Southern Hotshot: A North Carolina Highlands Novel

by Peterson, Jessica

  Samuel’s shoes catch on the flinty ground beside me.

  Now that we’re away from the smells of the restaurant, I can smell him.

  My heart skips a beat.

  “You didn’t wear it,” I say, looking up at him. “Your cologne.”

  The lights from the barn catch on his thick, stylishly parted dark hair. The expression in his eyes—I can’t read it.

  “You walk here?” he grunts, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Yeah. You?”

  He tips his chin toward the darkness. “C’mon. I’ll make sure Eddie and David leave you alone.” He starts walking.

  “Eddie and David?” I ask, hesitating. The snakes, the fact that Samuel might actually be looking out for me—I don’t know which one scares me more.

  “The black bears that live up the hill here.”

  I hustle to catch up to him. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not,” he says, slowing his steps a little. “For the most part, they leave us alone. Except for that one time.”

  “What happened? Did someone get hurt?” My heart skips again, but for a different reason. Small lights illuminate the path we’re walking, but otherwise the darkness is complete. Makes me hyper aware of the steady sound of Samuel’s footsteps. The pulsing of crickets around us.

  Wait, what did I just hear? Was that a rustle in those bushes over there?

  “David ate a baby.”

  Without thinking I grab his arm. “A baby? Like, a human baby?”

  “Yup. Grabbed him right out of his stroller.”

  “Oh my God! How did I not hear about this? Is the baby okay?”

  The arm I’m holding starts to shake, and I realize Samuel is laughing.

  Jerk.

  “God, you’re easy to mess with,” he says. “David likes blackberries more than babies. Obviously.”

  I shove him away. “Not cool, Beauregard.”

  “About as cool as that bullshit tasting you just put me through, Emma. But really, we tell all our guests to keep an eye out for wildlife, and to avoid walking around the resort alone if they can. Especially at night.”

  Oh, God, Samuel really is looking out for me.

  He really is being a gentleman. Which absolutely does not square with the guy I met yesterday.

  I thought I had this guy pinned as a self-absorbed egomaniac. But now? Now I’m not so sure.

  I don’t know what to say when we get to my cottage. I fully expect Samuel to leave me at the gate, but instead he opens it, allowing me to pass through first, and walks me all the way to the front door.

  I root around my bag for the key and notice my hands are clammy. Like I’m nervous or something.

  Like Samuel and I are on a date, and this is the will-he-or-won’t-he-kiss-me moment.

  I find the key and slide it into the lock. The heat of his gaze makes me feel like a teenager again—hot and sweaty and painfully self-conscious.

  “So. Eight AM tomorrow at the barn.” I keep my eyes on the lock.

  I hear his feet shuffle on the gravel pathway. “You move fast.”

  “Me asking around to find out when your day starts is moving fast?” I glance at him over my shoulder. I’m a few steps up on the porch, but he’s so tall that we see eye to eye. “Just trying to be a team player.”

  There’s that look again. The one I can’t read.

  “I don’t believe that,” he says. “Not for one fucking second.”

  And then he turns and stalks into the night.

  * * *

  I usually reserve my sky-high stilettos for special occasions.

  But I’m feeling all kinds of mixed up after my very long, very weird first couple of days at Blue Mountain Farm Resort. I need to gather myself before I start my chat with Blue.

  And nothing makes me feel more gathered than slipping on a killer pair of heels and playing with sexual power dynamics.

  Plus, I want to celebrate tonight’s victory.

  I take off my blazer and unzip my skirt. Next comes bra and undies. Then I step out of my stupid kitten heels, and step into the stilettos.

  They’re the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought for myself other than my car. Meghan Markle wore something similar to some fabulous event, and when I saw them on her I immediately started hunting online. An entire paycheck later, my Aquazzura pumps arrived. I’ve been obsessed with them ever since.

  The shoes are black satin, with a delicate needle heel four inches high. There’s a cutout at the instep that allows you to see my foot right where it curves seductively in the middle. But what makes the pumps really special are the tiny crystals that dot the back of the shoe and the heel itself, capped with this sexy little knot of fabric that glimmers every time I move.

  They’re just the right combination of understated and sexy, and I feel like a million bucks whenever I put them on.

