I stare at him, my pussy clenching in a slow squeeze as I picture how a good girl and cake go together.Does he feed the cake to me? Do I feed it to him? Am I on my knees? Is he commanding me to crawl?
What about Benny? What would he think if he knew his baby sister were on her knees feeding his best friend chocolate cake? He’d kill us both… that’s what.
I need to hold it together!
My heart squeezes as we pull up to the old mill house that overlooks the valley where the wild horses like to congregate. It’s gorgeous but I don’t tell him because I don’t want him to think I’m happy to be here.
I’m not. I had plans. Big plans. Plans that involved losing my virginity for fifty thousand dollars. Ryker pretty much kidnapped me. The fact that I’m curious about what’s going to happen next is merely a side effect of my love for mysteries.
We climb down out of the truck, and I follow him toward the house, tugging down the dress I didn’t have time to change out of.
Damn, this thing is short. Way too short. I’ve never worn anything this short in my life.
“I’m going to get the pasta started.” He gives me a once over and glances toward the house. “You go get some clothes on.”
I glance down at the dress I bought for tonight’s devirginizing. “I have clothes on.”
“Put real clothes on,” he groans as he unlocks the front door. “I’ve got plenty in my dresser.”
If this dress weren’t so insanely uncomfortable, I might fight him, but I’ve been desperate to take it off since I put it on. I don’t know why anyone would ever want to wear something this tight, or short, or revealing. That said, tonight was about making money while offering another man his fantasy. Most men like short and tight. That, and I read that the color red tricks a man into thinking your pretty. It’s something about how red makes the heart beat faster. Maybe the dress worked too well on Ryker. Maybe when I take it off, the spell will be broken.
Yes, that’s exactly what this is. It’s the dress. The color of the dress. I’ve inadvertently seduced him. That’s it. The second this dress is off, everything will go back to normal.
He swings open the front door and we step inside the warmth of the sprawling modern cabin. I knew he was having the place renovated, but I didn’t expect it to be so beautiful. Granite counters, a big picture window overlooking the valley, every modern appliance known to man, and expensive looking paintings of the mountain range hung above the sofa. I’ve never known Ryker as a rich man, but I imagine his parent distillery in the Springs did pretty well for he and his brothers to branch out here.
I’m breathing in the scent of pine and admiring the place when I realize Ryker has gone straight to work on dinner. No formal tour, no history on the antique farm equipment that hangs on the wall, just a cold drop in the center of the cozy cabin’s warmth.
It’s not a huge place so I follow the wide hallway past the bathroom and toward two rooms on opposite sides of the hall. The one on the left is fairly empty with a bed, a dresser, and a painting of the old mill pre-renovation. I’ve never been a history buff, but it really makes me appreciate how old this land is and how many lives must have passed through here.
I wonder if any of the women that used to live in this mill were ever dodging a virgin auction while secretly hoping their big, sexy, inked-up, much older, brother’s best friend would make some moves.
Something tells me I’m the first.
The room on the opposite side of the hall is a larger space with a king bed, a tall dresser, and a shelf displaying vintage shot glasses. This must be Ryker’s room. He’s been collecting since before we met. Every new place he’d travel to he’d get a shotglass. I’d say he has at least thirty now. I make a note to check them out after I get out of this uncomfortable dress.
I pull open the top drawer and tug out the first sweatshirt I see. A gray football hoodie with a tear on the left sleeve. I remember the day he snagged this. We were at the diner with Benny for burgers and fries. The sweatshirt caught on a jutting nail in the booth. Our waitress gave us free milkshakes once she saw what happened. She didn’t have to. Ryker didn’t care about the hoodie. Come to think of it, she wasveryfriendly with him. Then again, most women are very friendly with Ryker.
I stuff that sweatshirt back in the drawer and pull out another one. This one I have no memory of. It’s plain black with no distinguishing marks at all, though it smells just like him.
I love that it smells just like him. I want every inch of me to smell just like him.
My chest tightens as I toss the shirt onto the bed and fumble with my zipper. I was able to squeeze into the dress with the zipper mostly up. I don’t think I’ll be able to squeeze out the same way.
Why do they put zippers on the back of a dress anyway? Why not up the side?
I’m contorting to reach the hook when I hear heavy footsteps in the hall.
“You need help?” His voice is so low that it sends a buzz straight through me. The kind of buzz that tells me how excited my body is at the thought of him touching me again, even if it’s just to help with a zipper.
“Sure.” I shrug. “Yeah… I guess.” I twist my hair to the side of my shoulder and lower my chin to my chest as I turn away from him and wait.
A second later, the tips of his rough fingers reach the back of my neck, slow and steady. I close my eyes, feeling the weight of him behind me as the zipper slides down slowly.
Oh God! Nothing has happened, but my clit won’t stop throbbing!
A low, subtle grunt exhales from his lips as the back of my dress opens and cool air rushes in.
I stand quiet, trembling and buzzing head to toe, as the weight of his rough hand lingers at the base of my spine.
