Love Fast

The rain has stopped, but it’s only a temporary reprieve. The next time it starts raining, we know it will be the beginning of the big storm we’ve been preparing for.

I’ve been in near-constant contact with Kathleen. I need to do something to distract me from the fact that Rosey is naked at this very moment, taking a shower. I don’t want to think about how she looks in nothing but water and bubbles. Or how she’d taste, straight out of a shower.

Kathleen texts that most construction work had to be abandoned due to the heavy rain. We’re going to have more damage than I would have liked. We’re going to have to prioritize the staff accommodations and the already furnished chalets. If necessary, we’ll have to delay marketing visits. It just depends on the extent of the damage when all this is over.

I’m going to have to brace myself for the worst-case scenario. I’m impatient to know where we’re going to end up. It’s only when I know what we have to fix that I’ll know how to get us there.

I groan and collapse on the couch, Athena yelping as I catch her tail on the way down. “Sorry, cat,” I say.

“What happens when you move up to the Colorado Club?” Rosey says from the door of the bedroom. “Will you be able to take Athena?”

I glance over at her and wish I hadn’t. Her cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower. The tank top she’s wearing fits snugly over her breasts, and rides a little high so I can see a couple of inches of the golden skin on her stomach.

“Let’s not borrow trouble.” I look away, shaking my head, like I’m trying to empty all the dirty thoughts I’m having about Rosey. The weight of her breasts in my hands, the heat of her skin, how wet she’d be if I slid my fingers into her right now. I need to take some of my own advice. I don’t know why I can’t just let things take their course. There’s nothing I can do to change the direction of a storm. I push my hands through my hair.

“You’re stressed,” she says.

“A little,” I admit. Her being here is making it worse, but I don’t say that. Having to control myself around her is more difficult than I expected. She’s filled up this space with her infectious smile, her chatter, her goddamn cat.

“Will it affect the opening?” she asks.

“Don’t know yet.” I hope fucking not. There’s way too much money at stake. “You should get some sleep,” I say. “In case the storm keeps you awake tonight.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow,” she says. “Don’t worry about me.”

“You can take my bed,” I say. “I can stay out here on the couch.”

She sighs. “There’s no way I’m taking your bed when you’ve already given me a place to stay and rescued me from a collapsing roof. Athena and I will be good on the couch.”

“I need the kitchen. You take the bedroom.”

“You need the kitchen? Why?”

“I like to cook when it’s like this.”

“When it’s raining?”

“No, when… when it feels like life’s in limbo. Like the coin has been tossed and it’s up in the air and I’m just waiting for it to land.”

“You cook in these situations?”

“I do. Comfort food. Beef ragu is my first port of call.”

“Nice!” she says enthusiastically. “Are you good? Am I going to love it?”

Did I say I was cooking for her? Typically, I have the urge to hide away when life gets difficult. I have a tight friend group back in New York. I know they’d do anything for me—listen to my problems, help me find solutions, lend me money, introduce me to all the right people. The problem is, when things get difficult, I always retreat. I pull back from reality, figure it out and then come out guns blazing.

Rosey being here is forcing me to stay engaged with the world.

“Yeah,” I say, shooting her a look. “You’re going to love it.”

“You want a hand?” she asks, pressing a kiss to Athena’s head.

“I don’t. Turn on the TV. Let’s listen to the weather report while I get started.”

The kitchen area’s small, which is something I’m grateful for when the world seems too big. All the prep surfaces are against the wall, so I’m facing away from Rosey while I dice onions and press garlic. I listen as she talks to the cat and makes the odd comment on the local weather map.

“Oh, that sounds promising, doesn’t it?” she asks.

“What does?” I ask. I haven’t been listening to anything but the chop of the knife and Rosey’s chatter. It’s oddly meditative.

“They think wind speeds are coming down.”

“They can just as easily climb back up.”

“Let me check outside.”

“Rosey—”

“I’m just going to stand on the porch to see if the rain has started up again.”

She closes the door behind her, but not before a cold swirl of air whooshes inside to curl around my ankles.

She comes back inside. “It’s very black, but it’s not raining.”

“It’s not due to restart until around five tomorrow morning.”

“Star Falls has been good to me so far,” she says. “I have faith this place will come through the storm okay.”

I hope she’s right.

When all my ingredients are in the pan and the hours-long simmering process has begun, I turn to find Rosey staring at me. Has she been watching me the entire time I’ve been cooking? Our eyes lock, and a bolt of energy passes between us, like she knows I’ve been thinking about how she’d taste if I kissed her… everywhere. Like I know she’s thinking about how hard my chest would feel if she pressed her palm against it.

