“You look good, Hippie Girl.”
His voice sounded deeper. It made her think of sex, slow, early in the morning, still half asleep, warm, lazy sex.
His comment surprised her, and she blurted the first thing that came to her mind. “You too, look good, I mean, but different.”
A slight smile appeared on his handsome face and her breath caught. Walker was tan in an outdoorsy, natural way, making his white teeth, even whiter. It occurred to her that she had never seen him actually smile before. It warmed her a little bit inside to know that she had been the cause of it.
Gazing up and around, she took in the impressive foyer. Taking her elbow to guide her, she felt the soothing heat of his hand, usually, when he touched her she felt tingles. They passed a huge sitting room off to her right with beamed ceilings, dark, hard wood floors, and to her left were two large French doors pulled shut. Farther down ahead of them another door, standing slightly ajar with a soft glow flooding out into the hall. He ushered her into what must be the sitting room, warmed by a snapping fire, in a floor to ceiling fieldstone fireplace. Hundreds of books filled the built-in bookshelves, lining the walls on each side of the leaded windows, as a book lover Waverly felt a pang of jealousy.
Walker directed her to one of the two leather, overstuffed, sofas facing each other in front of the fire. Settling herself in, he headed over to a well-stocked liquor cabinet.
Drink?”
Grabbing one of the fancy bottles, and splashing some of the undoubtedly pricey Scottish malt into a glass for himself.
“Oh God, yes. My flask is empty,” she teased, letting her eyes wander over his impressive body.
He was dressed in jeans and a v neck sweater. No shoes. No socks. He looked less intimidating tonight, possibly due to the casual dress, however, she found him more jaw-droppingly, attractive, dressed like this. This man was so good looking he surpassed any other man she knew, suit or casually dressed, she found him overwhelming. She should leave immediately.
“What would you like?” Walker asked, interrupting her introspection of him. When she didn’t answer, he turned towards her.
“What? I can’t have done anything wrong yet. You haven’t even been here for a full five minutes.”
“I‘ve only seen you in a suit. I assumed you always wore a suit, that maybe you slept in a suit,” she responded with a smile.
He choked on his drink, “And, I’m glad to hear that you’ve been thinking about what I sleep in?”
His eyes wandered over her, “You look stunning.”
She had chosen a form fitting, slinky, black dress. “Thanks. I had drinks with a friend earlier,” she told him, not wanting him to think that she had dressed for him.
“You needed liquid courage for dinner with me?” He asked, turning back to the bar and finishing her drink.
“No,” Waverly replied shortly, her fingers fidgeted nervously with a seam on the sofa arm until she felt his presence at her side, of her arm, turning to see him holding a drink for her. His hands were very large, callused, roughened fingers held the drink, a memory of how those hands felt flashed through her mind.
“With Benn?” He asked.
Was that a tone she detected? About Benn? She took a sip of her drink, pleasantly surprised to find that it was a Lemon drop. How did he know her favorite drink?
“Yes.”
“I’m sure he tried to tell you not to come.”
She shrugged in response, immediately defensive of Benn.
“He cares for you,” he stated, seating himself on the sofa across from her and stretching out his legs, his drink cradled in his hand. Powerful, he is a powerful man, she thought to herself, in business, his life, sex...
“Always, he... Looks out for me.”
“Smart man.”
“So, beautiful place? Present from mommy and daddy?” Waverly asked, wanting to get away from the topic of Benn.
“More or less. Completely remodeled it from top to bottom, a couple years ago,” he replied.
“Ah, the perks of family money.”
He snorted. She just watched him, sipping at her drink. They certainly came from different worlds. She could not begin to imagine what it would be like to have been raised the way that he was, loving parents, enough money for anything he wanted or needed, unconditional love. Letting out a sigh, she pushed those thoughts away. Looking up, she found him watching her over the rim of his glass.
Abruptly he set his drink down, stood and reached out his hand to her, pulling her up.
