The Bear's Virgin Darling (Honeypot Darlings Book 1) Page 8
“That was a pretty loud sigh,” he looks concerned. “Are you okay, Hope?”
“Yeah,” I gulp. I’m not ready to tell him what I was thinking about. He’s not ready for the insecure bundle of my true emotions. No, I need to learn to get myself under control, maybe date around a little, maybe have a bit of fun, and then I’ll be ready for someone like Wyatt Blair.
He strides into the room and takes a seat in one of the desk chairs. He props his dirty boots up on the desk and raises an eyebrow, as if he’s quietly challenging me to tell him not to mess up his desk.
“How was your morning?” I ask, trying not to stare at his jeans, trying not to think what his dick will feel pressed against me as we kiss, trying not to imagine how he would feel thrusting deep inside of me.
“Productive,” he says. “Alex and I finished fixing the fence line.”
“Did you find your calf?” I ask, and he nods, but he suddenly looks troubled. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s strange,” he comments. “We found him wandering just outside the property line, a ways down from a hole in the fence.”
“That makes sense, though, doesn’t it?” I ask. He had mentioned yesterday they had some trouble with their calf.
“Sometimes fences are damaged, but this was a different hole than the one Alex found yesterday. Usually I wouldn’t read too much into it, but the fence didn’t look like it had been damaged by an animal.” Now he frowns. “It looks like the fence was cut.”
“Cut? What, like, by a person?”
He nods. “I can’t imagine who would do it, or why, but that’s what it looks like. We’ve never dealt with anyone sabotaging our property before and to be honest, I’m not sure how to handle it.”
He looks frustrated, lost, and I’m filled with the sudden urge to comfort him. That’s when I remember I’m trying to change. The old me would have simply nodded and offered some hollow words of encouragement to try to get him feeling better, but the new me?
The new me is bold and sexy as fuck.
I stand up and move toward him. He looks at me, but doesn’t drop his legs from the desk. Wyatt raises an eyebrow.
“Can I help you, Hope?”
“I think so,” I say. “I have this problem.” I push his legs down so he’s sitting back in his chair, but his feet are on the floor. His hands are still folded in his lap.
“What kind of problem?”
“The kind of problem only a big, strong, sexy man can fix,” I murmur, and I raise a leg and sling it over him so I’m straddling his lap. My hands go on his shoulders and I’m sitting on him. I’m sitting on Wyatt. I’m sitting on my boss and my pussy is soaked and I’m so horny I might just die.
Inside, I’m shaking. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Who is this wanton and where is the trembling, fearful me?
Oh yeah, I left that bitch in Missouri.
Sexy me has come out to play.
“You’re playing with fire,” he says. His words come out husky with arousal, with need, and I feel his cock harden beneath his jeans.
That’s when I know I’ve got him.
I lean in close, brushing my lips against his cheek as I move to his ear, and I whisper, “Maybe I’m not scared to get burned.”
That’s all it takes. I’ve freed the beast that is Wyatt Blair and he growls, fists my hair back and kisses me. It’s fire and passion and need all wrapped into one. This is no gentle kiss. This isn’t anything like Jacob Clint ever had to give. No, this is the kind of kiss a man gives a woman when he has nothing to hold him back.
His other hand grips my ass and I grind against his dick while he kisses me. All rational thought flees and I forget that this is probably a bad idea. The only thing I know is that I need this, I need him, and I need this moment.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” He murmurs through the kiss, and I nod, but don’t answer. He thrusts up, rubbing his cock hard against my core, and I moan.
“Wyatt,” I whisper. “Wyatt. Wyatt.” He stands then, lifting me like I’m weightless, and my legs wrap around him automatically. He drops me onto his desk, pushing papers and pens to the floor. He’s careful not to drop his laptop, though, in a moment of rational thought.
I groan as he continues kissing me, but his hands roam my front. He palms my breasts over the thin fabric of my shirt, then slowly pushes my top up and over my breasts, revealing my black lace bra.