Her mouth parts. She runs her tongue across her bottom lip.

I’m mesmerized.

I’m good at compartmentalizing—like how I keep New York and the Colorado Club separate. How I don’t think about how I’m missing Monday nights with the guys while I’m in Star Falls. I don’t let myself think about how I walked away from everything I knew when I got to New York. I should be able to put Rosey in the box marked “employee” and move on.

But if I’d done that, I’d be up in the Colorado Club now, not down here in the cabins. I wouldn’t have been there when her ceiling started to leak. I wouldn’t be here now, wondering how I’m going to resist her for a full night.

“You want a drink?” I ask.

She nods, not taking her gaze from mine.

I don’t move to make her one. “Anything else you want?” I ask.

She nods again.

I know what she’s thinking. I know exactly what she’s thinking. I want it too. I want to be in front of the fire, naked and under her, over her, inside her. I want to be kissing and sucking and licking and biting. I want to be exploring and wondering and making her moan.

I want her.

I push a hand through my hair. “I’ll get you a drink.” I grab a glass from the cupboard and turn on the faucet. I need some iced water over my head right about now.

When I turn back to the living room, Rosey’s right there in front of me. I hand her the drink. Her fingers circle the glass, but I don’t release it. I can’t move. Don’t want to.

I scan her face, looking for signs that she doesn’t want this. All I see is her desire. Want. Need.

I pull the glass from her hand and put it on the counter behind me.

She’s stayed stock-still.

“Rosey,” I say. It’s a question. Do you want this as much as I want this? Can I kiss you? Can I have you?

“Yes,” she releases on a sigh. Then she nods, in case there was any doubt.

I close the distance between us and dig my hand into her hair, holding her in place. My eyes flit from hers to her mouth.

“Tell me no,” I say. It would be easier if she did. It would be far simpler if I didn’t have any entanglements here in Star Falls. The only label I want here is owner of the Colorado Club. I want any labels I’ve had in my past—son of Mack Miller, the kid whose father gambled away the farm, the boy whose father died—I want them all to dissolve until it’s just me and the Club, one entity, zero tragic backstory. I certainly don’t want to be the guy who fucks his employees.

But I can’t walk away from this moment unless Rosey tells me to.

She shakes her head. “I’m telling you yes.”

I close my eyes in a long blink, accepting my fate.

Her fingers sweep over my jaw when I press my lips against hers. She moans, and I take advantage of the moment, sliding my tongue though her lips. I want to know her. I want to explore every inch of her.

I pull her closer. I don’t want any space between us. No gaps. No secrets. Nothing unsaid.

“I want to feel you,” she whispers, pulling my shirt from my waistband and sliding her hands up my chest, just like I knew she was desperate to. Her touch makes me shudder, makes me hungry for more. I pull my sweater over my head and her fingers fumble for my hem of my shirt. I take her face in my hands, deepening our kiss with every breath. I wonder if I’m being too rough. I haven’t shaved for a couple of days.

I pull back.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

“Your face is red,” I say, reaching out with my thumb. “My beard is⁠—”

“I like it. It feels good.” Her voice is a breathy whisper.

Blood races to my cock so fast I’m light-headed.

“I want to kiss you everywhere,” I choke out.

She takes a half step back and pulls her shirt over her head. “I want that too.”noveldrama

Her bra is plain white. I can’t pull my gaze away from the way her breasts push up over the edge, begging to be set free.

My breathing is frantic and I don’t know where to start. My mind is whirring. I want everything to slow down so I can think for a minute. I take a breath, turn back to the stove and shut off the heat.

When I turn back, her eyes are filled with confusion.

She needs to know I want her. I definitely want her. I can’t remember wanting anything more.

She starts to say something, but I don’t give her a chance before scooping her up and striding into the bedroom.

Something switches in me, and I’m filled with the clarity of knowing exactly what I should be doing right now. I lay her back on the mattress and inch down her sweats. Pressing a semicircle of kisses from one hip bone to the other, I revel in her softness, her sweet scent, her fingers in my hair. She writhes underneath me and I have to hold her at the waist to keep her still.

So soft. So sweet. So needy.

I pull her waistband down a little lower and my lips follow. I’m teasing, but I want to draw this out. I want her to be crazy for me by the time I taste her.

I take off the rest of my clothes and crawl over her. My erection is hard against my stomach. I settle between her thighs, my hardness pressing against her leg. It’s all for her, but she can’t have it. Not yet.

