I wake to a beautiful naked woman lying close, her ass only a few inches from my cock. Instant morning wood.
I scoot closer and thrust my dick between the split in her cheeks as I snake my arm around to squeeze her breast. She straightens her shoulders, arches her back, and rubs her ass against me. I think we agreed last night she’d need to be freshly fucked before breakfast.
I turn and grab a condom from the nightstand. I sheath myself in latex and then open the top drawer and take out the goody I promised. A bullet.
I adjust so I’m in prime position to take her from behind. But I want to make this good for her. Really good.
I grasp the inside of her thigh and bend it at the knee. That’s right. Put it on top of mine. Legs spread wide. “Roll toward me just a little.”
She’s tilted so my cock can still access her from the back and my hand can reach her front. “Is it okay if I use this?”
She looks at the bullet and smiles. She knows what this is. I bet she has one and uses it often.
“You certainly may.”
Good. I’m going to use a little pulsation to get her warmed up. And wet.
I start by kissing the back of her neck while circling the small vibrator around one of her nipples. I pay attention to her body language. Not a lot seems to be going on so I interpret that as less than stellar. Maybe it’s too powerful for an area so sensitive. Either way, time to move on. I only want to do what makes Wren feel great.
I cup my hand around the body of the bullet and move it lower. I don’t want to go straight for her hot spot so I take a detour to roam from one side of her groin to the other. And everything in between.
She initially jolts but then squirms and rolls her hips when I drag the pulsating orb across the top of her pelvis. Ahh, there’s a spot she likes.
I tease her mercilessly, exploring every inch of her groin and pelvis while careful to avoid the one place she must be craving it most. I’m going to make her want it so bad she’s dripping wet. And I could be getting close according to her body language.
I drop my hand between her legs and cup her mound, my fingers dipping into her slickness. So wet. Yeah, she’s ready for me.
She wiggles when I position my tip at her entrance. I push a little and retreat, repeating the motion several times until I’m fully inside her. This is where I want to be. Balls deep inside of Wren.
I move the bullet to the top of her slit, over her clit, and she cups her hand over mine. “I got this. You just concentrate on fucking me.”
I relinquish control of the vibrator so Wren can be in charge of her own orgasm. I admire a woman who doesn’t lie in place and take whatever is given to her. She isn’t afraid to take authority over her own climax.
“Fuck me hard, Broussard.” No man has ever hated hearing that.
I grasp her hips and grip tightly as I thrust into her from behind. The buzz from the bullet grows louder. She’s putting the little devil on high speed.
I grasp her leg and pull it back so she’s spread wide. I prop on one elbow and look over her shoulder so I can watch the show happening up front without me. Watching her get herself off is a fucking beautiful sight.
She arches her back and adjusts her hips. “You’re right there where I need you.”
I guess I’m hitting her hot headquarters in this position. Mental note made.
“Oh, Brou. I’m about to come.” There’s her name for me.
Her body tenses and she closes her legs. Normally I’d think that was a bad thing, maybe robbing me of the access I love. But fuck, her body is squeezing my cock even tighter in that position. Hell, yes.
The hold her body has on my cock increases and relaxes in a rhythmic pattern. Tighten. Release. Tighten. Release. If I weren’t wearing this condom, I bet her body would be sucking every drop of semen out of me.
I wish I were bare so I could come inside her. Weird. I haven’t had a thought like that in… ever.
Wren presses her face into a pillow. “Ohh… Brou.” There it is again.
I thrust hard one last time. My body involuntarily jerks as my hot stream is caught and contained by the latex.
I press my forehead on Wren’s back and slow my breathing. “That was so fucking good. We have to do it like that again.” I take the bullet from her hand. “And use this little guy.” He’s beneficial for her and me.
“You want to do that again now?”
I don’t think I could. I’m sucked bone dry. “No. Tonight.”
She twists and kisses me over her shoulder. “Okay. That’s doable.”
I consider myself a carnal connoisseur. I’ve fucked a lot of women in my life, and I’ve made most of them come, but never during penetration. It’s always required me rubbing her off or performing oral to achieve it. This is a first for me. No woman’s body has ever done this to me. I have been missing out. Maybe they have been too. It’s fucking amazing.
I. Want. More.
* * *
Stout meets us at the door and Wren whirls into his arms. “I’ve missed you, jerk face.”
He spins her around and kisses her cheek. “It’s only been a month.”
“Yeah, but I only saw you for a few hours then. Before that, it had been months.”
