Page 45 of Christmas at Hart's Ridge

She tilted her head back to look at me, her eyes darting all over my face like she was trying to tell if I meant it. I did, so I hoped I looked it. The last thing I wanted was for her to have doubts.

“I want you to teach me,” she said. “Show me how to touch you and what you like. I want step-by-step instructions.” Her hand moved between us, skimmed over my cock, her touch shy. “We could start right now.”

I grabbed her wrist, stilling her, and hissed a breath through my clenched teeth. “It wouldn’t be much of a lesson right now. I’m too wound up. A couple tugs and it would be all over.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding far too interested in the prospect.

“Really.”

Her fingers stretched toward me, grazing my cock. I groaned. “Bethany,” I warned.

My resolve was leaking out of me right along with pre-cum. Would it be so bad to let her jack me off? Maybe it would even be a good thing. Take the edge off so I could last longer for her tonight.

But no. I wasn’t going to do that. The next time I came, I wanted to be inside her.

I jolted out of bed so fast she fell forward, barely catching herself with her hand. “Hey!” she protested.

“Sorry, Red. But this is how it is.” I tossed her clothes to her. “Get dressed.”

I threw on my jeans before I could change my mind. It was rough stuffing my aching cock inside and the zipper barely managed to close. She watched me avidly, running her tongue over her lips for no other reason than to kill me, I was pretty sure.

Only when we were both fully clothed did I dare to touch her again. Leaning against the doorframe, I tilted her chin up to mine.

“Tonight, Red.”

Chapter 17

Bethany

This.Was.Torture.

Ethan gave me a ride home since my mom’s car was still in the shop. I felt like the worst person in the world sneaking out of the house only to turn around and ring the doorbell, pretending I had been at the bunkhouse the whole night. It was the first time I had ever kept a secret from him.

Of course, it was also the first time I had any kind of secret worth keeping.

Ethan hadn’t seemed to suspect anything, but he was quiet on the drive home. That wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Ethan was often quiet. Still, it felt awkward in a way it never had before. I hated that.

Luke needed to get his shit together. I wasn’t going to keep lying to my best friend.

Ethan had offered to stick around while I showered and changed into clean clothes so he could drive me back to Goat’s Tavern for the dinner shift, but Dad, who had arrived home from church with mom at almost the exact moment, offered to be my chauffeur.

“I’ll pick you up when you’re done,” he had added. “What time do you get off?”

“Oh, I’ll probably just crash in the bunkhouse again,” I had said, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that I would be there to have sex. For the first time. With Luke. It was ridiculous that I felt guilty. I wasn’t some teenager sneaking out to see her boyfriend. I was a full-grown adult.

Now I was back at Goat’s Tavern, working behind the bar for the dinner shift. Sunday evenings were the only time the bar was less busy than the dining room. Since I was the newest employee, I got the slot—it meant less tips, but I was so close to paying Ethan back for the car that I wasn’t worried about it.

What I was worried about was surviving the next three hours until we closed the restaurant.

Because in three hours and however many minutes it took to rip his clothes off, I was going to have sex with Luke Fucking Buchanan. He knew it and I knew it and for those three hours he seemed bound and determined not to let me forget it.

A heated look across the restaurant that made me blush.

A brush of my elbow that sent goosebumps up and down my arms as I passed him beers for his table.

A skim of his fingers across my lower back as he walked behind the bar counter to get a glass of water.

I was a jangle of nerves and need, one illicit touch away from dragging him to his office and demanding he divest me of my virginityimmediately. On the floor, against a wall, over his desk, whatever. At this point, I truly did not care. I was a live wire. All I needed was a spark to fully combust into fireworks.

---