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Fabricated Christmas

Page 3

by Maynard , Glenna


  She stops in her tracks, throwing her hip out, giving me a come hither crook of her finger. I close the gap between us, take her in my arms, and kiss her. Her arms cradle my neck, and I shove her against the nearest car wanting to explore this connection I’m feeling. Fuck she tastes sweet and smells like paradise.

  4

  —Maisy—

  I don’t know whose car we’re against but right now I really don’t care. Wilder’s hands roam over my backside as his tongue dances with mine. When was the last time I was intimate with a man? I start counting back in my head, but my concentration is cut off by the angry woman he keeps trying to dodge.

  “Finn, this is your last chance,” she shouts as Wilder finally stops our kiss. Our extremely hot kiss I should point out. I think her head is going to start spinning at any second now.

  Wilder shakes his head as I look up at him in a daze. He smirks at me, bends at the waist and suddenly I’m over his shoulder as we walk away. I must confess he showed up at the bar tonight looking fine as hell. The man is legit sexy in the whole rugged, mountain man appearance he’s got going on tonight. The complete opposite of when he was in that suit today at his office. Even sexier with his dark brown hair that is thick and wavy on the top but clipped short on the sides. You know…perfect for running your fingers through and yanking on when he goes down on you. He’s tall with broad shoulders, muscular though not in that I spend every minute of my life in the gym way, but as in I’m active and fit. He takes care of himself. And sweet mercy does he smell good. Too good. I don’t know what kind of cologne the man wears but I swear it exudes sex pheromones because right now with the way he kisses and his scent I’m like a bitch in heat. I would climb him like a tree if I weren’t already hanging over his shoulder.

  “Get her out of your system, Finn. Tomorrow you’ll be back to being mine,” she calls out after him, and as I glance up, she stomps her foot like a toddler. Wow. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who’d put up with her antics. Based off my impression of him I’m shocked he was sleeping with her to begin with.

  It doesn’t take us long to get to my room at the Inn, and Wilder finally puts me back on my feet. I fish my key out of my purse but its tangled with the shamrock key ring. Impatient, he grabs my hand and takes the key chain from me, opening the door, and shoving me through. The door slams with him kicking it shut with his foot.

  I thought the whole ‘get psycho woman away’ scene was over, but nope apparently not. He grabs me again, pulling me tight to his body and crashes his mouth back down on mine. Man can he kiss. Fire blazes in my belly and I know one thing and one thing only. Boss or not, I’m going to have sex with him. It’s been way too long, and he’s fucking hot despite being a bit of an asshole. Moving my hands down from his shoulders, I seek out his zipper, and quickly undo his jeans. Everything moves at warp speed. Once he realizes his jeans are undone, he strips me faster than I’ve ever been rid of clothes and has me on the bed ready and anticipating his next move.

  Dipping his head down, he comes in with another fantastic kiss. Hard and deep full of tongue and wet. My inner voice warns we really shouldn’t be doing this, especially since I’m about to start working for him on Monday. However when he grabs my throat, shooting me this wicked grin that says tonight you belong to me, and gets down to business teasing me with his hands, all coherent thought leaves my body. Finnick Wilder is a man who doesn’t waste time. I appreciate that in a lover. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with anyone other than my battery-operated boyfriend. Living life under my father’s rules, afraid to bring any scandal to the family name, I played things safe. Keeping my private life out of the tabloids and off gossip sites online. Appearances are everything to my family. Here though in this small town, no one knows the name Maisy Carsten. I doubt they know who my father is, but in New York City he’s a real estate mogul and developer who has more money than God.

  My attention snaps back to Wilder when he moves those hands lower and starts humming on my clit as he makes a come here motion, hooking his thick digit inside me, hitting the right spot. Clutching the sheets, I hold on tight. This man is going to bring me to the big O in record time. Faster than BOB ever has or anyone else for that matter. I don’t know whether to pray or cry because my body has never experienced anything like the way he’s making me feel. All I know is I want more of that talented mouth on me, doing all the dirty things I’ve only ever dreamed about. Hollowing my back, I grab hold of his hair, giving him a playful tug pulling him back to where I crave him.

  His face jerks up, his gaze burning into mine. “Don’t stop,” I snap. His lips curve into an amused smile.

  “Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.” Boy is he ever. “So damn wet and tight. Such a pretty and tasty pussy.” He works his thick fingers in and out my pussy while using that skillful tongue on my clit once more. Oh God, he’s good. Too damn good. He’s the kind of man who fucks you so good you want to scream out I love yous even if you don’t mean them. Biting my tongue, I throw my head back on the pillows, arching my back, hips bowing up, taking all that he gives.