“Well, I’m here now, you damn hippie.”
Wren plants a big kiss on Stout’s cheek before he releases her. “I’m going to see if Mom needs help with breakfast.”
She flutters away, not giving me a second glance. Feels odd for the woman I just fucked three times in the last twelve hours to not be clingy. Of course, Wren can’t be because of the circumstances, but I don’t think she would even if the situation was different.
Stout punches me in the arm. “Hey, man. I hope it’s cool I sent my sister to get you.”
“No problem.”
“I know you must think she’s into some really weird stuff—and don’t get me wrong, she is—but my sister’s pretty awesome.” Wren is very awesome.
“Yeah. We spent some time together at the festival. Different is good.”
“Lucas Broussard, get yourself in here and see me.” I smile.
Stout shoves my shoulder. “Better get in there and see Mama Thorn ASAP. She sounds serious.”
Libby Thorn, amazingly warm and welcoming mother to Wren and Stout. Since the first day I met her, she’s been a second mother to me too. Knowing a little more about their past, I am incredibly impressed with the woman. And grateful she stepped into the role as their mother.
Mrs. Thorn wipes her floured hands on her apron before coming to me for a hug. “It’s wonderful to see you again. It’s been too long.”
“It’s good to be here. Thank you for the breakfast invitation.”
She releases me and turns to Stout. “How did you finally talk the Cajun into coming out for a visit?”
Stout shrugs. “All his idea.”
“Well, we are very happy to have you.”
“You have a beautiful home.”
“Thank you. Been here thirty years.” What a great place for Wren to grow up, at least after the age of ten. Which reminds me—I wonder what happened with her birth mother about the kidney transplant. I need to ask about that later.
“Breakfast is going on the table,” Mrs. Thorn calls out.
“Then I’m here just in time.” Quentin Thorn meets me halfway for a handshake. “Good to see you, Lucas.”
“And you, sir. Thank you for having me.”
Mrs. Thorn moves bowls of food from the counter to the table. “You should be staying here instead of that hotel.”
“I didn’t want to put you out.”
“You wouldn’t be putting anyone out. In fact, you should check out and stay here the next two nights.” Oh, no. That’s not happening. Too many good things are going on in that hotel room.
Wren’s eyes catch mine. Her lips wrap around her teeth as she works to suppress the evidence of what she’s thinking. She wasn’t kidding about being a bad actress. Or am I simply aware? “Maybe next time since I'm all settled into my room.”
Mrs. Thorn points at me. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
The breakfast on the table looks like it could feed a dozen people. “Hope you're hungry. I cooked plenty.”
“I see that.”
Bowls begin circling to the right. “Well, I have one who won't eat meat and everything must be organic. Another who won’t touch sweets for breakfast. And then a third on a strict no-salt diet. It's hard to come up with one menu to fit all those needs.”
“I have no special dietary needs or preferences so don’t be surprised to see me have a little of everything.”
Mrs. Thorn holds out a plate of pastries covered in powdered sugar. “Beignets for our Louisiana boy.”
“These look so good. Thank you. I haven’t had one since my last trip to Louisiana.” I grew up with Cajun and French food all around me. I didn’t really know how good it was, or how much I would miss it, until I moved to Birmingham.
“Cafe au lait?”
“Yes, please.”
I bite into the beignet, and it’s almost like being home. “Not everyone can make a good beignet but these are delicious.”
Wren points to the corner of her lower lip. “You’ve got a little powdered sugar there.”
I flick my tongue out and taste the sweetness. “Good?”
She grins and looks down at her plate. “Yeah.”
“So, flower child. Mom says you have a new boyfriend.”
What.
The.
Fuck.
Wren’s head jerks in Stout’s direction. Her eyes widen as her jaw sets. “I do not.”
“So Mom’s lying?”
Wren rolls her eyes. “No. We’ve been out a couple of times but he’s not my boyfriend.”
“But you like him?” Stout asks.
“He’s a nice guy.” Way to avoid answering the question.
“Are you going out with him again?” Thank you for asking that, Stout. Inquiring minds want to know.
She shrugs and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
Again.
What.
The.
Fuck.
“Has this guy asked you for a third date?”
“Yeah. I was supposed to see him after work last night. Something came up so I canceled.” She didn’t mention a word about having plans with any other guy.
“You don’t have to be so pissy about it. I was only asking because I care and don’t want you going out with losers who’ll hurt you.”
