Old Fashioned Sweetie by Megan Wade

Charity

We step onto the wraparound porch of a cabin that feels a world away from the bar and the road. In reality was only a five minute walk—a very romantic five minute walk that has me getting my hopes up rather high.

I know I should be feeling nervous going to such a secluded place with a man I only just met, but I’m not afraid at all. With Vaughn, I feel completely safe. There’s just something special about him, I suppose.

“Drink?” he offers once we get through the front door and he takes my coat.

“I’m thinking water after the copious amount of alcohol I’ve imbibed so far tonight.”

His brow lifts. “Do you feel drunk?”

“No,” I say with a slight shake of my head, licking my lips when I watch him shake his own coat off. I want him to remove more…

“Good,” he says. “Because I would have to sleep separate from you tonight if that was the case. I’m not the kind of man who takes advantage.”

“You won’t be.”

He nods then turns to hang both of our coats side by side on a row of hooks along the wall before he turns back to me. “Tap or bottled?”

“What?” I blink a couple of times, lost in the way he’s unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling the cuff up his muscular forearm. He has tattoos of mountains and wild animals, and it’s as if they become animated while his muscles flex along with his movement. My mouth is so dry, right now…

“Water. Tap or bottled? The bottled is cold in the fridge if that’s what you prefer.”

“Oh!” I say, shaking off my lust haze and turning for his kitchen to give myself something to do before I start drooling on the floor in front of him. “Bottled is perfect. I can get it.”

Taking a quick look around his quaint little kitchen, I pull a bottle of water from the fridge and turn to find him right behind me. “You want one too?” I ask in a whisper, the heat of his body on one side of me, and the cool from the fridge against my rear. I’m caged in here.

“I’m happy to share if you are,” he says, taking the bottle from my hand and uncapping it for me.

“I can share,” I say, taking the bottle back and drinking thirstily.

“Things. Not people,” he adds, watching me with hungry eyes as he takes the water from me and drains it.

“No. I don’t want to share people,” I say, licking my lips as I watch his adam’s apple bob when he swallows.

“Then we’re on the same page?”

“I think so,” I whisper, gulping as he crushes the bottle in his hand then tosses it to the side. “You’re saying you need this to be exclusive.” I gesture between us. “No sharing our bodies with other people.”

A slow grin takes over his face as he lifts a hand and runs the tip of his finger along the neckline of my dress, lightly brushing the swell of my breasts. “I want to be the only man who’ll ever know how you taste…how you feel wrapped around my cock. I need you to be mine and mine alone.”

My breathing quickens and my vision turns fuzzy, the meaning of his words tightening in my core. “That’s a big commitment,” I whisper, reaching out and running my fingers down the center seam of his shirt. “What happens if I don’t taste good at all?”

He chuckles as he places his hand on my hip, tugging me closer. “I can smell you, sweetie,” he rasps, leaning in and brushing his lips and tongue along the curve of my neck. I shudder and mew like a little kitten. “And you smell good enough to eat.” Lifting his head, he brushes his mouth against mine before lowering to his knees in front of me. “Can I taste you, Charity?”

“Oh god.” My legs almost give way as his hands slide under the hem of my skirt, making it very clear to me exactly where he’d like to taste. “I…I’ve never…So I don’t know…”

“How about you hold on tight to something and tell me to stop if it feels like too much?” he suggests, inching the skirt of my dress up a little higher, the cool shelving from the fridge hitting the back of my thighs.

“OK,” I gasp, nodding as nerves and excitement mix together and create an almost paralyzing sense of anticipation that causes a strange noise to escape me when he hooks his finger into the side of my panties and pulls them aside, humming with pleasure as his tongue meets my center. “Holy water!” I’ve never felt something so wonderful in all my life.

Vaughn pulls his head back and looks up at me with a quirked brow, his green eyes dancing with mirth. “Holy water?” he repeats.

Letting out a slight giggle, I slide my fingers into his thick dark hair. “It was a mix of two thoughts—‘holy crap’ and ‘I just came here for water’.”

“Holy water,” he says again, chuckling as he hooks an arm behind my knee and positions it over his shoulder, giving him greater access to my throbbing core. “I like it. I like you too.”

Then he leans back in and gets to work, treating me to a long lick and a gentle suck as my hand grabs for the top of the fridge door and my back presses against the shelving, my mouth losing it’s ability to speak with every perfect lick and tantalizing suck.

“So good,” I moan. “Feels so gooooood.”

He moans against me, the rumble in his voice reverberating against my clit and causing the coiling intensity in me to…well…intensify. I feel like I’m about to explode.

Which is when he slides a finger inside my very desperate and achy hole.

“What is…. Oh god, that’s doing something. Oh my….I’m… Vaugh! Wow!”

With his tongue teasing my clit, and his finger moving in and out, the gentle added hum as he responds to my enthusiastic comments is enough to send me catapulting into another realm entirely. My fingers tighten in his hair, tugging at his scalp as my hips buck forward, my entire body trembling as this massive release of energy flows out of me and directly into Vaughn’s mouth, giving him that taste I’m sure he was seeking.

“Oh god. Oh god! Vaughn! Please!”

I can’t decide whether I want him to keep going or shift away, but it seems my body makes the unconscious decision for me when my hand presses against his forehead and pushes him back.

With a wicked grin on his face and a desperate glint in his eye, he quickly rises to his feet, his mouth colliding with mine as his arms wrap around me and lift me off the ground. “Need more than just a taste, sweetie.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper, hooking my legs around his middle, my arms around his shoulders. He grunts out his pleasure, his mouth returning to mine. Then we’re moving across his living area and into his bedroom, our pace only slowing as he lowers me onto his bed.

“Last chance if you’d rather the guest bedroom,” he says, holding himself over me as I shake my head.

“No. I want to be right here. In your bed.”

He grins. “Right answer.” Leaning back, he pulls his shirt over his head, and I almost come again just from the sight of him. My man is ripped. I am one very lucky sweetie...