I dip, pulling her nipple into my mouth, flicking and licking before slowly tightening my teeth and biting.

She arches her back on a scream and digs her fingernails into my shoulder. I swirl my tongue, giving comfort, while I take the other nipple between my fingers and squeeze.

Her knees come up either side of me as she groans.

“Feels good, huh?”

Her eyes open. Her face is flushed and her chest heaves between us. Her eyes flit over my face like she doesn’t know what to say.

“Tell me,” I say. “I want to hear you say it.”

She nods. “It feels good.”

“You want more?” I ask. “Tell me.” She’s used to being controlled—to being powerless. She has all the power now, over me, if only she’d use it. “I want to hear what you want.”

She grabs my hand and slides my fingers between us, down, down, down, until I’m touching her pussy.

“I’m so wet,” she says. “I don’t know how⁠—”

My groan interrupts her. I can’t help it. Her juices coat my fingers and I’m dizzy with the need to feel more. To slide into her and have my cock coated in her. To fuck her until we both forget our names.

But first, I want more. More of everything.

I bite down on her other breast and soothe the opposite nipple between my thumb and finger, rolling and pressing.

I kiss the soft fresh of her breasts over and over, then suck the side of one, knowing I’ll leave a mark. It will take a week for the bruise to fade, and every time she gets in the shower until then, she’ll think of everything we did tonight.

“Byron,” she whispers.

I press up on my palms to admire my work. Her fingers skate over the spot I just marked.

“I haven’t had a hickey since…”

“Don’t tell me,” I say. “I don’t want to hear about anyone else. Only us. Only now.”

She presses her palms on my cheeks. “There’s only us. Only now.”

Her words make me feel raw. Like she’s stolen my invisible shield. She’s unhooked my armor, unmasked me. She’s seeing through to my soul. The real me, not the guarded, careful strategist. Everything that’s left is hers.

We stare at each other like we’re newly glued together, waiting to set. We can’t move or we’ll destroy everything.

“I want you so badly,” I confess.

She widens her legs in response, inviting me to take what I want. My heart thumps in my chest, trying to wake me from a lust-induced coma.

I’m desperate to slide into her, but at the same time, I don’t want to move. I don’t want to undo anything. It’s like a spell has been cast over us and I don’t want it to break.

Her gaze falls on my mouth and she trails her finger over my lips, sweeping her tongue over her bottom lip. How can just the tip of her finger feel so good?

“Tell me what you want,” I say.

“Kiss me,” she whispers, her eyes fluttering shut.

I crash my lips to hers and shift my erection between her legs. All I feel is hard and soft, need and desperation. All I want is her.

Twisting my hips, I rock over her slick folds, coating my cock in her wetness, my heart thudding—a warning that it doesn’t know if it can survive this. Survive Rosey.

Pulling away, I grab a condom and fumble with it, my fingers working too slow for the rest of my impatient body.

Rosey whimpers as I roll the condom down my shaft. “Now, Byron. Please.”

“That’s right, Rosey. I want to hear you. I want to know you, know what you want. I want to give you what you need.”

I pull in a breath, trying to steady myself, trying to regain some kind of control of the situation, but it’s futile. Something has taken over my body and I have no conscious choice left. I’m being driven by desire, and it’s pointless trying to wrestle the wheel away.

I position myself on top of her, my gaze flitting between where the tip of my cock rears toward her entrance and Rosey’s desperate expression. It’s not just her words that are begging me to fuck her. Her ripe, hard nipples, her hips undulating underneath me, the eyes that tell me she’d do anything to have me right now.

I’ve never recorded sex with a woman, but for a second, I wish there were cameras all around us. I can’t remember sex ever feeling this intense, this necessary, this important. I want it to go on forever, and then I want to replay it every day for the rest of my life.

I slide in slowly. Rosey’s eyes widen—half pleasure, half disbelief—and I swear to god, if the tight clench of her wasn’t about to kill me, her expression would finish the job. It’s too much. I can’t take it. I still, squeeze my eyes shut, try to focus on something outside this bedroom.

The rain has started again. The wind howls around the walls of the cabin, like it’s trying to get in. This is it. The storm. The big one. We should be listening for tornado warnings so we can get to the shelter, but at the moment, I know that’s impossible for both of us. There’s no going back now.

I breathe and slide deeper, never taking my eyes from her face. Her mouth falls open and she lets out a silent cry. I hear it in every cell of my body. This isn’t sex. This is some kind of transcendent, spiritual experience. My entire body is vibrating. I don’t know where I end and she begins.

“Okay?” I whisper.