“I’ve met him, Oliver. I can vouch he’s a very nice man,” Mrs. Thorn says. Shit. She’s introduced this dick to her parents?
“What does this guy do for a living? Is he into the same kind of stuff as you?”
Wren looks at me and then at Stout. “He owns the restaurant on the corner from my shop. It specializes in organic and vegan dishes.”
Was that where she’d gone for dinner last night?
And if she had plans, when and how did she cancel them?
Did they intend to meet up for sex after they finished work? Fuck.
He knows all about organic and vegan stuff. Great. I’m sure they have all kinds of shit in common. Probably more than us.
“They grow all their own herbs and use only fresh, local ingredients. Isn’t that a nice way to support the local farmers?” Mrs. Thorn asks.
Stout chuckles. “Sounds like the perfect granola guy for you.”
Wren shrugs again and uses her fork to push around the food on her plate. It’s her only reply.
Until last night, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Wren in a month. She was completely free to do as she wished. I had no kind of claim on her. But things feel different after last night. I don’t want her with this guy.
It bothers the fuck out of me she’s been seeing someone else. I don’t like it worth a damn. I can’t remember a time that’s ever happened.
Wren is presenting me with a series of firsts. Some I like. Some, not so much. I don’t care for the way this feels at all.
“Where do you plan on taking Lucas?” Mr. Thorn asks.
“Actually, I was going to talk to Lawrence about giving him a tour since she’s the one who knows the area’s history. I thought when you finish we might meet for drinks over at The Distillery. They have a ton of craft beer. I’d like to do a tasting since I’m trying to come up with ideas for next winter’s seasonal. It’s never too early to start brainstorming.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” It could help us narrow down the choices.
“What time do you want to meet?” Finally. She speaks.
“Eight o’clock sound okay?”
“Yeah. We should have time to hit the high points.”
“Are you doing your Sunday girls’ trip to Tybee Island?”
Wren looks at me. “We were planning on it.”
“Care if Tap and I crash?”
Wren grins as she looks at her plate. “I’m sure that’ll be fine.”
“Lawrence has hot-ass friends.” Maybe so but they’re nothing compared to her.
“Oliver.” Mrs. Thorn uses her warning voice. It’s one I recognize well; I’ve heard it from my mother many times.
“Sorry. I meant to say Ivy and Kelsey are lovely young women and I’m certain you’ll enjoy their company.”
Mr. Thorn is the first to push away from the table. “Wonderful as always, Lib.”
Wren slides away next. “I’ll help you clear the table and load the dishwasher.”
“No, honey. You should get an early start with Lucas. I have all day to clear this. You two get going.”
“Okay.” Wren hugs her mother and then turns to me. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” Libby Thorn moves in for another hug. “Breakfast was delicious, especially the beignets.”
“So glad you enjoyed it.”
Neither of us say anything as we walk to Wren’s car. Her door barely shuts when she turns to face me, her eyes piercing mine. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“But he’s something to you.” And I hate that.
“We’ve gone out a couple of times since Birmingham.” She averts her eyes after that comment. I should have contacted her. Shit.
“You didn’t hear from me. I get it. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have gone out with him. But I don’t have to be happy about it. And I’m not.” There. I said it.
“I canceled with him last night so I could be with you.” So had I not been here she would have been with him.
She canceled but that only makes me feel like I won her for the night. He can have her back after I’m gone.
“Have you fucked him?” I’ll be sick if she says yes. At that she tears her eyes away from the windshield to look at me. By the sharp intake of breath and raise of her eyebrows, I can tell she isn’t happy I asked that, but I have to know. She doesn’t seem angry though. She tilts her head to the side as if to find a way to read my intention or something. Is she wondering the same about me for the month we’ve been apart?
“No.” Good. I want to keep it that way.
“It may be selfish and none of my business but that makes me happy.” I glide my fingers over and curl them so they’re wrapped around her hand. “And I really want to kiss the fuck out of you right now.” Might as well tell her how I feel about it if I’m to keep her out of his bed.
“I haven’t fucked him and I don’t plan to. So can we drop this?” This girl does not back down from challenges.
Her pledge satisfies me. For now. Her strength turns me on.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Any idea what you’d like to see in Savannah today?” Sure do.
“You in my bed naked.”
Wren shakes her head while giggling. “You’ve already seen that once today.”
“I could go for some more of it.” Like all day long. I’m growing hard thinking about it.
