“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“It’s in Charlottesville and it’s called Camel Hump Grille, but don’t let the name put you off.”

I laughed. “I’ve been to Charlottesville with Elaine, but I’ve never heard of a restaurant called Camel Hump Grille.”

“It’s small and it’s almost just a roadside shack, but they do one heck of a steak. Their dry aged cuts are almost a legend.”

Camel Hump Grille was more than an hour away. He parked and came around to let me out. As I turned to get down, Kit curled his hands around my waist and lifted me down to the blacktop. I took a deep breath. My stomach was full of fluttering butterflies. I put my palm against it.

He had gone very still. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just gawking at you.”

“I’m actually a bit nervous, Kit.”

“Don’t be. You look absolutely beautiful. If I can walk into that place with my charred face you can definitely go in looking like a million dollars.”

I smiled up at him. “Ma used to say I was pretty, but nobody’s called me beautiful before.”

“Then they’re all blind as bats,” he said firmly.

I laughed and hooked my hand through his. Kit made me happy. When I was with him I forgot I was considered disabled by the world around me. We walked into the restaurant together; his body warm against mine.

The restaurant was full of noise, people talking, laughing, cutlery, footsteps, children’s voices, music, and more. The smell of food mingled with that of perfume, deodorants and aftershaves. A woman greeted us cheerfully, took our coats, and showed us to our table.

It took a moment to realize the seating was banquette style. As I slid along the curving leather seat, I felt Kit’s muscular thigh slide flush against mine from the opposite side.

He ran his hand up the inside of my leg making my skin tingle. A waitress brought menus, but Kit said we had no need for them. We were there for Boone’s big ole steaks. He told the waitress he wanted his so rare he might as well go up to a cow and bite its butt. I heard the waitress’s pen scratching as she wrote down bloody and medium on her notepad. I ordered a glass of wine, and Kit got himself a cold beer. Then we talked. Unimportant things. He told me he was allergic to the smell of soy sauce and I told him I couldn’t eat spaghetti.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because it feels shockingly similar to slimy worms, and I can’t imagine that it could possibly taste good.”

He chuckled. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” I said.

Then he told me about the time he was so drunk he almost had sex in a public toilet with a man dressed as a woman. The way he described his reaction when he reached between ‘her’ legs and found things he did not think was funny, had me laughing uproariously.

Then I told him about the time a bird pooped on my head and I couldn’t figure what it was that fell on me. I thought he would laugh, but he leaned in and sighed almost wishfully, “Oh, Lara. How different the world is for you.”

“What are you afraid of?” I asked him.

“I’m afraid of … I’m afraid only of losing you,” he said softly.

“Why would you lose me? You can see,” I quipped.

He didn’t laugh. “No matter what happens, just know that you are the most important thing that ever happened to me,” he said.

I wanted to tell him then that I loved him, but the food arrived. In the flurry about forks and knives and instructions about where everything was, the moment was lost.

The steak was juicy and delicious, but it was so massive I couldn’t finish it. We had apple pie for dessert. It was okay, but Elaine’s grandma’s pie would have knocked spots off theirs. Neither of us wanted coffee so Kit paid the bill and we left.

It was snowing again. The flakes were coming down fast. They fell softly on my face.

“Shit,” Kit cursed. “You’ll be able to drive as well as me in this weather.”

I was still laughing when he bundled me into the truck. I rubbed my hands together to warm them. Kit had brought blankets and he wrapped my legs in them.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I guessed you’d be wearing a skirt,” he said gruffly, and I marveled at how thoughtful he was.

After a while the heating from the heater kicked in. I felt warm, cozy and deliciously drowsy after all the wine and food, and I fell asleep on his shoulder.

I woke up to a soft kiss on my lips. Then another. And another. The last one was deeper, lasted longer. I moaned with pleasure.

“This is the way everyone should be woken up,” I sighed.

He chuckled. “We’re home, baby.”

That made me smile. He was calling his home mine as well. “I’m home when I’m in your arms,” I whispered.

