Marin
“Are you sure we got everything you need?” Davis loads the last three bags into the back seat of his truck, pausing for a moment, his arms braced the sides of the open door.
He looks so sexy. I clench my thighs together as I nod.
“Yes, four kinds of shampoo and matching conditioner, four toothbrushes, different brands, so I can see which one I like better, cinnamon toothpaste, face wash, perfume, moisturizer, enough make up for a runway show…what else?”
He nods, closes the door, then slips in the front seat pushing the ignition button.
“Well, I learned girls have a strong preference for their lady products but I gotta say, you’re not going to need those things for long. But, you will need clothes. Let’s make one more quick stop, there’s a shop up ahead. You pick out whatever you want.”
I shiver, remembering his warm spend deep inside me and even now, it’s seeping from my opening, reminding me that I’ve not only lost my virginity to this burly mountain man, I’ve been full throttle lost in this breeding fantasy we have going.
But, at this rate, the way he’s filling me up, it won’t be fantasy for long.
A knot curls in my belly. Is it shame? Maybe.
I’ve been programmed since birth to think that sex outside of marriage makes you the worst sort of woman.
I remember my Grandfather leading me into an empty room after church one Sunday when I was twelve.
I thought I was dying. My panties were full of blood and I was sure it was my sin that was killing me.
He must have found them, because he put me in that room with Old Mrs. Kowsky who was at least eighty years old but she smelled like she was a hundred and ten. She spent the next hour giving me the strangest version of what for lack of a better way to explain it was the birds and the bees talk.
My blood was my shame. A reminder that women are the temptation. What a way to scar a girl. More shame, cool.
What’s strange though, is when Davis called me those names during our sexy times?
I loved it. I wanted more. I want to be his dirty plaything. The one that tempts him and leads him into damnation.
But, from the way he’s looking at me right now, he’s going willingly. And so am I.
After a whirlwind shopping spree at VanClamps farm store, the back of the truck is stuffed with bags and boxes. Davis let me run wild and I picked out lots of button up flannel, funny t-shirts, two cowboy hats, Levi’s and two pair of cowboy boots.
And none of it was red.
When the total came to over a thousand dollars, I started to put things back, but he threw his arm around me, holding me next to him in my red dress and heels, nodding for the clerk to pack it up as he settled the bill.
He pulls into traffic on the main street in Thompson Ridge, the town next to Sherman, and I wonder if anyone will recognize me. I curl my body away from the door as Davis slides his hand behind my neck and gives me a squeeze.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yes, just been a heck of a couple days.”
“I know. What can I do to help?” He says it in hardly more than a grunt but there’s a sweetness in every word that makes me swoon.
I shrug on a marginal smile as he darts his hazel eyes to me, then back to the road.
“You look so fucking beautiful I might just pull into the Holiday Inn and demolish that little hot pink cock sleeve of yours twenty different ways. Because my dick is perma-hard with you around, baby. That dress…” He cocks an eyebrow on a playful mmm-mmm-mmm sound.
“So, tell me about this red thing. Everything you had with you to wear was red. You said that’s the only color you wear? You love red?”
“I hate red.” I take a breath as he rubs the muscles on my neck with one hand and palms the wheel around a turn with the other.
“My family is a little strange. My mama had me out of wedlock and they have some strange ideas. I’m sort of…
you know, the scarlet letter? Only, I’ve only worn red my whole life because, spawn of sin and all. ”
“Epic bullshit.” His jaw sets and a vein in his temple stands out. “When we get home, you’re ordering every fucking piece of clothing you want from wherever you want but with one exception.”
“A budget?” I giggle and he shakes his head.
“No fucking budget and no fucking red.”
I smile, my stomach growling again, but it’s not just because I’m looking forward to a yummy dinner. What’s really yum, is him. Sitting next to me. In a suit. And a tie. Mountain Marin has landed herself the hottest mountain man in North Carolina.
It’s so easy being around him. I feel so comfortable being me.
