Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CAMILLE
One Week Later
“Welcome to the new and improved, Ridge Dive Bar,” West projects his voice to the full crowd waiting to get in.
West cuts the large bow and opens the new, furbished doors, stained black with a large vintage Gothic knocker. We greet people as they enter, the Huntresses helping point out various renovated features while the staff start serving drinks.
Ezra mans the new stone bar by the fireplace where we set up staged fall pieces, highlighting this year’s Harvest Brew, the pumpkin bourbon apple cider. My mouth waters, waiting for my first pint of the day.
“Happy reopening, Hero,” I snuggle up to West, who pulls me closer, kissing the top of my head.
“They seem to like it so far.” His eyes track various townies and tourists alike, judging their reactions.
“They just got in, but yes, everyone seems excited and impressed with the changes. “See? You have nothing to worry about.”
He frowns. “I wasn’t worried.”
I laugh. “Okay, honey. Whatever you say.” I kiss his chin. “Now, where’s my Harvest Brew, sir?”
Chuckling, he keeps his arm around my waist, steering me inside. West puts on his signature charm, greeting everyone. We enter his office, where he has set up a large pot that’s heating on a stovetop on the table. We’re offering both warm and cold versions of the signature drink.
“Since the cider bar isn’t safe, I wanted to keep yours apart,” West needlessly explains as he serves me a pint. “Caramel drizzle?”
“Yes, please.” I hold my hands together in anticipation.
Smiling, he hands me the warm glass that I take in both hands and sip. I savor the warm spices, caramelized bite of bourbon, and crisp apple. I lick my lips, tasting the caramel syrup.
Before I can process, West leans in and kisses me, licking my lips. Giggling, I kiss him back, opening when he deepens it, having a warm, sweet, spiced taste.
“Mmm,” he moans, pressing one more kiss. “We should take some home and play with where else I can taste that off you.”
“West Hunter, your entire family and the whole town is right outside your office door.” That glint of desire in his eyes flares as he backs us up toward the door. “They will hear,” I weakly protest, feeling my core tighten with anticipation.
“My girl loves my hand at her throat. Maybe I’ll have you suck my fingers while I make you come.”
Holy shit. I’m wet.
His body bumps into mine, and he’s already hard. West takes my drink. I whimper for an entirely different reason.
Laughing, West kisses my bottom lip. “You’ll get it when I’m done.” Then he locks the door.
Panting against his mouth, those gray-green eyes promise pleasure. He positions us against the wall across the room.
“Turn around,” he orders in that deep voice that alone can make me come.
I turn and press my palms against the wood panels aligning his office walls. Reaching around my hips, he unbuttons, then unzips my jeans.
“Will you let me fuck you against this wall, Little Pixie?”
My ass juts out, grinding back against his hardness. “Please,” I breathe out.
His nose nuzzles my neck, moving my hair out of the way as his hand slides into my underwear, under my jeans, then instantly finds my clit.
I cry out, hips jerking at the stimulation.
He tsks. “Can’t have someone coming and interrupting us before I’ve got your juice dripping from my cock, baby.”
“I want your come,” I crane my neck back, giving him room to bite into my flesh and growl. The vibration from his throat, hardening my nipples.
“Such a dirty girl,” he licks up my neck. “Who knew?”
“You did. Only you,” I pant against the wall.
“Only ever me,” he rasps, reaching further in and sliding two fingers inside me.
I whimper, biting my lip so hard, I might break skin.
“My goddess. Such a good girl, staying quiet for us.”
I reach back blindly and find his jean button, popping it open. I don’t hesitate. I push his pants down as best as I can from this angle. West uses his other hand to help me finish the job. His bare cock brushes my fingers.
“Hands on the wall, Little Pixie.”
Reluctantly, I slap them back as West’s fingers pump inside me. The tight fit inside my jeans makes the heel of his palm press down on my sensitive bundle of nerves.
My inner walls squeeze down on his fingers, sending shockwaves through my core.
“I want you to come, baby. Then you get my cock,” he pants in my ear, moving his hips into my jean-covered ass.
“Pull down my jeans,” I whine. “I want to feel you wet between my cheeks.”
“Fuck, you’re my dirty girl,” he groans, pulling out his fingers, causing me to cry out.
West pulls my jeans and underwear down past my knees, gets flush behind me, and thrusts three fingers inside me.
“Oh, God,” I can’t help but cry out.
His other hand covers my mouth as his shaft that I feel drip with precome, slides between my cheeks, and starts fucking me there.
“Come now,” his voice gets deep and raspy. “I need inside you before I slip into this ass.”
Why the hell does my pussy clench at the idea?
“Shit,” he moans. “I’m taking that ass one day, baby. But not today.”
“Fuck me,” I mumble behind his hand. “Now.”
“I said, give me one, Nyx. I want my fingers drenched. Then I’m going to make you taste yourself as I fuck you hard.”
That does it. My body locks up before stars burst behind my closed lids.
My hips frantically work his fingers, chasing, wanting more.
Before I’ve fully come down from the high, West slips his fingers out, lines his cock up, and thrusts so deep, I shout, overcome as every nerve fires electricity all over my body.
“Fuck, you take me so good, baby.”
Moaning, whining behind his hand, he reaches up my sweater, digs into my bra, and squeezes my breast. My hips slap back into his in perfect rhythm. As my cries get louder, West trades hands, covering my mouth with the other and sliding the two fingers that were inside me into my mouth.
I moan around them as I suck. I swell around his hard cock as he chokes a moan into my hair. My legs buckle as my stomach tenses. Every muscle below coils up and locks in place.
“I’m coming, baby,” West groans as I take him with me.
I feel the rush of wet heat fill me as West pinches my nipple, his hips chasing as he releases inside me. I bite down on his fingers, crying out as my body loses control, giving and taking.
