by Piper King
“Taylor Swift. Really?”
She nods. “Always Taylor Swift.”
“How ridiculously cheesy,” I tease her. “I’m not entirely sure I can continue this conversation now that I know your guilty pleasure.”
She swats at my arm playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t have any embarrassing secrets or guilty pleasures.”
“Oh, I most certainly do, darlin’. But I’ll need another dose of whiskey if you expect me to spill.”
“Too bad your glass is empty.”
“Would you two like another round?” Roman asks, crossing his arms across his chest and giving me a hard look. I can tell he’s not a fan of what I’m doing, and I wish I could explain to him that I’m not a fan either. Truth is, I’m realizing that I don’t really like this game very much. It’s dumb. It’s the kind of thing we did back in high school, and we’re a good ten years past that time of our lives.
Maybe this is the last time I’ll take on one of Noah’s dares.
As harmless as it is, it isn’t sitting right in my gut anymore.
I glance at the clock. Even though it feels as though I’ve been speaking to Zoe for mere seconds, my half hour is nearly up. I’m going to have to sneak in Noah’s dreaded pickup line if I’m going to win this bet, but I have a sneaking suspicion that will be the end of our conversation. I’m not really ready for it to be over just yet.
“Yes, please. Two more. And you know what? This one’s on me.” Zoe shoots me a genuine, full-faced smile, and I realize that I really am the world’s biggest asshole. I’ve been told many times before, but now I’m seeing it for myself.
I can’t do it. Not this time.
I’ll never hear the end of it, but at least I’ll be able to sleep well at night. I walked over here expecting to chat up a snobby, cold-hearted sheep who sniffed in open disdain at me, this town I call home, and the bar I built with my own two hands. Instead, she looks as though she fits right in, a happy, relaxed expression on her cute pixie face. Hell, she’s drinking Roman’s damn whiskey and loving it. The warm flickering candles accentuates her soft features, and she’s unbuttoning the top of her blouse for reasons I’m not sure I understand. But I’ll never argue when cleavage is on the menu.
But just because I’m not going through with the bet doesn’t mean this conversation has to end. Maybe I’ll try a different pick-up line on her. A real one. Not some groan-worthy pun that falls out of my brother’s head. Something better. Something that’s all me.
Something that gets her into my bed.
3
Zoe
We down our next whiskeys like shots, and I start giggling for no reason at all. The booze has gone straight to my head, but I sure don’t mind it. Not when I’m staring into the sparkling eyes of this hunk of a man. Sure, he’s cocky. Sure, he’s the opposite of refined. But I feel a warmth in my belly I haven’t felt for a very long time.
Probably the whiskey.
But I think Jamie here might have something to do with it, too.
“You know what they say about Bar Wilde?” He drops his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. With a grin, I lean in closer, and our foreheads touch. Warmth radiates from my skull, and my breath quickens in my throat. Now that we’re so close, the scent of him surrounds me.
I hadn’t been wrong. He smells earthy, almost like he came from the ground itself. It mixes with his whiskey-laden breath to create an intoxicating scent I like a hell of a lot more than I expected.
Wait, that’s wrong. I don’t just like it.
I love it.
“Tell me what they say about Bar Wilde,” I finally say in an equally low whisper, feeling a breathless anticipation of his next words. If the past half hour or so is any indication, I have a feeling I’m going to love what he has to say.
“Go wild or go home.” His hand shifts closer, his knuckles grazing my knee. I shiver. It seems so lame to have such a strong reaction to something so meaningless. His hand isn’t even on me. We’re barely even touching. But I can’t help it. “And since your home is miles and miles away, you only have one choice. Don’t you think?”
Is he saying what I think he’s saying?
He lifts one finger and places it on my knee, all the while keeping his gaze locked on mine. The finger slides higher until it hits the edge of my skirt, and then he slips it underneath the material. He doesn’t go any higher. His long finger just rests there on my thigh, burning me up inside. It’s enough of a move to communicate to me exactly what he means by his words.