“Oh, fuck me,” he murmurs. “Hope, you’re so fucking sexy. Look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Just look at them.”
And then he just looks at me for a moment, and I feel like I could fly. I feel like a fucking goddess, like I’m powerful and sexual and free.
When Wyatt looks back up at me, he’s a man on a mission.
“I’m going to make you scream my name now,” he says. “Hold on tight, baby.”
Chapter 15
Wyatt
Her body tenses when I tell her I’m going to make her scream, and the room is filled with the scent of Hope’s arousal.
Fuck, she smells so good.
Her shirt is up above her breasts and I pull it the rest of the way off, then unclasp her bra and toss it to the side. She blushes as I get my first good look at her two sweet, creamy tits. Her nipples are pink and already hard, just begging to be licked.
“I’m going to taste you,” I tell her. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Hope. Fuck.” I can’t deny myself any longer, so I lean down and suck one of her sweet nipples into my mouth. She leans her head back and groans when I do.
“You like that, baby?”
“Yeah,” she breaths out. “That feels so good, Wyatt. Don’t stop. Please, oh, just don’t stop.”
I chuckle as I start playing with her other nipple. My tongue licks and flicks at one while my fingers twist and pinch the other. She wiggles on the desk and my dick gets even harder, if that’s possible.
“Tell me what you like, baby,” I say, taking a breath, looking up at her. Her face is flushed and pink and she stares down at me, watching me with interest and excitement. “Do you like it rough? Gentle?” I bite her nipple between my teeth and exert just a little bit of pressure until she squeaks. “Just a bit of pain? Tell me what you want, Hope. Tell me what you need.”
I want to make her come, make her cry my name on the desk. My hand rubs her pussy through her jeans and she grinds up against my hand, moving in time with my every touch.
“Tell me, Hope. Tell me what you want.”
She shakes her head, and I think it’s because she’s so turned on that she can’t think straight, but she murmurs, “I don’t know, Wyatt. I don’t know. Just don’t stop. Oh, please, don’t stop what you’re doing.”
But when her words register in my mind, something clicks and I pull back, looking at her questioningly.
“Wait, what?” I ask. My dick is still rock hard and I’m still breathing heavily, but my head is starting to clear. What does she mean she doesn’t know what she likes? How is that possible? Unless she’s-
But the blush on her face tells me everything I need to know.
Hope closes her eyes and bites her lip, but not in excitement anymore. She’s stopped grinding on my hand and I pull it back, suddenly surprised things escalated as quickly as they did, especially given the circumstances.
Hope is no longer turned on. Her scent has changed, and it’s not arousal that fills the air. No, my little darling is embarrassed, and I have a feeling that I know exactly why.
“You’re a virgin,” I say, but it’s not a question. It never was.
She opens her eyes and nods, and I can tell it hurts her to admit it to me. Why is she embarrassed about it? There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. Though coming from Hope, it surprises me simply because she’s so damn gorgeous. She’s got huge breasts and hips I can sink my fingers into. The men in Holbrook must have been complete idiots to have let her pass them by.
“Hope,” I whisper, and I’m just about to reassure her, just about to tell her that it’s okay, tha
t I don’t mind, that we can go slow, but the front door slams and we hear footsteps in the hall.
“Wyatt!” Carter calls out. “Where are you? Hey! Wyatt!” He’s storming down the hall and he’s going to be here any second. Hope’s eyes go wide and she quickly grabs for her clothes, pulling them back on. I move to the door to meet Carter before he sees her, but he’s already at the entrance to the office. He looks from me to Hope and back again, then clears his throat.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were, um…” His eyes twinkle, and I can tell he’s not sorry at all.
“What is it?” I grit out, enunciating every word clearly. This had better be fucking good because I can tell Hope is about to shut down and shut me out. Dammit. Has no one ever appreciated her before? Her uniqueness? Her bravery?
But Carter is suddenly all business and Hope sits back at her desk and starts typing, ignoring us and pretending nothing just happened.
