Whiskey Kiss: A Small-town Romance

by V McFarlane

  I don’t get a chance to process his reaction, the space between us is taken away and then his mouth is on mine, his kiss urgent, passionate. I’m helpless to stop it. I don’t want to stop it. His tongue invades my mouth, his hands cradle my face and he inserts himself between my thighs, pressing our bodies closely together.

  “Shit, darlin’,” Taron groans into my mouth, “Those words? They’re everything.”

  I whimper as his kiss deepens, my desire for the man pushing away the thoughts and words I had prepared for. This was why loving a man like Taron was dangerous. They consume you. They smash into your life and make you rethink everything you thought you knew about love. He’s buried himself deep beneath the surface of my skin, so deep in fact I feel him everywhere.

  “We can talk,” he breathes roughly, “But I need you now. Here.”

  “Here?” I squeak. We can’t have sex in his office!

  He grins wickedly, “Here, darlin’, right here on my desk.” To emphasis his point he presses his impressive erection against my inner thigh, showing me how hard he is. For me.

  His eyes are dark with desire, his mouth swollen from the kiss but it’s the playfulness, the challenge he’s daring me to accept that has me tugging at the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

  I groan when I see the rugged ladder of his abs and revel in the way they flex and tighten as I run the tips of my fingernails down them.

  “You have to be quiet,” Taron leans in, mouth inches away from my face, “Can you do that?”

  Probably not, “Yes.”

  “Good,” He grins, reaching forward to remove my trousers leaving me in just my panties and blouse. He spreads his hands on my thighs, his thumbs circling, inches away from where I’m already soaked for him. My muscles twitch in response, in anticipation of the pleasure he’s about to give.

  “You are perfection, you know that?”

  I shake my head, my breathing coming quicker as he tickles his way up my thighs, fingers now at the edge of my panties.

  “You are. All of you.”

  He presses his fingers to my clit, above the fabric and I break.

  The risk of getting caught, the order to be quiet, all of it, it just adds to the frenzy he is building up inside me.

  Forty-three

  Taron

  I’ll forever remember her face as I finally enter her. I’ll always work to make sure I see that again, the pleasure, the ecstasy. Knowing I’m doing the same to her as she does to me is one hell of an aphrodisiac.

  I pulse my hips, pushing in, feeling her stretch as I slide in burying myself to the hilt. Her legs wrap around my waist, her head thrown back as she gasps.

  Anyone could walk in right now. I didn’t lock the door and that just makes this a whole lot more interesting. She feels so good wrapped around my cock, her walls clamping down on me with every thrust of my hips.

  She cries out loudly and I can’t help but chuckle, “Now that isn’t very quiet.”

  “Don’t stop,” She demands, grinding her hips.

  Holy shit that’s erotic.

  I reach forward and place my hand over her mouth and then really go to work, pounding my cock into her again and again, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room.

  My orgasm is building at the base of my spine and I’m not going to last much longer. She needs to come. I angle my hips, making sure I’m rubbing up against her clit as I hit that sweet spot deep inside.

  She moans behind my hand, her breath warming my skin as the muscles grip me like a vice, sucking and squeezing my release from me.

  “Shit,” I growl, pounding harder as the release shoots through me, all my muscles stiffening.

  Sex has never been this good with anyone.

  I hold her close as we come down from the high and once our breathing has steadied, I help her clean up and dress her. She looks at me with heavy lidded eyes, that mouth of hers parted slightly and well…she looks well fucked.

  I grin.

  She looks like mine.

  I suddenly remember we actually have to talk so I step back and give her the floor, not even sorry I completely hijacked the situation.

  “My brain isn’t working right now,” she chuckles, rubbing her eyes, “You do things!”

  “How about coffee?” I ask.

  She smiles and nods, waiting in the office whilst I go out to make coffee. I’m just heading back in when Penny comes steaming from the room, her eyes wide with panic, gripping her phone to her ear.

  “I’m on my way!” She yells, almost barrelling right into me.

  I step out the way to save from spilling the coffee, my own panic now pulling on my brows.

  “What is it?” I demand.

  “Uh,” she digs into her purse, searching for keys, “Something happened at school. Ava’s locked herself away and is crying, no one can get her to come out.”

  “Shit,” I pull my own keys from my pocket, abandoning the coffees on the side, “I’ll drive.”

  “Thank you.”

  We both rush from the distillery, heading straight for the truck. I’m glad there’s no cops on the road as we hightail it towards the school. What the hell could have happened for a little girl to lock herself away?

  “Did they say what happened?”