“You already have a low opinion of me. I don’t want to be accused of taking advantage of you when you’re drunk. You must be hungry, let’s have dinner.”
How presumptuous, he was, the ‘taking advantage of her’ comment, did not go unnoticed. Sliding her hand into his, she let it slide, for now. He ushered her into a dining room, very moneyed, of course, a Butlerish person appeared immediately, setting plates in front of them. Soon it became a nice, very normal first date, they talked and laughed – actually, she laughed, tried not to babble too much, and he gave a slight smile here and there. He was actually funny, in a sarcastic, droll way, which she happened to love. He asked a lot of questions about Benn, and Kate, and all of the friends, who she considered family appearing genuinely interested in hearing about them.
At times, she did catch him intently watching her, which was a little unnerving and at one point she asked him if she was using the wrong fork. Which brought forth a chuckle from him, and he answered. “No, but who the fuck cares if you are.”
That was surprising and kind of sweet, actually. After dinner, he coaxed her out to his kitchen, where she did get a full on laugh from him when she asked if he was going to make her do the dishes.
It was an offer of dessert, and Waverly was a girl who loved dessert; ice cream, cake, cookies, tiramisu, she loved them all. He seemed pleased when she happily agreed and found herself seated at the island, in a kitchen that was every foodie’s dream.
Walker stood with his back to her, opening an elite uptown bakery box, as he reached up to grab some plates she watched his muscles move beneath his sweater. It was clear that he was a man who took good care of his body and her eyes appreciated it. Taking out two of their specialty, chocolate, white chocolate, cupcakes, he placed them carefully on plates, then slid one with a fork and napkin across the island to her.
Dinner had been light and friendly, but Walker’s mood had changed when he had taken her by hand to bring her into the kitchen – and her thoughts had as well. The atmosphere now seemed charged, darker and tense.
“Thank you,” she whispered, looking up across the island to him.
Her eyes watched his, while she took a bite of the cupcake, savoring the rich flavor. His hands rested on the island top, pushed up sleeves showed off his thick and muscular forearms, she wondered if he chopped wood as a hobby, she wondered what he would look like in a flannel shirt, hot, she bet, no shirt, sweaty….
Leaning forward, he snapped his fingers right in front of her face.
“Hey” Blinking out of her daydream, she met his eyes, such an unusual blue, sort of a dusty, but deep, cobalt blue, the outer ring a bluish black, his lashes dark, not too long, but very thick. He seemed content to just watch her stare at him.
“Do you chop wood,” Waverly blurted out, immediately embarrassed when his brows lifted at her bizarre question.
Another laugh from him, this one a full deep laugh, very warm, it made her warm…all over warm. All. Over.
“Do I what? Where do you go, Waverly, when you do that? It’s like you leave the room and go off to your own little world.”
Walker straightened and walked around the island towards her, focused on her, a predatory approach. She swallowed. Stopping in front of her, leaning his hip on the island, his eyes searched her face. His approach made her nervous, she scrambled for
something, anything, to say.
“I’ve never chopped wood. I don’t have an ax – or wood.”
His eyebrows rose again. Nervously, she noticed that his stare was focused on her lips.
He lifted his hand, rubbing her upper lip with one callused fingertip.
“Yes, I chop wood.”
The way he said her name, so low and thick, drawing it out into three distinct syllables, it melted her and made her heart beat faster at the same time. Frozen, holding the fork in her hand, she was unable to look away from him.
When his large hands cradled her face, tipping it up, with his face paused just inches above hers, her eyes fluttered closed, unsure of whether she did, or didn’t, want him to kiss her. Hearing his rough exhalation, she opened her eyes to find his focus on her mouth. Waverly felt the low sound roll through her entire body.
“Damn, look at you, your mouth, your body, that wild hair. You’re all beautiful and good, makes me want to pull you out of that chair, get my hands all over you, and in you and just fucking drown in you.”
