Chapter 6
Soren
Looking into the cozy hotel room, my heart sinks when I see that there's just one bed. Eyeing the couch facing the television, I say, "I'll sleep on the sofa."
"What?" Celia says with a laugh. "You're like six four. You can't fit on that."
"No, it's fine," I argue, but she shakes her head.
"I can take the couch."
"My mother will come down from the heavens and haunt me if I allow a woman to sleep on the couch while I am comfortable in a bed," I say, making her laugh.
"Alright. Fine. Well, we can share the bed and just stack some pillows between us or something."
She walks over to the closet and pulls out more linens and pillows.
"Are you sure?"
"One hundred percent," Celia says firmly. "You, Soren, are not sleeping on that couch."
While she sets up the bed, she says, "And actually, we're going to have to do this at my place, anyway. When Aunt Griselda stays there, she's going to expect us to share a room."
I feel heat traveling from my neck up to my cheeks when I nod.
"Yeah. I guess you're right."
It takes me a while to fall asleep lying next to the curvy beauty.
Although there is the separation between us, I can still sense her body heat and smell her perfume where I lie.
With my cock continuously twitching with desire also does not help matters, and it's not until well past midnight when sleep finally takes me.
Sitting across from my lovely fake fiancée, I laugh when she steals a potato off my plate.
"Oh, these are good," Celia says, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. "They seasoned them perfectly."
"You can have more if you want, but I demand some pancakes," I say.
"Have at it," she says, spearing three more breakfast potatoes.
When our coffee is refilled, the server tells us, "We just got word that the road has been plowed. So you can leave whenever you want."
"Awesome," Celia says. "Thanks."
I look over at her, my heart racing when I see her staring at me.
"This was quite a little adventure we had," she says with a soft smile.
"Yep. Definitely helped us get to know each other better, that's for sure."
An hour later, I drop her off in front of her cabin. She glances at me with a look I cannot read.
"So we should probably do something this weekend, I guess. Since Thanksgiving is the following week," she says.
"Yeah. How about you come over to my place? I'll cook you something."
"Really?" she says, giving me a playful grin. "You're going to cook for me? I won't say no to that. See you then," the curvy witch says as she slides out of my truck.
Watching her walk to her front door, I soak in her delicious curves before I head down the driveway.
Somehow, Celia Weaver looks even sexier sitting at my kitchen table as she devours my grandmother's pot roast.
"This is the best pot roast I have ever had," she says, taking another bite.
After dinner, we settle in front of the fire with a Bill Hader movie on the TV, which has us laughing so hard that we both have tears running down our faces. When the credits roll, Celia says, "I guess I should be going."
Is that disappointment I hear in her voice?
I walk her to the door, and after she zips up her jacket, she surprises me with a hug. Electric warmth bathes my body, just like when we danced at the lodge last weekend.
"Thank you," she whispers, and we stare at each other for several intense seconds. "I guess I should go. Talk to you later."
When the door shuts behind her, my cabin feels empty after she leaves. Turning, I look over at the flames in my fireplace, and shake my head.
Shit. I'm falling for this woman, and I have absolutely no idea how she feels about me.
After lying in bed for an hour, unable to sleep, I finally get up and turn on the shower.
The hot water feels amazing against the knots in my neck as I soap up quickly and rinse off.
Standing under the stream, I try to think sleepy thoughts, but my mind keeps wandering back to the curvy witch I am crushing on.
Pumping body wash into my hand, I stroke my hardening cock while picturing the two of us in bed together at the lodge last week.
It would have been amazing if she had climbed over the pillow wall and straddled me.
Her wet pussy sliding up and down my cock while still wearing the hotel's oversized T-shirt they gave us to sleep in.
I'd slide my boxers down, and Celia would help my cock enter her tight wetness.
Picturing the witch riding me, I imagine her breasts bouncing underneath the shirt, nipples hard and peeking through.
I bet she is a loud lay, moaning out my name as she comes on my cock.
The idea of this sends my body into a fiery frenzy as my orgasm crashes down upon me, with my seed falling into the swirling water and down the drain.
I stand under the shower stream, my heart racing as I attempt to catch my breath, but it takes several minutes for me to feel steady again on my feet.
Yep, I definitely have it bad for Celia Weaver.