactly the right angle to fuck me, kept me completely hostage. I never wanted it to end. Until I could feel it build up in him, tense, his breathing rough and jagged. His balls full as he slapped into me over and over. He needed to come.
“Are you going to come in me?” I breathed, so excited, feeling another orgasm waiting to engulf me.
“You want my come?” he asked, holding my thighs apart with his huge hands as he fucked me relentlessly.
“Yes!” I cried out, already imagining how good it would feel. And then I didn’t have to imagine any more. He shot out his full, hot load like a fucking firehose, right into me and without the barrier, without a layer between us. It was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had. I felt like we were so intimately connected as I could feel each shudder and thrust from him. My body milked him, clutching at him, holding him inside, welcoming every last drop.
Just as I was about to collapse, he picked me up and carried me over to the bed. I don’t remember falling asleep. My last thought was a crazy one. I wished I wasn’t on birth control. That way maybe I could get pregnant and have this big mountain man’s baby.
The next morning, I opened my eyes to his bedroom in his cabin. It had high, vaulted ceilings with exposed beams and a window above the bed, then a wall with three giant windows overlooking the woods and valley below. I felt him stir next to me and wondered if he’d been up a while, holding me while I slept.
I turned to him and smiled. “Morning.”
“Morning, gorgeous.” The sexy smile on him, his bed head messing with his dark, unruly hair, if I hadn’t already been a complete goner, that would have pushed me over the top. It was just the icing on the cake that he made me feel beautiful right when I woke up, no makeup, no hairstyle. I couldn’t help but beam at him.
Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) Page 16