His eyes went even darker, and she was pretty sure that her panties had just melted. Enthralled by his words, the fork she was holding dropped with a clatter from her hand so she could settle her hands on his wrists. Just to touch any part of him, his full lips or his broad shoulders, any part of him, just to make sure that this was real.
“I want my mouth on you. Everywhere. Fuck business. I’m going to have you, Waverly, hard and fast and then I’m going to do it again, long and slow.”
Any rational thoughts she had evaporated, leaving her with just want, for every part of what he said, and more.
“Walker?” She pleaded, her voice shaky.
Pulling her out of the chair and forward up on her toes, until she was completely flush against him, her face tipped up toward his. One hand went to her waist, fingers sliding under her blouse and finally onto her skin. Her hands landed on his chest, to brace herself, everything was moving so fast, her mind was muddled with...him, with lust, with everything.
“Waverly, look at me.”
Her eyes opened, his hold on her was insistent and rough, the look in his eyes was determined. She watched as he searched her eyes for the answer he wanted, questioning, looking for her acceptance.
Suddenly, she was twisted around and bent over the island top, she gasped. She remembered this. His demanding forcefulness, she remembered that she more than liked it, it bewitched her, melted her. Walker placed each one of her hands on the counter top edge, turning her head toward him, her mind on overload from his intensity, she watched him move with such masculine elegance. he’s focused but almost…lazy. As if he has all the time in the world.
Gripping the edge of the island, her head fell forward, he slid his hands roughly down her back to her waist and then squeezed. Slow and heavy they slid down further, then up, up under her dress, pulling her panties down to her knees. Waverly could feel the material cutting into her skin as he kicked her feet apart. She obediently remained where he positioned her, hands gripping the counter top, she heard clothing rustle, then the clink of metal from his belt.
The room was heavy with silence and thick with their combined lust. His belt unbuckling was the only sound other than the pounding of her heart. One hand landed back on hers, their linked hands gripping the counter top edge, holding her breath, she lowered her head to the counter, her body felt liquid, her heart raced, waiting for him.
They shared a groan as every inch of him slid inside of her, his hands tight and strong, shifted back to grip her hips. With a whimper, Waverly raised up high onto her toes, allowing more of him inside of her. Completely surrounded by him, his hands moved around to the front of her hips, causing her to squirm, he jerked then causing her to tighten around him.
Waverly rolled her head, she would think later about why she hadn’t once said not to this. To him. His large, strong, warm maleness, surrounded her entire body. She let out a deep breath.
“Good?” Walker whispered his voice hoarse. Waverly sighed, nodded and let her head drop back onto the island.
“Yes. More, please,” she finally moaned.
Hard and fast, he fucked her just like he said he would, and she let him. And she loved it. He was dominating and commanding, strong hands twisting in her hair, thrusts so forceful she was raised over and over, up on her toes. It was the best sex, ever.
“Waverly, fuck. Fuck, better than I remembered,” Walker groaned, a hand sliding down the zipper of her dress.
Pushing it off her shoulders, his hand weighing and gripping her breast, soft and then rough. She couldn’t speak, every part of her was saturated with him, her eyes fluttered closed. He had taken over, everything was being done on his terms, she relaxed into his control.
Pulling back, he turned her, gently placing her on the island, watching she leaned back on straightened arms. He shoved her legs apart, then was thrusting back inside her. Holding her legs, spreading them wide with his hands on her knees, he ordered her to touch herself for him, so he could watch. She obeyed him, thrilled to see the appreciation in his darkening expression.
“C’mon, Hippie Girl” he growled, peeling his t-shirt off over his head. “Do it for me, come all over my dick.”
“Make me,” she begged him, letting her head fall back, her hair spilling down, almost touching the counter top. Her legs wrapped around his waist now, clutching his body to hers. His hands slid around her, one fisting a handful of her hair, the other groping and squeezing her ass, drawing her into him with each thrust.