  Penny shakes her head, her thumb nail firmly planted between her teeth. I reach over and squeeze her thigh, “It’s going to be fine.”

  I park the truck outside the school gates, and I haven’t even turned the engine off before Penny’s out the car and rushing into the reception area of the school. I jog to catch up, catching the door before it closes.

  “Where is she?” She demands at the desk. The little receptionists eyes widen.

  “Oh, Miss Hart,” She stands, “Right this way.”

  I follow closely behind until we stop at the girl’s bathroom and Penny doesn’t wait a second before pushing her way through. The receptionist holds the door open, but I don’t enter, I just watch from the outside. Ava’s teacher is in there.

  “Ava baby,” Penny coos on the other side of a locked stall door, “It’s mommy. You want to let me in?”

  “I don’t want to come out,” Ava cries, her little voice thick with emotion. A protective surge has my hands balling into fists. Who the fuck hurt that little girl?

  “That’s okay, just let me in,” Penny tells Ava, “Please baby. Let me in.”

  The sound of the lock turning echoes around the small bathroom and then Penny’s stepping in, shutting the door behind her and turning the lock again.

  An audible gasp comes in the next second, “What happened? Who did this?”

  I grit my teeth.

  “He pulled my hair,” Ava cries, “He told me I was dirty and that he doesn’t want to be my friend. He said his mommy told him he wasn’t allowed to play with me no more.”

  “Oh baby, who did?” Penny asks.

  “Ethan.”

  Carla!

  “He was so mean, mommy. Why was he mean?”

  They stay in the stall for what feels like forever, Penny talking soothingly to her daughter. I hear the strain in her voice, the emotions she’s holding back so as to appear strong for her daughter. I want to wrap them both up. Protect them so no one can ever hurt either of them again.

  Eventually the two come out, Ava in Penny’s arms, her head tucked into her neck.

  “What are you doing about this?” I demand when Penny comes up next to me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “Ethan has been sent to the principal’s office, his mother is here also. We will resolve this, this school has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying.” Ava’s teacher tells me.

  “Take her,” Penny growls at me, gesturing for me to take Ava from her arms. With a frown, I do as she asks, curling my arms around the girl who instantly clings to me. Her face is wet with tears, cheeks red and one half of her hair is down, the other half still in the pigtail she went to school with.

  Penny storms
down the corridor.

  “Miss Hart, you can’t go in there!”

  “Watch me!” She hisses before barging through the door to the principal’s office, a tiny ball of fury.

  I don’t let her go alone.

  “You shouldn’t be in here!” The principal splutters, a balding man in his late fifties I would guess.

  “You,” Penny spits at Carla, “How dare you!”

  Ethan sits in the corner of the room, his head bowed, legs swinging back and forth as he plays with his hands in his lap. I want to be mad at the kid, but this isn’t his fault, despite what he did. This is his mother’s fault for whispering venom into his ear.

  “I told you to tell your daughter to stay away from my son, you didn’t listen.” Carla growls, standing to confront Penny.

  “Both of you need to calm down,” The principal says, “We can resolve this.”

  “You are a despicable human being,” Penny shouts, “They are children! Children! Hate me all you want but don’t you dare insult my daughter. She is a child.”

  “Well as it turns out, I was right to tell my son to stay away from Ava, what with her mother having a criminal background and all.”

  Wait. What?

  Carla continues, turning to the principal, “Is this the type of people you let into this school? Criminals?”

  The principal’s eyes narrow, “We do not discriminate based on people’s circumstances or history.”

  “Well I do not want my son around a criminal.”

  “I’m not a criminal!” Penny glowers, her hands balled into fists. “Nothing I have ever done would suggest otherwise.”

  “So, all those stories I read about you were false? You may not have been charged but you are just like him. A criminal. A waste of space. No wonder you left your old town, people finally saw who you really were. What I’ve seen all along,” Carla spits, “A worthless, waste of space nobody. Thought you’d get your claws in Taron now? Well just ask him if he wants to be involved with someone like you!”

  Penny turns to me, but I have no idea what to say, what to do. Ava is clinging to me, having heard everything that was just said, and her little body is shaking as her tears continue to fall.

  Is this why Penny hid her past from me? Because she was involved in something illegal? What did she do?

  “Let’s take Ava home,” I tell Penny through gritted teeth.

  Maybe I’ve been wrong about her this whole time.

  Maybe she’s not who I thought she was.

  Forty-four

  Penny

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I knew, the moment I turned to Taron in that room, still cradling my daughter in his strong arms that his thoughts about me had changed. It was in the way his eyes closed off, the muscles in his jaw grew tight.