During our walk to the house, he asked me more about myself and I kept it vague.
Even my name. Marin Octavia I told him. I left off the Baron because most people in this part of North Carolina know of him.
Owning a four-generation tobacco farm is a pretty big deal down here. “What happened to Stevie, can I ask?”
Davis stiffens and shakes his head. “You can ask anything anytime, remember?” he growls. “But, let’s leave that for another day. It’s a hard tell.”
“Of course,” I say. “Sorry.”
“Baby, stop apologizing. You never need to apologize to me. Never.” He slows the truck at a light, turning to look down at my feet then trailing his gaze to my face, leaving a flurry of gooseflesh behind.
“But I look after him. Day to day and his finances. Have since he got hurt.” The muscle in his jaw flexes and he rolls his head around, cracking his neck. “Seems like the least I can do.”
I rub my lips together, a new heaviness in the cab of the truck. Grandpa always said curiosity would kill the cat, and now here I am, being nosy as usual. I realize he hasn’t asked me much, though I wouldn’t mind a bit if he did. “Just so you know, you can ask me anything too.”
He darts his eyes back at me without turning his head as the light turns green and he accelerates. “You come from people that don’t understand you, don’t appreciate you. And worse, make you feel bad for being who you are. That’s about right?”
Nailed it! “Yeah. And about ten servings of start praying for your salvation before the Rapture, young lady!”
He runs his hand from my neck down my shoulder, tracing his knuckles down my arm until his rough, calloused fingers twine between mine, making my hand look like a child’s.
“I’m in no rush, baby girl. I know what I want.
The rest is just gravy. But, you hear this, I’ll listen to every story you want to tell me.
Every thought and memory and dream and rant and joke.
No matter how insignificant or silly you think it is, to me? It’s scripture.”
Something about the way he talks turns me into a happy, blubbering mess. I don’t even know what to say to that except that I want nothing more than to be his gravy and his scripture. I smooth my skirt over my thighs. “Are you sure Mastriano’s is okay? It’s so…” I lower my voice. “Expensive.”
Davis laughs, shaking his head as the restaurant comes into view ahead.
“Money isn’t a problem, baby girl. You hear me?
When we get there, you order whatever you want.
No fucking around with chicken breasts and a side salad, alright?
We’re talking lobster. Filet mignon. Appetizers, too. All of them. Only the best for you.”
As he slows, approaching the restaurant, he moves his hand from mine, down onto my thigh now.
My body reacts with a shiver and a clutch in my lower level.
He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but he slides his fingers under the side slit, and up, up, up…
pushing my legs apart as he drives his hand toward my pussy.
With one finger he takes my breath away as he brushes the outside of my panties, then hooks a thick finger into the elastic over my hip. “Those from last night?”
I swallow hard. “Yes. I didn’t have another pair. I do now, with the shopping but before, this was it. I’ve been busy hand washing them until the lace is starting to tatter.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth before murmuring, “Take them off.”
Now wait just a moment, buster. “But…” I stammer.
He gives me a side eye with a cocky grin. “Mine. Remember? Take them off.”
I squirm in my seat as the valet parking area looms ahead. “But I’m so wet, Davis. It’s going to leave a spot on my dress.”
He growls in response. “Exactly.” He lifts his hand, gesturing to me to get on with it. “Now, Little Red. Right now.”
Dang, my heart knocks against my chest. I kick off my heels and do as he says, wriggling out of my already wet panties. I ball them up and place them in his waiting hand.
With the sexiest and cockiest laugh, he places my panties in his suit pocket and signals for the valet to come over.
“I better warn you, baby girl…” he begins.
I reach for him, tucking in the red lace peeking out of his pocket. “Warn me about what?”
“I haven’t been out like this in a while,” he murmurs, his voice low and dark.
I’m not sure what that means or why he’s saying it with so much concern. “How long?” I ask.
He grumble-coughs as he pulls into a valet drop-off area in front of the restaurant. “A while. Outside of work, I don’t get out much. Hope I’ll know how to behave.”