There was something about a man with manners.

Jameson Bodine left a trail of melted panties from the mountains of West Virginia all the way to sunny California. From the ticketing agents, to the waitress in the airport restaurant, to the flight attendants on our cross-country flight, to the hotel staff in L.A. He said pardon me, and please, and thank you ma’am in that adorable Appalachian drawl. Tipped his hat. Gave them his boyish grin. Didn’t want to trouble anyone for anything, but sure was grateful for it all, even when they were just doing their jobs.

I caught at least half a dozen women watching him with dreamy eyes. The flight attendants fawned over him. The waitress at the airport looked like she would have slipped him her number if I hadn’t been there.

The farther we got from Bootleg Springs, the more pronounced the Jameson effect became. The woman who checked us in at the hotel fanned herself—actually fanned herself—as soon as he started talking.

Maybe some women would be jealous of their boyfriend getting so much attention from other women. Not me. I loved it. It wasn’t that I needed other women noticing him to realize what I had. It was just so adorable. He clearly had no idea the effect he had on women. I was sure that to him, he was just being polite. He didn’t seem to notice their reactions at all.

And yes, I did indulge in a little satisfaction over knowing he was mine. Besides, I could hardly blame them. I found him irresistible, too. I was just the lucky girl who got to keep him.

“The hotel’s nice, at least.” He put our bags down and surveyed the room, his hands on his hips, a battered ball cap on his head. “I reckon we’ll be comfortable.”

Our room wasn’t fancy, but it did have a big king-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter. I kicked off my shoes and hung up my garment bag with my dress for tomorrow night.

It was strange being back in L.A. From the moment we’d walked off the plane, I’d felt odd. I’d been hiding away from the outside world while I was in Bootleg Springs, and here I was, smack in the middle of it again. I felt like a different person from the woman who’d been living here with Kelvin Graham. Leah Larkin had been convinced she wanted to be famous. She’d clung to a little girl’s dream long past the time she should have moved on.

Going home to Bootleg Springs had opened my eyes. It had reminded me of who I was—who I’d been before agents and managers and fashion clients had told me who to be. And that girl—Leah Mae—knew there was a better life for her out there somewhere. And it wasn’t chasing fame in Hollywood.

I had no qualms about walking away from this place—this life. Leaving L.A. for good and finding a new dream. The problem was, I still didn’t know where I was going. Back to Bootleg Springs? To do what? I couldn’t very well just live in Scarlett’s cabin, date Jameson, and do nothing else. I’d run out of money, for one. I’d earned a good living as a model, but my lifestyle with Kelvin had been expensive. I certainly hadn’t earned enough to retire at twenty-eight. And I had my dad to think about. He was getting better, but I wanted to be able to help him financially if he did get sick again.

It wasn’t just the money. I needed something—a vocation or a career. I needed to be productive. Have purpose to my life outside of the man I was dating.

I was still adrift, floating in a sea of indecision and uncertainty. I’d taken aptitude tests and career path quizzes. I had interests, and ideas, but I still felt like I didn’t know what to do with the rest of my life. And how that life could be lived in Bootleg Springs.

I loved Bootleg. It was home in a way no other place in the world would ever be. But jobs in a small town were scarce. It had been easy to get lost in Jameson, and in Bootleg’s magic. Where time seemed to move slowly, and the cares of the outside world weren’t so important. I’d indulged in that for too long now, and soon I’d need to make some hard choices.

Jameson stretched out on the bed, and I hung his suit next to my dress. We’d gone into Perrinville to buy it a few days ago. Bootleg Springs didn’t exactly have a store with formal menswear. I almost hadn’t recognized him when he’d come out of the dressing room. It was the one good thing about this studio event. I was definitely looking forward to seeing him all dressed up. Jameson Bodine cleaned up good.

Glancing over at him, I smiled. His ball cap had shifted partway down his forehead, almost covering his eyes, and he’d fallen asleep. I wasn’t surprised. It had been a long day.

I climbed onto the bed next to him and got comfortable. I wasn’t sure how to properly express how much it meant to me that he was here. A part of me didn’t want to face tomorrow. I wanted to stay hidden—cozy up with Jameson in his bedroom and pretend the outside world didn’t exist. That I’d never done that stupid reality show, and no one believed I’d seduced Brock Winston and convinced him to cheat on his wife.

But like I’d told Jameson, that would be admitting defeat. I needed to show my face. Smile for the cameras. Get through this one last obligation, and I could finally be free.

Jameson’s chest rose and fell slowly. He looked so cute, lying there in his faded blue Support Local Farms t-shirt and worn jeans. He was about as out of place in L.A. as anyone could be. And it made me love him all the more.

