Her Maine Reaction

by Rebecca Gannon

  Pulling out slowly, I feel sparks shooting from every nerve ending in my body. And when he thrusts forward, a strangled moan is torn from deep within me.

  Moving in and out of me, Ryan takes me with a frenzied passion.

  He hits a spot no man ever has.

  He fills me, and splits me open.

  The dreams I’ve had every night since I first had him pale in comparison to the reality of having Ryan here–moving in me, with me, against me.

  My imagination didn’t do this justice.

  I feel like I’m being pulled into a current of the swirling waters of a hurricane. I’m drowning in the perfect storm that is Ryan Taylor.

  “Come with me, Ashley,” he murmurs against my skin before taking my left nipple into his mouth.

  With one final thrust, I let go, my body splitting in two as I come undone. My screams fill the early morning air as Ryan scrapes his teeth up my throat.

  “You make me crazy, sweetheart.”

  “Ryan,” I whisper, running my hands through his short hair.

  Holding his head against me, he kisses his way up my neck and across my jaw to my lips–gently nibbling on my bottom lip before kissing me sweetly.

  When he slowly pulls out of me, he rolls over, taking me with him so I’m draped over his chest. Wrapping his arm around my waist, he holds me against him, and I drift off back to sleep.

  Chapter 14

  Waking sometime later, I spread my hand out next to me, but only find cold sheets where Ryan should be. Opening my eyes, I scan the room, but he’s not here, and his clothes are gone.

  Eyeing the bedframe’s bars behind me, I smile to myself, pulling the comforter up to my mouth. Damn, he’s good.

  Glancing at the pillow next to me, I find a piece of paper with large scrawling script.

  Morning beautiful,

  I didn’t want to wake you because you looked so peaceful, but I had to go into work. I wish I could spend all day in bed with you – holding you, kissing you, and fucking you senseless. On my next day off, we’ll do just that.

  I’ll be home after 6.

  -Ry

  Smiling like a fool, I hold the piece of paper to my chest and roll onto my back. I actually feel giddy right now. I can’t remember the last time I felt giddy over a man. Probably high school, if then, even. But I know I’ve never felt like this.

  Pulling the comforter tighter around my shoulders, I curl back on my side and bring his pillow to my face, inhaling his scent that he left behind. That spicy, woodsy smell is so intoxicating.

  Peeking over at the clock on the bedside table, I see that it’s only nine. Oh my God, I have to kill nine hours before he gets home?

  Groaning, I throw the covers off of me and shuffle down the hall to the bathroom. I hate that I can’t even take a hot shower because the power is out.

  Splashing cold water on my face, I brush my teeth, and try and get my curls in order, but my hair is a mess. Giving up, I throw it up in a high bun, and head back to my room to get dressed.

  Today–surprise, surprise–I go with leggings and an oversized sweater. This one, though, is hunter green, and really brings out the green in my eyes.

  Throwing on a pair of fuzzy socks, I head downstairs and scope out the bookshelves around the fireplace for a book to read. But as I’m scanning the shelves, I see another note for me–this one taped to the mantle.

  Morning beautiful,

  I hope you’re dressed warm, but if not, I started a fire for you. Just add more logs when it starts to die down. And if clothes are too tiresome to put on your perfect body, feel free to wait for me naked, laid out by fire, the flames casting a warm glow across your silky skin. That’d be more than okay with me.

  And if you’re not naked now, you will be soon…

  -Ry

  Smiling, I shake my head. He thought I’d walk around his house naked? When it’s freaking freezing?

  He has one thing right, though. I will be naked soon…

  Hmm, maybe I’ll let him come home to a little surprise.

  Scanning the shelves again, my eyes catch on the gold patterned spine of Jane Eyre. Pulling it out, I feel the smooth, old leather. It’s slightly worn, but still beautiful.

  I’m about to settle into the couch when my stomach growls in protest. Placing the book on the table, I walk into the kitchen, and find another note on the counter next to a thermos.