Nope. I hadn’t been wrong.
This guy wants to fuck me.
And truth be told, I want to let him.
Wait a minute! My mind tries to screech my overactive hormones to a halt. I’m not a one-night-stand kind of girl. I’m a to-have-and-to-hold fan myself. Never in my life have I gone home with a guy I’ve met at a bar. No wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am for me.
But why? It’s hard coming up with logical reasons to walk away, especially with the whiskey swirling through my veins and relaxing all my usual tightly-wound inhibitions. First, I’m only in Redwater for a week. If I’m ever going to have a fling, it should be in a situation like this, where I don’t have to worry about running into him any time I want to go to Happy Hour after work. Second, screwing someone else seems like a great way to forget about Marcus and his stupid BDSM tendencies he hid from me the whole time we dated. And the cheating I found out he did every time I wasn’t looking.
And third. Well…this guy is just really super hot, okay? And I can tell by the way he’s lightly stroking his finger across my thigh that he would be an excellent companion in bed. I mean, his hand is practically electrifying me.
He builds things with those impossibly warm hands.
That takes precision, patience, care.
I bet he really knows how to use those hands in more ways than one.
I mean, already there’s a wet patch between my legs.
“And how exactly does one go wild?” I lick my lips and give him my best sexy smile, my boldness fuelled by adrenaline, hormones, and more than a dash of Wilde’s Whiskey.
His smile widens before it flickers with something that resembles uncertainty. That’s different. Ever since this cocky alpha approached me, he’s been exuding confidence and arrogance, like it’s an inevitability that he’ll get me into his bed. The fact he’s hesitating does the opposite of what I’m sure he expects. To him, it’s a weakness. To me, it’s a strength.
And I only want him more.
“How do you feel about a walk?”
I lift an eyebrow. “A walk doesn’t sound very wild.”
“Trust me.” He hops off the bar stool and holds out a hand. “You won’t find anything like this on Fifth Avenue.”
I look him over. His old faded jeans hanging low on his hips, showing off just a hint of the perfect V leading down to an unmistakable bulge. His wild and messy hair. His sun-kissed forearms that ripple when he moves. He’s relaxed and calm but exuding a strength that takes my breath away.
No, there’s nothing like him on Fifth Avenue, that’s for damn sure.
I slip off my stool before I know what I’m doing and slide my hand into his. “Show me the way, Connecticut Cowboy.”
Did I just say that out loud? The whiskey has given me more than just boldness. It’s made the thoughts in my head fall right off my tongue.
He arches an eyebrow and laughs. “Connecticut Cowboy? I build things, Zo. I don’t go around wrangling bulls and lassoing horses. Hell, my own dog has me trained more than the other way around. Sometimes I think she’s the owner, and I just live in her house ‘cause she lets me.”
I don’t miss the fact he called me Zo with one-syllable instead of Zoe. It’s only what my closest friends call me, but I find that I don’t mind it coming from him.
“Yeah, but it suits you.” I smile at the idea that his dog is the boss. Another checkmark in the endearing column.
We head out into the night, and my skin is elect
ric, abuzz with the possibilities of where Jamie might take me. An hour ago, I would have laughed at that. In a town this size, there aren’t many options, but with his warm hand in mine and the moonlight glinting off the quiet streets, it feels as if this town has opened up before me.
The air is crisp and clear. I breathe in the scent, a mixture of flowers and freshly-cut grass. No Chinese leftovers stuffed into trash cans. No metallic Subway tracks. No puff of exhaust fumes from taxis clogging the streets. Everything is calm. Everything is still. The buzz of crickets surrounds us like a rural orchestra.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jamie staring at me.
He smiles and begins to lead me down the sidewalk away from the renovated red barn that is home to Bar Wilde. “You sure you don’t want to stay in Redwater longer than a week? I’ve got to say, it looks good on you. Wouldn’t you rather live in a place where you don’t have to lock your doors? Where you can see the Milky Way on a clear night?”
