Chasing Whiskey Read online

  Dale does, too.

  This time, we don’t take our time.

  This time, things don’t go slowly.

  This time, I need him fast and hard and quick, and I straddle him on the couch and kiss him. He pulls my shirt off and somehow, my bra disappears, too. I’m grinding on him, acting like I’m a professional dancer and not just a girl who works at a bar, but I think he likes it. I know he likes it.

  “Oriana,” he says my name as he kisses me and somehow, the way he whispers it gets me hotter than anything else he could have possibly said.

  “Dale,” I whisper back.

  “Fuck,” he groans. “I need you.”

  “Now,” I agree. “I need you now.”

  I reach for his clothes as he reaches for mine. With some tugging and pulling and kissing, everything comes off, and then we’re naked, and I am on top of him.

  “Oriana,” he says again, and I lower myself onto his length. He fills me, slowly, but doesn’t move. He gives me a minute to adjust to his length, and for that, I’m grateful. There’s something tender about this moment right now, something sweet, and I feel like moving too quickly is going to make it feel rushed.

  Instead, I start to twist my hips slowly, quietly, gently. I reach for his shoulders and hold on as I carefully begin to grind against his body, lowering myself onto him even more. He groans and closes his eyes. Then he reaches for me, playing with my breasts as I make love to Dale in the middle of the day, in the middle of his house. I kiss his neck and nibble his ears as he fills me.

  And right now, I’ve never felt so complete.

  I rub my breasts against his chest, touch his hair, run my hands down his arms. Dale opens his eyes, and he looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He looks at me like I’m a fucking princess. Then his look changes, and he looks at me like he’s a tiger about to pounce on its prey.

  And then the sweetness is over.

  “My turn,” he whispers, winking at me, and he grabs my hips tightly, and he thrusts up into me.

  “Woah,” I groan, grabbing him more tightly. I’ve never felt anything like that before. He’s deep, plunging into me, filling me completely. I feel whole, filled. I feel marked. Owned. I’ve never been particularly into Domination and submission, but this? This is something I could get used to. The way he takes control, the way he makes me feel like I’m totally his? I love this.

  “We all have our little tricks,” he murmurs, and then he thrusts up into me again and again and again until I’m suddenly coming, exploding. I’m dying and living all at once and I’ve never felt anything this intense before. I might be screaming or crying out his name. I don’t even know anymore. All I know is that this is where I’m supposed to be. This is what I’m supposed to be feeling. This is what romance is supposed to be: passionate, wonderful, and a little bit naughty.

  And then he comes too, whispering my name as he does, biting my neck, holding me. He whispers sweet nothings, tells me how pretty I am, promises that he’s been wanting this since the moment he met me.

  I lean against him, closing my eyes, and he wraps his arms tightly around me.

  Safe, I realize.

  What I feel is safe.

  And for the first time, possibly ever, I feel like I am home.

  Chapter Nine

  Dale

  It takes a lot to open up to someone new. It takes bravery and fierce determination, but that’s what Oriana has. She’s strong. She’s wild. She’s perfect.

  And she’s mine.

  I’m not the type of guy who thinks he owns a woman. That’s not what I mean by “mine.” No, what I mean is that she’s mine to love, mine to hold, mine to fucking worship. I don’t think Oriana has ever been wholly, completely, and totally loved. Not the way she should be because she’s incredible.

  Sweet.

  Passionate.

  She’s a hard worker and she’s curious. She’s determined. She’s friendly. Perhaps most importantly, she doesn’t seem to mind the fact that when we arrive at work on Monday night, everyone seems to know we’re officially sleeping together.

  She laughs when Bill and Eric make comments about her being the boss man’s favorite, but she ignores their banter as she gets them their beers.

  “What happens between me and the boss man is between me and the boss man,” she says with a slight warning.

  “So something did happen!” Eric exclaims.

  Oriana just chuckles and shakes her head as she moves away. She starts restocking the bar for the night and making sure we’ve got everything we need. New Year’s Eve really cleaned us out, but we should have enough to get through until our delivery comes in tomorrow. We’re going to need more rum, and we’re getting low on vodka, as well, but somehow, I’m not even worried or concerned about it.

  If someone wants rum and we’re out, so what? They can drink whiskey for one night. They can have a bourbon and Coke. They can try tequila. There are plenty of other things and right now, I’m not nearly as worried and stressed as I usually am. I have Oriana to thank for that.

  It’s not just because we finally made love.

  It’s not because I actually got to taste her and touch her.

  No, Oriana calms me because she’s just her. She’s just herself. She’s sweet and she’s interesting and she’s adorable. She’s fun and flirty and kind.

  She’s everything a woman should be.

  And Oriana might not know it right now, but I’m going to marry that girl one day.

  We’ve only just met, but she’s stolen my heart, and you know what? I don’t really mind. She can have it forever. I know it’s in good hands.

  Epilogue

  Valentine’s Day

  Oriana

  A man walks into a bar.