  Morning beautiful,

  I’m sorry you can’t have coffee, but I made you hot chocolate, and it’s in the thermos.

  I wouldn’t open the fridge, just to preserve what’s in there, but I’ve left out all the good cereal options to eat without milk. And there’s a bowl of fruit if you want as well. Search around for anything you’d like, though.

  Make yourself at home.

  -Ry

  I think this man had the goal of making me like him even more when he woke up today. And it worked.

  Smiling, I take a sip from the thermos, and my eyes roll back when the delicious liquid chocolate hits my tongue. Seriously, this tastes like he melted a bar of chocolate and poured it in here.

  Heaven. Pure heaven.

  I grab the box of Frosted Flakes, and I take it, and the thermos, with me to the couch. Popping the box open, I fist a handful of cereal and funnel it into my mouth with zero shame since no one’s here to see me. I love this cereal without milk. I think it’s better that way, actually.

  Tucking my feet under me, I grab the blanket on the back of the couch, and cover my legs. With the hot cocoa and cereal next to me, I reach for Jane Eyre and settle in for a long day of reading and relaxing. I’m quickly realizing I need to make sure I have more of this in my life. Pure relaxation.

  ∞∞∞

  Shivering, I look up from reading, and see that the fire has all but died out. Shit, no wonder I’m fucking freezing.

  Standing, I take the fire poker and jab at the logs, making the sparks light again as I add two more logs from the basket beside the fireplace.

  Sitting back down, I notice my phone on the table. I forgot that I left it down here last night. Picking it up, I smile when I see a text from Ryan.

  I’m sitting here at work and all I can think about is you. You naked under me. You naked with my mouth all over you. You naked, laid out in front of the fireplace as I sink into your warm, pliant body. I should be doing paperwork, but all I can think about is you.

  I think he’s trying to kill me.

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, I throw my head back against the couch and stare up at the ceiling.

  I have to leave eventually. I have to get back and find a job. I have to try and forget this ever happened. But if I couldn’t forget a night seven months ago when I was drunk, then I sure as fuck know I’ll never forget these days with him.

  I’m screwed.

  And yet, at this moment, I’d happily take the lonely months to come if it meant I got to have these days, and nights, with him.

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I look back down at my phone, and contemplate how I should respond. Hmm…

  Sheriff Taylor, are you wasting taxpayer’s money thinking about me instead of working? I can’t say I mind, though. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you to. I was relaxing on your couch, drinking my delicious hot chocolate and reading, but then I read your message…And now all I can think about is you, and you doing any and everything you want to me. It’s too bad we both have to wait until six to do anything about it. Oh wait, I’m here alone. So, I guess I can…

  Smiling, I pull the blanket tighter around me and sink down into the cushions. I wasn’t bluffing when I said that last part.

  But just when I’m about to maybe do something about the knot forming in my stomach, my phone vibrates.

  Don’t you fucking dare touch yourself, Ashley. I want you thinking about nothing but my hands running up your legs, my mouth on you, and my cock filling you until I’m there to do it myself.

  Oh my God.

  I’ll know if you do. He
adds. I want your body so wound up that it’s dripping for me when I walk through the door.

  Groaning, I slide down so I’m laid out on the couch, and my hand starts to drift to the waistband of my leggings. But another text interrupts me.

  I said no, Ashley.

  What the fuck? How did he know?

  Poking my head out from the blanket, I look around, thinking he can somehow see me.

  Can you see me?

  No. I just know. And if you touch yourself before I get home, I’m going to have to punish you.

  We’ll see, sheriff. I smile to myself. Punish me? What would he do?

  You’ve been warned, sweetheart. But I’ll enjoy it either way.

  How so?

  Imagine my hands on you now, skimming up your calves and thighs, spreading you wide. With one pass of my tongue, I have you whimpering beneath me, the breathy moans coming from your pouty lips making me harder than I’ve ever been. Sucking your clit into my mouth, you arch your back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream for more. You always want more.

