Her door cracks open and her bare leg slides out, my cock growing harder and harder as she stands and reaches for her bags in the back. I take them from her one by one, before she hands me a guitar case with stickers peeling up from the edges.
Cartoon pandas, hearts, and a cluster of butterflies with mismatched wings. I’m not sure what it is about this that throws me off, but suddenly, I’m very aware of her age.
She’s twenty-two. She still collects stickers. She’s young, curious, and horny. She doesn’t know what she’s doing yet.
I have no business touching her. No business yanking down her panties, bending her over, knowing what she tastes like. No business talking to her, holding her, making her mine.
No, this has to stay professional. I can’t risk the distillery, I can’t risk my reputation, and I certainly can’t risk my daughter’s reaction if she knew I was screwing around with a girl younger than her.
Tonight is about helping an employee. That’s all. That’s all it can ever be.
Chapter Five
Marin
I probably shouldn’t like this, but my entire body is on fire with some kind of energy I’ve never felt before. Suddenly, my breasts feel swollen, my clit won’t stop throbbing, and I’m needy and desperate for touch. For Archer’s touch. For his eyes. For the way he looked at me when I was spread eagle on his desk scrubbing that vibrator over my clit. For the hungry, fevered desperation in his hands when he spanked my ass for being so naughty. Ugh—
My pussy tightens as I lean my head back, letting the hot water roll down over my shoulders. It feels so good to finally get an untimed shower. For weeks now I’ve been at the truck stop on the outskirts of the mountain. You’d think two dollars would get a girl longer than five minutes, but that water turns off promptly and without warning. I often still have soap in my hair and my towel nowhere in reach.
Now, I get the full-on heat of a warm shower for as long as my heart contends and I’m pretty sure there’s a hot meal coming too. I heard pots and pans clanging together as I entered the bathroom.
I feel so… taken care of. I’m not sure that’s a feeling I’ve ever truly had before.
Sure, my ex would act like he cared, and every once in a while, he’d come home with a bouquet of flowers or he’d pretendto listen to me talk about my music, but deep down I never truly felt like he was present, like he really wanted to be there for me. Not like this.
When Archer picked me up today, I felt his desire to protect me deep within my bones. It’s enthralling, that level of care. It’s addictive, all-consuming, and I want to return it to him tenfold.
For a second, I imagine what that would look like, a life with reciprocity. A life where two people care for one another. A life where the days are easy and kind. That feeling sounds just as good as the physical needs currently coursing through me at light speed.
Tilting my head back, I close my eyes and let the hot water flow down my back and over my shoulders as I try not to think about how he looked at me in his office. It’s a look I’ve never seen on another human.
It was feral, needy, aching, desperate.
My clit aches to be touched and I figure now is the time to get out of the shower before I get caught with the shower head between my legs, though maybe that’s what I want. Another spanking. Another stern talking to. Another reason for Archer to lose his cool and demand I do things he’d never tell me to do if the blood weren’t all rushing to his cock.
When I pull open the shower curtain, he’s there, a towel and a T-shirt in his hands, his eyes wide. “This has to stop happening.”
I could reach for the towel on the hanger by the door, but like the little tease I am, I stay dripping wet, staring at him. “You did walk into the bathroom while I was taking a shower so… I kinda think you did this on purpose. You can’t fake ignorance this time.”
His gaze drops to my tits and up again as a slow growl rumbles in his throat. “You’re a little brat.”
“You like that I’m a brat, though, don’t you?” I twist my hair to the side and squeeze the water out.
“You’re playing with fire.”
“I can take it.”
The muscles in his shoulders tense as I watch his gaze follow my curves down and up again. His cock is hard, fighting with the restraint of his zipper. “Get dressed. I made dinner.”
He’s barely finished the sentence before the door slams shut, shaking the framed mirror above the sink.
He’s seen me. He’s seen me completely nude and I’m positive now that he wants me. He wants me as badly as I want him. I make his cock hard. I make him all flustered. I make him growl and lose control.
God, I want him to lose control.
I grab the warm towel he left off the counter and wrap it around me before stepping onto the cold stone floor. There’re no floor mats, and from what I’ve seen of the cabin, it’s very minimal, very obvious a man lives here alone. I wonder when his last relationship was, where he gets his needs fulfilled, how long he’s been flying solo.
Scrubbing the towel through my hair, I tie it on top of my head before pulling down the T-shirt he brought in for me to wear. I have my own clothes, but they could use a wash, and honestly, I’m looking for a reason to get swallowed up in his musk, in the fabric that usually lays against his chest.
