Hot Buttered Rum: Standalone Romance (Silk Stocking Inn Book 4)

by Tess Oliver

  I pulled the coat closed, suddenly feeling more than vulnerable in the wide open. “A new ending just flashed through my head, a catastrophic one where we’re back here in the heat of passion, and a deranged squirrel darts out from the trees, runs across Riley’s back and sends the horse galloping through the trees with us bouncing behind.”

  “I’d be worried about that too if I didn’t know Riley well, but I do. And that horse would rather stand still on hot coals than move his feet. Deranged squirrel or not, he’s solid where he stands.” Jackson scooted to the side and leaned against the corner of the seat, with one long leg curled up on the seat and the other stretched out in front. Without thinking, my gaze went right to his crotch. He grinned as he caught where my eyes had landed. I quickly blamed it on the wine . . . and curiosity. In fact, if I was being totally honest with myself it was about ninety percent curiosity. I wondered if it was as extraordinary as the rest of the man.

  I’d just ridden across a field with my sexy lingerie and half-clad body exposed to the world, but suddenly, a bout of shyness overcame me. I pulled the coat panels shut tightly.

  Jackson rested his arm casually up on the back edge of the carriage. “The way I see it, you can lose that coat now, while it’s still dark outside, or we can sit here until daylight. But I’ve got to warn you, my patience ain’t great when I see something I really want. And you, my half naked angel, are something I want bad.” He rested back to let me know, in no uncertain terms, that he was waiting.

  I licked the tip of my finger and put it in the air as if to check the wind direction. “It’s a little cold suddenly. Must be a breeze coming down off that hillside.”

  “I’ll keep you plenty warm.” His arm was still draped casually along the back of the carriage as if he had no intention of heading back up to the driver’s bench any time soon.

  “All right.” I sat up with a long, slow breath. I pushed the coat off my shoulders, and it slid down my arms. I pulled my hands free from the oversized sleeves.

  Before I could curl my arms around myself, Jackson sat forward and took hold of my hands. He lifted them to direct me to kneel up on the seat. It took some effort with him holding my hands, but I managed to balance myself up on the leather seat cushion. A shiver went through me, a result of the cool night air and the heated green gaze that was now surveying every inch of me.

  “Well?” I asked, sounding slightly shaky. “Do I fit the part?”

  He released my hands and scooted closer. I rested my hand on the back edge of the seat and wrapped my other arm around him as he reached up and parted the panels of my nightie. His mouth dragged hot kisses along my stomach. While one hand wrapped firmly around my bottom, the other teased my nipples.

  I found it hard to balance. The delirium produced by the wine had dissipated and been replaced by an entirely new state of intoxication. Jackson’s mouth left a trail of blazing heat along my skin as he made a slow, erotic path to the small triangle of silk covering my pussy. It took no more than a long lick of his tongue to push the fabric aside, leaving no barrier between the wet, slick folds of my pussy and his mouth.

  “Lean back, baby, I need to taste more of you,” he drawled.

  I held him for support, every muscle in my body trembling with anticipation as I sat back down on the seat.

  “Relax. Mine for the weekend, remember?” His eyes were like green gemstones, richer in color from desire, a desire for me. That thought made every inch of my skin erupt with gooseflesh. I couldn’t remember ever wanting someone this badly.

  The unusual location and striking fact that we were in the back of a horse drawn carriage, no longer mattered. I wanted Jackson to finish what he’d started. I needed his mouth, his cock. I needed all of him, or I would fall apart from wanting him.

  I rested back against the side of the seat. Jackson lifted my feet up onto the smooth leather cushion. “Reach back, baby. Reach back and take hold of the seat.”

  He’d switched to calling me baby. Nate had done it more than once, and I’d chided him for it. It had made me bristle. But coming from Jackson, in the heat of passion, it sounded like the best form of dirty talk I’d ever heard. Right then and there, in the open carriage, I wanted to be his, to be his baby to do with as he pleased.

