Waiting for Snow

by Mari Carr

  “Fuck,” he murmured, when her pussy clenched around his sensitive flesh. He’d never had a problem with longevity, but Adele was going to test his limits tonight.

  He’d also never been inside a woman without a condom. Not once. And Adele felt like heaven.

  She cupped his cheek, smiling. “You’re inside me,” she whispered, her tone one of wonder and maybe even surprise.

  Porter’s lips parted and crazy as it was, for a moment, he considered saying those three little words he’d never uttered to another woman. He held back because one, it was way too soon and he’d probably scare her off and two, when he said the words, he wanted her to know they were true and not driven by the heat of the moment, the result of a lack of blood flow to the brain.

  He’d never been the type to believe in falling fast even though he’d watched his best friend, Coop, do so twice, first with Sharon and again with Macie. But damn if he wasn’t a believer now.

  Porter lifted his hips, sliding out until just the head of his dick remained, then he pushed in again, harder. Adele threw her head back, her fingernails scoring his upper back as he started to take her faster, taking her with all the hunger that had been building up inside him since that first dance in the spring.

  Adele met him blow for blow, raising her hips to meet him, begging him for more, pleading for air, and after a few minutes, for mercy.

  “Oh my God,” she cried. “It’s too good, too good. I can’t—” Her orgasm struck hard and fast, and Porter gritted his teeth so tightly he feared they’d crack. He remained motionless, holding his breath, praying for the strength not to come.

  There was no way in hell he was letting this end so soon.

  He chuckled as her orgasm waned and she lay limp as a rag doll on the bed. Her eyes were closed, her breathing ragged, the rapid rise and fall of her chest pressing her gorgeous tits against his pecs.

  After a minute more, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Just so you know, I’m still here,” he said teasingly.

  Adele’s eyes fluttered open and it took a second before she managed to focus on his face, and another moment more before she realized he was still rock hard and buried inside her.

  “Shit,” she said. “I think you’re going to have to finish this one without me. I died somewhere in the middle of that last orgasm.”

  Porter laughed, the response causing his dick to shift. The sound faded when her pussy spasmed as a result, and he realized he would be lucky to manage three more thrusts before losing his battle not to come.

  Slowly, he slid out of her, his departure taking her by surprise.

  She gripped his upper arms. “No. Wait. I was only kidding.”

  He kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not finished with you yet.”

  Porter gripped her right hip and lifted, turning her until she was on her stomach.

  “Oh God,” she said, when he continued moving her into the position he wanted, on her knees, ass in the air, the side of her face resting on her pillow. Her auburn hair lay loose and wild against the pillow, and he reached up to run his fingers over the soft, thick mass.

  Porter lined himself up and slid back in. Adele released a combination hiss and moan that told him it wouldn’t take long to drive her back up to the peak.

  Rather than go slowly, he resumed the quick, hard pace he’d set just before her previous orgasm. He held on tightly to her hips and any hope he had of holding onto the reins on his self-control vanished. Slipping one hand around her, he found her clit and began stroking it.

  One touch fired her arousal once again and Adele lifted her upper body from the bed, slamming her ass back toward him on every forward thrust.

  Porter reached for her hair, grabbing a handful to lift her even more, pulling her back to his chest. The way she cried out, “yes!” told him she enjoyed a bite of pain with her pleasure.

  He wrapped one arm around her, banding her to him, his open palm resting just below her throat. He continued to pump his hips, driving into her, finding her G-spot.

  Adele cried out loudly, her body trembling in response as he hit that magic place over and over and over again.

  “Fuck!” she yelled. “I can’t—” She came again and this time, she took him down with her. Pulse after pulse of come filled her, and he cursed himself for being a fool, for taking so damn long to claim this woman.

  The two of them remained there, connected, kneeling on her bed, gasping for air. Adele was the first to move, falling facedown into the pillow. He followed her, twisting her until her head rested on his shoulder, her arm draped over his chest.

  Damn if she didn’t feel perfect in his arms. She was made for him.

  They lay there for several long minutes without speaking, and Porter thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep.

  So he was surprised when she lifted her head, her eyes finding his. “You’re going to have to tell me what the protocol is here.”

  He frowned, confused. “Protocol?”

  Her smile was sweet and a bit shy when she said, “I’ve never had a one-night stand. Do you spend the night? Say goodbye now? Stay for breakfast? I make a mean French toast if that sways you at all.”

  He scowled. “Who said this was a one-night stand?”

  Adele’s grin faded. “I…I mean…you never—”

  “Addie, darlin’, I swear to God if you quote something from that goddamn Porter handbook again, I’m going to turn you over my knee and spank your ass.”

  She flushed and bit her lower lip and for a second, he thought she might ignore his warning in favor of the spanking. If he weren’t so annoyed, he’d follow through with the threat. The problem was he needed to fix this with words, not more sex, considering it was starting to feel like Adele thought he was just some cowboy gigolo.

  “You’ve never dated,” she said at last. “And that’s not gossip, Porter. It’s common knowledge.”

