Untamed: Heath & Violet (Beg For It 3)

She closed her eyes and moaned her response. “Yes.”

“You liked that, didn’t you?”

Eyes closed, breathing fast, she managed, “Mmmm-hmmm.”

“I liked that, too. But now I want more.” I pressed my thick, full erection against her. Through my worn jeans she could feel how big I was, how hard I was for her. I wanted to fuck her like this, up against the wall, pounding and dirty. I bet she’d come when I entered her, spreading her slick, wet walls, burying myself up in her deep.

“Yes,” she panted, so ready. I brought my fingers down to her pussy, stroking her along her jeans where she’d soaked right through, so hot and wet.

“I bet you taste so good.”

She moaned, dipping her lips down to my throat. “I want to taste you, too.”

My cock swelled even harder at the thought. I didn’t know if that’s what she meant, but man I could picture it, her kneeling down before me, those perfect lips opened wide. I’d give it to her gently, ease my huge cock down her throat. Her eyes would open up and water a little at my size. I was a big man. But I bet she’d take me all in and then I’d feel her sucking me down, so eager, sucking wet and hot and licking.

BRING! What the fuck? I thought I’d turned my phone off.

“Shit.” She swore, her legs unwinding off of me and her hands moving down to my hips to push me away. “That’s my phone.”

She disentangled herself and walked over to her purse. She took out her pink rhinestone cell phone. Why did I have to get reception in my workshop? It wasn’t always so good in my cabin. Next time, I’d have to bring her to my cabin.

“Yeah,” she answered, looking away from me, straightening herself out. Pulling her sweater down and smoothing her hair.

What the hell was going on? There wouldn’t be a next time in my cabin. I shook my head, feeling like some evil magician had cast a spell on me. Why did I keep attacking her like that? Why did she love every second of it?

She said a few more one-syllable words, then ended the call and tucked her phone back into her purse.

“Sam,” she informed me. “He was checking to see if you’d thrown me out.” She looked down at her shoes. “I should leave.”

“You should go,” I agreed. I watched as she shrugged into her giant parka and picked up her purse.

She walked toward the exit, and I followed to see her out. At the door, she paused. I reached around her and grasped the doorknob. I could feel her respond to my nearness, see her bite her plump bottom lip and sway slightly as if her knees almost buckled. I brought my other hand to her hip to steady her.

We both stood there, motionless. I could have her naked in sixty seconds, spread on the floor planks, my face buried in her pussy. She’d come and then I’d slow down, lick and suck and play with her. I’d get her off, give her what she wanted, what she needed. Then I’d take my time, licking and sucking and eating her, tormenting her, building and teasing. I needed to taste her come on my tongue.

“Go,” I managed to breathe.

She left.

CHAPTER 9

Violet

In the center of town, a bunch of kids gathered together playing in the snow. A fresh layer had fallen that morning and now, in the afternoon after school, they’d gathered together in their mittens and boots and hats. Their laughter billowed up into the air, infectious. I smiled as I watched them play.

“We can’t go too wholesome.” Sam sidled up next to me, a steaming hot coffee in his hands, plus one for me.

“Thank you!” I brought it to my lips, grateful to the core. The coffee from the local shop was so good. I was already an addict.

“We get too wholesome and we lose our viewers.”

“I know.” But my voice came out a little wistful. A reality show built around cute kids building snowmen wouldn’t sell. But, look, now a golden retriever was frolicking by their side as they tossed around snowballs. Kids being kids. How about that?

So far, the Ideal Vermont Itinerary designed by Mayor Marty was making a better impression on me than I ever would have guessed. I’d seen covered bridges so picturesque I couldn’t believe they weren’t a Hollywood set. The local youth hockey coach was a Hottie McHot Hot and he had a winning team on his hands with tons of heart and compelling backstories. The local ski mountain was hilarious. They didn’t make snow, didn’t groom the trails, didn’t allow snowboarders. The people there were so cranky and cantankerous they’d be a perfect side storyline.

And then there was the food. There was the diner with the scones and the woodfire pizza place, and it turned out that even though there were only a total of five restaurants in the town every single one of them was fantastic. The local hard cider got better and better every time I tasted it, which I planned on doing again tonight.

