Page 11 of Kristoff

I loosen my grasp. Apparently I was digging my nails into his shoulders. It isn’t until he bottoms out that he releases my leg. I bring both knees up and out, needing him touching every intimate spot.

He pulls out, sliding in more easily, then does it again. By the third turn, he’s thrusting in deep, with a solid slap filling the silence each time.

At this point, I’m beyond caring about tender spots or anything else not dealing with Kristoff.

CHAPTER SIX

Kristoff

It’s a hell of a thing to wake up with your hand over a woman’s breast. Having spent half the night fucking said woman makes it all the more satisfying.

I pull away slowly, arranging the sheet over her as I try to keep from waking Brianna. Bracing myself on an elbow, I take one last look at the dark-haired beauty. Brianna, I let her name coat my palate, as if I’m tasting a fine wine.

She was supposed to leave before sunrise. Neither of us woke up. It would seem we were both too tired from last night’s play. Sitting up, I can’t help but smile. My body’s relaxed to the point of being sore. I get out of bed, still naked, with my cock reminding me how incredible it felt to be buried inside her.

Opening the dresser with care, I cringe at the unexpected squeak. I look over my shoulder to find her still asleep. Okay, I’ll amend my statement, taking her from being tired to exhausted.

I grab a set of clothes then dress in the comfortable jeans and T-shirt before heading out the door. Back home, I would have ordered in buttery croissants and coffee with cinnamon or chocolate. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, you’re lucky to find packaged bread that isn’t ready to expire.

Step-step, step-step, step-step.

I’m going down the wooden stairs, taking them two at a time. Carefree in a way I haven’t felt in ages. As if a weight is lifted off my shoulders. A weight I didn’t realize I was carrying.

I need food, and not the simple porridge I prepare in the morning. I’m up late enough to have the smell of breakfast in the air, making my mouth water. Thank goodness, because I need to restore the energy I expended over the last few hours.

“Mornin’, Kristoff.” Mingo, our resident mechanic and fueling station manager, waves a hand over his head in an enthusiastic greeting.

“Morning, Mingo. How are you this morning?”

Celia comes out of the kitchen as I ask.

“Here you go, Mingo. I hope you enjoy.” She gives him a friendly smile.

“Thank you.” He winks at her then gives a once-over as she returns to the kitchen. “It’s a beautiful morning.” He gives me a toothy grin.

He always seems to be this happy when he sees Celia. Which is why Harlan delivers his lunch at noon as per our agreement. But he makes it in before work and again at the end of the day.

It was generally decided everyone would benefit from having him come by. The only time he actually washes up is when he comes to see Celia.

“We’ll be seeing you.” He scoops up his breakfast.

“Hey, we’re going to need a load of water for the tank.” With an added person, we aren’t going to make it to the next delivery with what we have.

“You’re empty already?” He raises thick eyebrows.

“The stopper in the toilet didn’t shut.” I concoct a handy excuse from what happened early on. “I’m not sure how long the water ran, but I’m sure we’ll be out during the weekend.”

“Ah, what a shame.” He tsks, knowing I’ll shell out the money to keep the business running.

“Think you can get us some any time soon?” I add, half expecting to pay extra but with no phone to contact the water hauler, we’re left to find someone who can deliver a message.

“Yeah.” He grins again. “I be goin’ to the city for fuel tomorrow. I’ll see if they can deliver before the end of the week.”

That’s a mixed blessing. We get our water but Gerald rides with him, to get out of town for a while. Unfortunately, after spending hours in the cab with him, Gerald arrives in a foul mood.

“Thank you.”

“You just say the word, and Mingo will take care of what you need.” He raises his arm in a mock salute then heads back to his shop.