Whiskey Kiss: A Small-town Romance

by V McFarlane

  I cup her through her dress, feeling the heat of her sex against my hand. I apply a small amount of pressure and her breathing hitches as a moan escapes her mouth. I watch her face, see the pleasure in the way her lips part and brows draw together. I press a kiss to the dip beneath her ear, flicking my tongue out to taste her.

  “I want to drop to my knees and spread your thighs and taste you on my tongue.”

  I move my hand between her legs, still above the fabric of her dress and I’m rewarded by her grinding against my palm, pushing herself against me harder.

  “And once you come in my mouth,” I growl, running my tongue down her neck to then graze my teeth along her collar bone, “I’m going to lay you down on my bed and worship your body until you come on my fingers and my cock.”

  I slowly move her hand to the bulge straining against my Levi’s. Her fingers clasp around the outline and a harsh exhale escapes my lips.

  “Taron,” she hisses on a moan, “shit.”

  Holy fuck this was hot.

  My cock strains against the fly of my jeans, against her palm, the blood pulsing angrily.

  She was coming undone under my hand and I hadn’t even really touched her. I could only imagine how responsive she could be if I just got her in my bedroom, under me, on me.

  “Tell me what you need, darlin’,” I growl, “Tell me, Penny.”

  “You, Taron,” she moans, “I need you. Touch me.”

  I take my hand from her and slip it under the hem of her dress, tickling along the warm skin of her thigh until I find the edge of her panties. I can feel the heat radiating off her in waves and I already know she’s going to be wet for me.

  She gently takes a step back until she’s leaning against the counter, her hands gripping the top until the knuckles turn white from the pressure she’s admitting.

  I lean in and lock my lips to hers and then slip my fingers beneath her panties, finding her wet heat and teasing her clit.

  Her tongue dances with mine and she hums as I press through her folds, circling and caressing each sweet spot enough to make her grind against me for more.

  I tease her entrance with one finger, pushing only an inch or so inside and I can already feel her muscles begin to clench, wanting more. I push in further and then add a second finger, curling my fingers as I find that sensitive spot inside. I press my thumb to her nub and circle, continuing to pulse steadily until her breathing becomes so fast and her body so rigid it can only mean she’s on the verge of a release.

  “You want to come?” I ask against her mouth, dragging her bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Yes,” she begs, “Please.”

  If you had asked me this morning what I would be doing this evening, this would never have crossed my mind. It was only yesterday that we had set boundaries, or rather, Penny had set boundaries and here we were, knocking them all down.

  I slam my mouth against hers, increasing the pace inside and out, mimicking the movement of my fingers with my tongue.

  “Yes,” she breathes, “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “Come for me,” I demand, “Now.”

  “Taron,” she cries out and I feel her clamp down around my fingers, her muscles pulsing as her climax rips through her body.

  When her muscles stop twitching, I finally remove my fingers, and she opens her eyes. The green is vibrant, like a leaf with the sun shining through.

  “Don’t say you regret it,” I beg.

  She cocks her head to the side and then reaches up to cup the side of my face, “Wow.” She breathes.

  I sag with relief, “You’re so beautiful.”

  She leans forward, her eyes falling closed again.

  “What are you doing?” a little, girlish voice says from behind me.

  We jump apart like someone just threw a stick of dynamite, and I spin to find Ripley standing with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side.

  Oh shit.

  Just exactly how much did she see?

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Ripley,” Penny says, still breathless, “Uh we were just–”

  “Penny had something in her eye,” I interrupt, “I was just helping her get it out.”

  “Oh,” Ripley pouts her lips, “Did you get it?”

  “Did I get what?” I ask.

  “The thing,” Ripley frowns, showing far too much intelligence for a six-year-old, “in her eye.”

  “Yes,” Penny exclaims, “All good now.”

  “Good, when’s dinner ready?” She asks, “We’re hungry.”

  “Now,” she says, “Can you get Ava?”

  “Sure,” she smiles and skips back to fetch Ava.

  I burst out laughing, unable to stop myself.

  Penny swats my arm, “It’s not funny!”

  “It’s a little funny,” I chuckle, lifting my hand to take my fingers into my mouth.

  Her eyes darken as she watches me suck my fingers clean and sigh, “Damn,” I whisper, pressing a quick kiss on her mouth, “If that’s how sweet you taste, can I have you for dessert?”

  Twenty-two

  Penny

  I feel completely satiated.

