CHAPTER FIFTEEN

HALEY

Dane pushes a dozing Andy in his stroller through town. We’re looking for something to eat, but this isn’t Times Square. Options are slim in Merit.

The Burger Shack is open, a greasy take-away joint that’s a pretty clear rip-off of McDonalds, or at least what I imagine it to be, right down to the red and yellow signage.

Dane seems equally confused. “I’m guessing I’m not going to find Ronald McDonald inside, but what about food poisoning?”

“I’ve eaten here before. It’s fine.”

“Alright. What’ll it be, m’lady?”

“Just a cheeseburger, please,” I reply.

Satisfied, Dane ducks inside to order.

I hold the stroller watching him through the window. He still looks so out of place here. I don’t know if it’s his hairstyle, his general physique or simply the way he walks, but if he was a small-town boy once, he’s not anymore.

He’s moved on. Moving on, I think.

I wasn’t imagining it before. Dane was definitely hinting he was going to leave once the storm was over. Worse, it sounded like he’d be out of here as soon as the chance arose, couldn’t bear to remain here a second longer than absolutely necessary.

You’re reading into this too much.

I don’t think I am, but I have fallen for him—all of him. I don’t know if I can let him go. Every fiber of my being wants to be with him, and it’s far more than a schoolgirl crush. The way he’s started to bond with Andy, the small gestures he’s been making, his… I actually blush thinking about our little love-making sessions. As far as sex goes, I’m pretty sure we’ve just skimmed the tip of the iceberg as far as what he’s capable of.

Maybe it’s the fact he’s the first man to make me come that’s got me so hung up on him, or maybe it’s the fact he’s just the first person in a long time to actually treat me well, like I’m not old bubblegum stuck to their shoe.

I know falling for Dane Carr isn’t the best idea. I think I’m honest enough to admit that to myself, but for now I want to be with him. Like my mother used to say, ‘KISS’—Keep It Simple, Stupid. He wants me. I want him. What’s the problem with that?

You know full well.

Dane comes half out of the doorway waving us in.

I push the stroller into the restaurant and take a seat. It’s busy, the lunchtime rush, so to speak.

Dane’s got a tray of food on the table. He passes a cheeseburger over, looking quizzically at the packaging. “I guess McDonalds Corporate haven’t discovered this place yet.”

I start to unwrap the burger. “It’s hard enough finding Merit on a map.”

As I eat, I can feel peoples’ eyes on us, the heavy weight of their gazes. Dane senses it too, his eyes darting left and right. He ignores them.

I swallow the first bite down, doing my best to join him. “It’s not as good as the burgers you made.”

He smiles. “That’s because it’s not made with love.”

I choke a little on my next bite. “That is so unbelievably cheesy.”

“Says the girl with the cheeseburger.”

It’s light, fluffy conversation, but it’s distracting enough. What makes it easy is Dane. I’m empowered, emboldened when I’m with him—things I haven’t felt in a very long time…

So what are you going to do when he’s gone?

I lose it under the pressure of all those stares, swiveling my head to see who’s watching us.

“Ignore them,” Dane says, loud enough for anyone in the restaurant to hear. “They’re not worth it.”

I nod and continue to eat, my thoughts turning dark again, wondering what I’m going to do when Dane inevitably runs off. What will they think then?

We finish up and head home, the air turning cooler as we walk, Dane’s hand hot in my own.

Andy’s wide awake doing his best to free himself from the stroller. Dane fishes out one of Andy’s toys, a torn foam airplane, from the bottom of the stroller, passing it to him.

“I didn’t pack that,” I tell him.

“I thought it might come in handy,” Dane smiles, squeezing my hand for good measure.

At home, Dane busies himself with the fire while I put Andy down for his afternoon sleep upstairs. He’s past the point of tiredness, however, trying every trick in the book to stay awake.

I pat and soothe him, sing him Baby Mine from Dumbo just like my mother used to sing to me. My voice isn’t jazzy, nor husky like hers, but I do my best. Before long, Andy’s eyes are starting to shutter closed, allowing my mind to drift again.

It starts to become clear as I stare down at my son, my world.

Whether I want him to or not, Dane is going to leave. It’s what the men in my life do.

I resolve myself to get him out of my head, to move on.

I’m repeating this mantra to myself—move on, move on, move on—as I make my way downstairs. Dane’s standing in the lounge room watching the fire.

He turns and takes hold of my hips. “Everything okay?”

I put on a smile. “Fine. It took a while to get Andy down, that’s all.”

He licks his lips, watching me. “You know, I had a really good time today, the best time I’ve had in a long time, actually.”

“I’m glad,” I reply, “so did I.”

He brings his lips to the side of my neck, pressing his body close against mine. “You know what would make it even better?”

Breathing him in, feeling his heat, my resolve starts to slip. “What?” I whisper.

The moment he takes hold of me, cradling me to the floor, my thoughts muddle and I’m once again under his spell.

He kisses me, his full lips pressing against my own and the urgency increasing.

My thoughts can wait.

He undoes the buttons on my blouse one by one, popping them open and pressing my bra up to expose my breasts, milky and full.

His mouth comes down my collarbone, the tip of his tongue whisking lightly over my skin before he pulls a nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently to attention.

The initial hesitation is gone. My body is betraying me left, right, and most certainly center.

Before I know it, Dane’s shirt is gone, my pants, my underwear—every article of clothing shed to the floor.

He lifts himself free, his rigid cock standing tall, and takes a scarf that’s lying over the sofa arm.

“Lift your head,” he tells me.

He wraps the scarf around it, tying a knot at the back so I’m blindfolded, guided only by my sense of smell, touch, and taste.