“Alex just told me someone left the chicken coop open and the birds are out. All of them.” He glances at Hope, who has turned around in her seat.
“Holy dragons,” she whispers, pressing her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry! I swear I locked the coop after you showed me how to feed them, Carter, I’ll go round them up right now. I-“
“Hope,” he says, “it wasn’t you. I saw you lock the coop myself. This was someone else.”
“What? Who?”
“There have been a lot of weird things happening over the last few days, Wyatt, and I’m starting to think they aren’t just coincidences.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The missing calf, the random damaged fencelines, the coop. I think someone is trying to cause us trouble.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
“Could be anything,” Carter shrugs, but I think he has a theory.
“Any ideas?”
“Maybe someone got wind of the fact that we’re planning to expand and didn’t like it. Another ranch, maybe. I don’t know. All I know is that we’ve been so busy chasing our tails the last few days that we haven’t had much time to focus on anything else.”
I sigh and sit back in my seat because my brother is probably right. We’ve been pouring all of our time and energy into playing catch-up that we haven’t been able to work through the details of our expansion at all.
“Maybe we’re being paranoid,” I say, but we all know we aren’t. Honeypot might be a shifter town, but not all shifters get along. Just because you’re similar to someone doesn’t mean you’re automatically going to be best friends, and competition between businesses can be fierce.
“What if we aren’t?” Carter asks.
I look from Carter to Hope and back again, but I don’t have an answer for him. If someone is trying to ruin our ranch, I have to find out who it is, and I have to stop him.
No matter what the cost.
Chapter 16
Hope
Shortly after Carter arrives, he and Wyatt excuse themselves to go repair the fence. I finish up my work for the day, email the guys each a copy of what I did that day, including my ideas for beefing up their social media presence, and head back to my cabin.
When I get there, Alex is standing on his porch staring at me.
“What?” I ask, when he doesn’t say anything, but doesn’t look away.
“You heard about the coop, right?”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“You know, all this trouble seemed to start around the time you showed up.”
“So, two days ago?”
“Don’t play smart with me, kid,” Alex growls. Then he bares his teeth. His fucking teeth.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What are you, a fucking tiger?” I ask, motioning at his teeth. “What’s with the animal act, dude?”
Maybe I’m being a bitch, but I’m tired, horny, and overwhelmed. Perhaps worst of all, I basically told Wyatt I’m completely sexually inexperienced and then Carter came in, so I have no idea how he’s taking it.
If he’s like other guys, he’s either going to freak out or just ignore me completely, so I might as well cut my losses now.
At my words, Alex immediately closes his mouth and looks at his hands, then goes back inside his cabin and slams the door.
Great.
Micah peeks out of his home to see what caused all the racket, and I wave at him in acknowledgement with a forced smile before going inside cabin number three and throwing myself on the bed.
What a horrible fucking day.
I roll onto my back and close my eyes, but all I can think about is how I felt when Wyatt touched me.
It’s not that I’m a prude. I’ve never considered myself to be one, but after Jake and Margaret, I began to wonder if I was one.
Secret prude?
Jake and I used to kiss and touch, but not like that. In just a few days, Wyatt has taken me far beyond anywhere Jake ever took me. I can’t count how many times I’ve touched myself since being here. My body feels like it’s in a permanent state of arousal. If I don’t cool off soon, I’m going to explode.
Maybe that’s the point.
Maybe it’s time that I did explode, that I did take things all the way. I’m 26 now. I’m old enough to know better, old enough to know what I want. I’m not exactly a young college kid anymore who is just discovering the world. I’ve discovered it.
And I’ve come to figure out that sometimes, when you want something, really want something, maybe you need to just go for it and stop being scared.
Isn’t that what my new motto is? Just go for it?
I wiggle out of my pants and begin to touch myself on the bed. I trace my finger through my slit and settle it right at the top, right on my clit, and begin to rub. My eyes close and I see Wyatt. Only Wyatt. What is it about him that makes me feel so crazy? So alive? So different?
