Chapter 2 Lainey
two
Lainey
The feel of Dean’s hard length against my backside is burned into my memory. I might be a twenty-three-year-old virgin, but there was no mistaking his desire as it literally pressed against me—with these damn clothes blocking our skin.
For five years, I have been searching for a place where I belong.
Ever since I aged out of the foster system and bought the cheapest car I could afford, I’ve traveled across the country looking for a place to call home.
I knew the moment I coasted into Temptation Ridge almost six months ago, I’d found the place I wanted to put down roots.
Having worked odd jobs since I was fourteen has prepared me to do any work just to survive. But it didn’t prepare me for Dean—my older, attractive new boss. Waitressing and bartending come naturally to me, but the way Dean makes me feel is something I’ve never experienced before.
Dean is the last part of my life I didn’t realize I was looking for—well, almost. He’s also the father of our future children, whom I’ve always dreamed about. Unfortunately, he hasn’t picked up on any of my hints. Instead, he’s put me in the friend zone.
Believe me, I’ve tried to show Dean how I feel about him with all the subtle and not-so-subtle touches.
New Year’s Eve should have been a wake-up call for me when he pulled away from me while I was trying to kiss him.
But I didn’t survive eighteen years in foster care and five years on my own without fighting tooth and nail for what I want—and what I want is Dean.
The warm touch of his hand on the small of my back as he guides me into his office sends a pulse of electricity straight to my clit. The soft click of the door as it closes reminds me of all the things the couples do when they sneak away from the bar for some alone time in Dean’s office.
Dean has complained more than once about the horny mountain men who can’t keep it in their pants long enough to make it home and instead hook up with their wives or girlfriends in his office.
As a joke, someone hung a flip sign on his office door, with "occupied" on one side and "unoccupied" on the other.
My eyes drift over to his desk, and God help me if I don’t imagine I’m bent over the polished oak of his desk, the cool wood a shock against my heated bare chest as my fingers curl around the edge of the desk in anticipation of his next move.
With his hand still pressed against the small of my back, it doesn’t take much to imagine that same hand pinning me in place on his desk as his other hand pulls my skirt up, the fabric easily sliding up my thighs and over my hips, bunching at my waist as the cool air caresses my soaked panties.
In my mind, he doesn’t ask—he just takes, ripping my green lace panties from my body.
I shiver at the thought until a more depressing thought invades my brain, causing me to wonder if Dean has brought women back here to hook up with.
“Are you cold?” Dean runs his hand up and down my back as if trying to generate heat to my already overheated body.
“I’m fine.” I take a step forward, trying to put some distance between us before I do something stupid like beg him to bend me over his desk, just like in my imagination. “What did you want to talk about?” I lean against his desk, needing the support to get me through being this close to him.
When I look into his face, his eyes flicker with lust for just a moment, and I almost convince myself I was imagining it until he opens his mouth. “We can’t go on like this.” He runs a hand through his thick black hair, making my fingers itch to join in and see if it’s as soft as it looks.
“Go on, like what?” I hold my breath, dreading the answer. It can’t end like this—all my dreams of marrying him and starting a family can’t end in his office on a holiday.
A pained expression crosses his handsome face, and I know I’ve lost him. “All the rubbing and touching of our bodies behind the bar—it has to stop. I’m your boss, and you're ten years younger than me.”
I take a deep breath, pushing the pain aside. I didn’t get this far in life by giving up at the first sign of defeat. “Why do we have to stop?” I ask, not even denying that the touching was intentional.
He snaps his head toward me, his eyes drilling into mine. “Because if we don’t stop, I’m going to be buried nine inches deep into your sweet little pussy until we’re both seeing stars.”
Oh my.
“Would that be so bad?” I watch the turmoil cross his face.
I see the moment he decides to surrender to the passion, and it shows on his features just as he steps toward me, grabs my hips, and lifts me onto his desk.
He pushes my knees apart, causing my skirt to bunch around my waist, leaving my green lace panties exposed to his gaze as he takes one final step, eating up the space between us, and presses his jean-covered cock against the soaked lace.
“Is this what you want?” He grips my hips harder as he grinds the hard bulge in his pants against my core before his lips crash down on mine.
The kiss is wild and erratic, just like my heartbeat.
His tongue slides over my lips, demanding access.
I open with a moan as his tongue takes over my mouth, touching every part.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against me as I arch my back, my tongue matching his stroke for stroke.
“Fuck, Lainey. You feel so good.” His hands slide away from my hips as one slips under my t-shirt and over my bra, his thumb rubbing over my lace-covered nipple, while his other hand dips between our bodies until two fingers are pushing my panties aside, teasing my entrance, dipping the tip in before pulling back out.
The sound of the office door opening doesn’t register until Dean is pulling away from me and spinning around to block my body from view of the intruders. It takes my lust-clouded brain a few seconds to realize we have company.
“What the hell are you doing in here, Wilder?” Dean’s voice sounds more animal than human as he growls at Wilder and Aspen, who I just noticed is standing behind Wilder.
I can’t catch a break. The best moment of my life is interrupted by a horny mountain man and his fiancée.