  All the anger I had towards Carla just went away, replaced by panic and sadness. I couldn’t even be mad at the smug smile on her face because she had won a game I didn’t realise I was a part of.

  Whatever obsession she has with Taron had her digging into my past. I should have known it would happen. I did know it would happen. That woman is spiteful. But she has it all wrong. Just like all of the other people in my old town. She’s judged me based on someone else’s actions and now Taron will too.

  I sit in silence in the passenger seat whilst Ava is in the back. Her tears have finally stopped but she looks too sad for a six-year-old. Her little face, the tear tracks on her cheeks, it’s her old school all over again. The bullying and teasing and her confusion when she’s innocent. I’ll have to move again. For her sake.

  Carla won’t just stop at telling Taron, she’ll spread it around the town. The other parents will hate me like she does, and the kids will hurt Ava for it.

  Taron’s hands are tightly gripping the steering wheel, the skin over the knuckles white. At least he didn’t abandon us at the school, but we don’t turn off to my house, no we continue down until he’s pulling into the ranch’s driveway.

  “Taron,” I try.

  “Not here.” Is all he says back, his tone cold, flat.

  He needs to let me explain. Will he? Or will this be it?

  Moving from my last town was easy, I only had Grace and whilst it was hard to leave her, it wasn’t soul destroying. Now though, I have Taron and even Ripley, leaving won’t be that easy.

  He can hate me.

  But I’ll never hate him.

  He says nothing as he gets out the truck and unstraps Ava, and still nothing as he carries her from the car to the house and settles her on the stool in the kitchen. I follow but no words even try to come from my lips.

  “You want a hot cocoa?” He asks her, his tone gentle, “I make the best.”

  Her eyes dart to me for approval and I nod.

  “Yes please.”

  “Coming right up!” Taron chirps. His tone is light with her, but his body is stiff, shoulders too high and spine straight.

  I watch him as he warms some milk on the stove and then stirs in the powder and once that is done, he grabs a bottle of cream from the fridge and a bag of marshmallows.

  “I get cream?” Ava smiles.

  “Well yeah,” Taron says, “It isn’t a famous Cain Cocoa without cream.”

  He squirts it onto the steamy liquid in a swirl and then grabs a handful of tiny marshmallows to sprinkle all over the top.

  “How about this?” he asks, picking the cup up, “You have this and go watch cartoons? Will that make you feel better?”

  She nods.

  “Don’t listen to that kid, Ava,” Taron says seriously, “There is nothing wrong with you, okay?”

  She averts her eyes.

  “I mean it, sweetheart,” Taron presses.

  “Okay.”

  I have no idea what to do so I wait in the kitchen, my nerves a mess whilst Taron settles Ava in the family room and then comes back to me. He crosses the kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the room with the kitchen island between us. He leans back against the counter, crosses his arms, and then just stares at me, his head cocked as his eyes move from my face and then all the way down my body.

  “So, who are you?” He finally asks.

  I swallow, “The same person I was this morning.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, Taron, I’m not a criminal.”

  “Is that because you didn’t get caught?”

  I grit my teeth, “Fuck you. I’ve been here. I’ve done this. I’m not doing it again.” I’m shocked at my outburst.

  His eyes widen in surprise. “You owe me an explanation, Penny.”

  In this moment, two things become clear to me.

  Number one, there’s nothing wrong with me. There’s everything wrong with everyone else.

  Number two, I owe no one anything. My past is my past. I don’t owe to anyone, not even Taron, to explain the situation I found myself in.

  If people want to judge that then that is their problem.

  “I do not owe you anything,” I tell him, “I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know what happened that had me running away. But you know what, I don’t think you deserve to know. You made me trust you and yet here you are, judging me for something someone else has said.”

  “Then tell me,” He presses, “You don’t want me to judge you based on something someone has said? You haven’t told me anything to make me believe otherwise.”

  “When you look at me, what do you see?”

  His head snaps back in shock of my question but he answers, much to my surprise, “A mother. A great one. A woman trying her best. A lover. A kind heart. A good soul.”

  “So why is that different now you know a snippet of my history? An inaccurate snippet but a snippet nonetheless.”

  “It hasn’t.”

  “But it has,” I correct, “Because you’re over there and I’m over here and there’s this big gap between us that you put there. Not me. Yes, I wasn’t forthcoming with what happened, can you blame me?”

  He swallows
.

  “I will tell you what happened Taron, not because you are owed it but because you need to see how wrong you are.”

  He inhales and exhales loudly. I see his fingers twitching, the muscles in his neck straining like he’s trying to stop himself from moving.