  When have I ever had release like that?

  I can still feel his skilled fingers working me like he knew exactly all the right spots to press and tease.

  I have no idea what happened.

  I was so sure I’d be able to resist him. So adamant that despite the effect he had on me I could control myself and keep it strictly professional.

  All it took was one skilled touch and a few dirty words and I was putty in his hands. My body responded like his words were my music, answering in ways I didn’t think possible.

  We sit at the dining table, opposite each other and I don’t miss the glances he keeps throwing my way or the way his feet bump mine beneath the table. With each heated look and each bump, my body only reacts again and again, reminding me just how good he is with his fingers, his mouth.

  My nipples have been rock hard since the kitchen because whilst he satisfied me and I had had the best climax I think, ever, I can’t help but think up just what he could do if I could have all of him.

  Ripley keeps throwing me curious glances, her head cocked like she’s trying to peer inside my head. It’s unnerving.

  The shit that happened with Carla. Long forgotten. Carla who?

  “Can we have dessert?” Ava asks once she’s finished her plate.

  “Sure, baby,” I tell her, “I bought cupcakes earlier, they’re in the pantry.”

  “Yay!” She squeals, jumping down from the table, carrying her plate into the kitchen and placing it on the side.

  “Are you going to marry my dad?” Ripley suddenly asks.

  Taron chokes on the sip of water he had been drinking and then hides his reaction behind a napkin.

  “Uh,” my voice shakes, “Why would you think that?”

  “Are you in love?”

  Taron is shaking his head, his face a mask of confusion, “Why would you think that?”

  She sighs, “Well you said you were getting something out her eye but it looked like you were kissing. And people only kiss when they love each other.”

  “No,” I say, “People kiss all the time. Sometimes it’s to say hello, sometimes it’s because they really, really like each other.”

  “And you really, really like my dad?”

  Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here. I pull on the neckline of my dress even though that’s definitely not the reason my skin has heated to a thousand degrees.

  “Sweetheart,” Taron places his napkin on the table, “Daddy and Penny are just really good friends.”

  “But you kissed?”

  “Who kissed?” Ava waddles into the dining room, licking the frosting off her cupcake.

  Oh God.

  I press the heels of my hands to my eyes.

  “Your mom and my dad.”

  Ava scrunches up her nose, “Ew.”

  Taron laughs, “Ava’s mommy a
nd I just really like each other, okay?”

  “Well I mean, yeah,” Ripley shrugs and then her face brightens, “if you get married doesn’t that mean we will be sisters?!” She gestures to Ava.

  Oh boy…

  “Technically yes,” I throw Taron a what the hell are you doing look. He definitely shouldn’t be encouraging this! “But I think you might be getting ahead of yourself.”

  “Nah,” she shakes her head, “You’re definitely getting married.”

  I choke this time, “Why would you think that?”

  “Because” she deadpans, “You’re the queen. Like we played earlier, and daddy is the king. The king and the queen always get married.”

  “That’s true, mommy,” Ava skips over and climbs up onto my lap, “Kings and queens are always married. Forever and ever.”

  “Oh honey,” I wipe a bit of frosting from her chin, “I don’t think this is how it works.”

  “Never say never, right?” Taron grins at me.

  _

  “You don’t have to do that,” Taron steps into the kitchen, “I’ll do it after you head home.”

  He’s referring to me rinsing plates and placing them in the dishwasher.

  “You pay me to do this,” I remind him.

  “No, I pay you to watch Ripley and maybe do a few errands for me, not clean my house.”

  I shrug, “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” But talk of money reminds me of the advance we had talked about. “About the advance,” I turn my attention back to rinsing off a plate, “Is it still okay?”

  Silence greets me from behind and for a minute I think he may have left the room but when I turn, he’s still there, just watching me.

  “Taron?”

  “Sorry, yes, it’s fine. How much did you need?”

  I think of the bills that are already a week overdue. “Five sixty.”

  He nods, “No problem.”

  With that weight lifted I finish loading the dishwasher and pick up a towel to dry my hands, turning to look at Taron whilst leaning back against the counter.

  “Where’re the girls?” I ask, glancing at the clock. It’s almost eight and I really need to get Ava back for bed.

  “Playing,” Taron smirks, stepping closer to me.

  My heart accelerates a hundred notches and all the muscles south of my waist clench with anticipation. I’ve never had a man extract this kind of feeling.