  He couldn’t argue with that because she was right. He’d never had a girlfriend, never indulged in more than a night—and sometimes the occasional wild weekend—with the women in his past.

  “Well, I’m dating you,” he said, unwilling to mince words.

  She didn’t respond to that. Rather, she seemed to be chewing it over, trying to figure out if he was sincere. He hated that she questioned it for a second, but he couldn’t blame her for worrying because what proof did he have to offer.

  Besides that, the last guy she dated was his polar opposite—the kind of man who dated one woman forever with marriage in mind. Adele had imagined a real future with Keith, and look how that had ended. He wasn’t sure if she was still nursing a broken heart or not, but if she was, it made sense she’d be resistant to falling into a relationship with someone who was basically a proven flight risk.

  Not that he intended to ever walk away from her.

  So he decided it was time to lay his cards on the table.

  “What are you looking for, Addie? With all this dating you’ve been doing the last year, going out with all those guys—who were wrong for you, by the way—what is it you want?”

  She lifted one shoulder and gave him the truth. “A relationship. I liked what I had with Keith. We were steady and happy and in love. I hate playing the field, being single.”

  She paused for a moment, and he realized she was assessing her next words.

  “Don’t hold back,” he said.

  “I want marriage, Porter, and kids. A lot of kids.”

  Now he understood her hesitance. She thought that confession would drive him from her bed like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. He grinned, his expression clearly catching her off guard when she frowned, confused.

  “And you don’t think I’m relationship material? Husband material?”

  She blew out a slow breath. “It’s kind of hard to answer that. Considering you’ve never seemed to want to be either of those things before.”

  “Fair enough. So here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna keep going out with me—just me—a
nd you’re going to give me a chance to prove to you that I am relationship material.”

  Adele considered that for just a second before her smile returned. “Okay. You’re on. Prove it to me.”

  Chapter 5

  Adele glanced around the street for the hundredth time, unable to shake the feeling that people were watching. No one was. Or if they were, they were being subtle about it. After all, here she was—Adele Sparks—walking down Main Street, holding hands with Porter Cormack.

  It had been four days since Porter insisted he was sincere in his desire to be her boyfriend and that he wanted a relationship with her. Even now, after four nights of life-altering, ruined-for-other-men sex, she was struggling to believe this was real.

  Because it felt too good to be true.

  She’d woken up with Porter this morning, who’d told her he’d taken the day off so the two of them could go Christmas shopping together. He’d claimed he wanted her help picking out something for Macie, which she’d done. And she’d been grateful for his suggestions about what her new brother-in-law Coop would like.

  They’d spent the entire morning, walking in and out of the local shops, making purchases for everyone on their lists. It had been relaxing and fun.

  Then he’d suggested they stop by Sparks Barbeque for the lunch special. Adele had warned him that might be unwise because her family was somewhat infamous for their third degrees whenever she or Macie or one of her cousins showed up with a guy in tow. Porter had wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her to the restaurant, reassuring her he’d be fine.

  She had winced when she’d spotted her dad and his cronies at the counter. It was the first time her dad had seen her with Porter and—true to her warning—they’d spent the first twenty minutes of their meal answering her dad’s seven million questions about what was going on between them.

  Adele sort of expected that to be the point when Porter came to his senses and walked away from her with a “this isn’t worth it” comment. TJ Sparks was a lot for any person to deal with, and he was even worse when it came to getting his two adult daughters married off.

  Porter had patiently answered every single one of Dad’s questions, perfectly at ease with informing her father they were dating, and she was his girlfriend…several times. Adele wasn’t certain which of them should have been more annoyed—Porter because Dad clearly didn’t believe the ranch manager capable of a long-term relationship or her because her father didn’t bother to hide his shock at her ability to turn the head of a confirmed, lifelong bachelor.

  She’d been grateful when the meal had ended so they could get out of there before Macie—who’d been too busy to come add her own fuel to the questioning—could make her way over to their table.

  Porter lifted his hand and pointed to the hardware store. “I’ve got a list of things I need to pick up for the ranch. Why don’t you pop into Dolly’s boutique to pick out that sweater for your mom that TJ wanted you to buy for him and I’ll meet you back at the truck in twenty minutes?”

  Adele nodded. Her dad was hopeless when it came to shopping for her mom. Every year, she and Macie picked up extra items and wrapped them for Dad to give to Mom. At lunch, her father had mentioned Mom pointing out some flowery blouse or sweater or something in Dolly’s shop window he wanted to give to her for the holiday, and he needed Adele to pick it up for him. Adele hoped Dolly would be able to shed some light on exactly which item in the window he was talking about. Adele considered it insane that Dad could recall every drop of gossip about every single person whoever stepped a toe in Maris, but when it came to remembering Mom’s shirt size or favorite color, he was hopeless.

  “That sounds fine,” she said. She started to release his hand, but Porter refused to relinquish it. Instead, he used his grip to tug her closer, giving her a kiss that was pushing the limits of appropriateness.

  When they parted, he gave her a wink. “You done after this?”

  She nodded. “Yep. Managed to get everything on my list.”

