In the Grey of Dawn (Welcome to Hidden Valley #2)

Prologue - Porter

You’re Mine - Phantogram ?

Six Months Earlier

“S o you're telling me that Aliens are real, but Bigfoot is too much of a stretch? You live in the mountains! He could literally be living in your backyard,” Charlie says, staring at me in shock.

“I don't know what to tell you, it's just not realistic, and anyway, who's going to be scared of someone like Bigfoot? He doesn't seem very scary. I mean, unless you had to shave him, I guess. Then that would be terrifying.” I say, thinking of how you could possibly tackle that situation. The amount of shaving cream and razors alone would be astronomical.

“ I would be scared, is who. Most normal people would be. The thought of being completely helpless to a beast like that … actually, now that I've said it out loud, maybe you're right, being restrained, maybe even tied up … that sounds like something I would be willing to try,” she says, a small smirk forming across her face. “That sounds like something I need to try.”

Taking the third bottle of wine we've shared, she tips it completely upside down and shakes it.

“Don't go anywhere, I'm going to get another bottle and I have to know your thoughts on megalodons,” she says, standing next to me, putting her hand on my shoulder for balance and squeezing it slightly before she heads toward Ace’s house. The old white farmhouse with its wrap-around porch is a beautiful feature to the valley; and from this angle, the moon glows brightly behind the mountains causing the house to stand out in the surrounding darkness.

Dante and Mila’s wedding was beautiful and I'm not too much of a man to admit it. Simple, elegant and small. Something I wished for myself many years ago. But tonight, with new friends, and getting to share in the happiness of the evening, it's been nice to just forget and be myself. The only downside I can find to a wedding this small is that Charlie and I are the only singles. So we've been lumped together. Thankfully, it's not as bad as I thought it was going to be. She’s sexy, funny, and has a bit of sass that pops out from time to time. It's not that she’s not beautiful, she is.

She's breathtaking.

Tall, curvy and a smile to die for. She's just not the woman I wanted. I guess technically Ace and Nova are single, but I like my balls firmly where they are. I'd sooner fight the Devil herself than try and get cosy with Nova. If Ace ever saw me make a move on her, especially in front of him. I don’t think I would live to see the dawn, knowing how much he loves her and the pain that would cause.

I have no idea how we ended up talking about what conspiracy theories are real, but I have a good buzz on and it's an entertaining conversation. Far better than the usual small talk you have to make at weddings.

Grinning, an idea comes to mind about how to make this night extra entertaining.

At least for me.

If Charlie is afraid of Bigfoot then I can think of no better way to scare her than pretending to be the big guy himself. I mean, I'm wearing a black suit, that's almost the same as dark fur, right ?

The other couples here are on the dancefloor, with the sheriff and Dr Johnson having departed a few hours ago. They both agreed it was time to leave us youngins to party, so our table is fortunately empty. I don't have to make an excuse about where I'm going or try to find a gap in conversation to sneak away. My brain can only think of one thing.

Catching Charlie.

Quickly getting up from my chair, I make my way across the driveway and can see her through the window opening cupboards in the kitchen. She’s standing on a footstool, one leg exposed through the slit in her dress. Her skin looks silkin in the light and for a moment I wonder what it would feel like to run my tongue across her thighs. By the time I reach the front steps of the old house, she’s no longer visible and the door to the basement is open.

My heart beats a little faster as the anticipation builds. Quietly as possible, I step into the stairwell and close the basement door, the light still shining down below. I can hear her moving around as I wait in the shadows for a moment. Turning the light switch off, a squeal echoes across the basement walls, accompanied by the sound of something heavy falling to the ground.

It takes a second for my eyes to adjust as I creep down the stairs, remaining in the black of the stairwell. There is a small glow coming from the few windows high up on the wall, but not nearly enough light to make out anything other than large shapes in the darkness. My foot hits a box, making a scraping sound of something dragging across the floor and another squeal comes from where Charlie is standing.

“Who … who’s there?” she says with a shaking voice, but there's an air of strength and confidence to it. I don't know if it's the terror when she speaks that does it but I'm as hard as a rock right now. This new feeling spreading over me.