“I can’t. I’m here on business,” I admit, glancing away. For some reason, I don’t want him to know why I’m here. The bartender, Roman, knows the Hall Brothers. Jamie likely will, too. And I don’t want to be known as the girl who swooped in and stole the hometown boys’ business away. Right now, I’m just Zoe. I don’t want that to change.
He pauses slightly. Frowns. “What kind of city business would bring you to a rural place like this?”
My heart begins to hammer a little harder. I really don’t want to say. I’m afraid if I do, then the magic of the evening with disappear into the clear, star-filled sky above.
“Let’s not talk about work. It’s boring, and tonight isn’t about being boring.” I squeeze his hand and step in close. So close that our chests brush. So close that our breaths mingle as one. “We’re on a mission to be wild.”
4
Jack
Damn this girl and her talk about being wild. It makes me want to see just how wild she can get. Her eyes are bright and sparkling. Her hair is frizzy and full of waves in the humid night air. Her cheeks glow pink under the moonlight. Part of that might be the whiskey, but I’m pretty damn sure that she’s breaking free of her boundaries and letting out who she really is deep down inside.
Carefree.
“Alright,” I drawl. “No more talk about work on one condition. You see that cluster of trees behind the diner two buildings down?”
Her eyes dart to where I’m pointing. It’s a dark spot, set back from the illumination of street lamps. But there’s not a single moment of hesitation from her. “Yep, I sure do.”
“You have to beat me there.” I cross my arms and smile. “I’ll give you a ten-second head start to be fair. What with your heels and all.”
“Ten seconds?” She raises her eyebrows. “You’re going to regret that.”
She slips out of her heels faster than I can blink, and she’s off, her shoes dangling wildly as she takes off across the grass toward the trees. Her hair streams behind her, and her blouse gets caught in the wind. She’s a blur of laughter and flailing limbs, and I can’t manage to do anything more than grin.
I know I’m supposed to be counting to ten, but I don’t want to win.
I want to see the exuberance on her face when she gets there before me.
By the time I start to jog after her, she’s only feet from the finish line. She slows to a stop and whirls to find me trailing behind, and her fist goes into the air with a whoop. And then she starts to do a jig of victory, completely unaware of the grass and dirt getting caked onto her hose-covered legs.
Who the hell is this woman?
And what’s more than that, why does she have to live so damn far away?
“I beat you,” she singsongs when I finally reach her. There’s that exuberance I was after. It might be nighttime, but I swear the sun is on full wattage where she stands. Her lips curve into a sensual smile, and fuck it I can’t wait even a second longer.
“That you did.” I wrap my arms around her back and yank her to my chest. The laughter dies from her lips. She’s wide-eyed and trembling, and I can tell she’s just as nervous as she is hopeful. And the strange thing is, so am I. “Would you like to know why I brought you here?”
She swallows hard, then nods.
With her soft hand in mine, I lead her into the trees. There’s a patch of grass on the other side behind a gazebo, away from the prying eyes of anyone still out and about in town. It’s one of my favorite places in all of Redwater. The moonlight spills down from above, and the buzz of crickets deafens the noise from the bar. It’s as if we stepped out of Redwater and into a world of our own.
“I figure there’s nothing wilder than fucking on the ground underneath a sky full of stars.”
I just went for it, didn’t I? And why the hell not? No need to dance around what we both clearly want.
“You want to fuck me…here? On the cold hard ground?” She stares at me with a strange expression.
Shit. Have I read her wrong? Hell, I have to admit I did go pretty fast from challenging her to a race to suggesting a round or two (or more) of sex-on-the-ground. Her expression is sensual and inviting, but maybe I’ve jumped to conclusions I shouldn’t have. She probably has whiplash from how quickly I’ve changed the tone.
