Chapter 6
SAGE
You can make one with me.
I repeated over and over what Buck Wilder had said to me before I fled from him, ducking under his forearm and from the elevator and the hospital. I’d barely slept that night because that was all I could think about.
He’d overheard me talking to the sperm bank.
How mortifying!
Instead of making fun of me, he’d… he’d offered to do the job for me. Ditch the donor sperm and take a donation from him, right from the source.
Which meant he wanted to have sex with me. And do it bare and make a baby.
What man volunteered for that?
Maybe one who wanted my family’s money. But did he even know I came from money?
Mabel was my mother’s sister and had grown up wealthy.
She’d walked away from it all for a man and settled in Devil’s Ditch.
Started the diner. Looking at her little house in the old part of town, no one would know Mabel came from old money.
Plus, what New York socialite would choose to run a diner in Montana?
Aunt Mabel and I didn’t have the same last names, so unless Mabel blabbed about her family–which I doubted since she’d left New York to avoid them and never went back–the money reason why Buck was offering his baby-making services was out.
Still, Buck made no sense. You can make one with me.
“Is this decaf?” Earl asked as I refilled his mug. He was at the counter and it was the end of the breakfast rush. Only two booths had customers, one a group of farmers who came in twice a week for coffee and a long chat, the other who’d already ordered.
I blinked, stared at the pot in my hand. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Earl,” I told him with a tired smile. I grabbed up his mug and dumped it out. Found a fresh cup and got the correct carafe and filled it.
“No worries, honey,” he said. He wore an old canvas jacket, a baseball hat that promoted a tractor company and a kind smile.
He came in every weekday morning for his breakfast so I now knew what he wanted.
Except when my brain was full of Buck Wilder and his…
services. “Heard the Wilder’s new baby is named after you. ”
I grinned at this town’s impressive gossip mill, the way news spread like wildfire in a drought. Today, I was the center of the talk. “That’s right. Pretty special, huh?”
“Pretty special,” Buck Wilder said, adding onto the conversation as he dropped down in the empty seat next to Earl and tipped his Stetson in greeting to the older man. The way he was looking at me made me think he wasn’t talking about baby Sage.
My heart skipped a beat because he was here. In the diner. In front of me. Eyeing me.
The one he wanted to impregnate the old fashioned way.
The idea of it, of him wanting to… God, breed me? Kinky as hell, especially knowing we shared the same naughty interest.
Because of that gossip mill, I knew he was the rancher of the family, the one who ran their huge property doing all kinds of things with hay and horses and cows. I knew nothing at all about that way of life or what was involved.
I just assumed it probably couldn’t involve being at the diner most mornings for breakfast like Earl, who’d probably retired before I was born. There was no doubt Buck worked and worked hard. Those muscles that made my panties damp didn’t come from a gym.
“I’ll take some of that coffee,” he said when I continued to stare.
That broke me from my thoughts as I pulled a clean mug from beneath the counter and set it in front of him.
He filled in Earl on the new babies and how everyone was going home later this morning as I took in Buck’s blue flannel shirt.
The way the top two buttons were undone and a hint of dark chest hair peeked out.
The way the sleeves were rolled up and his forearms were exposed.
And his hands… hands that would touch me in all kinds of ways if I made a baby with him.
“It’ll be your turn soon,” Earl said, patting Buck on the arm.
Buck didn’t respond, only stared at me in such a heated way that I was surprised my clothes didn’t scorch off.
I couldn’t help but stare right back. Because I liked his gaze on me.
Liked how he was so focused on me. It was a little unsettling, but it also felt good, too.
I didn’t remember Jackson ever looking at me like he wanted to eat me with a spoon.
Buck and I hadn’t even kissed. We’d barely touched.
And he wanted to give me a baby. The way he was eyeing me, he wanted to prove Earl right, that his turn to be a father would come soon.
With me.
The bell from the kitchen broke the stare. I went to grab the latest order and carried the plates to the table by the window. When I returned behind the counter, Earl was gone and cash was tucked beneath his half empty mug.
“Did you think about my offer?” Buck asked.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, read the screen.
Stop blocking me and call me. I want my bag.
Jackson. God, was he calling me from every number in his office? I swiped and blocked that number, too. He wanted his bag. The oh-so-expensive bag that he’d chosen over a vacation with me.
“Everything okay?” Buck asked.
I looked up from the screen to him. “What? Yeah. Fine.”
“Did you think about my offer?” he repeated.
Did I? I thought of nothing else.
I’d been a little dreamy, thinking of how it could be. Sex… and a baby with Buck. But he was sitting before me and reality set in.
I moved to stand right in front of him, the counter between us. I leaned down, rested my forearms on the laminate between napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers. “You don’t even know me. Why would you want to offer this?”
“I want to know you,” he said. This close, I studied his square jaw.
He’d shaved this morning and I wanted to touch his skin, feel how soft it was.
Even with all the greasy scents from the diner, I could pick up his soap.
“I’m offering because no way should you go get some random sperm. Who knows what you’ll get.”
“It’s tested and–”
“What you pay for might not take. I’m willing to give you load after load of my cum until you’re pregnant free of charge.”
My mouth fell open at his dirty talk. It was crude, but my mind–and vagina–parsed it as sexy. I imagined Buck on top of me, thrusting deep, my hands cupping his butt and pulling him in deeper as he came inside me. Over and over.
“Why would you want to do that? It means–”
“You’re mine. That I want to keep you, knock you up so you can’t leave me.”
My eyes widened. His answer surprised the heck out of me. “You want to keep me?” My eyes dropped to his mouth. “We haven’t even kissed.”
“That can easily be resolved. Right now.”
