by J. B. Havens
“It works better when you paddle on both sides.” He teased her, enjoying how red her face was.
“Thanks for the tip, smart ass. I fucking knew that. I’m more worried about not fucking falling in, but thanks, though,” she smarted off, glaring over her shoulder at him. Meg’s kayak was still wobbly and every time it swayed, she let out a little scream. She slowly got the hang of balancing and paddling at the same time and eventually evened out, moving slowly in a straight line. She rowed steadily, heading to the other side of the lake. He followed along, but not too close. He wanted to give her space to really enjoy being on the water. It was if they were in another world. No noise pollution from traffic or people. Just the soft splash of their paddles and the chorus of nature around them.
Meg broke the silence a little later. “Okay, I don’t hate this as much as I thought I would. I’m kind of irritated that I like it so much. Dammit all.”
He moved up alongside her. “You’re cute when you’re irritated. Still have to do somethin’ about that potty mouth of yours though.” Drew laughed at her and she unexpectedly splashed him with her paddle.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he promised as he wiped off his face and glasses with his shirt.
“You’ll have to catch me first!” Turning quickly, she bumped his kayak out of her way and headed for shore.
Gaining even more confidence, Meg headed like hell for the beach and Drew followed close behind. Reaching the shore, she quickly jumped out, only pausing long enough to pull the kayak onto land, and ran, laughing hysterically. He rowed hard, pushing deep into the water and shooting his kayak right up onto the beach. Tossing his paddle to the side, he jumped out. She was fast, almost to his truck already.
Running after her, Drew caught her quickly and threw her over his shoulder, walking to the truck as she smacked his back and kicked her legs. He opened the passenger door and dropped her onto the front seat of the truck. Meg squirmed and tried to wriggle away, but he held her down, his big hands firm on her hips. “You’re gonna stay still and keep your hands to yourself.” He was enjoying the role of protector and alpha. He’d never been bossy in bed, but something about Meg triggered every one of his possessive, male instincts.
“Ohhhh-kkkkay,” she stammered.
“Put your hands over your head and grab the other door handle. You’re gonna learn what happens when you run from me.” Drew turned his ball cap backward, pulled her shoes off, and jerked her pants down her legs. Lawd have mercy, she’s not wearin’ panties! “I like this look on you.” He shoved her shirt and bra up, exposing her breasts to his gaze and hands. His fingers trailed down along her ribs and hip You’re so beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
Smiling to himself, he kissed along her stomach and navel, working his way down to her hips and lower to her thighs. He kneeled on the ground, the gravel digging into his knee, but he barely registered the pain. His whole being, mind, and body, was focused on the woman in front of him. Glancing up at her over the rim of his glasses, he saw that she was breathless and flushed pink across her face and down her neck and chest. The scent of her arousal reached his nose and he hadn’t even really touched her yet. He grinned and placed his glasses on the floorboard, then lowered his mouth for a feast. Moaning at the sweet taste of her, he delved between her legs with his mouth. Reaching his hands down, he held her open with his thumbs and traced circles and lines back and forth with the tip of his tongue. His own arousal demanded attention, but he ignored it. He didn’t care about himself right now, this was about her pleasure. Her hips bucked up and she twisted back and forth. Not having it, he gripped her hips tightly, refusing to let her move.
“Drew . . .” she panted, begging, “please!”
Growling against her, he pushed two fingers inside, stroking her fast and deep while his tongue flicked across her clit. He didn’t stop until she shouted his name at least three times.
“Please what?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer; he didn’t need one. He knew what she wanted. She grew even wetter, soaking his fingers and face. He was sure there would a wet spot on his seat, but he didn’t care about anything else in that moment. He wanted her to come.
“Come for me, baby. Right now.” His words set her off; her heels dug into the seat and her hips jerked upward. Growling against her, he licked and sucked faster, driving his fingers into her harder. After that, she was an incoherent mess, babbling and jerking against the seat as her orgasm ripped through her.