  I grab my laptop and hop into bed. I cue up some porn to get in the mood. Then I reach between my legs.

  When my fingers graze my clit, I nearly jump off the mattress. I’m sensitive.

  And wet.

  Holy shit, did Samuel do this?

  I circle the pads of my fingers over my clit again. My head falls back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. All I see behind my closed lids are the veins on the back of Samuel’s hands. The broad tips of his fingers.

  Samuel definitely did this. During the tasting, I was aware of my physical attraction to him. But that attraction was peppered with so much distaste and discomfort I hadn’t realized how out of hand it’d gotten until now.

  A part of me wants to be disgusted with myself. Another part wants to be afraid. This is my future on the line here. I can’t risk it by indulging this nonsensical, downright dangerous interest in Samuel Beauregard.

  I nearly jump again when the alarm on my phone goes off.

  10 PM.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, I hit my phone screen to quiet the alarm and enter the chat room. I smile when I see MyBoyBlue is already here, and he’s already sent me a dick pic.

  Bless his heart.

  Chat #2

  MyBoyBlue4: [Sends picture of his engorged cock. It’s standing straight up.]

  LadyV76: [Sends picture of herself with her knees drawn up to her chest, feet on the mattress. Her pussy is spread and her heels are fully visible.]

  MyBoyBlue4: Aw FUCK those heels. I like.

  LadyV76: No love for the pussy?

  MyBoyBlue4: You already know how pretty I think your pussy is. This is exactly what I needed.

  LadyV76: Tough day at the office?

  MyBoyBlue4: You could say that. I know you said you don’t share personal details, but I feel like a dick not asking how your day was.

  LadyV76: I don’t share personal stuff. But because I had a rough one too, I’ll say that I’ve very much been looking forward to tonight.

  MyBoyBlue4: You got no idea. I need to blow off some major steam.

  LadyV76: SAME. Okay so speaking of steam, smoke, whatever…I’m the mother of dragons. You’re Jon Snow.

  MyBoyBlue4: I was just thinking about Khaleesi!

  LadyV76: Great minds. My Khaleesi wears stilettos. Got lube?

  MyBoyBlue4: Yes. Thankfully lube is plentiful in Westeros.

  LadyV76: Valar morghulis. I’m going to lube you up. And then you’re going to fuck my tits, bastard.

  MyBoyBlue4: Jesus.

  LadyV76: What?

  MyBoyBlue4: I like it when you call me a bastard.

  LadyV76: I knew you would. So I push you down on the edge of our bed on the ship.

  MyBoyBlue4: We’re on a ship? Fuck yes, that’s badass.

  LadyV76: Ship sex is the best sex. So I push you down on the edge of the bed. I spread your legs and get down on my knees between them.

  MyBoyBlue4: I’m there

  LadyV76: I grab your dick and give it a good tug. At the same time, I reach for your balls and play with those.

  MyBoyBlue4: YESSSSSSSSSS

  LadyV
76: I look you in the eye as I lean down and put your cock in my mouth. You’re impatient, you’ve been waiting all day for this, so you buck your hips and shove yourself all the way into the back of my throat. But you’re forgetting who’s queen.

  MyBoyBlue4: And who’s the bastard. Uh-oh.

  LadyV76: I shoot to my feet and grab your hair. I pull it, hard. I’m going to remind you that while I may have been on my knees, you’re the one who’ll bend the knee to me.

  MyBoyBlue4: Go on.

  LadyV76: I’m going to torture you. I’m going to make you go slowly, go gently, and I won’t let you put yourself inside me until I’m satisfied you’ve learned your place.

  MyBoyBlue4: Tell me what I need to do to make this right, Breaker of Chains.

  LadyV76: I lie on the bed, my head facing the foot of the mattress. You’re still going to fuck my tits, but you’re going to eat me out while you’re doing it.

  MyBoyBlue4: Actual twenty-first century question: is that physically possible?

  LadyV76: It is if I say so.

  MyBoyBlue4: Fair enough.

  LadyV76: We’re basically sixty-nining. Only with tits involved.

  MyBoyBlue4: Fuck.

