Chapter Ten
Ryker
The second I see Ivy’s light blonde hair bouncing into the distillery, every stress in my head disappears. It’s only been three hours, but damn, I missed her. I don’t know how I thought I’d have gotten through the day without her here with me.
My sweet little troublemaker. The one person I can’t live without.
She makes her way across the bar, a bright come get me smile on her face.
Jesus Christ. I want to claim her right here in front of everyone with a big fat kiss and a squeeze on the ass, but I can’t.
Not yet. Not here. Not with Benny staring at us from the other side of the bar. Thankfully, this morning was such a whirlwind with the redneck drama that he didn’t ask any questions, which is good because I’m not sure what I’d have said after what happened first thing this morning.
My cock swells as I think about my sweet girl on her knees for me, sucking me dry, desperate to make me happy, desperate for my come.
God damn. I might not care who knows. I could bend her over right here in this distillery and give her every inch of me all over again.
She smiles in my direction and tosses her hair over her shoulder, passing by me with a glance before making her way over to Benny for a hug.
I know she’s hugging her brother, and I know she should’ve passed me to protect the secret we’re hiding, but something very jealousy-like rushes over me, and I’m not having it.
“Ivy,” I bark, my voice rougher than intended. “I need you in my office.”
She narrows her gaze toward me and bites back a grin as she shuffles her thick thighs toward my office door at the back of the bar.
I’m sure we’ve raised some eyebrows given the fact that she doesn’t work for me, and none of my employees have a reason to come sit in my locked office, but I don’t give a damn. I need my hands on her… now.
The second the door closes, I yank her against my chest and land my lips on hers. They’re so soft and perfect. She’s so fucking soft and perfect, and I gather by the way she moans, she loves the way I manhandle her.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers as she bends back, allowing me to kiss her neck.
“Yeah. Crazy for that tight, little pussy.” I kiss her chest and squeeze her full breast as I lift her up onto my desk with a grunt. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive. She’s so fucking perfect, every god damn part of her.
I palm over the outside of her tight black leggings, pressing hard against her clit as she wraps her arms around my neck and sighs warm air against the lobe of my ear.
“Fuck. Hop down and take off those pants. I need to see how swollen you are for me.”
With a sweet smile, she jumps off the desk and tugs at her leggings, pulling them down over her full round ass when someone knocks at the door.
These fuckers don’t get it!
“Busy,” I grunt, moving my palm to caress the soft swollen lips of her tight, little core.
The person at the door doesn’t take a hint. “Dude, the rednecks are back. The guy’s handing out coupons for free wings and their own house beer.” Benny twists the handle of the locked door. “What are you guys doing in there?”
Fucking hell!
“Coming,” I groan as I slide two fingers into my girl, thrusting into her softness a few times with a growl before pulling out and sliding my fingers into my mouth. “Fuck, you taste good.”
She swallows hard, her lids hooded as she stares up at me without words. I’m captivated by the look on her face when she’s speechless. It makes me feel like I’m really doing something.
I lean down and tug up her leggings before landing another kiss on her lips. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours.” She grins.
“Good girl. Say it again.”
“I’m yours.”
My chest aches with pride as I tug her in for another kiss and finally unlock the door, a floorboard creaking as we make our way back into the distillery. Thankfully, most folks are focused on the guy with a mullet and flannel handing out coupons.
“Okay, buddy.” I stand in front of him, still not ready to deal with this. Not with Ivy here, desperate to be touched. “You’ve made your point.”
“Don’t reckon I have.” The man grins and passes another homemade coupon to a patron trying to enjoy their whiskey flight.
“And what’s the point you’re trying to make? You don’t like us here? Do we represent everything you hate? Change, cleanliness, good alcohol?”
“You’re Hutch’s boy, aren’t ya?” The man grinds his teeth together as he talks. “You moved off the mountain years ago to live in the city. Now you think you can come back and bring all your city shit with you?”
“The town council approved my building,” I nod, “so yeah. We’re here to stay. Also, my father died forever ago, so… not much of him in me. Now get out, before I throw you out!”
The man shakes his head and hollers into my distillery with a twang that hurts my ears, “If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll be out of the whiskey business by the end of the year.”