Letting her go, he stood with a groan, propped his arms against the roof of his truck, and wiped his face and beard against the bottom of his shirt before putting his glasses back on. He stared down at Meg, unwilling to look away and miss this moment. Her arms were sprawled out, she’d let go of the door at some point. Her chest rose and fell as she panted. Sweat glistened along her brow, and he watched in fascination as a bead rolled down her throat and onto her chest. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Chapter 19
Meg
I try to catch my breath, but I think it will be a while until my heart rate returns to normal.
“Were you trying to kill me? Because I’m pretty sure you almost succeeded.”
Chuckling, he hands me my pants. “I could say the same for you, you’re the one without any panties.”
“Well, I figured you’d be taking them off of me anyway, so why bother with them at all?”
“It seems you figured right on that.”
Blushing, I pull my pants up my legs and stand to pull them up the rest of the way, wincing from the bite of the gravel.
Tsking at me, he steps forward and grips my hands, making me step up onto his toes. Well, the toes on his right and the hard plastic of his left. “Don’t hurt your feet.”
Sliding my pants up, I make sure to brush up against him as much as possible, bumping the swollen evidence of his arousal several times.
“You’re a minx,” he growls, hauling me up into his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his shoulders, and kiss him with every feeling exploding within me. I feel light and free, forged into something new and bright. I can taste myself on his lips, and while it’s very different, it’s not unpleasant.
“I aim to please.”
Drew takes two steps, pinning me to the side of his truck, his lips still locked against my own. His palms cup my ass, keeping me pressed tightly against him as he rocks his pelvis against mine, making us both groan. Heat flares along my neck where he trails kisses, nibbling and biting along the way. “I’m gettin’ hungry,” he says against my neck.
I shiver, gooseflesh popping up along my arms and down my back. “Didn’t you just eat?” I ask, leaning my head back so he can kiss my throat.
His laugh is full and loud. “So I did, but I need to keep my strength up. You’re a very demandin’ lover.”
“I could say the same for you, ya know.” I rub my pelvis against the bulge in his jeans. His fingers tighten against my ass, and he thrusts up harder against me, drawing a gasp from my throat.
“Do you like barbecue?”
“Don’t know, never had it.” I shrug.
“What? Well, consider today the beginnin’ of your barbecue education.” Kissing me again, he puts me down, careful of my still bare feet on the stones. “I know a good place not far from here.”
He bends down to retrieve my shoes. I don’t bother to hide the fact I’m looking at his ass in those tight jeans. It is a hell of a view. “Sounds good to me.”
“Were you starin’ at my ass?” He straightens, handing over my shoes and looking at me suspiciously.
“Sure was.” I grin, not caring or feeling bad about it at all. Why should I? He’s worth a look or ten.
He shakes his head and laughs. “Help me with the kayaks?” He extends a hand to me, seeming to just want to touch me for no other reason than because he wants to. I’m inclined to let him.
“Of
course.” Taking his hand in mine, I lace my fingers in his briefly before helping him load the gear. “Today has been just about as much fun as I can ever remember having. And not just because of the orgasms. Though they helped.” I wink, poking him in the shoulder. “You’re so much fun to be around.”
“You make me want to have fun.” He slides his arm over my shoulder, walking me to the front of the truck. “I like you here.”
“I like me here too.” Kissing him on the cheek, I climb into the truck and don’t object when he holds my hand again as he drives. I’m determined not to ruin the wonderful day we’re having by analyzing every little thing. Letting myself be happy is a constant struggle, but Drew is making it easier all the time.
Chapter 20
Drew
Drew wanted to do as much as possible to introduce Meg to all his hometown had to offer, hoping it would entice her to stop running. Great food was a big part of that. Perhaps the way to her heart was through her stomach. Barbecue was considered a southern delicacy around here, so Tupelo Heat was an obvious choice for his food tour to her heart.
As they walked through the wooden screen door, Drew pointed to a grouping of picnic-style tables. “Grab us a table, and I’ll get us some cokes.”