  Ryan…

  I don’t even know what else to say. I can’t believe he’s texting me this right now. My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I look down, my face hot. He’s not done with this yet.

  My thick fingers work in and out of your hot channel. And when I have you on the edge, I stop. Your eyes search mine with a disbelief that’d I’d dare stop what I was doing. But it’s my cock I want you coming around, not my fingers. Spreading you even wider, I thrust into you in one swift motion. Over and over, I pound into you, hitting that spot no man but me can even reach inside of you. Your inner walls squeeze me like a vice. So tight, so hot.

  Jesus, he’s trying to kill me.

  I take you to your breaking point, but then slow down, and drag it out. I keep doing it. I torture you, tease you, make you beg for me to stop – make you beg for me to just give you what you want. And when you do, that’s when I give you everything. With one final thrust, I grind into your clit and take your nipple deep into my mouth, pinching the other one as hard as I can. You milk my cock for everything it has to give you, and I fill you so completely, it spills out.

  Holy fucking shit. I think I’m going to combust just from reading this. My clit is throbbing, and when I rub my thighs together, I can feel how slick I am.

  I need him. Right fucking now.

  When you’re with me, you’re mine, Ashley.

  His.

  I’m his?

  I like the idea of that way too much. I’m in this too deep. I have to go home in a few days, and if I start thinking of Ryan as mine, and being his, then that’s going to make leaving more painful than it’ll probably already be.

  All Ryan did was rescue me from potential starvation and hypothermia, and then brought me to his house to stay with him until the storm passes.

  But what about after? Am I supposed to pack up and leave? Go back to Dottie’s? Go home?

  I didn’t think this through at all. I can’t get my hopes up. I can’t start believing that this little arrangement we have going is a real thing.

  Glancing back down at my phone, though, my thoughts dissolve as I read his messages again.

  I’m fucking fucked.

  This man is going to break my heart. I know he is.

  But if that’s the case, then I might as well enjoy the ride, right? Just like Keats, I’ll take the few days of bliss.

  Biting my lip, I don’t even think about what I want to say, I just start typing. Apparently, I’ll be going down with the sinking ship that is my sanity.

  What if I told you I was breaking your rule right now, sheriff? What if I told you that it’s your fault? I’m flushed, flustered, and so desperately wishing you were here right now to see what your messages are doing to me.

  He answers immediately. What did they do to you, sweetheart? Are you slick between your thighs, and ready for me to just slide right in?

  A little moan escapes my lips as I rub my legs together, trying to hold off.

  Yes.

  Are you touching yourself yet?

  No.

  Do it. Take your leggings off right now.

  I don’t even care how he can guess what I’m wearing right now, I just hook my thumbs in the waistband of my leggings and peel them down my legs.

  Okay…

  Now, spread your sexy legs wide, and run a finger down your wet folds – feeling what I do to you.

  Sighing, I sit up straighter, and throw one leg over the back of the couch, doing exactly as he says–a shudder rocking through my body at the first touch.

  Drag it back up and circle your clit for me, rubbing it in tight little circles. Your fingers are my fingers. The little sparks running up your spine and down your legs are because of me.

  Moaning, I can barely finish reading his message before I have to close my eyes and give in to his words–pretending he’s here.

  I peel my eyes open when another message comes.

  Tease yourself, sweetheart. Insert your finger halfway, and then take it back out – spread your sweet cream up and around your clit. Press down hard, and then scrape your nail over the tight bud. Feel the shudder ripple through you – that’s me.

  It’s working. I can hear his voice in my head, and I can feel his hands on me, even though I know it’s just me.

  Circle your entrance – feel the need, feel your muscles clench in anticipation.

  How does he know? How can he do this to me through texts? I’m gripping my phone so tightly in my left hand, I wouldn’t be surprised if I break it.

  Shove two fingers all the way inside of your heat, and curl them towards you.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I bite my lip to keep from groaning too loud. I know no one’s here, but it feels like I’m doing something wrong somehow.