  He looks around the room and smiles, but then a sense of satisfaction seems to come over him. This is his place: his project, his baby. He’s worked his entire life to make this place fantastic, and it is.

  Tonight, the bar is decorated in red, pink, and white. Valentine’s Day isn’t the busiest day of the year, but it’s not even seven, and the room is already packed with people ready to celebrate love and happiness and togetherness. A couple of girls are already dancing and more are lurking on the edge of the new dance floor, obviously thinking about whether they’re ready to make their move and jump in on the fun.

  Me?

  I’m watching the bartender make his way into the room. He moves slowly, carefully. He’s like a panther or a tiger: sleek, seductive, and self-assured. Confidence is not a problem for Dale Brennan. It never has been.

  No, if anything is a problem for Dale, it’s the fact that there’s only one of him and he has to split his time between working at his bar and making love to me.

  Trust me: he finds plenty of time for both.

  His eyes lock on mine as he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s late tonight. Usually, he opens the bar, but tonight, Audrey and I covered that because he had a super-secret errand to run that he couldn’t be bothered to tell us about. Well, he didn’t tell me. Judging by Audrey and Kyle’s sly smiles and sneaky grins all night, I think they both know what he’s up to.

  I can’t wait to find out.

  I pour shots for the group of college-age guys at the bar. They hoot and holler as I hand them their drinks. The one in charge, the leader of the little gang, shoves a wad of money into my hand.

  “Keep the change,” he says happily, and they down their drinks. I’m grateful for the generous tip, but right now, I’m all about Dale. My eyes are on him as he nears me. Closer, closer, he moves. Someone else orders a drink and I make it, moving on autopilot, as he gets nearer and nearer.

  When I turn around to make change, I feel his hands on my waist. His breath is hot on my neck as he kisses me, ignoring the cheers and whistles from the customers at the bar. The regulars are used to us being touchy-feely by now, and the rest of them? Well, it’s Valentine’s Day. No one seems to mind.

  “Hello, be
autiful,” he murmurs.

  “Hey, handsome,” I ask him. “Looking for a date tonight?”

  “I think I found one.”

  “Is that right?”

  He turns me around so I’m facing him.

  “Yeah,” he says. “That’s right.”

  “Tell me all about her.”

  “Well, she’s pretty,” he kisses my forehead. “And sweet,” he kisses my cheek. “And entirely hot for me,” he kisses my lips, taking me, owning me. He ignores the fact that we’re surrounded by people and he just dominates my mouth for a long minute.

  I love it.

  I crave it.

  I need it.

  In many ways, I’m still new to Greenville. In others, I feel like I’ve been here an eternity. It’s been a couple of months now, and I’m finally getting used to the way things work around here. My customers are comfortable with me now and rarely try to give me a hard time. When they do, I’m tougher now and know how to put them in their places.

  Kyle and Audrey have been incredible when it comes to staying safe and sane. Kyle even showed me some self-defense moves, and Audrey? Well, she gave me pepper-spray and offered to take me to the shooting range so I could learn to be a “proper country woman.” I haven’t taken her up on the offer yet, but I plan to very soon.

  Dale and I are taking things slow, but that doesn’t mean this relationship isn’t incredible. It is. I’m still living with Mrs. Bot, but I spend most of my time at his place these days. Mrs. Bot actually offered to start giving me a discount on my rent because I use so little electricity now that I’m rarely actually home.

  I told her to keep her money. She can use the funds and I don’t mind paying her. She was one of the only people willing to give me a shot when I moved to town and I’m not the type of person who forgets the people who have been good to me.

  Like Dale.

  Like Mr. Wonderful Dale.

  “I am hot for you,” I whisper.

  “I know.”

  “How was your errand?”

  “Hey! Can I get a drink?” Someone yells, but Dale holds up a finger, indicating he needs a minute, and the man goes silent.

  “It was good,” he says.

  “Did you get what you needed?”

  “I did,” he tells me. “I had to go pick up something in Cahel.”

  “You did?” I raise an eyebrow. Cahel is a larger city about half an hour away. We go there occasionally to get supplies for the bar, but Dale just went last week. I have no idea what he could have gotten.

  “I did.”

  “And what did you need?” I ask, swallowing hard, because he’s looking at me like I’m something special, like I’m important and valuable and perfect. He’s looking at me like he didn’t buy something for the bar, and judging by the way the whole crowd has suddenly fallen silent, I’m guessing the rest of the patrons know this, too.

  “You,” he whispers. “I need you.”

  He drops to his knees, then, behind the bar, and he pulls out a ring box.

  “Dale,” I whisper, and my hands fly to my mouth.

  Is this for real?

  This can’t be real.

  None of this can be real, but when I look at his eyes and see the tears forming there, I know it must be real.

  “It’s too soon,” I whisper, but he shakes his head.

  “I’ve known you for just two months, Oriana,” he tells me. “And our time together has flown by, but I already know that I want to spend all of my time with you. I want to get to know you for the rest of our lives. I want to have babies with you and buy a house with you and grow old with you.”