  LadyV76: So I’m facing the foot of the bed and you’re facing the headboard. You straddle my head and put your hands on either side of my hips. I grab your dick and guide it down to lie between my breasts.

  MyBoyBlue4: You gotta send me a pic. Please, V.

  LadyV76: Since you asked nicely…[Sends picture of her tits squeezed together]

  MyBoyBlue4: Wow. You have a beautiful body.

  LadyV76: Thanks. I appreciate that. So you’re holding yourself up above me. I press my tits together and tell you to move. Slow and steady. Since you’re lubed up, you move easily. You’re hissing because it feels so good. Stroke yourself and tell me how it feels.

  MyBoyBlue4: I think you know how it feels.

  LadyV76: Are you getting sassy with me, bastard?

  MyBoyBlue4: I would never. I’m stroking myself softly and slowly, just like you told me to do.

  LadyV76: Good boy. Now lean down and lick my pussy.

  MyBoyBlue4: You taste magnificent. Like the moon and stars.

  LadyV76: Your arms shake with the effort of holding yourself up while leaning down like you are, but you’re strong.

  MyBoyBlue4: All that white walker slaying has kept me in amazing shape, I must say.

  LadyV76: You’re funny.

  MyBoyBlue4: I know.

  LadyV76: You lick my clit. Circle it with the tip of your tongue. Someone’s taught you how to do this, and do it well.

  MyBoyBlue4: It was a teacher I had. Back in Night Watch College.

  LadyV76: Cheesy.

  MyBoyBlue4: Yeah, that one wasn’t so great. A for effort, F for execution.

  LadyV76: You get an A in both for oral. My legs shake and so do your arms. You’re kissing my pussy and fucking my tits. I tell you to go faster, and you listen. Faster. Harder. I tilt my head back and use my tongue to play with your balls, because you seem to like that.

  MyBoyBlue4: Aw shit, I’m gonna come but I want you to go first.

  LadyV76: Jon Snow is a gentleman?

  MyBoyBlue4: Layers, baby. I got ’em.

  LadyV76: You kiss my clit, nick it with your teeth. Suck.

  [A pause]

  MyBoyBlue4: Please please please tell me you just came so I can go too?

  LadyV76: Yes.

  [Another pause]

  MyBoyBlue4: [Sends pic of cum all over his belly]

  LadyV76: Hot. So hot. Also, how many abs do you have? 800?

  MyBoyBlue4: Full disclosure: I may have been flexing for that picture. But yeah, I take good care of myself.

  LadyV76: *You* have a beautiful body, bastard.

  MyBoyBlue4: You like the flex.

  LadyV76: I do. Thanks for the orgasm. I feel a million times better.

  MyBoyBlue4: Can this bastard be honest/personal for a sec?

  LadyV76: I may be the breaker of chains, but you’re the breaker of rules. My rules. But because you were such a good boy, I’ll let it slide. Just this once.

  MyBoyBlue4: You’re good at this. The power play shit. I’ve never done it with anyone before, and I’m clearly enjoying the hell out of it. It’s different, but a good different. I appreciate that about you.

  [A pause]

  MyBoyBlue4: Uh-oh. Did I get too personal?

  LadyV76: No. I’m…pleasantly shocked is all.

  MyBoyBlue4: By what? Me complimenting you?

  LadyV76: More like you complimenting me for being different. Not everyone appreciates that side of me. Especially my new coworker. I’m not sure what his deal is. But I am sure he loathes me.

  MyBoyBlue4: Fuck that guy for life. I think you’re better ’n grits. And that’s saying something, because I fucking love grits.

  LadyV76: You’re cute. Are you from the South?

  MyBoyBlue4: Carolina born and bred.

  LadyV76: Really? Me too. And no, I won’t tell you where.

  MyBoyBlue4: Girl, I get it. I’d never rush you, but I’m down to share more when you are. In the meantime…yeah, I also get the struggle of showing your real self to the world though. Different sides of yourself. This here, the side where I like to be fucked by a dragon lady, it’s a side I honestly didn’t know existed until I (virtually) met you. It’s hard to put myself out there. The real me, I mean. Sometimes I don’t know who the fuck the real me is.

  LadyV76: I know who I am. I just question it more than I should.

  MyBoyBlue4: Meaning?