  As I lifted my arms, the silky shift inched up, exposing me from the belly button down. The only thing between my pussy and his hungry stare was a tiny triangle of silk. I let my arms rest on the back of the seat above my head, but as he pushed open my thighs wide enough to expose me completely, I clutched the edge of the seat to hold myself together.

  He watched my face, his long black lashes fluttering over his green eyes as he pulled the silk thong aside. He slid his finger through the creamy wetness that was pooling between the folds of my pussy.

  I pulled in a shuddering breath and tightened my hold on the top edge of the seat.

  He dropped down to his stomach and brought his head between my thighs. His warm breath tickled my pussy and inner thighs. “Fucking beautiful,” he groaned as he moved his mouth so close to my pussy, I could feel the lightest scrape of his beard stubble.

  I nearly startled off the seat as he used his fingers to spread me open wider. A low, deep chuckle rumbled between my thighs. “Relax, baby. It’ll be that much more fun.”

  I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I felt near to naked and completely exposed. But Jackson made me comfortable. I wanted him there between my thighs. I needed him there. His tongue started slowly, with a teasing flick across my clit, a small intimate touch that made me tighten my grip even more.

  His big hand cupped beneath my ass as he lifted me to his hungry mouth. His tongue coaxed me to arch my back so that my pussy would be tighter against his mouth. He growled in approval against my tender flesh. One hand held me securely in place as the other teased my throbbing clit to a frenzy. And all the while, his tongue made love to my pussy as if I was producing a sweet nectar for him to taste.

  I scooted my feet closer to my bottom, wanting to move even higher and harder against his mouth. Every inch of me trembled with desire. I needed to finish this, to come in a glorious, mind blowing orgasm or the disappointment would be devastating.

  I released my hold on the seat and curled my fingers in his thick dark hair, holding him against me. “Yes, Jackson, please.” My tender plea floated up and disappeared in the field of stars above.

  One final stroke of his finger over my clit and my thighs clamped shut as my pussy convulsed in hot waves around his tongue. I rocked against him, nearly close to tears with the sheer intensity of it all.

  Jackson rose up over me. He reached down with one hand and had his pants open and pushed down to reveal his cock, a massive erection that took away the breath I’d been trying to catch.

  Jackson gazed down at me with an expression that was half questioning and half lust.

  “Yes.” I knew what he wanted to hear. “Yes, Jackson. I want this.”

  He took hold of my legs and scooted me down farther on the seat. He leaned down over me. The heat radiating from his body warmed me in the cool night air. He lowered his mouth to mine and with the same hand that had held me steady against his mouth, he lifted my pussy to meet him. His self-control now shattered, he pushed into me hard and fast, producing that sweet pussy ache that came after an orgasm.

  I’d never climaxed twice in a row, but something about this man made me think it wasn’t impossible.

  And it seemed he expected it. He rose up on his strong arms and thrust into me, lifting his hips each time so that his cock penetrated the deepest, most untouched place inside of me. With each movement, the friction against my still aching clit sent tingling sensations through me.

  “Hold me tight with your pussy, baby,” he said in a low, raspy voice. “I want to feel you holding my cock as I slide into you.”

  I conc
entrated on the muscles between my legs and my pussy as I contracted them, squeezing them around his erection as he dove deep inside of me, seemingly knowing my most intimate places even more than me.

  His long lashes drifted shut. “That’s it, Becca. I can feel you as if you’re stroking me with your tight pussy. So fucking beautiful.”

  I reached for the edge of the seat, something to hold onto, something to keep me from floating right up into the night sky. I held him securely between my legs, feeling each hot inch of him as he rocked against me, filling me completely.

  Then that tiny trickle of sensation, those first few seconds of reaching the front edge of climax caused me to grip him even harder with my pussy.

  He sensed what was happening and kept the rhythm. “That’s it, baby. Come for me and take me with you.”