“What?” Meg responded in surprise. “Won’t someone take our order?”
“Nope. We order at the counter. I’ll bring you a menu since you haven’t been here before.” Drew headed off for their drinks, while Meg wandered over to a table by some screened windows with old jalousie-style glass louvers.
When Drew returned, Meg spoke loudly over the noise of the chatter and a jukebox. “So, what’s so special about this place? It kinda looks like a . . . dump.”
“Trust me, darlin’, you’ll be eatin’ those words, literally. You have to understand the barbecue culture. There are four styles of barbecue in the US: Carolina, Texas, Kansas City, and I’m savin’ the best for last . . . Memphis. They are all mostly slow-cooked pork, but the difference is in the seasonings and sauce. Memphis style is slightly sweet with a vinegar and tomato base, but it packs some heat. If you’re nice, I might tell you the secret ingredient.”
“I bet I can convince you to tell me,” Meg responded with a wink and a smirk. Her sassy mouth got him every time.
“Probably,” Drew responded with a chuckle. “But let me tell you more about this place first. It may look primitive to you, but this joint is world-famous. It’s been featured on the Food Network. Barbecue places got their start after World War II and most were outdoors or just shacks since the meat is slow-cooked in a pit. This particular one is still owned by the same family, and they’ve kept the atmosphere of the original. If you go to the restroom, you’ll see pictures hangin’ in the hallway of celebrities and famous people who have eaten here.”
“Wow,” Meg looked around again, incredulously. “So . . . since I’m a barbecue virgin, I’ll let you order for me.”
“Then you won’t be needin’ this menu. I’ll get you what I always order. Trust me, you’re gonna be lickin’ your fingers.” Drew grinned slyly. “Be right back.”
A few minutes later, Drew returned to the table with two trays, each containing a heaping sandwich on a bun with a side of mac and cheese. He set one in front of Meg with pride as if he’d just handed her a first place trophy.
“What is it and why is there coleslaw on top?” Meg asked as she removed the top bun and looked at it with a confused expression.
“It’s a pulled pork sandwich. It’s customary to put coleslaw on top. It takes away some of the bite. If you want to flavor it more, there are a couple of different sauces here on the table. I actually prefer to just put some regular tabasco on mine to make it nice and hot.”
“I like spicy food, so I think I’ll trust you on this.” After dousing it in tabasco, following Drew’s lead, she stuck her finger in the concoction and licked it off. “Oh my God, this is delicious.” She picked up her sandwich and took a huge bite, juice dotting her cheeks as she closed her eyes and moaned.
“I think I just found the perfect woman,” Drew said with a wink and a grin. As they ate, he tried to find out more about her. “Tell me what type of work you used to do.”
Meg paused in mid-bite. For the last few days, she hadn’t thought much about her previous life. She finished chewing her food with a faraway look in her eyes. “I worked for a mid-sized architectural and design firm. I was their interior designer.”
Drew was intrigued. “Like those designers on the home improvement shows? I have a confession to make, and please don’t judge me.”
Now Meg was intrigued. “I make no promises,” she responded in a teasing tone.
Drew knew she was kidding, so he forged ahead. “I love watchin’ those shows. I have a dream of startin’ my own home improvement company. There are lots of old houses around here that need fixin’ up, and this town needs its country charm brought back.”
“I think that’s admirable. From what I’ve seen of your place, I have no doubt you’d be great at it.”
Drew ducked his head in embarrassment. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “It’s just a pipe dream, really.”
Meg leaned across the table and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.” I’m going to tell you the same thing you told me. Be brave, baby. Now, I’m going to check out those celebrity photos on the way to the ladies’ room.”
Chapter 21
Meg
I come back from washing my hands in the bathroom to find a tall, curvy, legs up to her ears blonde sitting in my seat, talking to Drew. Anger immediately floods my system. Who does that twat think she is? A glance at Drew’s face tells me all I need to know. He looks uncomfortable and pissed, but he’s attempting to be polite. He had his manners taught to him at the end of Nana’s cookie spoon, I’m sure. I have no such training, nor do I have a problem showing this uppity bitch the door. I keep quiet as I walk up behind her. Drew sees me and shakes his head slightly, begging me with his eyes to let him handle this. I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot.