  My body shivers and shakes, as he continues his torturous assault on my pussy and teasing his thumb against my asshole. Muscles clenching, I can’t hold back. No one has ever made me come so fast.

  I grin down at him as he snakes up my body and kisses me deep—his tongue tasting of my essence.

  I break away. “Condom?” I breathe heavily into his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne. It’s dark and spicy with a hint of musk but reminds me of something exotic. On Finnick Wilder the combination is intoxicating.

  “Fuck,” he mutters and grabs his jeans off the floor digging for his wallet.

  “Please tell me you have a condom.” I pinch his ass and he yelps.

  “Easy.” He chuckles, flashing a foil wrapper at me.

  This man is infuriating but sexy as hell. I wait impatiently as he rolls the rubber over his erection. My eyes go round at the sheer size of him. I glance down at my vagina wondering how that massive cock is going to fit inside me. My brain is envisioning trying to shove a watermelon through a pea.

  Settling back over me, he grips his thick cock, rubbing the head back and forth, dragging it over my pussy lips, teasing me. “Fuck me,” I purr at him, needing him more right now than I’ve ever needed any man in my life. I’m desperate for it. I’ll do whatever he wants right now.

  Finally, he pushes the tip in and stares down my pussy stretching around him. He barely fits. Wilder pushes deeper in then stops before drawing back out and thrusting harder.

  He shifts, muttering a curse under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He jerks out of me. “Condom broke.” Of course it did, he’s huge, I’m surprised he got it on in the first place without choking the life out of his dick.

  “You have another, right?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “The gas station across the street?”

  “Closed.” He drops his forehead against mine.

  “You wore protection with crazy bitch though?”

  “Yeah? And before that?”

  “I was married.”

  “Right but you’re clean?”

  “Yup. You?”

  I nod. “Mhmmm. You’re the first guy I’ve slept with in like a year or four. I lost count, though I’m good.”

  “Birth control?”

  “I’ve been on the pill since I was a teen.”

  “You want this?” he tosses the broken condom over his shoulder.

  “Fuck me, Wilder.”

  He grins and kisses me. Then he gives me what I crave, sliding back inside, thrusting deeper, driving into me so hard I’m going to feel him for days maybe weeks.

  5

  —Finnick—

  I wake up pinned to the bed, an arm over my chest, and a smooth leg thrown over mine. Shit, I fucked up. Maisy was hot as hell last night and even more beautiful when she comes. I should have left her a
t the door to her room and walked away. But no. Her swollen lips called to me and the second I shoved her into this room, I had to have her. I had a taste of heaven between her thighs and couldn’t stop until I fucked her brains out.

  “You still here?” is mumbled out as Maisy moves, disconnecting her body from mine. Feeling her limbs leave my body I almost pull her back, but I stop.

  “Was just getting ready to leave actually,” I tell her as she nuzzles a pillow.

  “Okay. Thanks for such a warm welcome to Wilder’s,” she grumbles with a yawn and snuggles deeper into the mattress.

  I grab my jeans from the floor and tug them on. “Maisy, we should talk.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed to tug my boots on. “Last night shouldn’t have happened.” There I said it. Felt like shit coming out of my mouth but it’s the truth. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. I can’t even blame it on being drunk. Wish I could. I wanted her. Now that she’s out of my system I can move on and I hope she doesn’t make shit awkward for me. I’d hate to fire her before she starts on the job.

  “I get it. You don’t need to have the talk with me. Besides it got Psycho Barbie off your butt.” She waves an arm, basically dismissing me.

  I don’t know why it stings. The act sucker punches me straight in the gut. I’m the one who gives the brush off not the other way around. I’m not sure I like it.

  I glare at her, although she can’t see it. “It won’t happen again.”

  Maisy yawns. “Obviously. It was a onetime thing we can blame on getting caught up in playing our roles. Rule number one—don’t date your boss. Rule number two, never ever sleep with your boss.” She grins lazily into the pillow.

  Rule number three. Rules are meant to be broken. I start to say but stop.

  “Rule number three,” she continues, “we never speak of last night again.”

  Why do I suddenly want to punch a hole in the wall and yell at her? I grind my teeth. “So we’ll just forget it happened?”

  “That’s what you want isn’t it?”

  I stare at her sexy backside a few seconds before tugging my shirt over my head, my jaw clenching. “Well, good, see you Monday,” I grunt out and leave her room.

  Her flippant attitude pisses me off. I almost expected her to get flirty and try for another go, but it was almost like she was disappointed I was still there. I know it’s for the best, but it happens to piss me off all the same. I make the walk of shame down the sidewalk, going toward Bud’s where I left my truck.

  I glance at the driver’s side door. What the fuck? There’s a long scratch deep in the door. Fucking Amanda. Crazy damn bitch. I’ll deal with this later. What a damn fruit loop. I can’t believe I ever fucked her and more than once. That’s what I get for thinking with my dick.