He hooked a hand behind my neck and pulled me toward him.
And kissed me right over the counter.
His mouth was firm, but gentle, but only for a moment. It turned carnal right away, his tongue finding mine.
My nipples hardened and I whimpered at how he was taking control. Right here in the diner.
Just as quickly as it began, he pulled back, hopped to his feet, keeping his gaze on me. As he rounded the counter and took my hand, his gaze was fierce. Hot. He licked his lips, as if getting more of my taste.
Buck tugged me through the swinging door and into the kitchen. “Wha–”
“Hey, Joe,” he called to the cook as he moved. “Keep an eye on things, will you?”
“Sure, Buck,” I heard Joe reply as Mabel’s office door shut behind us.
The space was tiny, a desk, chair, file cabinet were all that could fit. Buck didn’t care about any of it because he turned and pressed me into the door, one of his knees nudging between mine.
And kissed me again.
This time, his hands roamed, first by cupping my face, then down my neck, over my shoulders and to my breasts, where he cupped them through my t-shirt.
I moaned at the feel of his hands. Not quite rough, but not gentle either. He pinched my nipples through the shirt and my bra. My knees gave, which dropped me onto his thigh, making my pussy throb. I rolled my hips, eager for more contact.
“Fuck, you run hot,” he murmured against my ear.
“Buck,” I whispered, touching him as well. Through the soft flannel, I felt every hard plane of his torso. A broad chest that narrowed to ridged abs. My fingers stopped at his belt.
His didn’t. In fact, he dropped to his knees and I stared down at him.
What was he doing? Kissing me was one thing. Feeling me up, too. That was high school stuff. But this?
The way he was eyeing me indicated he was nowhere near being done.
“Gotta taste you, sweetheart.”
“Um… here? Now?” I asked, my hand lifting his hat from his head and sitting it on mine.
“Here. Now.” His fingers were on my leggings–thank God I wore those instead of jeans for unintentional easy access in this situation–and he tugged them and my panties down to my knees. “Fuck, look how pretty you are.”
His eyes remained squarely on my pussy. I waxed bare because that was what Jackson had said he liked, but clearly not enough since he’d cheated on me. I could’ve stopped with the appointments, but really, after a while, they only got easier.
Jackson had never, not once, looked at my pussy like this. Like he had been lost in the desert and my pussy was the sustenance he needed to survive.
Then he leaned in. Breathed.
I pushed on his head. “Buck!” I hissed.
“You smell fucking perfect.” Then he licked me. Once, right up my seam. “Taste sweet, too.”
He pulled back and looked up at me.
This time, when I tugged his hair, I pushed his face back between my thighs.
“More.”
He smiled then, his lips slick with my arousal. “You need to come, sweetheart?”
I nodded, glancing down at him. His hat was big on me and slid around as I moved, but I felt an odd sort of protection wearing it. Like a college guy and his team hoodie, wearing a guy’s Stetson was a special kind of claiming.
So was he, about to eat me out. That was a claiming.
He tugged at my leggings and worked them, along with one sneaker, off my left leg, freeing me for him to–
“Oh God,” I said, when he tossed that leg over his shoulder and went to work, zeroing in on my clit
One hand cupped my butt, the other slid up my inner thigh. He found me wet and really tight when he slipped two big fingers into me.
“Don’t stop,” I said, rolling my hips, chasing the orgasm I was getting to in record time.
Maybe it was the illicit location. Joe was in the kitchen, diners were sitting at their booths while I was getting eaten out in the back room. That was hot.
Maybe it was Buck’s talent. I definitely couldn’t diminish that because… wow.
Maybe it was us. It was his voraciousness for me that fed my pleasure.
He wasn’t on his knees out of obligation. No, he was a man who liked to eat pussy.
Mine, especially.
I thunked my head back against the door, closed my eyes. His hat tipped.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I whispered, then came.
I bit my lip, whimpering and trying to breathe as I bit my lip. No way was I letting Joe or anyone else know what we were up to.
My inner walls clamped down on his fingers that were doing some curling, magical thing inside. I felt myself get wetter, then wetter still.
He licked me through my orgasm, then kissed my clit, my inner thighs, then sat back on his heels and put his two fingers that had been inside me in his mouth. Licked them clean.
Reaching up, I set his hat back on his head. Grinned.
“I like the way you kiss,” I admitted.
He winked up at me. “Not gonna get that from a sperm bank.”
Oh my God. While he was right, I was mortified.
“There’s more where that came from. Soon.”
Then he worked to get my leggings and panties back on and pulled back up.
Helped me in my sneaker like Cinderella before her prince.
Only when I was presentable again–I could only imagine how flushed my cheeks were–he stood, adjusted his Stetson, then opened the office door and left, leaving his clean scent and the view of his taut ass in his wake.
If that was… that, then sex was going to be insane. My pussy tingled and throbbed, eager for more. I was wet–even though he’d licked it all up–and my clit tingled.
I wanted to have sex with Buck Wilder. There was no question of that. He was gorgeous. Sexy. An amazing kisser. An amazing pussy eater. Dirty talker, too. I had no doubt he’d be very skilled between the sheets, once we got to a bed.
I ducked into the bathroom and washed my hands, then looked at myself in the mirror. I definitely looked like I’d been up to something because my tiredness was gone. I looked relaxed and flushed. Like I had a man who’d seen to my needs, wherever and whenever was required.
Fooling around with Buck Wilder was one thing. But did I want to make a baby with him? I’d be tied to him for eighteen years. He wasn’t anonymous sperm. He was a cowboy from Devil’s Ditch who seemed to have a breeding kink and a very diligent nature.
I wasn’t sure if I could resist, especially not after that sample. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.