“Byron.” It’s more than my name she’s saying. She’s asking me a question—is this as good for you as it is for me? She’s wondering whether she’s going to survive this. She’s asking for more.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

I drive into her, slowly at first. Sweat already sheets my skin. My heart rate is already at max. I’m already too close to coming. I just want to circle the mountain, make this last, but I’m not sure I have any choice.

Her fingertips dig into the skin on my shoulders and I gasp, pushing up into her. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper. She’s tight. So tight.

She bucks underneath me. I pin her down, her elbows at her waist, so I can fuck her. Hard. Fast. Deep.

She feels so delicate beneath me. I slam into her, desperate to show her how I own her now. I need her to know that I’m going to fuck her like no one else ever will. She’s going to remember this forever. She whimpers underneath me and her sounds power something new inside my chest. I feel like a fucking god with her under me, vulnerable and exposed. I feel like I rule the world right now.

I drive deeper into her, and she tenses before seeming to accept her fate. Like she’s let me in. Completely.

She comes hard, her back arching, her pussy milking my cock. It’s too much.

I can’t hold back any longer. I push in one last time, as deep as I can go, and empty myself into her.

All I can think is how I wish I wasn’t wearing a condom. How I need to be closer. How I wish I could fuck my seed into her.

Shit. Where did that thought come from?

I’m usually ready to nominate the person who invented condoms for sainthood. But not tonight. Not with Rosey.

I collapse on top of her and she trails her fingers over my back.

“You’re incredible,” I mumble.

“You make me feel incredible,” she says.

I move off her, get rid of the condom and rearrange us so we’re covered in blankets. Rosey snuggles into the crook of my arm.

“The rain has started,” she says. “I only just noticed.”

“We were focusing on other stuff.”

She tenses. “Did we miss the tornado warning?”

I reach across her for my phone. “No notifications.”

“Can you put that thing on loud?” she says. “You’re sure we’ll have enough time to get to the shelter?”

“I’m sure.” My thoughts start to wander to the Colorado Club.

“You think you should check in at the Club?”

I pull in a breath. “I might just do a quick call. Do you mind?”

“Of course I don’t mind.”

Thunder rumbles above us. The rain is coming harder now. And this is just the storm before the real storm. I swipe my phone open and dial Hart.

“Just checking in,” I say. “There storm is over the town now. But no tornado warnings so far.”

“Everything is fine here,” he replies. There’s a lot of background noise. Voices calling out among background chatter. “All the staff are here in the main building, hunkered down for the night. I just spoke to the sheriff, and he says that tornado activity has lessened. Thinks the warning might be withdrawn.”

“Okay, keep me posted. I’ll check in a bit later.” I end the call.

“Everything okay?” Rosey asks.

“For now.”

“How worried are you?”

I huff out a laugh. My entire fortune is on the line. Everything’s at stake. “Not worried enough that I don’t want to fuck you again.” It’s true. My entire future might be destroyed in the next hour, and all I can think about is how ripe Rosey’s breasts look. I want to sink my teeth into her.

She slides her legs over mine and my cock springs to life. “It’s good to stay distracted in a crisis.” She pushes up and straddles me. “I don’t know if I can do this,” she says. “You turn me to Jell-O.”

A grin tugs at my mouth. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy having you try.” I tuck my arms behind my head as she arranges herself over me, her folds hugging my dick as it hardens beneath her.

“I think I might do anything you want,” she says.

She didn’t need to say the words, though they’re nice to hear. I can see the truth in her eyes, but it makes me groan just the same.

“I want you,” I whisper. “Any which way.”

Unexpectedly, she slides down the bed, leans over and takes the tip of me in her mouth. She suckles on the end of my dick, and I think I might have died and gone to heaven until she takes me deep, to the back of her throat—then I know I have.

She pauses, controlling her gag, and I groan, trying everything I can not to push my hips up to see that expression again. Fuck, she’s so sexy.

I can’t watch for long because I’m overloaded with sensory input. I’m seconds away from coming for a second time, but I’m not ready for this to be over. My mind wanders to how I can make sure this happens again. How can I convince her to take my cock in her mouth every damn day for the rest of my life?

She works her mouth up and down my shaft, her fingers coiled at the bottom of my cock, gripping me tight, showing me she’s in charge. So hot. So fucking hot.

She pulls back and releases me with a pop. She pumps her fist up my length a couple of times.

“This is selfish,” she says, reaching over me, her sharp nipples grazing my chest. She grabs a condom. “But you’re so hard. So big.” She groans, tipping her head back. “I’m so wet. I want you inside me right now. Do you mind?” She holds up a condom.

