“I am a new century woman, friend,” I say with a snarky look. “I just slept with him before I got his number. Never even got his last name.”
“Wilde. His last name is Wilde. Been up at the landing a few years. Never once has he taken a woman out of here. No mention of any other women. Not that you asked, but just thought you might care to know.”
Flushing because, yeah, I want to know that I nod my head. I become very busy washing glasses while I think about what she said. His place is tucked up on the mountain and something told me he rarely receives visitors. Not just a random woman he brought home from a bar—but no one at all.
Why does my grumpy lumberjack hide up on that mountain?
Just thinking about him being up there now, wondering what I am doing down here, worries me. If I had just talked to him last night. Told him a little about me, about why I had to go in a rush. Rubbing at the tender tips of my fingers, I sigh. It is not something I tell people because I hate admitting it.
“Hey uh...would you mind too much if I...” Tre grins at me before I can even finish asking.
“No, Ido notmind. Go see that lumberjack of yours, babes.”
Laughing, I hang up my apron and go. Before I head up the mountain, I stop at my place above the bar. It is a little shoebox of an apartment, but it’s safe, it’s cheap, and I’ve tried to make it with some bright curtains and cute knickknacks here and there. Smiling at my favorite, a bright pink Minnie Mouse mirror hanging by the door, I head out.
Slinging my sparkling Minnie Mouse backpack over my back, I climb on my bright red Vespa and take off. It’s twilight as I head for the cabin, the skies amber overhead. The air is crisp and cool, smelling of the burning fires sending puffs of smoke from smokestacks. I recall his fireplace going last night and suddenly all I want is to be cuddled up with him, skin to skin, as we talk about why I left. Maybe we just talk about why I went home with him.
Reaching the cabin, I take a moment to appreciate it. It is cute and small, perfect for just us. Something warm burns in my chest, much like the fire burning inside. I have not had a home in a very long time. Not just a place. That feeling you get when you go home and the pictures on the wall show your life, the books on the shelves are well-read, and the kitchen always has your favorite tea in the cabinet and a worn table from a dozen dinners with good conversation and laughter.
“Sebastian is a place I could call home,” I whisper to myself.
Parking the Vespa beside his battered truck, I climb off, then bound up the steps. I do not knock. Something tells me he wouldn’t mind. I let myself in, knowing he wouldn’t bother to lock the door. Who is going to bust in on a huge lumberjack who has an axe on hand?
“Sebastian? I’m home, sugar,” I tease beneath my breath as I close the door behind me.
There is no sign of him on the first floor, but I wander around a little, anyway. We never got to a tour last night. Passing the fireplace—where a small fire still burns—I circle the small kitchen, taking it all in. Closing my eyes, I imagine being here, making him a meal as he tells me about his day on the landing. I never saw myself as a domestic diva, but here we are.
Climbing the stairs, I undress as I go. I could make a fool of myself coming here, climbing right in bed with him, but I hope not. Besides, I have done plenty of foolish things—none of them come close to how being with Sebastian feels. It would be worth the risk of being a fool for him.
Stepping inside the bedroom, I find him fast asleep. Smiling as I round the bed, I reach down to brush a lock of dark hair off his forehead. Spotting my panties clutched in his hands, I am filled with relief. Good. I am not going to make a fool of myself here. Pulling back the sheets, I climb in next to him, warmed by his bare skin as I press close.
“Hmm, baby,” he hums, his thick arms winding around me.
All at once, his big body goes still. His head rears back, his eyes fluttering in the dim light of the bedroom. Those dark eyes of his darken to almost black as his hands tighten on me, pulling me hard against his chest. I gasp as he moves us, pinning me beneath him as his eyes grow wild.
Having him pin me down turns me on. I rub against him greedily, feeling the heavy weight of his erection against my thigh. I reach out to touch him, to feel him beneath my fingertips, but he stops me. Grabbing my hands, he clasps them at the wrists, slamming them above my head. I am not afraid even though we barely know each other. I trust he would never hurt me.
“Truth or dare,” I whisper as he stares accusingly, his chest heaving with his labored breaths, his body trembling against mine.
“Dare,” he rasps, dipping his head to drag his mouth up my jaw, to press his mouth against my ear. “About to fuck you until you beg me to stop. Dare you to tell me to stop,” he growls as he rubs his cock against my bare slit.
Whimpering, I shake my head. I do not want him to stop. I cry out as he thrusts deep in one fluid motion, his head lowering to seal his mouth to mine. His kiss is demanding, angry, fueled by hunger and need. I fight back, licking his mouth hungrily, sucking greedily at his tongue. His teeth nip my lip, and I moan, daring him to hurt me, to push me, to take whatever he needs to take.
“Yes, yes,” I pant as he draws back, growling that deep, raw growl that just makes me wetter around his pounding cock. “Am I being punished?”
“Yes, I want to punish you. I want to hurt you. Will you let me? Do you dare let me hurt you, Scout?”
“Yes, baby,” I moan as he reaches between us, pinching my clit hard, sending fissures of pleasure through me.
Sebastian pulls back, flipping me beneath him. Drawing me up on my knees, he drags my ass back and I wait for him to slam back into me. He does not. His hand comes down on my left cheek, stinging it with a slap. I jerk, but I am overwhelmed with the pleasure that zings right to my clit. He smacks the other cheek, and I mewl, falling forward on my arms.
“That’s it, give me what I need, baby. Come back, take my cock in that little cunt,” he smacks me again and grips a fistful of my hair and I shout in pleasure as I rock back, letting him shove deep inside me from behind.
Shuddering beneath him as he pounds into me, I arc to his powerful thrusts. His hand still fists my hair, yanking my head back. Bending over me, he claims my mouth in a brutal kiss, whispering filthy words, telling me how I belong to him now, how he wants to own me, to punish me, please me.
“Oh god. Oh yes. I am going to come. Sebastian, please...” I cry out as he chuckles and pulls out of me, smothering my orgasm before it comes.
“Come here, open that greedy mouth,” he commands as he bends me to the side, his cock shoving down my throat in a single thrust. “Ah, that’s it. That’s it, good girl. Don’t you let me come in your mouth. My cum goes in your pussy and nowhere else. That is where it belongs. Nod your head. Tell me where my cum belongs, baby,” he growls, pulling me off his dick with a pop, bending to stare into my eyes as he waits.