I moan, circling my hips, prolonging this feeling.
West’s hand, at my breast, moves down and holds my waist still as he presses deeper and stays. Our release fights around his hardness that slowly softens. I’m leaking around him. In this moment, fuck the mess. I’ll take twenty more of those, please.
We’re both out of breath. My body loses all function to stand on its own. West holds us up against the wall, his chest rapidly rising and falling as our lungs pump necessary air into our lungs.
“Damn, Nyx,” he exhales. “I’ll never get enough,” he laughs.
I turn my face, and his lips automatically find mine. This is my favorite part. I adore what we just did, but this, this intimate moment, where the blinding haze of wanting the other fades, and we’re fully present again. Each kiss, a reintroduction.
“Hey, baby,” he whispers.
“I love you,” I whisper back.
“I love you,” he returns. Then my charming West grins. “Fuck the festival and reopening. Let’s go home and do that again.”
My chest sweetly aches, laughing, as he pulls my pants up before righting his.
“Keep it in your pants, Hero,” I smile, patting his chest. “We have a long day ahead of us.”
Sighing, he grabs my forgotten drink and brings it over. “Don’t I know it.”
Giddy, I take the mug and drink. Moaning, I sigh in bliss.
“Hey.” He faces me. “What did you end up naming this?” I ask.
That mischievous smile pops that one dimple. “Come and see.”
“Um, sure, but I’m in desperate need of a clean up. This is why women carry extra pairs of underwear in their bags,” I mumble, taking said bag and heading to the bathroom.
Once we’re both fresh and presentable, West takes my hand and guides me back outside.
“What did you do?” I ask, suspicious.
He just wiggles those brows over his shoulder, still walking us toward the fireplace. West grabs my shoulders and turns me to face the display.
How did I miss that?
Under the Harvest Brew display, a sign reads:
Pixie Harvest Cider
“You didn’t.”
West wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on top of my head. “I did. You inspired me. Now, you’re forever memorialized for Fall.”
I turn in his arms and kiss him, balancing my cider as I stretch up and mold my body to his. His hand squeezes at the top of my ass, groaning into the kiss.
“Stop groping your girl. I need her at your booth.”
Smiling, I pull away as West scowls down at Nora. She shamelessly raises a brow, challenging him to argue.
He speaks against my bottom lip. “Come back quickly. We need to make Hero Fried Bologna’s debut.”
“He was serious about that?” Nora asks, her face cringing. She hates bologna.
West kisses me, then slaps my ass. “Return her to me in one piece, Graves.”
“She’s her own woman, Hunter. Perfectly capable of fending for herself.”
“Damn straight,” I agree, smiling, then winking at my gorgeous, sexy man.
“Wipe that stupid grin.” Nora’s grumpy.
I laugh. “Don’t take out your sexual frustration on me.”
She stays silent for a moment before huffing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whatever you say,” I giggle, bumping her hip with mine.
The Ridge booth has a collection of drinks, bar treats, and carved pumpkins. I’m still thinking of my punishment for West after making me carve almost twenty in the last week and a half.
Once everything at our table is running smoothly, I walk between the other booths, smiling and greeting people I grew up with or around. Not Jackie. I smile a big, fuck you, to Jackie and move on.
Jenkins warmly smiles from across the path, pride glowing on his face as his prized pumpkin, Big Betty, sits massively by his side, wearing a gold ribbon. I wave back before venturing past the Festival perimeter and head for the hillside.
The trees that change this time of year are in full autumnal force. The colors spread across the horizon like paint splattered on the canvas. I deeply inhale the late October crisp, still felt with the sun beaming high in the sky, its rays marking the valley below.
Home.
I jerk as arms wrap around me, but instantly, I know who they belong to. I lean back into his warm, strong body.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice intimate.
Moving my hair off my neck, West kisses me, sending shivers down my body. “Missed my girl.”
I nudge his face with my cheek. “How are things at the Ridge?” I ask.
“A hit. I think business is going to be very busy this holiday quarter.”
“Good.”
West rests his chin on my shoulder, pulling my body closer. “Thank you, Nyx,” he whispers.
“For what?”
“For coming back home. For running into my bar that night. For reminding me of who I am and telling me I’m worthy to be loved by you.”
My eyes heat as tears well. “Hero,” I whisper, turning in his arms.
My sensitive boy. I caress his face as he, too, gets emotional.
“You didn’t need me to get there, but I’m honored to be the one to remind you.
You have such a beautiful heart, Hero. You’re so much more than people see.
And I’ll continue to support and love every part of you. I am in love with you, West Hunter.”
“Move in,” he blurts.
My eyes open wide.
“Who are we kidding? We’re basically living together. Fuck if anyone thinks it’s too soon. That is, if you’re okay with wanting to be around me all the time. I promise to supply nightly orgasms.”
My chest shakes from laughter. “I promise to return orgasms. And I don’t care what anyone thinks. I like sharing space with you. Feels effortless.”
“Right?” he says, getting excited. “From the first kiss, this has felt timeless.”
West lowers his head and lightly kisses my lips. I exhale when he lifts his head.
“Perhaps we’ve been more to each other before? In other lives.” I don’t know if I fully believe that, but I love the idea of it.
“I’ll find you in every one, Nyx.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Hero,” I smile.
We lean on each other and take in the mountain autumn view.
The aromas of the Festival tickle my senses, and a serene sense of security falls in place as West’s sandalwood and fresh forest rain scent envelop me into this place of belonging.
All at once, I see our future, full of Sunday dinners, countless intimate pillow talks, supporting each other’s wins, adventures, and tons and tons of orgasms.
It’s not just good to be home, but to have also found it.