I shake my head and narrow my brows toward the man. “What are you talking about? My dad didn’t make whiskey.”
The redneck laughs and readjusts his hat.
“You really didn’t know him, did ya? That man had books filled with whiskey recipes.
Had the whole mountain addicted for a while, ‘til he went and screwed it all up.” He hands me a coupon for free beer at his bar down the street. “Come see me when you’re broke.”
I roll my eyes as he heads out the front door, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about this whiskey book my dad apparently had.
“You’re not going after him?” Benny tips his mason jar up to his lips. “That was cryptic as fuck.”
“Nah. He’s probably full of shit. Something else to get us running in circles instead of focusing on what matters. Sales.”
Marin lifts a mason jar and pulls out the cherry whiskey. “No. I think it’s real. Archer was talking about some whiskey book your dad used to have. He said they called him the medicine man because they believed his whiskey was healing in some way.”
“What?” My forehead wrinkles as I stare at the twenty-something-year-old bartender who knows more about my father than I do. “Why wouldn’t Archer tell me that?”
She shrugs. “He just found out before he left for that bar expo meeting in California. I’m sure he was short on time and didn’t have a chance to say something yet.” Marin glances down at the calendar under the register. “He gets back tomorrow night. I could set something up for you guys.”
A scheduled meeting with my brother, that’s how busy we are now. “I think I’ll call him, thanks.”
She nods and goes back to helping the lady in full western gear that’s become a staple in the third seat to the left of the bar. Today she’s onto fruits and cream shots.
Outside of that though, the distillery is pretty quiet today. I wonder if that redneck and all his bullshit is really drawing our customers away. Done with the drama, I glance toward my little troublemaker to the side of the bar. “You want to go look at those chickens?”
She blinks up at me as though I’m crazy for mentioning any of this out loud.
Maybe I am, but I’m too damn burnt out to give a shit right now.
The last twenty-four hours have been the craziest of my life.
I might not be thinking straight, but I don’t care.
I want to take my girl to get her chickens. I want to see her smile.
“Yeah, I do.” She grins, hopping up from the bar.
“Chickens?” Benny sets his whiskey down and narrows his brows. “What the hell is going on with you two? You’ve been acting weird.”
I shrug. “What’s weird about chickens? Ivy’s been wanting to build a coop so I’m helping her get started.”
Apparently, this sounds believable because Benny tilts his head back and returns to his phone. “You are the expert on livestock. I have to head back to the city for a meeting this afternoon. Can I at least get a goodbye?”
“Oh shoot!” Ivy shuffles back across the bar and jumps into her brother’s arms. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get more time together. When are you coming back?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. A couple of weeks, maybe. Whenever I get a handle on everything again. I’ll text you, though. Be safe.” He glances up at me. “Thanks for looking out for her.”
I nod and smile, despite the pang of guilt settling into my stomach as I step out onto the street. Man, I’m a real piece of shit. Who betrays the only real friend they’ve ever had? Who lusts after another man’s sister for years like some fucking psycho?
Apparently, me. I’m that guy.
She became an obsession, and the more I learned about her, the more I needed her, the more other woman couldn’t live up to her. I’m not sure what that means about me, but I’m done denying whatever feeling is clawing its way out.
The second we’re alone again, I tuck her little hand into mine and walk proudly with her at my side, despite the stares we get from passersby.
There are a few women with judgmental looks, but for the most part, the stares are from men.
Men who I assume are jealous they’re not stripping off her leggings to finger her in the backroom somewhere.
Men, who wish a girl like Ivy would look at them. Men who pray at night for what I have.
Part of me is flattered by every stare. Another part is disgusted. These horny fucks with their lustful stares on such a young woman. My young woman. My girl.
Mine!
She tucks her hand into mine tighter as we stroll down Main Street in the mid-morning light.
I’ve imagined this a thousand times over, but I never thought it would actually happen.
I figured I’d spend a lifetime protecting her from a distance, wishing things were different.
I never thought we’d actually give in, or that she’d reciprocate the feelings I have for her.
Another asshole glances in our direction, this one her own age. He draws his gaze down to her perky little breasts before glancing toward me with a wince.
“What the fuck was that?” I spin back and blurt the words before I’ve thought them through.