What the hell is happening?

It has to be the alcohol or something because I haven't felt … anything in six years, two months and fourteen days.

Why now? Why Charlie?

Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m no longer this person after all. My old life is simply that, my old life. Maybe, this is a bad joke after all, and I should reveal myself. Quickly, I decide to stop whatever game it is I’m playing.

Is Bigfoot even a game?

I take a step forward, completely forgetting about the box I hit with my foot just seconds ago and end up stumbling and lunging at her from the shadows.

Pushing her back into the wall, I try to catch myself from falling, while her arms and legs attempt to hit and kick me. The one that gets my shin really fucking hurts too.

“Charlie it's me. I'm sorry, it was a joke.” I attempt to tell her, but she’s still trying to hit me. “Charlie, it's me. Calm down,” I say slightly firmer, grabbing both her wrists and holding them above her head.

Moving one hand, I hold her face, making sure she's looking straight at me as I push my body against hers, trying to pin her in place.

“Charlie!” I say, almost snapping at her now, as I see her eyes come into focus in the dim light, recognition taking over.

“Porter? What the fuck! I thought you were Bigfoot coming to get me. You scared the shit out of me,” she says, breathing heavily.

“Well, I guess that was the intention but I didn't think you’d get so worked up. I thought it would be funny,” I say, trying to mask the hint of regret I feel over my joke gone bad.

“It wasn't,” she snaps, squirming under my hold, my leg going between her thighs as her agitation becomes evident.

“Stop moving,” I growl into her ear. Her heavy breathing causes her breasts to press against me, and my cock is so hard at this point, there's no doubt she can feel it.

I'm at a crossroads.

I don't do this.

I don't have casual sex.

I'm loyal to a fault and despite it being over six years, my heart still yearns for the love that I lost. My cock however, has decided now is the time to wake up.

Lost in thought, it takes me a second to realise the small whimpers are coming from the woman I'm pressed against. Her pussy seeking friction from the gentle grinding on my thigh.

To feel the soft curves of a woman is one I never expected to have again, the idea of it long forgotten. Here and now though, with my body pressed against hers, nothing else matters and I can't help but let my weakened defences break and have this moment consume me.

“Are you going to come on my thigh,” I whisper in her ear, her hips moving quicker at my words. I move my leg higher, giving her more of the friction she seeks. “If I reached down …” I say slowly, dragging my free hand down her neck, her arm, until it rests on her hip, firmly holding her and stopping her movements.

“Please.” She begs as a breathy moan escapes her lips.

“Am I going to find you ready for me if I touch you?”

Moving my leg away, my hand finds the slit in her dress and I tease her by running my fingers up her inner thigh, not quite reaching where she wants me to. A small gasp escapes her as I lean in and whisper, “Do you want me to touch you, Charlie?”

“Yes,” she moans.

Instantly my hand finds her pussy, pushing her panties to the side as I push two fingers inside her, curving them slightly, almost immediately hitting the spot I'm looking for when she calls out my name.

Resting her head on my shoulder, she rocks her hips, trying to get more than what I'm giving her. I'm so pent up right now it's taking everything in me to drag out her pleasure. Slowly, I move my fingers in and out of her, my thumb finding her clit and just resting it there.

“You’re so wet for me. Such a good little whore trying to fuck my fingers.”

Her whimpering gets louder and I can feel her pussy begin to clench around me. Finally giving her clit the pressure she needs to bring her over the edge. Her hands grip me harder and her body shakes as I work her through her orgasm.

Pulling her head away, she rests it against the wall we’re pressed against, allowing me to study her face in the dim light. Breathing heavily, she locks her eyes to mine as a smile spreads across her face.

“More.”

I can't help but get a strange sensation that I've met my match in her.

I'm not sure what the object is that is next to us, it could be a desk or a freezer, a random piece of forgotten furniture, but it's the perfect height for what I have planned.