Friday night, y’all! A few from the little crew Sam and I were scouting had insisted we join them at the local bar tonight. The same bar where I’d met Heath last weekend.

I hadn’t seen him since Tuesday afternoon at his workshop. I took a sip of my coffee. Memories of Heath warmed me up even more.

Uninterested in the children, Sam’s gaze roamed the quaint little town. A church, a library, a post office, all charming wooden buildings painted red or white. He shook his head.

“We need something more juicy.” He didn’t care so much about the charming town. He wanted some sex he could sell.

“I know,” I agreed again. “But I’m liking what we’ve found here more than I’d thought.” At first I’d wanted to leave as soon as I’d arrived. But now, six days in, I thought we should stay at least another week, maybe two. There might be a show in Watson. I kept hearing my boss’s voice—he wanted something that had never been done before. Something new. I wasn’t convinced yet, but I was further along than I ever would have guessed.

“There’s something here,” Sam echoed my thoughts. “But I’m not sure it’s enough.” He turned to me. “What about that hottie woodworker? The one who made the rocking chair?”

“No,” I dismissed the idea, maybe too quickly. I didn’t want to arouse his suspicions. “He’s not interested in getting involved.”

“We should work on him. Butter him up.”

“I don’t think so.” It was more than Heath’s resistance that made me say it. I didn’t want to share him with anyone.

“Ratings!” Sam gave me jazz hands.

Holy hell, he was right about that. Heath was a hit show in a heartbeat. He was so sexy he should be illegal.

I hadn’t seen much porn in my life, and what I had seen hadn’t turned me on. But if I were to shoot a porno, I’d start it out exactly like I’d first seen Heath Tuesday afternoon. Cue a huge, muscular man in a workshop with a helmet and a blowtorch, worn jeans hugging his powerful thighs and ass, thin T-shirt straining at his biceps. He was so fucking big. My mouth had nearly dropped open. I’d just about gone straight up and licked him, asked him to take me right then and there. That was how pornos went, wasn’t it? No plot or character development, just straight to the sex? Totally unrealistic. Unless you could cast Heath in the starring role.

Thankfully, he’d been holding a blowtorch. Even powerful lust didn’t blind me to the fact that startling a man while welding was a bad idea. You couldn’t just go straight up to a man and start humping his leg while he held an open flame. Without the blowtorch, though, it wou

ld have been on.

We’d come so close. But for those blasted phone calls, we would have gone at it all over his workshop. Every surface, every wall, on the floor, against the tables.

Oh my. Good thing he didn’t have my number and I didn’t have his. I’d avoid seeing him alone from now on. Because if I did want to recommend that the network do a show here—and I was starting to think maybe, just maybe I did—the last thing, the very last thing I needed was some sort of messy thing with a local. And not just any local, a local who hated everything about our project. A local who seemed dead set against us having anything to do with Watson.

And yet as much as he hated the idea of a reality show, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of me. Even as he’d told me to leave, he’d pulled at me to stay. And wow did it feel so good to stay, wrapped in his arms, pushed up against the wall, his fingers already getting me close even through the barrier of jeans.

“Maybe we’ll see him tonight.” Sam took a sip of his coffee. I took a sip of mine, not saying a word.

§

That night, I got ready to go out telling myself I wasn’t getting ready to go out, not like that. Not like you did when you hoped you’d see a certain guy. I was just getting ready in a general sense, not selecting lingerie with the hope that Heath would tear it off of me later. That would be bad. I looked myself in the mirror and promised myself that if I saw him, I would try my hardest not to jump him. It would be difficult, though. He was so huge and brawny.

I saw him the second I walked into the bar. The kindergarten teacher was all over him. Apparently the 1950s cheerleader had some non-G-rated moves. She was draped on him like a fucking dishrag. I wanted to toss her into a laundry basket.

“Welcome! Sam and Vi!” Mayor Marty greeted us like old friends. He wanted this deal. Even as he sold us hard on his small, charming Vermont town I got the feeling he was good and ready to leave the town behind for bigger and better things. “Let me buy you a round!”

I ordered the Applewood cider, of course, and did my level best to completely ignore the man so hot he set the corner of the bar on fire. What were they doing over there, playing darts? As if she needed any help to throw a freaking dart. He was guiding her hand toward the bullseye. Bullshit, that’s what it was.