  My soft cry circled the carriage, and I hardly knew it had come from my own lips. My body shuddered beneath him. As I came in shattering waves, he increased the speed and intensity of his movements. Each time, it nearly started the orgasm afresh, nearly bringing me over the edge into a seemingly endless climax.

  The muscles in his arms tightened, and he rammed his cock deep inside of me one last time. “Fuck yeah,” he growled as he came.

  He stayed there, buried deep inside of me for a few minutes, while our breathing and heart rates returned to normal. The light wind ruffled his thick hair, making him look nothing short of glorious, as he gazed down at me.

  The night sky was navy blue with white diamonds and nature’s nighttime music vibrated around us. It was almost impossible to believe that this was happening.

  “I’ve never done anything quite like this before,” I said quietly.

  “Well, Spunky, that’s cuz you were waiting for me.” He lowered himself down and kissed me.

  Chapter 13

  My extremely accommodating coachman drove me back to the house and carried me back up the stairs, depositing me reluctantly at my bedroom door.

  “I need to take Riley and the carriage back.” He kissed me again. “If you need anything, or if the creaks and noises in this old house make you uneasy, I’ll be right there across the hallway in my big, comfortable bed. Where there’s plenty of space for a sleep buddy.”

  His boots clacked the wood floor as he walked back down the hallway and stairs. I could still hear them in the entryway as he walked out the front door. I smiled to myself. A girl sure could get used to the sound of boot heels in the house.

  The wine, the late hour, the abundance of fresh air and the incredible sex had pushed me easily into a deep sleep where visions of a certain hot cowboy danced in my head. But a harsh sound, a noise that mimicked sharp nails on glass, woke me from my dreams.

  I sat up, reeling for a moment, trying to remember exactly where I was. As the darkness turned to the silhouettes of Coco’s antique furniture, my mind cleared enough to remind me that I was at the Silk Stocking Inn. The unsettling sound startled me again. It was followed by a ghostly howl that seemed to circle the entire house.

  I put my feet on the cold floor and plodded over to the window. With some trepidation, I pushed back the heavy drapes. Trees were curled over as if invisible strings had been tied to their tips and were being pulled at the same time. Another rushing sound followed that pushed against the house, making it groan loudly in protest.

  Long, thin fingers clawed at my window, and I stumbled back with a gasp. The howling sound quieted and the clawing fingers morphed into the branches of the tree growing outside the window. It was a wind storm.

  I headed back to the bed, my heart still racing from the earlier scare. It was strange how quickly the wind had kicked up. Just hours earlier, Jackson and I had been rolling through a completely quiet, calm landscape that had been disrupted only by the occasional breeze. But now gusts of wind that could upturn trees, if given the opportunity, blew in gale force around the inn.

  I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was four in the morning. Late by even the most ardent bar-hopper’s standards. There was no doubt my neighbor across the hall was fast asleep in his big bed. I leaned back against the pillows, pulled the quilt up tight beneath my chin and tried to imagine how breathtaking Jackson must look sleeping. Naked, most likely.

  I took a deep, calming breath. My head grew heavy with sleep again. Another gust of wind and the horrid scratching at the window snapped me back to fully awake.

  This time it was not just a burst of wind but a long, stretched-out onslaught of violent air. The windows rattled. I could almost hear the roof shingles being peeled away from the top of the century old house.

  I held tightly to the blanket, bracing for whatever might come next. A loud, crashing sound outside was followed by something hard hitting the house.

  I hopped back out of bed and ran into the hallway. I smacked right into a hard, naked chest. In fact, the entire man was naked, and a welcome sight, in the middle of my frenzy.

  “Thought I heard the patter of your little feet.” Jackson reached up and tucked the hair that had fallen across my face behind my ear. “It’s just wind.”

  “No. Wind pushes the trees around a little, dislodges some leaves from their branches. Whatever’s going on out there—it’s picking up large objects and throwing them at the house.”