Reaching up, I bring both of her arms down behind her back, moving her body so I'm standing behind her. In one swift motion, I bring her dress up and over her hips, pressing my free hand on her back so her chest rests on top of the piece of furniture.

Unbuckling my belt, I pull it out of my pant loops in one swift motion, causing it to snap, cracking in the air around us. Wrapping it around her wrists, she’s a glorious sight to behold. Bent over, her hands restrained. I can see her pussy just catching enough of the dim light to glisten.

Unbuttoning my pants, I have no intention of taking things slow any more as I pull my cock free and drag it through her wetness, the sensation is overwhelming and I almost come there and then.

It's been six years since I've been with a woman, though not from lack of offers. But right here, now, Charlie is different to every one of them, and I can't quite figure out what it is.

“Fuck me, Porter,” she moans, wiggling her hips enough so that just my tip slips inside her. I can't help but let out a long groan as I follow through and push until I'm pressed to the hilt, the sensation overwhelming with the amount of need I have for her.

Steps come from the kitchen above us, the sounds of laughing and talking causes Charlie to stiffen around me. Rubbing my hands up her back, I lean over her slightly waiting to see what unfolds. A second passes, then another and I'm about to pull out, accepting the situation for what it is, grateful to have this taste of her affection.

“Keep going. Please, Porter,” she begs. “I want this. I want you.”

Bringing both of my hands to her hips, I pull out and slam back into her over and over. Ignoring the people above us and the slow beat of the music from outside. I bring my palm down on her ass, slapping her hard, her pussy clenching around me as she cries out.

“Such a greedy slut. Your ass is going to be red once I'm done playing with it.”

Bringing my palm down again in the same spot, her pussy drips for me as she cries out. Grabbing her hips, I can feel her clench around me and I know she's close.

“More,” she pants, as I thrust into her so hard, whatever furniture she's leaning on moves a couple of inches, dragging across the ground each time I slam into her.

Bringing my palm down on her ass for a third time, the loud crack rings out once again as I reach around, pressing firmly against her clit. Her pussy clenches around my cock and I finally let myself fall apart, pushing in deep as her walls hold me in place, taking everything as we ride out our shared orgasm. I almost come again thinking about how my cum will drip from her when I pull out.

Moving my hand, I press against her back to keep her in place. Slowly, I pull out of her, taking my finger and dragging it through her slit, spreading my cum over her pussy. I can't help but take a knee behind her, trying to get a better look but the lighting is too low. Other than the faint glisten of our juices, I can't see enough of what I want. Pressing my face against her pussy, I drag my tongue from her clit to her entrance, groaning at the taste of our combined cum, hearing her moans alongside mine.

The door to the basement opens and light floods the stairwell.

“Porter? Charlie? You guys down there?” Mila’s voice rings out.

“Busy. Go away,” Charlie says, panting. She is still trying to catch her breath and leaving little doubt about what we've been doing.

“Just checking, take your time,” Mila responds, laughing and shutting the basement door. Leaving the light on so I have a clear view of the swollen pussy before me. I can't help but run my tongue through it again, getting one last taste of pure ecstasy.

Standing, I unwrap her wrists from my makeshift restraint, rubbing them gently where it's dug in slightly. She leans on her elbows, still bent over and exposed for me, letting me admire the clear handprint I've left on her ass which is starting to welt. Taking my hand, I gently rub over it, trying to ease the burn, her head dipping slightly at the sensation.

I could get lost in this need to try and soothe her, the feel of my fingers sliding across the slightly raised skin.

A heavy sigh passes her lips and she moves to stand, her dress falling down once again. Turning, her eyes meet mine, scanning my face for a second before she smashes her lips against my mouth. I can taste the debauchery of everything we’ve done as our tongues indulge in each other. But almost as fast as it started, she pulls away, quickly adjusting her dress to try to hide any evidence of what we were doing.

“We taste good together,” is all she says, giving me a wink before she walks to the stairwell, oozing confidence and sexuality. Leaving me standing in the basement with my pants around my ankles, my heavy cock hanging out, wondering how quickly the tables were turned and how this woman managed to scratch the surface of my cold dead heart.