I shifted closer, and he reached out to wrap an arm around me—drew me against his chest. His body was relaxed and warm. I curled myself around him, nuzzling my face into his neck. The stubble on his jaw was pleasantly rough against my cheek and he smelled so good. I breathed him in as he traced gentle circles on my arm.

My lips found the sensitive skin at his throat. The vibration of his low groan tickled, lighting little sparks that raced down my spine.

His muscles flexed, and he pulled me on top of him. I took his hat off and tossed it on the floor. Those brilliant blue eyes took me in, devouring me with just a look. I loved seeing my desire for him reflected at me. It heightened my senses, awakening my body.

Letting my legs slide down each side of his hips, I pressed myself into his growing erection. He took my mouth in a deep kiss, groaning as I rubbed against him. Our bodies moved together, slowly—grinding and rubbing. Intensifying our need for each other.

I broke the kiss and crawled down his body. When I got to his waist, I pushed his shirt up, revealing the hard ridges of his abs. He groaned again as I ran my tongue along his skin.

His belt buckle clinked as I unfastened it. I opened the top button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. He dragged his teeth over his lower lip, watching me.

“Darlin’, I like where this is going.”

I licked my lips and smiled, then pulled his underwear down. His cock was thick and hard. I ran my tongue up his length, reveling in his sharp intake of breath. Grabbing him around the base, I licked him, paying special attention to the sensitive ridge around the tip. His eyes rolled back, and he groaned again.

There was nothing like hearing him moan because of me. I took his cock into my mouth and moved slowly, teasing him. Gradually, I moved faster, plunging down, taking in as much as I could. I worked the shaft with my hand, letting the tip slide in and out of my mouth.

He moved his hips and stroked my hair. I picked up the pace, squeezing the shaft while I drew his hard length in and out. His cock thickened, stiffening with his impending release. I tasted his flavor on my tongue.

The feeling of his growing climax was intensely arousing. Pressure built between my legs, warm and insistent. My heart raced, and my cheeks flushed as I kept drawing his cock in and out of my wet mouth. Harder. Faster.

“Baby, I’m almost there,” he said.

His rough voice sent a thrill down my spine. He was breathless, losing control. His muscles flexed beneath me, his hips thrusting himself deeper. I moaned, feeling his cock begin to pulse.

The first spurts of come hit the back of my throat and he groaned, a low sound that reverberated through me, setting me on fire. I took him all in, every last bit, reveling in the way it felt to give him this pleasure. I loved it. He was lost, his body stiff, jerking into me as the orgasm overtook him.

When he finished, I slid his cock out of my mouth and quickly swallowed. He was breathing hard, his eyes glassy.

“Good lord, baby,” he said between breaths. “That was unbelievable.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

I adjusted his underwear and crawled back up his body. He rolled me onto my back and kissed me deeply, his tongue sweeping through my mouth with lazy strokes. My body trembled with a rush of anticipation as he slid one hand up my thigh, beneath my skirt. He nudged my legs open and stroked my clit with gentle fingers.

“These panties are awfully wet,” he said between kisses. “I reckon I ought to do something about that.”

He slipped his fingers beneath my panties and teased my clit, making me shiver and moan. His touch was soft, leaving me desperate for more.

Without warning, he pushed his fingers deep inside me. My back arched, and I groaned. I bucked my hips against his hand, seeking more—more friction, more pressure. He pumped his fingers in and out a few times while he nibbled on my bottom lip.

“I want a taste of you,” he said, drawing his fingers out. He brought them to his mouth and sucked my wetness off, closing his eyes and groaning. “God, you taste good. I need more.”

With rough hands, he yanked my panties off and pushed my skirt up. Positioning himself between my open legs, he licked up each side of my slit.

“Jesus, Jameson,” I said, my voice halting. The feel of his tongue on my sensitive skin was electric.

“Relax, darlin’,” he said. “I’m just getting started.”

His tongue moved with slow strokes and the sensation was overwhelming. I closed my eyes and sighed his name. He lapped against my clit, sending jolts of pleasure rushing through my core. God, he was good at this. His wet tongue slid and swirled until I was panting, hardly able to catch my breath.

The tension between my legs built, a deep surge of heat and pressure. Jameson sucked on my clit, and I moaned, running my fingers through his thick hair. He licked and sucked and stroked until I was ready to burst.

He slid two fingers inside me, and I cried out in ecstasy, my body shuddering. He growled into my pussy as he worked my clit relentlessly with his mouth. His fingers curled, and I thought I might die. I gasped, clutching at the sheets, the intense sensation crashing over me. He had me at the peak of climax, on the brink of coming apart.

But he wasn’t finished with me. He held me in that place, where the pleasure is at its height and the intensity is overpowering. I writhed and whimpered, digging my heels into the mattress. My pussy was hot and throbbing around his fingers, my body desperate for release.