If we hadn’t been interrupted, would we have finished what we started? Would he have slipped my pants off and spread my legs?
Would Wyatt have tasted me?
I might be a virgin, but I shave daily. Would he be surprised at that? Would he be excited when he saw my bare pussy, wet and ready for him?
What would Wyatt think as he knelt before me and began to lick up my juices?
What would happen when he made me come?
The fantasy is too much for me to handle and I arch my back as I climax, muffing my cries with my pillow. I’m not terribly loud when I come, but I also don’t want to piss off my neighbors anymore than I already have.
When I’m finished, I lay in bed for a long time just staring at the wood planks of the ceiling. What am I going to do with myself? Wyatt Blair is amazing, interesting, and dark. He’s mysterious. There’s a lot more to him than meets the surface and I get the feeling that his brothers don’t really utilize his talents.
He might be the oldest of the three, but they all look to Carter for guidance. Why is that? What is it about Wyatt that the others don’t trust?
I don’t understand, but maybe there’s a story there. In my experience, the oldest kid is usually the one the others turn to. Why not with the Blairs?
I know I’m reading too much into the situation. After awhile, I decide to get up and go for a walk. It’s dark out now and the stars are out. Maybe I’ll see some lightning bugs or something. I yank on a pair of shorts and change into a tank top. I don’t worry about modesty because I don’t expect to run into anyone. Micah and Alex are probably asleep and who knows what Wyatt is up to?
Oh, I wonder what he’s up to.
Maybe he’s in bed thinking about me. Maybe he’s stroking his dick, thinking about how much I want to suck it. Maybe he’s imagining me on my knees, taking his length, making him moan.
Fuck.
I really, really want to make him moan.
The virgin thing didn’t seem to freak him out. I was certain it would. Still, maybe he’ll be weird once he has time to think about it. I don’t know. So many guys think that a virgin’s first time should be special a
nd perfect and while I used to believe that, too, now I kind of just want Wyatt.
He’s all man. He’s big and broad and filled out. He’s not tiny or squirrely like Jacob. There’s nothing wrong with tiny men, but I’m not a tiny girl. I’m 5’7” and curvy. I don’t consider myself fat, but I’m no skinny princess, either.
Wyatt makes me feel small and delicate and I love that about him.
His face fills my thoughts as I slip out of the cabin and lock the door. Pocketing the key, I hop down off the porch and quietly trudge over to the nearby field. I can see the lightning bugs from my cabin, and I know there are going to be even more when I get closer. Memories of my childhood come floating back and I can’t help but wish I had brought a jar with me.
When I was little, Margaret and I used to spend hours each night exploring our street, running through our neighbors’ yards. We’d jump and hide and run and try to catch as many fireflies as we could. Then we’d take the jars home, watch them glow all night, and let the bugs out the next day. Each night, we’d repeat the process.
Our mothers thought we were wild.
We just wanted to have fun.
Pushing the memories of Margaret out of my mind, I keep walking through the field and past it. There’s a little hill, followed by a wooded area. It’s not the best idea to go into the woods at night, but I have a pocket flashlight on my keychain if it’s too dark, and I’m curious about the property itself.
Besides, if I go back to my cabin, I’m just going to spend the night masturbating, and I don’t even have a decent vibrator to help. Maybe that’s what I’ll do tomorrow: go look for sex toys. Not that there’s anything close to a sex shop in Honeypot, but I bet there’s one down the highway at one of the other exits.
It’s amazing what sorts of things you can find at travel shops and at the “bad” highway exits.
I keep walking, sticking close to the fence. To my right is grazing land. This is where the cattle roam freely, but to the left it’s all trees and I have to wonder what this part of the property is used for, if anything. Maybe it’s just designed to look nice. I’m not sure. Hunting? Would they use this area for hunting? Probably not so close to the cattle. Still, it’s a bit strange there’s just this random forest on their property.