  LadyV76: I’m ashamed to admit it. I feel like I should be past it by this point in my life. Still…some days, I’m certain I’m doing the right thing by being true to who I am and what I love. But others, I wonder if I’ll ever get where I want to go. And sometimes I wish I could change everything about myself.

  MyBoyBlue4: I like who you are.

  LadyV76: I like who you are too. Not a lot of guys are willing to submit themselves this way.

  MyBoyBlue4: It’s fun. Glad I gave it a shot. So when can we chat next?

  LadyV76: Work is going to be crazy for the next couple of days. Want to play it by ear?

  MyBoyBlue4: Sounds great. In the meantime, why don’t you kick your coworker’s ass the way you’re kicking mine? He might like it.

  LadyV76: Somehow I doubt that. Good night, Jon Snow.

  MyBoyBlue4: Sweet dreams, Khalessi. I hope tomorrow gets better.

  Chapter Seven

  Emma

  I don’t want to smile at Blue’s endearment. But I do.

  As I close my laptop, a weird feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

  I’m not tired. I feel equal parts full and empty. Nourished and starving.

  Nourished: great wine, better orgasm, even better win over Samuel. I have a lot to celebrate.

  Starving: I wish I had someone to celebrate with. Maybe the glaring dissonance between how full some parts of my life are, and how utterly empty the others can be, is what’s keeping me awake.

  I have the acute, unshakeable sense that I’m missing something. Because for the first time in forever, I’m wishing the sex I just had with Blue was real.

  I wish he was really here, body wrapped around mine as we had that conversation in person. I’ve never felt this way about someone I’ve chatted online with. I’ve never connected like that with any of the guys I’ve met virtually.

  I’ve also never been told what makes me different is also what makes me awesome. A girl could get used to that kind of praise.

  I startle at the distant sound of a splash, glancing over my shoulder at the windows beside the bed.

  My stomach dips. I remember what Hank said about my cabin practically being in Samuel’s backyard. From what I understand, each of the five Beauregard siblings has their own private residence here on the mountain.

  Does Samuel have a pool?

  Is he in it?

  And why does the starving side of me c
rave the answer to that question?

  Darting into the bathroom, I grab one of the fluffy robes hanging on the chrome hooks beside the shower. I shove my feet into my fur-lined boots and duck outside. It’s even darker than before. The air is cold but my skin is hot, and it takes several beats for my mind to catch up to my body.

  Am I really doing this?

  I guess my chat with Blue has emboldened me. So I follow the sounds of splashes a little way up the hill. I dart through a thicket of pine trees, praying the predatory animals in the area are still hibernating.

  A hulking building comes into view. It may be close to midnight, but the windows are lit up. The closer I get, the clearer I can make out just how massive the house is. It must be eight, hell, ten thousand square feet spread out over three floors. The roofline swoops elegantly into a stone terrace that I imagine has amazing views of the mountains beyond.

  Below the terrace, there’s a pool set into the hillside. It’s also lit up with the kind of pool lights that change colors from green to pink to red to blue. I creep closer, hiding behind a tree twenty or so feet from the pool’s edge. Steam rises off the surface of the water.

  It’s heated.

  So is my blood when my eyes catch on the figure that suddenly pops up in the middle of the pool. His naked shoulders gleam, muscles rippling against the skin as he raises his arms to wipe the hair out of his eyes.

  Those arms. They would make Wolverine weep. I swear to God the guy’s bicep is the size of my thigh.

  Heart pumping inside my chest, I watch him sink back into the water up to his chin. He turns, allowing me a perfect view of his profile. Sharp nose, full lips, scruffy jawline.

  Oh, it’s Samuel all right. Only this Samuel looks different. Could be the slicked-back hair or the way it gives him a Davidoff-model vibe.

  Or it could be the lost, almost vulnerable look in his eyes. He swims to the edge of the pool with long, sure strokes, and rests his forearms on the stone ledge. He looks out into the blackness—guess the staff was right to tell me he likes the night sky.

  He sighs. Shoulders slumping.

  With me, he’s got his dukes up. But here, he’s pensive and sad.

  I don’t want to be curious about what that sadness is about or where it comes from. He’s my coworker.