“You’ll get more of me tonight—the after-drinks me. That should be fun.”
“I like the before- and after-drinks you.” And the in-between.
Wren pulls onto the road. “I think we’ll skip The Cathedral of St. John the Baptist. You’ve probably seen St. Louis Cathedral a bazillion times so it probably wouldn’t feel much different.”
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen it. Although it’s been a while.” I need to make a trip home to see my grandparents soon. I’ve already lost one grandparent. Babette and Pops aren’t getting any younger.
“Would you be terribly upset if I cheated and took you on the historic on/off bus tour. I think it would be more fun than getting in and out of my car all day. And I’d like to enjoy sitting and talking with you rather than driving around the city squares.”
“Excellent idea.”
“We can hop off the bus if something interests you and get back on when we finish.”
I rub my thumb over the top of her hand. “I have the only attraction I need sitting next to me right now.”
“I believe you may be using your southern charm to woo me.”
“Is it working?”
“Definitely.”
Wren parks at the welcome center and we board a trolley bound for historic Savannah. “I’m surprised by how much it reminds me of New Orleans. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“New Orleans isn’t a whole lot older than Savannah. Maybe fifteen years or so but we don’t have the melting pot of cultures like you.”
“Which are still very much alive. Your belief in the effects of oils, herbs, and stones would be accepted there.”
“Being an oddity doesn’t bother me. I don’t need to be accepted by closed-minded people to be happy.”
No shit. “I gathered that.”
I reach for her hand and intertwine our fingers. “Where do things stand with your biological mother and the transplant?”
“I told her I wasn’t doing it. She called every day for a week begging me to go through with it. Things got heated so I had to stop answering the phone.”
“That’s harassment.”
“She doesn’t care if it kills my chances at having a baby one day. She told me I could adopt a kid if I wanted one.” Based on the things she’s told me about her mother, I’m not surprised. I don’t like this woman at all.
She’s harassing and selfish. Doesn’t sound like much has changed since Wren was a child. “You need to take out a formal restraining order.”
“I’m considering it.”
Wren moves our clasped hands to her lap and places her other on top. “I’m not sure she’s actually dying. I don’t think someone who is as sick as she claims to be would have the strength to bother me as much as she does.”
“You think she’s okay?”
“I suspect she may want the transplant so she doesn’t have to keep going to dialysis. I think it’s a hassle for her, and she’s tired of messing with it.”
“You think she’d ask you to sacrifice that much so she’d no longer be inconvenienced?” That’s shitty.
“The more I’ve thought about it, I think she’d do that. I mean, I believe she’s in renal failure and a candidate for transplant but not knocking on death’s door like she says. I think that was all a guilt trip to make me agree to do it. She knows I live by the laws of attraction so she’s trying to use my beliefs to benefit herself.”
“Sounds like you’re listening to what your gut is saying.”
“Having her in my life again has triggered a lot of bad memories from my childhood. I just want her out.” I’m happy to see she’s changed her tune about considering the transplant.
The trolley comes to a halt. “This is your stop for Forsyth Park,” the driver announces over the speaker.
“Let’s get off here so you can see the fountain. It’s an iconic symbol of Savannah so it’d be a shame for you to miss it.”
Wren laces her fingers through mine after we exit the trolley. “I don’t really know a lot about you. Who is Lucas Broussard outside of the brewery?”
“I love the outdoors. I hunt, fish, go boating. Things you probably consider manly.” I’m not sure how Wren will feel about me hunting, considering she’s vegan.
“What kind of hunting?”
“Mostly deer.”
She crinkles her nose. “You eat those sweet creatures?”
“Yeah. Deer is delicious.”
She puts her hand over her heart. “You shoot them?”
“Sometimes. I use a rifle or bow depending on the season.”
“Ahh, poor Bambi.” She closes her eyes and shivers. “Let’s not talk about that anymore.”
“What do you like to do when you’re not at the shop?”
“I’m crafty so I enjoy making a lot of the items I sell: jewelry, dream catchers, refinish old furniture so it has purpose instead of a place at the dump.”
I notice the necklace, bracelet, and earrings she’s wearing. “Did you make these?”
She touches the stone hanging around her neck. “I did.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Peridot. I chose it for today because it restores new energy to the body. I needed it pretty badly after last night.” So, she knew as she packed last night she’d get little sleep. Like. That.
“I could a use a little energy restoration myself.” It was a long night. And early morning. But oh so good.
And I plan to do it again.