“Want me to carry you in?”

“And have you fall and drop me in the snow? No thanks,” I said with a giggle.

“Very funny,” he said, and hopped out of the truck. Before I knew it, strong arms were hooking themselves under my knees and neck and I was being hoisted out and held close to a warm, hard body.

“You’re going to chuck me in the snow, aren’t you?”

“Nah, I have a better plan,” he said, walking up the driveway.

He never locked his door so he just kicked it open, and kicked it shut again. He swept me through the hallway and up the stairs as if I was some heroine in a romantic movie. I never realized that there was something so primitive and wonderful about a large and powerful man who picks you up and carries you to his bed. He threw me on the bed.

“Hey,” I protested, but he already had grabbed my ankles and opened my legs. For a while he seemed to do nothing. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Just looking at my sweet pussy. I missed her all day.”

Then I heard him take off his clothes and the rustle of a condom wrapper. The mattress gave way as he lay down on the bed. He curled his large hands around my waist and picked me up, depositing me on his lap, facing him, my legs spread apart.

“Show me your pussy.”

I reached for the hem of my dress to pull it over my head, but he stopped me.

“No, not all the way. I’ve been dying to fuck you in that dress.” He scrunched it up until it was between my waist and my hips.

“Spread your thighs wider,” he instructed.

I leaned back on his raised thighs and opened my legs as wide as I could.

His hand reached out and touched my sex. “Fuck, you’re so wet. You have no idea how pink and delicious you look, do you?”

I shake my head.

Gently he rubbed my sex in slow circles; I moaned and rocked my hips. He inserted a long finger deep into me and my head dropped back with pleasure.

“Do you know what I’m doing?”

I shake my head again.

“I’m finger fucking you.”

“That sounds really dirty,” I gasped.

“That’s because it is really dirty. My finger is going in and out of your tight, wet pussy. Every time I go in, your pussy sucks me in eagerly, and every time I come out, she makes a popping sound, and begs me for more. What do you think she’s really begging for, Lara?” As he asked he slipped two fingers into me

“Your cock?” I groaned.

“Why my cock?”

“Because it feels good when you fill me up.”

He lifted my body with his hands as if I weighed no more than a feather. “You are so little, Lara,” he crooned as he positioned me over his cock. “I’m sometimes afraid of hurting you.”

“I told you before. I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to go crazy.”

I felt the head of his shaft push past my soaked folds and penetrate me, stretching me. My muscles immediately started to squeeze at the invading body.

“See how she is trying to suck my cock in,” he marveled.

More of his meat entered me as he pushed me further down his shaft. As my muscles stretched and adjusted to his size, I began to wriggle so that more and more of him slipped deeper into me. My open pussy was almost sitting on his crotch. It felt as if I was as stuffed as one of Elaine’s grandmother’s Thanksgiving turkeys.

“I still don’t fit yet, do I?” I whispered.

“You will. You’re small and tight, but you’ll get used to my size. You’ll take everything I’ve got. Soon.”

He was willing to wait, but I wasn’t. I wanted all of him. Now. I started moving on him. First short strokes then longer and longer ones. I was determined to take all of him that night, for us to fit perfectly. I began to slide down faster and faster. It hurt a bit, but there was more pleasure in knowing that soon he would fit perfectly inside me.

He started to match my thrusts with his own. Our mating became more frenzied, more uncontrollable. Strange sounds of pleasure were ripped from me. When a two-pronged slam brought me all the way down to his pubic bone, I screamed with pleasure. We were an exact fit. Like two pieces of a puzzle we fit exactly with not a millimeter to spare.

With a shudder I went over the edge.

When Kit climaxed he roared my name and I moaned for the fact that his seed did not spill into my body. I decided then he would never again wear a sheath with me. I wanted his seed. I wanted him to be mine for keeps. Forever. I wanted to bear his children.

With a sigh of contentment, I arched my head back as his tongue trailed fire down my throat, and prepared myself to feel the climax rise from deep inside me.