“I’ve never been blindfolded before,” I tell him, and it’s true.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he purrs, his lips closer to my ear than I expect, the heat of his body radiating downwards. I’m wet, my thighs spreading in anticipation of what’s to come, what next miracle this man is about to perform.

I lay my head down and wait, concentrate on my breathing.

Dane slides a finger inside me, slowly stroking it in and out of my body, my arousal a betrayal of the highest order. He continues to finger me slowly, fascinated by the way the digit is swallowed up into the slippery constriction of my pussy. I feel the hot length of his cock thick against the side of my thigh. I’m still amazed it fits inside me.

His hand brushes hair out of my face before he lowers himself and presses his lips against my own. His tongue parts them, moves deep into my mouth. By instinct I go to submit to the kiss, but it’s fleeting. His head moves away as he licks up the side of my cheek, the heated ribbon left behind sticky and wet.

Heightened, my senses kick into gear.

I notice the familiar, exotic musk of him, but something else now, something new. He smells of the forest, of the damp and wet, all pine and testosterone mixed together. He’s already felt how wet I am, knows how easy this will be.

He pauses to whisper at my ear. “God, I’ve been dying for this. Do you know how much I’ve been dreaming about this moment all day, and you’re so wet, so hot for my cock.”

I never thought I’d be into dirty talk, but now I see its appeal, the way his words strum sensation through my body.

“Tell me you want my cock,” he says.

I swallow first. “I want your cock,” I whisper, hesitant.

“When?”

“Now.”

“Where?” he continues.

“Inside me,” I huff, suddenly breathless.

He positions his cock at my entrance with his free hand, his hips forcing my legs to splay wide. He thrusts ever so slightly, just the tip of his cock slipping inside the heated confines of my body.

He exhales. “You’re so fucking tight it’s incredible.”

There’s no denying the size of him, but I’m wetter than ever, offering little resistance as the angry head of his cock is swallowed completely by my hole.

I moan at his length. He responds by drawing back and thrusting firmly forward, easily sending half of his cock deep into my slickness.

I shouldn’t be this aroused. I shouldn’t be this wet, but he’s having an effect on me, a deep and primitive misunderstanding I’m powerless to stop.

I’m not thinking about him leaving me, leaving us. I’m not thinking about the foreclosure or my job at the motel, about Jeremy or Mrs. Ainsworth or anyone but this man-god before me.

“Ahhh,” he moans, drawing back and running in again, his buttocks tightening with the struggle. “Do you know how good that feels, how much you want it?”

I scream into his hand, trying to speak, but the words come out muffled and garbled.

He’s stroking in and out with rhythm now, more and more of his thick length disappearing inside me with every stroke, my lips flowering open, slick and yawning and hungry for more.

I turn my head sideways, open my eyes against the blackness.

I can’t take this anymore, my cheeks burning hot, my senses on fire.

He slides in and out of my pussy, the wet sound of the action filling my ears, the world around us eerie and still. “You’re going to come for me, Haley. You’re going to come all over my cock.”

He shifts his pelvis, the hard plane above his cock grinding against my clit with every stroke. I gasp into the air, the sensation suddenly overwhelming.

He grinds harder against my clit and I feel myself soaring fast towards orgasm.

“Do it,” he taunts. “Come for me.”

“No, no,” I mutter, not wanting my completion to come so soon, but my body has other ideas.

His balls press up against my ass, the entire length of his cock embedded inside the tight channel of my pussy.

“Come,” he demands, and I do.

My core clenches tight and I groan again, but this time with ecstasy as I cream around his cock, feel the way his balls lift and pump, the hot flood that follows.

I exhale, convulsing around his cock, gripping and releasing it, milking him dry.

He takes my jaw and forces his lips upon me, his still-hard cock slipping free.

When I’ve recovered, he removes the blindfold, looking down to admire me, the patchy blotches on my body that mark my arousal.

I don’t know why, but I’m desperate for more, to please him.

Slowly, I get onto my knees on the floor and take hold of his cock.

He watches me, making soft cooing noises as I guide the head of it between my lips.

“Uh,” he groans. “That’s so fucking good.”

I no longer want to be a small-town girl when it comes to sex. I want to prove to him I can be just as wild as anything city girls have to offer.

I lathe the underside of his dick with my tongue, press it up against his glans until he moans freely, his fingers caught in my hair. I flick my eyes up and see that wicked grin on his face, that constant hunger.

“That’s my girl,” he says, eyes closing and his head falling back with pleasure.

His fingers press into the side of my head. He thrusts deep into my mouth, desperate and wild.

He rocks my head back and forth on his length, my jaw spanning wide as he fucks my mouth.

It’s dirty, so very, very naughty, but it’s turning me on, too. The more I work him, the more I discover of myself, this hidden Haley kept locked away for so long.

He hammers against me harder and I take all of him, the head of his cock slipping into the tight vice of my throat.

Within seconds he tenses again. He pulls my head over him until his entire length is inside.

“I’m coming,” he pants, going to pull out, but I hold him in place and wait.

I feel him flex and wait for the deluge. He comes hard, shaft pulsing against the flat of my tongue. I swallow fast, struggling to keep up.

His entire body shakes and bucks, a long moan following that tells me this was the absolute last thing he was expecting.

He draws himself slowly from my mouth.

I lick my lips and laugh. “Wow.”

He slumps onto the couch, his cock finally starting to wilt. “You can say that again. I didn’t expect… I mean…”

“There’s more to me than you think,” I offer. “I’m nice, but I can be naughty when the situation calls for it.

“Clearly,” he laughs, head hung over the back of the couch, continuing to pant and breathe heavy. “But how are you going to follow that up? If I come any harder my cock’s going to blast right off my body.”

I stand up before him, hands on my hips, the space between my legs continuing to tingle. I nod down at his crotch. “I think you mean my cock.”