Do I mind that she wants to feel my cock inside her? Do I mind that she wants to feel me where she’s soft and warm and wet? Do I mind that she’s so fucking desperate for me?

My skin is so hot, we could toast marshmallows on my abs. I’ve never wanted anything more than to feel her on my cock again.

I go to take the condom from her, but she rips open the packet herself. “I want to.”

She rolls on the condom and my mind wanders to the real possibility that I might come, just from the feel of her fingers sliding on the condom. Fucking condom.

I push up on my elbows, ready to flip her to her back, but she presses her palm against my chest.

“I want to,” she repeats on a smile.

She kneels up, reaching for my sheathed cock, positioning it so I can feel her heat, her wetness.

“Oh god, Byron. What are you doing to me?”

“Fuck,” I splutter as she lowers herself onto me.

“I’m so wet,” she says. She smooths her hands up her body to her heavy breasts, cupping them, before taking my hands and replacing hers with mine. “How can I ask for what I want so easily with you?” She’s not looking for a response.

None of this makes sense. Not for either of us. There are so many reasons why this shouldn’t be happening, but I can’t think of any of them right now.

I squeeze her breasts and pinch her nipples hard and mercilessly before releasing her as she groans.

She starts to move, her hips rolling forward and back, working my cock in a mesmerizing rhythm that pulls the air from my lungs. I can’t move. The rumble of my orgasm twists and circles. I don’t dare do a thing to encourage it. I just want to take in the glory of this woman on top of me, fucking me, making me see stars.

She slumps forward, her hands on my chest, bracing her body, but she doesn’t stop moving. “I’m so close,” she gasps.

I wait a second, two. Does she need something from me? I want her to ask. I like that she knows she can. She knows I like her asking for what she wants. “Tell me what you want,” I hiss out from my tensed jaw.

She grabs at my hand. “Touch me,” she gasps out. “Please.”

My hand slides between us, fingers finding her clit. It’s all wetness between us, and I growl at how undone she is with me. How turned on she is. It ratchets up the desire, knowing it’s mutual.

“Byron,” she cries out. “I’m so, so close.”

She moves quicker now, like she’s racing to the finish line. I don’t know how long I can hold off for. I’m so ready to come, but I want to wait for Rosey. Her fingers dig into my chest and I can’t resist any longer. I push my hips up, our bodies slamming together until my vision blurs and my orgasm crashes over me. Rosey starts to shudder above me. I pull her over me and hold her close as her entire body convulses, worried that she might shatter if I let her go.

I don’t release her. I keep her pressed to me as our climaxes rocket through us and we start the slow float back down from heaven. Her face is buried in my neck, and I breathe in her scent of wet pine and lemons.

Her heat against my body, her legs tangled with mine. It’s all fucking perfect.

“Byron, what is that?” she says finally. “What is this?”

“What is what?”

“That,” she says, like I should know what she means. “The sex. I’m not even sure we should call it that. Or at least, I shouldn’t. I’ve never… it’s…”

I pull in a juddering breath. “Intense.”

“It feels like my entire body is on the brink of breaking into a thousand pieces. You’re the only thing holding me together.”

I’m used to holding back, dealing with everything—good or bad—inside my own head. But with Rosey, I can’t seem to fight the urge to share. “It feels like what’s happening between us is the only thing that matters.”

“Yes,” she sighs. She wiggles in my arms, but I want her to stay put, lying over me like this. It feels so good.

“You keeping me prisoner?”

“Yeah,” I say. “I think I might.”

She laughs. “I might let you.”

I press a kiss to the top of her head, then release her. I get rid of the condom and we settle down into the covers, listening to the rain.

“It’s still raining.” She says softly while trailing patterns on my chest. “You have a really good body.”

I laugh. “It is still raining, and back at you.” Rosey doesn’t just have a good body. She has a body designed for me. She’s all soft curves and smooth skin, pouting lips and eyes that show me exactly what she’s thinking.

“There are a lot of reasons why we shouldn’t be doing this.” She picks up my phone and hands it to me. “Please check the weather again. I think we’re in real danger of missing the tornado warning.”

“Rosey, we’re in real danger of missing this tornado if it passes right through this fucking cabin.”

She laughs and snuggles in closer. I bring up the weather on my phone.

“It’s a lot of rain,” I say. “Even without the threat of tornadoes, it could be a problem.”

“You think it will affect opening?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

She sweeps her hand over my chest. “It will be okay.”

I close my eyes. I hope she’s right. All I know is that with Rosey lying next to me, everything feels like it’s going to be okay.