  Use the heel of your hand to rub yourself as you pump in and out of your tight, hot, little channel. I know your shaking, but keep going. Add a third finger – mine are bigger than yours.

  Oh my God. Groaning long ang low, my legs start to shake, but I do as he says. I need to.

  Harder. Faster. Rub your clit. Feel me, Ashley.

  Fuck.

  I drop my phone on the floor, but I don’t need it anymore. Closing my eyes, I snake my hand under my sweater and pull my bra down, pinching my nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger.

  My breathing is coming rapid. I’m so close, I can feel it.

  Curling into myself, I grind against my hand. Rubbing the heel of my palm against my tight bundle of nerves, I pinch my nipple as hard as I can. Shaking, my body can’t take anymore, and it hits me like a freight train.

  I let go, giving into wave after wave as they wash over me, and through me.

  I’ve never had it like that with myself before. So intense, so sensual.

  Ryan just took something that is usually my own private thing, and made it his. He found a way to control me even when he’s not here. This power he has over me, and my body, scares me more than I’d like to think about right now.

  I rock my hips, creating little shocks that set me off again, and my core clenches around my fingers–pretending they’re Ryan’s.

  Exhausted, I sink into the cushions and sigh, my head falling back against the armrest.

  Breathing in and out, I keep my eyes closed, slowly starting to drift off in a post orgasmic haze. But a faint buzzing noise makes me turn my head, and I look down at my phone on the floor. Ryan’s calling me.

  Reaching for it, I suddenly feel nervous and shy about what I–or we–just did. Chewing on my bottom lip, I swipe to answer and hold it to my ear, afraid to speak.

  “Ashley.” His deep, gravelly voice comes through the phone and I close my eyes, loving the way it vibrates through me. “Did you do everything I said?”

  Nodding, I realize he can’t see me, so I open my mouth, but no words will form.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he rasps, and I rub a circle around my clit again, sighing as I feel another
shockwave run down my legs. “Are you still touching yourself, sweetheart?”

  “Mmhmm,” I hum, still not able to form words.

  “Fuck.” He growls, his restraint stretched thin. “I’ll be home at six. Be naked, and be ready for your punishment.”

  Before I can even answer, or process what he said, he hangs up, leaving me staring at my phone.

  My punishment?

  Oh.

  My foggy post-orgasm brain starts to clear, and I realize I just played right into his game. And I lost.

  Damn it.

  Well, at least if I’m going to lose, then I lose while in utter, and complete, bliss.

  Chapter 15

  I spend the rest of the afternoon nervous and bouncing around. Every sound I hear makes me jump, and every silent moment makes me think too much.

  The hours tick by like snails trying to cross the sidewalk–slow and strenuous.

  I try and read, and I try to sleep to pass the time, but neither works. When I take to pacing around his house, I all but drive myself to the point of insanity. Frustrated, I take the stairs two at a time and head into my room. I strip my clothes and grab the towel I used yesterday, and a razor from my bag, before heading down the hall to the bathroom. I don’t care if the water is like ice, I need to shock my body out of this crazed state I’m in.

  I turn the water on and stick my hand under the spray, a stream of curse words flying out of my mouth. It’s fucking cold!

  “Suck it up, Ash. Just do it,” I tell myself. Rolling my shoulders back a few times, I bounce from foot to foot to get my blood flowing, trying to work up the nerve.

  Tightening the bun on my head so it doesn’t fall loose, I pull the curtain back and step over the tub into the shower, screaming when the water hits my skin. It feels like a thousand needles stabbing me from every angle, and over my entire body. What the fuck was I thinking?!

  Sucking in breaths of air, my lungs constrict, but I force the air through anyway. My hands shake, but I shave my legs as fast as I can, and miraculously don’t nick myself in the process.

  With convulsions taking over my body, I reach for the rose body wash I left in here yesterday, and drop it–my hands numb.