  “Dale…”

  He opens the ring box. A silver ring with a blue stone set in a band of diamonds stares up at me.

  “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Oriana?”

  The whole bar is silent. I don’t even think anyone is breathing as their eyes rest on me, waiting for a response.

  This really is my moment.

  When I came to Greenville, I wasn’t looking for love. I was looking for an escape, a way to break free from the painful past that was haunting me. I was looking for comfort and rest and peace, and I found that. I found it in Dale. He’s the one who makes me laugh and he’s the one who makes me feel safe. He makes me feel like no matter what happens, everything’s going to be okay.

  With Dale, I’m never afraid.

  I’m never alone.

  I’m never scared.

  He makes me feel brave, and he makes me feel loved.

  There’s nothing I can say, except for yes.

  “Yes,” I whisper, and the bar goes wild.

  I’m ready for the rest of my life.

  I’m ready for my happy ending with Dale by my side.

  And I know that our future? It’s going to be a good one. It’s going to be nothing but bright.

  THE END

  Author

  Sophie Stern writes paranormal romance and contemporary erotica for readers who like to have fun and explore new worlds. When she’s not busy writing, you can find her pole dancing or reading zombie novels. Sophie lives with her incredible husband and their two sons.

  Find out more or at www.sexysophiestern.com or join her mailing list to receive updates and information on sales.

  Take Your Time

  Want more contemporary romance from Sophie Stern? Check out this sample of TAKE YOUR TIME: a contemporary ménage romance.

  I take the long way home because after ending my relationship with my parents, I need a freaking break. Driving through the mountains is the perfect way to unwind and chill out before I go back to the real world. At least, that's what I think until I'm caught in a freak snowstorm and find myself stranded in the mountains.

  I'm lost without cell service and there's no help coming.

  I'm lost without a family.

  And that's when the lumberjacks come to my rescue. At least, they LOOK like lumberjacks. Keagan and Eli are strong, fit, and brave. They're everything I want and everything I don't need right now.

  My life is messed up enough as it is without throwing a menage relationship into the mix.

  But I can't help what I want.

  And something tells me they want me, too.

  Turn the page to read the first two chapters OR visit Amazon to get your copy now!

  1

  Melody

  Family reunions are the worst.

  They’re literally, absolutely, completely the worst.

  I didn’t even want to go to mine, but my mother offered me a free guilt-trip, and I accepted. That’s the problem with me: guilt wins me over. Every time. It’s like a sickness or a disease. I always say I’m going to stand up for myself, but in the end, I’m weak. In the end, I’d rather not rock the boat, especially when it comes to family. I don’t know why I still think this way, why I’m still stuck in this mode of thinking because they’ve never been there for me.

  I’ve always been on my own and somehow, I’ve managed to do all right for myself. I have a decent job and I make decent money. I have an apartment and a car. My student loans are paid off. Somehow, none of that matters when you enter the world of a family reunion, though.

  Somehow, what matters then is when I’m going to have a baby or when I’m going to get married or when I’m going to buy a house. Somehow, what matters is that I’m still a little overweight and not nearly as thin as my younger sister, Mandy. What matters at family reunions is that I have too many piercings and not enough modesty.

  What matters is that I don’t fit in.

  And I never have.

  “It’s not that I’m telling you to lose weight,” my mother says, picking up a carrot and waving it around. “It’s just that I think you’ll be happier.”

  “I’m happy the way I am, Mom,” I insist. She glares at me when I reach for the cookie on my plate, and I don’t pick it up. Instead, I act like I was reaching for a piece of celery, and she nods in approval as I start to munch on that, instead.
Inside, I hate the way I’m giving in to her. I might talk a big game, but I’m avoiding things I want to eat because I don’t want her to complain or fuss at me.

  “She’ll never get a man looking like that,” Uncle Henry says, walking by the picnic table where I’m sitting with my mother. He shakes his head as he makes his way over to Aunt Eloise, who is much too thin for her height.

  My entire family is much too thin, I’ve decided. I’m the only normal one. That must be it. They all have body issues and self-esteem issues and they definitely all have eating disorders. Why else would they all be so gangly and scrawny?

  It’s not me.

  There’s nothing wrong with me.

  I repeat this silently to myself, over and over. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fine the way I am. I don’t know if I really believe this anymore, though. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m starting to question whether I really am fine.

  Maybe they’re right.

  Maybe there is something wrong with me.

  Maybe there’s a reason all of my friends are getting married and I, at 29 years old, am not. Maybe there’s a reason the rest of the world really has settled down and I seem to be content with my same old job, with my same old life. Maybe there’s a reason for all of it. I don’t know.

  I can’t think straight anymore.

  Suddenly, I realize I’m close to tears and if there’s one thing I promised myself I would never do, it’s let my family know just how deeply their words really affect me.

  “Excuse me,” I say, getting up from the table.

  “It’s almost time for games,” my mother says, wrinkling her nose, as if the idea of me missing a game is just too much for her to handle.