Still, I press on. Because I’m a man and I want her, and she’s only here in this town for a week. It might be my only chance to explore her body the way I really want. “On the ground. Up against a tree. Hell, we can even go in the tree if that’s what it takes to turn you on. Whatever you want from me, Zoe, it’s yours.”
“We don’t need to climb a tree for you to turn me on, Connecticut Cowboy,” she whispers as she presses her hot little body against me.
And that’s all the encouragement I need.
5
Zoe
This is by far the sexiest moment of my life. We’re in a private patch of trees behind the town gazebo, and the dark sky is awash with stars. It feels as if there’s no one else in the world but us, though there’s enough danger in what we’re doing to electrify my pulse. I only just met this man, but I feel more drawn to him than I have anyone else, even more than Marcus who I thought ruled my heart once upon a time. Add a dash of potentially getting caught, and I’ve never been more turned on in my life.
I wish I was wearing something a little thicker than hose because my arousal has completely coated the thin material. If I’m not careful, it’ll drip down my thighs.
He slides his fingers into my hair and grips tight, pulling back my head and exposing my throat. His tongue dashes across my skin, and my entire body becomes alive. My hands are on his chest, on his back, on his crotch. All the pent-up frustration from the past few months of my life come pouring out of me and spill onto this perfect specimen of a man.
Because he truly is perfect. No, he’s not my usual type but that makes me want him even more. He’s not cool, calm, and collected. He’s different. He’s rough and tumble. He’s wild and free. And he’s as hot as a shot of whiskey on my throat.
His mouth lands on mine in a fierce kiss that matches my need. I bite his bottom lip, and a thrill goes through me when he growls in response. There’s something guttural about the way he’s gripping my hair, the way he’s digging his fingers into my ass, the way he’s diving his tongue into my mouth. So, I wrap my arms around his thick shoulders and climb up him like a tree, slipping my legs around his hips.
Somehow, his hands have found their way up my skirt, and he rips my hose in two. Now it’s just my wetness rubbing up and down his crotch. A crotch that is hard and big and throbbing, I might add. Lust fills my head as his hand slips between my thighs. Oh my god, he’s touching me. Oh my god, do his fingers feel good. He slides a finger against my clit, and my entire body shudders so hard I think he might drop me.
“Zoe,” he says in a voice thick with need. “Holy shit, you’re wet.”
“You made me this wet,” I say coyly. I’ve never been one to talk dirty. Which might explain why Marcus
deemed it necessary to cheat on me. But Jamie is bringing out a very different side of Zoe Austin. One who wants to whisper words of seduction in his ears. “I can feel how hard your dick is through your jeans.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” he says. “How ‘bout you feel it without the jeans involved?”
Heart pounding, I climb off him and unzip his jeans. Out comes the most exquisite cock I’ve ever seen. And he’s big. He’s very, very big. My eyes go round, and my mouth parts, and he drags a rough finger across my bottom lip.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he says in a gruff voice. “Get down on the ground. I’m going to make you come.”
My back meets the grass, and he drops to his knees. With a wink, he spreads open my thighs and drops his mouth on my clit. I shudder, a loud moan escaping from my throat. He licks and sucks and laps me up as if he’s never tasted something as good in his life. Tremor after tremor tears through me. I’m a writhing mess on the ground, and every lick feels as if it’s the one that will send me over the edge.
My pussy clenches tight.
“I’m going to come,” I pant. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I’m coming. Oh god, I’m coming.”
I explode underneath his tongue, bucking my hips against his mouth in an orgasm stronger than I’m sure I’ve ever had. Everything is a sweet, sweet blur of light and sound, as my orgasm pulses and pulses and pulses. It feels as though it lasts for hours instead of seconds.
“Someone sure looks happy.” Jamie pushes up from the ground and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He grins. “I wonder if we can go for a double.”
A double? Yes, yes, yes a million times. I think this man could make me come twenty times, and I wouldn’t be done. His tongue is magic. Though I think he has something other than his tongue in mind…