  “Me too. What do you say we go back to my place for hot cocoa? You can help me hang up that wreath you made me buy and we can start working on growing my Grinch heart a few sizes.”

  Adele ran her fingers over his belt buckle suggestively. “Not really your heart I’m interested in seeing get bigger.”

  Porter reached around her and gripped her ass in his large palms, squeezing tightly. “Dammit, woman. Keep that up and your cousin, Evan, is gonna arrest us for public indecency because I’m about two seconds from tossing you into my truck bed and giving you exactly what you’re asking for.”

  She laughed. “Sadly, I think it’s too cold for that.”

  Porter’s hands remained on her ass. “It wouldn’t be cold for long.”

  “Good point,” she murmured, slipping her arms beneath his thick coat and wrapping them around his waist.

  He kissed her again, then pulled back a few inches to study her face. “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you. All you think about is sex.”

  Adele gave him a coy smile and shrugged. “I think there’s an argument to be made for the other side. Because I’d say you’ve been a very, very good influence on me in that regard. Last night was…”

  The previous night, Porter had given Adele her first taste of bondage, tying her spread eagle to her own bed as he went down on her, licking, biting, and sucking her through two orgasms before he climbed over her body and fucked her into oblivion.

  “Great,” he muttered darkly. “Now I’ve gotta find a way to walk to the hardware store with a hard-on.”

  She giggled as she released him. Then she raised one eyebrow, giving him a smug, challenging look.

  “Bad influence,” he mumbled as he adjusted his jeans, which did look far too tight to be comfortable at the moment, turned, and stiffly started off in the direction of the hardware store.

  Adele watched, resisting the urge to call out his name to suggest they forego the rest of the shopping and head straight to his place. Once Porter had crossed the street and disappeared into the store, she stepped into Dolly’s.

  “Hey, Adele,” Dolly greeted her as she entered.

  “Hi, Dolly. I was hoping you could help me find a Christmas present for my mother. My dad mentioned there was something in your shop window a few weeks ago that she liked.”

  For the next ten minutes, she and Dolly walked around the store, trying to figure out what her mother had seen in the store window. In the end, they figured out it hadn’t been a blouse or a sweater at all, but rather a lovely maroon and navy shawl that looked exactly like something Mom would absolutely love and something her father would instantly forget. She couldn’t begin to understand why he thought it was flowery.

  Adele had just finished checking out when she heard someone say her name. Turning, she smiled when she spotted Keith’s mother entering the store.

  “Mrs. Jensen, it’s nice to see you,” Adele said. She’d always been very fond of Keith’s mom, though their interactions over the past year had become increasingly uncomfortable. Mrs. Jensen was still convinced that Adele was going to come to her senses any day, move to St. Louis, marry Keith, and give her lots and lots of grandchildren.

  Mrs. Jensen’s opening salvo proved this conversation was going to be just as rough as the last few they’d shared. “Our boy is coming home for the holidays.”

  Adele smiled, though it was a weak one at best. The last time she’d spoken to Keith—a little over a month earlier—he’d told her he wouldn’t be able to make the trip home due to work. Apparently, that had changed.

  “That’s great,” Adele said, when it was clear Mrs. Jensen expected her pronouncement to be met with some level of happiness. “I’m sure the two of you will have a wonderful time.” Keith’s father had passed away when Keith, an only child, was twelve, so for over half his life, he and his mother had been a family of two, and no mother doted on her son more than Mrs. Jensen.

  “Oh, honey. You know you’re family too. I hope you�
�ll be able to pop over on Christmas day for a little while. I’m making my famous apple pie for dessert.”

  For the past four Christmases, Adele had always gone to the Jensen house after her family’s Christmas celebration, joining Keith and his mother for dessert. They’d kept the tradition going last year as well even though she and Keith had split up just before his move the week preceding Thanksgiving.

  She’d agreed to dessert last year because she’d missed him, and the two of them had agreed it would just be as friends. But because the breakup had been too new and neither of them had really accepted the relationship was over, the “just friends” line had been blurred for a few minutes under the mistletoe. And in the kitchen after the two of them offered to do the dishes. And then again on the front porch as she said her good nights.

  While they’d only shared kisses, it had set Adele back in terms of her ability to move on, something Macie had given her an earful for when Adele spent the better part of New Year’s Eve, crying over a bottle of champagne.

  “It’s very nice of you to invite me, but I don’t think I’ll be able to come this year.” Adele hoped the discussion would end there because she hadn’t spoken to Keith since she’d started seeing Porter.

  Of course, her relationship with Porter—Adele was uncertain if it was wise to think of it as a relationship—was less than a week old. She still wasn’t sure if it was going to stick. Though she sure as hell hoped it did. She hoped it more and more with each passing day.

  She shut that thought down instantly, determined to keep a tighter grip on her heart than she’d managed so far. Because for the past week, he’d consumed her every waking thought and more than a fair share of her dreams.

  Every minute she spent with Porter only left her falling deeper and deeper under his spell. Which could mean amazing things for her future…or could lead to an unbearable heartbreak if he discovered somewhere down the road that he was wrong about wanting to date, preferring his bachelor status to being in a relationship with her.