  I push off the counter and meet him halfway. My head is telling me to back off. Back out. Run. No good will come from this.

  My heart? Well that thing is screaming for this guy.

  You can guess which one is winning.

  His hand comes up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips brushing along my cheekbone. He trails a single finger down the side of my face, lining my jaw until it comes to a stop beneath my chin and he lifts, tilting my face towards his as he descends.

  A growl of appreciation rumbles up his throat and then his tongue is pushing into my mouth. When he finally comes away, he doesn’t go far, just rests his forehead to mine, his eyes squeezed shut.

  “I’d thought maybe everything between me getting home and now may have been some wild dream,” he whispers, breath tickling my face, “That what happened in the kitchen was a figment of my imagination but you just let me kiss you.”

  I chuckle lightly, “I did.”

  “I want to do it again,” he admits. “And again. And again.”

  His admission hits me off guard and butterflies erupt in my stomach. What does he mean by that?

  “Then do it,” I tell him, “Kiss me, Taron.”

  He moans before bringing both hands up to cup my face gently but this kiss, it’s not urgent or heated, it’s passionate and vulnerable. It’s a kiss that tells me he wants me, not just for now, but for later too. He throws his all into the dance of our mouths and I can’t help but give it back.

  But I can never truly give him all of me, can I? Not really.

  My past, it’s too complicated.

  What if he doesn’t understand?

  Worse, what if he rejects me for who I was involved with? What if he believes the rumours and the gossip? Sure, he’ll be hearing my side with no outside involvement but there will be scepticism and doubt.

  “What is it?” Taron asks as he breaks from the kiss. He gently draws circles on my cheeks with his thumbs, patiently waiting for an answer.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  This was why I didn’t want to get involved. Partly because being with him would be to offer myself to the people of the town, people like Carla, and partly because I can’t give him me. Not all of it.

  I laugh inwardly at myself, perhaps I’m just getting ahead of myself. This wasn’t anything.

  We weren’t together. People shared kisses all the time.

  But people don’t share what he did to you all the time, a little voice reminds me.

  At the memory my thighs slam together, the heat for him returning. No, people didn’t share that all the time and I had a feeling Taron didn’t do what he did to me all the time.

  Those words, the care, the attention, it was zoned in and focused, like he would give it all just to make sure I was happy, satisfied, filled.

  The thoughts make me blush, my cheeks warming beneath his fingers.

  “You do blush real pretty, darlin’” he mumbles, pressing kisses along my cheeks, “So pink,” that bourbon smooth voice turns husky, “I’d like to see just how far that blush goes.”

  “Keep talking like that,” I warn, “And you’re about to find out.”

  “Don’t tease me, darlin’,” he growls, “Because if a little bit of dirty talk is going to open you up, then just call me filthy.”

  _

  “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay?” I don’t miss the suggestion, the low, huskiness to his voice or his very obvious want for me straining at the zipper of his jeans.

  We’d gotten carried away in the kitchen, again, to the point where I had been pinned to the kitchen counter and he was grinding himself against me nearly to the point of another orgasm.

  I look to Ava, tucked in in the back seat, sound asleep and I can’t help but feel a little guilty. This was going to be a huge change for her, being here and at the house all the time. I just hope the effect won’t spill over academically.

  “If I could,” I say, “I would.”

  He follows my eyes to the little girl, her blonde hair falling over her face, “I understand.”

  I smile and run my fingers through the scruff at his jaw, “see you tomorrow.”

  His eyes dart to the girl, double checking she is asleep and then he leans in and kisses me, “see you tomorrow.”

  He takes a step back to watch me climb into the car and then I pull away, waiting as the same black wrangler from this morning drives down the long narrow driveway towards me.

  I recognise Rhett who smiles and gives me a wave which I return and then I head home, feeling warm and happy inside.

  If only it lasted…

  Twenty-three

  Taron

  “Did I just see what I thought I just saw?” Rhett immediately says as he jumps from the jeep and strides towards me, closing the space between us quickly.

  I look at my best friend and smirk. It’s answer enough for him.

  “You fucking screwed her, didn’t you!? How long has she been employed, a day!?” Why does he sound so disappointed?

  “I didn’t screw her,” I snap, defensively.

  I just touched her, a lot, and kissed her, and felt her muscles contract. The thoughts send heat through me and I quickly squash them down. I can think about them when I do not have company.

  “Whiskey,” Rhett demands, “We talk over whiskey.”