She came for him, and on him, a rolling, shattering, release. Leaning into him, her face pressed into him, hands locked around his neck, her fingers twisting into his too short hair. His arms secured her tightly, while she shook and moaned. He held completely still, encouraging her with more erotic words and wants until she finished. With her body still shuddering, he pulled back from her, and with one more deep thrust, he came. She felt his dick tighten, felt his body tighten everywhere, both hands cupping and squeezing her neck. She let her legs, in heels only, drop, and then he folded over her. All of his weight.
Walker pulled back from Waverly, Jesus, he had been so fucking desperate to get inside of her that he had only gotten his pants unbuckled and partly down. He pulled them up and zipped leaving the top button open, then looked down at her. Holy fuck, this woman was even more stunning than the innocent girl he remembered her as, from six years ago. Piece by piece, he had worked his way through removing everything she had been wearing. His beard burn marked her neck, her lips swollen from him, her wild, golden hair was sexed up. Reaching over, he pushed some of that wild hair back off of her face, resting his hand gently on her neck.
“You okay, Hippie Girl?”
Waverly exhaled a tiny breath before hopping awkwardly down from the island.
“Yes, thank you. Could you um, hand me my dress. Please.”
Walker lifted an eyebrow, admiring all of her, but in particular, the blush on her face. How did a woman who just fucked the life out of him, still have the ability to blush like a school girl, he wondered? With gentle hands, he turned her to fasten her bra, brushing a kiss on her shoulder. He watched her wiggle back into her dress, disappointed to see her naked body disappear from him. Unable to keep his hands off of her any longer, he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her entire body up on her toes, her tightly to him.
“All good?” He questioned, nudging her chin up to look down into her gray eyes.
She smiled shakily at him. “Meh, okay. Good, not great, but yes, good.”
“Smart ass,” he replied shaking his head at her.
Turning her around, he zipped up her dress, then unable to resist, slid his hands down over her ass a couple of times. Waverly tried to slide away from his groping hands, but he tightened his grip turning her back to him. Dropping his mouth on hers, he kissed her she pulled back gaspi
ng for breath. Wanting her closer to him, his hands went to the back of her head, pulling her body into him.
Waverly wrapped each of her hands on his forearms, then moved them up his strong arms, her fingertips sliding back and forth over the tattoo wrapped around his left bicep. She felt enveloped by him, drawing in a deep breath of him, the warm, earthy scent of his cologne, their sex, and soap... Just him.
Pulling back to gather her confidence, she smiled teasingly at him, wanting to make sure that he was aware that this was nothing like the last time. She was not running from him frightened or embarrassed by him or the casual sex.
“I like the tattoo, Mr. Rike.”
His eyebrows rose.
Walker’s hands pulled her forward, to cup her face and kiss her once more, slow and warm. This kiss was possessive, hard and rough – she liked it very much. When she moaned, he gentled the kiss, slow, mesmerizing touches with his tongue. Soft and drugging. She could feel his cock ready for her again.
Waverly pulled away, smoothed her hair, rearranged a bra strap, and straightened her dress. Looking up, she found him watching her appreciatively, she reached up to wipe a smear of her lipstick off of his full upper lip.
Giving him a sweet smile, she cooed in her breathiest voice, “Dinner was wonderful, thank you. Would you please call me a cab?”
Walker up to his vaulted ceiling, blowing out a breath then dropped his head down, looking straight at the floor, as he rubbed the back of his neck muttering a harsh, “Fuck.”
CHAPTER NINE
Waverly was staring off into space, her laptop opened and untouched on her lap, Benn was on his way to her office, the door left ajar for him. He bounced in all energy and fresh air, holding the Skinny Mocha she requested.
“You don’t look very busy, you look like you’re off in, The- Wonderful-World-of-Way again,” he pointed out, handing over her coffee drink. She shrugged, sipping her drink.
“It’s a pretty nice place, Benn. I would invite you in, but, so sorry, no boys allowed.”
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