  “I did hear something smack the far wall.” He grinned appreciatively at the nightie again as if he hadn’t already seen it. “It seems that once again I’ve happened upon my distraught heroine. Only this time she’s fleeing dangerous weather instead of a rotten husband.” He took hold of my hand. “There’s only one thing to do.”

  I swallowed the sudden dryness in my throat. “What’s that?” I squeaked.

  “I need to take you into my bedroom and comfort you the best way I know how.”

  “Comfort me?”

  “Well, comfort might be the wrong word.” He leaned down, and as he kissed me, another violent wind whipped around the house. “But I guarantee it will take your mind off that wind.”

  Without waiting for a response, he led me into his room. The room on the opposite side had less floral prints and an altogether more masculine interior, right up to the massive four post bed standing in the center of the room.

  Something about seeing the sheets and blankets in a disarray, knowing that Jackson’s naked body had just, moments before, been lying in the center of it all, sent a stream of heat through me. My pussy, still tender from the tryst in the carriage, throbbed with an urge to be the center of attention again.

  The shadows of the room came alive when Jackson walked over and turned the nightstand lamp on one notch. It cast the perfect amount of glow over the room, a yellow stream of light that made the whole room look as if it was on the movie set of some nineteenth century romance.

  The only thing that didn’t look as if it belonged in a past century was the completely heartbreaking man standing in front of the antique bed. His lean, well-muscled body looked positively incredible in the dimly lit room. As my eyes dropped, I took in, for the first time, the true length and size of his erection. It had seemed nearly impossible when he’d made love to me in the carriage, filling me to capacity in a way I’d never experienced before. But seeing it now, assured me it had not been my imagination. Jackson was head to toe magnificent, and best of all, he was every bit man and every bit cowboy. I hadn’t realized how much I’d hankered for a perfectly hot cowboy until now.

  Apparently, Jackson noticed me ogling him. He grinned and held out his arms. “See anything that interests ya’?” He looked pointedly down at his rock solid cock. “I guess my interest is more than obvious.”

  “You are a picture, that’s for damn sure. Although—” I sashayed over to his dresser. The storm outside no longer concerned me. I felt safe, secure and once again flirty with Jackson. I picked up his hat and carried it over to him. “I think this wil
l just add the cherry on top.”

  He lifted the black hat and pushed it down low over his head. I’d teased him about it once, but his brilliant white smile really did remind me of a Hollywood caliber smile. I could easily imagine him on the set of some edgy western with badass men on cool horses chasing after money, bad guys and fast women. And if that made me a fast woman, then so be it.

  “See, now that I’m wearing my hat, my confidence level has just shot up ten points. And I aim to do as I please.”

  “Since confidence was never an issue with you—”

  “We’re done talking, Spunky. Night’s nearly over, and I want to finish it with you in my arms . . . preferably naked.” He took hold of the ends of my nightgown. With one fluid move, he had it up and off my head. He pushed the thong down next.

  Before I could feel self-conscious enough to bring my hands up and across my breasts, he swept me up into his arms.

  His hat stayed low, shading his green eyes as he carried me to the bed. He plopped me down on the mattress and flicked his hat off before climbing in next to me. I stretched back on the pillows.

  He rolled toward me with a gleam in his eyes. “What’s that phrase?” He took hold of my waist and swung me over to straddle him. “Think it’s Cowgirl Up.”

  I pressed my hands against his chest. “Think that pertains to climbing up on a horse.”

  He reached up to caress my breasts. “I can give you a much better ride than any ole’ horse.”

  “Yeah? Let’s see.” I leaned down to kiss him and scooted my body back so that his cock pressed urgently against my pussy.

  Jackson’s hands reached down and took a firm hold of my ass. “Slide that pussy down over me, baby,” he growled against my mouth. “I want to feel it swallow me, hold me, milk me.”