His tongue strokes became rhythmic—warm, wet pressure against my clit—and I came undone. Wave after wave rolled through me as I came, the sensation taking over. I grabbed the sheets and gasped for breath, losing myself in the hot rush of my orgasm.

Jameson gently kissed between my legs and the insides of my thighs while I lay panting on the bed.

“I don’t know what you just did to me.”

He kissed me again, just above my opening, the soft pressure of his lips soothing in the aftermath of such an intense orgasm.

“I just like makin’ you feel good,” he said, then kissed me again.

He moved higher up the bed and we finally stripped off our clothes. Although I was sated, I needed to feel his skin against mine. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I relaxed against him, reveling in the warmth of his body, the feel of his rough jaw against my cheek.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He drew back to look me in the eyes and touched my face. “I love you, too.”

Our mouths came together, soft and sweet. His lips caressed mine, our tongues sliding together. I felt like I could have spent a lifetime kissing Jameson and it would never be enough.

His cock hardened, and he pressed it against me. I felt good—my pussy warm and wet from his tongue—but I wanted more. I wanted him inside me—filling me. Stretching me open and connecting my body to his.

He seemed to have the same idea. He pushed me onto my back again and settled between my legs. My need grew as he kissed me deeply and pressed his cock against me without going inside. I rocked my hips against him, rubbing my clit along his hard length. He groaned into my mouth, then sucked on my lower lip.

“I need you inside me,” I said, the urgency for him growing.

I ran my hands down his back and pressed against his ass, hoping to nudge his cock inside me. He grinned and kissed me again, like he was enjoying this game.

“You want this?”

I took his lower lip between my teeth and tugged gently. “Yes.”

He groaned again but instead of thrusting inside, he moved off me. Grabbing my hips, he flipped me over and pulled my ass into the air. I propped myself up on my forearms and looked back at him over my shoulder.

He grabbed my ass and slid his thumbs up and down my slit a few times. “God, you’re fucking sexy. I love the way you look on your knees for me.”

Taking his cock in one hand, he rubbed the tip against my opening. Jerked his hand up and down his thick length a few times. I rocked my hips back, seeking more.

“I want you inside me,” I said. “Please.”

“Baby, I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t see straight.” He positioned himself at my entrance, grabbed my hips in a tight grip, and thrust inside.

I cried out as his thickness filled me and arched my back to take him in deeper. He held my hips and plunged in and out, drawing my ass into his groin with every stroke. I loved it when he unleashed on me like this. When he showed me this side of himself—primal and raw. Strong and commanding. To the outside world, Jameson Bodine seemed like a quiet and sensitive soul, but in the bedroom, he was fierce. And I loved every second of it.

He pounded into me with hard thrusts, his grip on my hips tight. Hot tension built again, deep in my core, as waves of pleasure rolled through me. I lost myself in the feel of him fucking me, forgetting everything. The studio, the gossip, the uncertainty of my life. It all melted away.

I looked back at him again, watching his abs flex. The tattoo across his left pec and shoulder glistened with a light sheen of sweat, and his brow furrowed. He grunted low in his throat with each thrust.

Our eyes met, and he stopped, his cock buried deep inside me. His chest rose and fell and his grip on my hips was tight. Slowly, he blinked and licked his lips.

He pulled out and turned me onto my back again. Crawled up between my legs and slid his cock inside. Touching my face with gentle hands, he kissed me slowly while his hips began their rhythmic motion.

“I love you,” he whispered into my mouth, kissing me again. Deep, wet kisses, like he wanted to devour me.

I held him and kissed him back, moving with his slow thrusts. “I love you, too.”

Like a dance timed perfectly to music, our bodies moved in sync. My nipples dragged across his skin as he thrust his cock in and out of my pussy. He kissed down my neck and licked the hollow at the base of my throat. Grazed my skin with his teeth. I held on tight, rolled my hips, and drew him in as deep as he could go.

He moved faster—harder—and I could tell he was close. His cock pulsed inside me, and I whimpered with the need to come again. Sensation pooled between my legs, like every nerve ending led there. Then he shifted, a subtle movement of his hips, and took me to a whole new level of ecstasy. My eyes rolled back, the pressure so intense I could scarcely breathe.

“Fuck, Leah Mae,” he said, low in my ear. “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Come in me. Oh god, Jameson, come in me now.”

His body stiffened, his cock pulsed, and the first waves of his orgasm sent me over the edge.

My climax swept through me, sparks and tingles and hot swells of lust. I closed my eyes, held Jameson tight, and let it overtake me. Reveled in the release—in the feel of him emptying himself into me. In the heat of his skin, his body joined with mine.

When the last tremors faded, we lay together, arms and legs tangled. We were hot, sweaty, and exhausted. And utterly satisfied.