I block out the nagging voice in the back of my head that urges me to call the sheriff and have Jenna committed. She’s obviously delusional and needs professional help. Everyone knows Aspen doesn’t have a sister, only her older brother, Austin. Austin is a secret billionaire hiding in the mountains with Rue, the love of his life.
Did Jenna find out about Austin’s money and is now trying to scam some out of his family by claiming to be their long-lost sister? Why else would she try to stop Aspen’s wedding?
Rushing through my shower, I lather my skin with the body wash, taking time for a couple of quick strokes of my cock, trying to regain some sanity. But a few strokes aren’t enough to stop the craving I feel for Jenna.
Two strokes turn into three, then four, before I know it, I’m biting my tongue, swallowing Jenna’s name as my cum splatters against the shower wall, sliding down the drain and washing away.
“Fuck.” I moan, leaning my head against the shower wall, trying to steady my breathing. The last thing I need is for Jenna to think I’m some pervert jerking off in the next room.
After a quick rinse, I shut off the water, step out of the shower, grab a towel, and tie it low on my hips without taking the timeto dry off. Not caring about my lack of clothing, I open the bathroom door and find my spitfire right where I left her. But instead of glaring daggers at me, her eyes are traveling down my body, taking in every inch of my bare skin.
Unable to fight the desire I see shining in her eyes, my semi-hard cock rises to the occasion, tenting the towel like a beacon, calling to her to look at him.
“Oh, my.” I watch as her throat works hard to swallow her own spit, her eyes dropping to the towel around my waist. “You’re huge.”
A growl escapes my lips before I can stop it. “Well, it’s not going to get any smaller if you keep looking at it like that.”
“Oh.” Her plump lips make a circle as she continues to stare at me, making me want to stuff my cock between those same plump lips until she’s swallowing my cum.
Shit, where did that thought come from?
I’ve waited thirty-five years to make love to a woman, wanting to wait until I found someone I love who loves me in return. I can’t let lust and this curvy little beauty make me break my vow.
“Your turn.” I stomp over to the bed, untying her wrist closest to me, then reaching over her to untie her other wrist, when my towel decides to come undone and fall to the bed on top of her. “Damn it.” I finish untying her wrist, her eyes fixed on my naked cock bobbing inches away from her, then snatch up the towel and secure it around my waist, taking a step away from thebed. She doesn’t move, only blinks at me in surprise. Grabbing a clean flannel shirt from my closet, I toss it toward her. “Hurry up and shower, we have a lot to discuss.” I nod toward the bathroom door. “The window is too small for escape, so don’t even think about it.”
At my stern command, she jumps out of bed, clutching my shirt to her chest, and rushes into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
Only when I hear the shower turn on do I sigh in relief, willing my hard-on to go away, which is easier said than done.
six
Jenna
Irush through myshower, ignoring the hard points of my nipples as I run my soapy hands over my breasts. Ignoring my throbbing core is another matter entirely. With a moan, I slide my slick fingers through my equally slick pussy, searching for a tiny bit of relief, only to have a vision of Dash’s unbelievably large cock pop into my head. It’s the first one I’ve ever seen in person, and it definitely didn't disappoint.
I bite my lip, willing myself to stop thinking about Dash, the man who basically kidnapped me and prevented me from stopping Journee’s second wedding.
My attraction to Dash is insane. I don’t even know anything about him beyond the fact that he lives in a cabin in the woods and kidnapped me from a church. Definitely the start of a Dateline story. Except I don’t feel in danger—if anything, I feel safe, something I’ve never felt before.
Sure, I’ve had the protection of my parents' money and the money I make on my own from teaching dance classes with Journee, something our parents hate but have decided to overlook for now.
Being a trust fund baby isn’t something I want to be known for, nor is Journee—that’s why we refuse to touch any of it, instead deciding to save it for our children someday.
Speaking of Journee, I have to stop thinking about a stranger and start thinking about how to find her.
I turn off the water, slip out of the shower, dry off with the towel Dash left for me on the counter, and slip into his flannel shirt, foregoing my bra and panties.
It doesn’t take me long to find Dash in the kitchen, cooking what smells like bacon on the stove. “Mmm, are you making bacon?” I sigh, inhaling the delicious scent. I could eat it for every meal, though my parents find it beneath them. Who doesn’t love breakfast for dinner?
“And scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes, and milk.” Dash motions for me to take a seat at the kitchen table as he sets two heaping plates filled with everything he mentioned on the table, one for me and one for him, as he slides into the chair across from me. I pick up a crispy piece of bacon, just the way I like it, and stuff it into my mouth with a soft moan. “Who doesn’t love breakfast for dinner?” I choke at his words, the bacon hitting the back of my throat wrong.
“Um, right. I do.” I take a drink of milk, trying to clear my throat and hide my shock that we both like breakfast food at any time of day.
We eat in silence for a few minutes before he finally speaks. “So, about the wedding, why were you trying to stop Aspen and Wilder from getting married?”
“Aspen and Wilder?” The fork full of scrambled eggs pauses halfway to my mouth. “I was there to stop my sister, Journee, from marrying a man she barely knows.” I set the fork back on my plate, suddenly not interested in food. “Please tell me I didn’t try to stop the wrong wedding.”
“Sorry, Spitfire, but that is exactly what you tried to do.”
