my room after buying enough junk food from the little store by the motel, popping on some sappy romcom, and vegging out until I could get out of Candied. He didn’t need to know my depressing details though, and the longer I looked him, the more I didn’t want to be alone… if you get my drift. “What are your plans?” I asked back.
He was silent for a moment but then leaned back, allowing me to suck in a lungful of air. “Do you want to know what I planned on doing, or what I want to do instead?”
God, the desire and the promise laced in those words were my undoing. I’d never been wanton, never been bold. I didn't go home with men, especially not ones I just met. But I’d also never felt this connection, this arousal. It was insane, but it made me hungry and thirsty. I was starving. I was parched.
And I had a feeling the only antidote for those kinds of needs was the man right in front of me.
And so I nodded slowly. My lips felt swollen, the blood rising below the surface of my skin. They were probably red as hell, because I kept biting at them, pulling at the flesh.
“I think what you and I want to do are on the same level, wouldn’t you say?”
I nodded again. “You feel it?”
God, I’d really asked that, said it out loud. I could have kicked myself, but when he let out a low growl, I sucked in another breath.
He leaned in close again. “I fucking feel it, Penny.”
What in the hell was I doing?
Throwing caution to the wind? About to agree to let this mountain man fuck me every—any—way he saw fit?
And as I stared into his blue eyes, the answer was simple.
I sure as hell was. I only lived once and was only in town for the weekend. Why not go balls to the wall?
Chapter Six
I was drunk. Well, not drunk-drunk, as in I didn't know what I was doing or who I was going to do it with. But buzzed enough that this wild energy hummed through me.
Charlie had held my hand in a vice-like grip as he led me out of the restaurant and to his dark SUV, which was parked right in front of the establishment. Then, once we were both inside the vehicle, the heater blasting to stem off the chill in the air, he’d grabbed my hand again and hadn’t let it go until we were in his house.
And that’s where I was now, standing in his bedroom, looking at him, at all the raw, very male power that spilled from him like gasoline onto a fire.
I thought about dinner, how I felt when I sat next to him, how I’d been wet, ready, and the small, innocent touches had only whet my appetite, made me greedy for more.
I’d consumed far more alcohol than I normally did, and he hadn’t drunk a drop of booze, just water, as I felt his eyes on me the entire time. In fact, I don’t think he stopped looking at me until we were in the car and he had to focus on driving.
This is crazy. This is so damn senseless… yet I’ve never felt anything more perfect.
“Is this what you want?” he asked in that deep voice that sounded so very raw, so very male. “Am I what you want?”
I licked my lips and nodded, because frankly I didn’t think I could have formed a coherent word in that moment. My nipples were hard, pressing against my shirt. They ached, the mounds feeling heavy. I was wet—soaked, in fact. My panties were drenched, rubbing against the most intimate part of my body.
“I’ve never done this,” I blurted out suddenly, wanting to make it known that I didn’t just go home with strangers and fuck them.
“Neither have I,” he responded deeply, darkly, and took a step toward me.
I couldn’t breathe. The air was so thick, so hot. I’d only gotten a quick glance at the exterior of his place before he pulled me inside.
Two-story log cabin.
A wraparound deck.
And the only holiday decoration he had was a small potted pine tree right by the front door. His lack of holiday shit covering his place… turned me on.
Once inside, I’d only had a moment to glance around before we were all but hauling ass to his room.
His home was rustic, with exposed wooden beams on the ceiling, a massive fireplace, the kitchen and huge