“It’s so nice we ran into each other like this!” Her voice is high pitched and grating, even with the smooth, southern accent. I want to rip her tongue out just to make the god-awful noise stop.
“Listen, Barbie, like I said, I’m here with someone. You’re in her seat, actually.” Drew points to the bench she’s perched on, doing his best to diffuse the scene that’s about to unfold.
“Drew, darlin’, you don’t have to pretend with me. I won’t judge if you’re here alone!” She reaches out, patting his arm, trailing her viciously sharp looking fake nails down his arm. “It’s okay if you don’t have a date. I know how some girls can be about your, you know . . .” She leans in closer, lowering her voice, “. . . the little problem with your leg.”
Drew’s face turns red, flushing with embarrassment and anger. That’s it; I’m done. I tap the little Barbie princess on the shoulder. Hard. “Excuse me, you’re in my seat.” My voice is ice cold and harsh, my anger a living, breathing monster inside me. I can have a vicious temper and this little skank is pushing my buttons. She turns to face me, and I see she’s rather young, I guess early twenties. I can see the immaturity written all over her, from her too thick makeup, to the sparkly case on the phone she has clutched in one hand.
“Oh, my! I didn’t know darlin’ Drew was with someone!” She puts a hand on her chest, leaning back from the table slightly, but making no move to get up.
“Well, I find that hard to believe since I heard him tell you he was. Did you think he was lying?” My glare alone should have made her scamper off, but she’s either too dumb to know better or so entitled she’d never consider someone being pissed at her.
“Oh, no, of course not. Drew darlin’ would never lie.”
I clench my teeth as she calls him darlin’ again. “Maybe Drew’s manners are too good to tell you, but unlucky for you, my manners are terrible.” I lean down closer to her, getting right into her face. Her expensive perfume and contoure
d makeup hide nothing of the monster she is, dressed in her designer jeans and rhinestones. “Get the fuck out of my seat and get away from my man. And don’t ever call him darlin’ again.”
Drew’s mouth falls open and then snaps shut to swallow a laugh. Barbie looks like she’s going to have a coronary on the spot. It’s unlikely anyone in her sheltered, perfect little life has ever spoken to her in such a way.
“Excuse me! I do not know who you think you are, but you do not get to speak to me that way!” Her voice reaches a new octave, practically at dog whistle-level.
I keep my voice even and calm, leaning in close enough I can see the concealer caked onto her skin. I put both palms flat on the table, bracketing her in so she can’t escape the come-to-Jesus talk she is about to receive. “My name is Meg Taylor. That wonderful man is Drew. He’s mine. I came here with him and I’m going to leave with him. You are a plastic, fake, useless excuse of a woman. You don’t deserve to be in the same room as him. You aren’t going to see, speak, or be in his presence, ever again, or so help me God, I will rip your hair out and shove those hideous fucking fake nails right up your tight little ass.” I accompany my speech with a vulgar gesture I am sure she can understand. Straightening, I lean back, cross my arms, and wait.
“How dare you!” she screeches, as she awkwardly gets up off the bench to stand. Her face is blotchy with rage and her hands are shaking.
“Oh, I dare. I dare because you crossed a line. I dare because you implied that he’s somehow less. There is no problem with him, in any way. He didn’t seem to have a single issue when he was fucking me against the wall last night. I bet he never did that with you, did he?” I hiss. I didn’t think it possible she could get any uglier, but her face turns a sickly shade of purple. “Now run along, Barbie, before I put you on a shelf with all the other fake, empty, hollow dolls you seem to take after.” I brush her aside with the back of my hand and take back my seat. She snatches her tiny designer purse off the table and stomps off, her heels clacking on the concrete floor.