Page 5 of Just in January

“Show me.”

She hustles to a cabinet, probably sensing how tense I am. Opening it, she stretches how far she can and lifts on her toes, reaching her arm way up as her shirt exposes a strip of her pearly skin above her jeans. Not even slowing down, I take three long strides and stand behind her. My raging hard on slots her ass cheeks while grabbing the pans.

The sensation is too much for me to bear. Planting my spread palm over the warm skin on her waist, I grip her tightly and thrust once, twice, three times into her ass. I come in my pants with a violent roar while she stiffens in my hold. Gasping for air, I freeze, then release her.

And run as fast as I can out of the kitchen.

Three

JANUARY

Hands pressed to the soapstone countertop, I regulate my rapid breathing. In through the nose and out through the mouth. My heart feels as though it will jump through my chest.

The door to the dining room still swings angrily after Justin fled through it.Fled, as in sprinted as fast as he could away from me after what he just did.

Heat flares on my cheeks that I was the one that made him do that. I made that burly god crumble and come in his pants. At least, Ithinkthat’s what happened. He seemed to take pleasure in my backside. If only I can get him to do it again, exceptwithme this time.

From the feel of his steel rod pressed to my ass, it seems as if he’s large. Not just his frame, but everywhere. It’s terrifying.

And thrilling.

Using all the pent-up sexual frustration I now feel, I breeze through cleaning up the kitchen from our dinner, storingeverything in dishes I find in various cabinets. Making a list of items I’ll need from the store for more meals, I return to my car and lug in my suitcases.

Where does he want me to stay? I haven’t even gotten a proper tour, but there are so many bedrooms to choose from, it seems. There’s a door that states “Private” on it, down a hall past the main living room, so that must be where Justin has hidden himself. A grand wooden staircase leads to a second story that presents several pine wood closed doors. The railing overlooks the gathering area below.

Moving to the first one, I turn the knob and enter a large bedroom with a sitting room and a full bathroom. It’s seen better days, but nothing a good scrubbing won’t take care of. There aren’t any sheets on the bed, but I find a set that smells fine in the closet. After I make the bed, I venture out onto the balcony from the lounge area and behold the beauty of snow-capped mountains surrounding us, just visible in the orange glow of the setting sun. It’s utterly peaceful and quiet, except for the tiny patters of snowflakes falling against the ice.

Back in the main bedroom, I situate my things and find a book in the library to settle in with for the evening. But when I pull one out, a photograph falls out of the front of it. A clean-shaven Justin stands with an older couple and a beautiful brunette woman beside him. He’s wearing a wedding band that matches hers. Maybe he’s divorced. At least, I hope he’s single after what he did to me.

And for what I plan to do to him.

In the soft bed, I slip under a warm blanket and try to read the mystery book I picked up, but can’t concentrate. My mind wanders continuously to what happened in the kitchen. The feel of his rough palm against my skin. His coarse grunts in my ear. Woodsy scent floating to my nose. And his cock.

Oh, my gosh, his cock. The sheer size should make me worried, but I want toseeit.

Slipping two fingers to my clit, I rub myself softly at first, remembering his thrusts into my back. Imagining him taking me from behind while he spanks me hard. His face had grown wan when I called him Mr. Grant… Does that work for him? Does he like that?

Thinking of this hard man between my thighs, I erupt on my fingers while sighing his name. Then fall asleep.

My alarm goes off early, but I’m already awake. Hustling to get ready for the day, I prep biscuits, eggs, sausage, bacon, and oatmeal. Wanting to provide him with anything he could want, I think about mixing up a batch of waffles or pancakes, but spend more time cleaning before he arrives to the kitchen.

When his lumbering body pushes open the door, my heart races. Holding his eyebrows low, he hangs his head, barely glancing at me. His expression is so filled with guilt, I want to rush to him and give him a hug. Perhaps also jump into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist.

As if he can’t hold himself up, he places one hand on the kitchen island and peers at me. His other palm strokes his beard rapidly. “Uh. Listen. Things did not go the way I planned them to. I, um. I take full responsibility for losing control around you. It’s inexcusable behavior, so if you need to take off or?—”

“I’m okay. It’s fine. I think, what, you haven’t been around women in quite a while?”

Dropping his head, he shakes it. “Yeah. Still, that isn’t an excuse. I shouldneverhave done what I did. I’m sorry.”

Filling up a plate for him, I slide it over on the marble top until it hits his finger. Lifting his brown eyes up my figure makes my skin tingle. “Y-you don’t want to leave yet?”

“No. I told you I’d prove myself. I like it here.” Giving him a smile seems to put him at ease, especially when I take my plateover to the table and sit down. Using my foot, I slide out a chair for him.

“This looks amazing,” he says, while sitting next to me. “I realized after I ran out last night, I never asked your name.”

A little laugh escapes my lips. “I never offered, either. It’s January.”

His eyes widen with shock. “January? Like this month?”

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