  I fish my keys out of my pocket and climb into the cab of my Chevy. I start up and head over to my folk’s for breakfast. I need to ask Mom a favor.

  “Someone looks rough this morning,” Mom muses as she slides me a plate of biscuits and gravy topped with sausage crumbles as I slouch into the high back chair at the dining table.

  I chug my coffee and ignore her. Branson grins at me from across the table while Dad just ignores us all and reads his morning paper.

  “Heard you spent the night at Shamrock Inn,” my brother announces looking all smug. I kick him under the table, nailing him in the shin. “Ow, shit,” he howls.

  “Was it with Amanda? I heard she made quite the scene last night,” Mom interjects. “That girl has it bad for you from what I hear. Guess she thought you were going to put a ring on her finger.”

  I swear to fuck that woman needs her head examined.

  “She’s the definition of crazy. Hope you wore a rubber,” Dad barbs.

  “Jesus. Can we not discuss my sex life over family breakfast?”

  “Well my phone has been ringing off the hook all morning. You know how the girls are. Ha. Ha. Ha.” Mom’s high pitched laugh pierces my damn ears.

  Her girls as she calls them are nothing but shit stirrers who have nothing better to do than spread rumors while they knit and garden. They need to be worried about their own lawns before they talk about how I water mine. I dig into my food and groan. Nothing beats my mom’s cooking.

  “You guys rent out the cabin yet?”

  “Yes, you know the moment summer is done the hunter’s stake their claim. Why?”

  “New girl I hired needs a place to rent or buy.”

  “What about Mrs. Donahue’s place. She was just moved into the senior home. I always loved her backyard. That view of the town, just priceless.”

  “And she had like twelve cats. Place is nasty and reeks of piss. You can smell it when you drive by. Gonna be months before Curtis has it rentable or up on the market.” The property is great, but that house probably needs a complete renovation. The cats had taken over. The animal shelter didn’t even have room for all the furballs and had to find fosters for a few of them.

  “So, you wanted us to rent the cabin to her? What about your apartment over the garage or one of your spare bedrooms?”

  “Not happening. I won’t even let Branson move in and he’s not half as pretty.” I chuckle.

  Mom frowns. “You know your brother gets his good looks from me. What are you trying to say that your poor old mother is ugly?”

  “Jesus, Louise.” Dad folds his newspaper and shakes his head. “Give the boy a break.”

  Boy, I snort to myself. I’m thirty-five years old.

  He shoves his chair back, goes to the counter, and pours himself another cup of coffee from the pot.

  “You like this chick, don’t you?” Bran accuses.

  “No. I owe her after she rescued me from Amanda. Twice.”

  “That’s not how I saw it last night. I would’ve been taking her home last night if you hadn’t interrupted us.”

  “Home to where? You live here, little brother. When are you going to stop sucking on the tit and get your own place?” No way Maisy would have been leaving with him. I start to argue my point but think better of it.

  “Boys!” Mom snaps and a dish clatters in the sink. “I won’t have you talking filth at my table.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I mutter, smiling into my coffee cup. Grown ass man and still getting called to the carpet by my mother.

  “Branson knows he always has a place here. Though, son, it would be nice if you started thinking about your future and finding you a nice girl instead of picking up floozies at bars. Same for you, Finnick. I’m sure this Maisy is a nice girl but sleeping with her the first night doesn’t sound that nice.”

  “Who said I had sex with anyone? And even if I did, I’m a grown ass man who can decide where I stick my—”

  Whack. A hand knocks the back of my head hard. “Don’t finish that sentence.” Mom stands behind me ready to hit me again if I don’t listen. “Now eat up. I’m going to go get dressed and tidy up the apartment over your garage. I heard she’s real pretty.” She claps and lets out an excited squeal. “You know it’s the only decent place available right now. You can’t leave her at the Inn.” She shakes her head, giving me an exasperated glance.

  Dear God, what have I done, I wonder as she unties her apron that says: Kiss the Cook, with a picture of Miss Piggy ironed onto the center?

  Maisy won’t know what hit her when my mother gets her hands on her.

  I finish up with breakfast and say my goodbyes. I need to get home and hop in the shower before I call on Maisy to show her the apartment. I’m telling myself this will only be temporary. She’s new here and might not even stick around. No sense in getting so damn flustered and yet all I can think about is how damn good she felt in my arms.

  6

  —Maisy—

  I’m just finishing pulling my hair up when there’s a knock at the door of my motel room. “Just a second,” I call out, as I get another bobby pin to pin this darn flyaway piece down.

  Walking over to the
door I open it and am face to face with Wilder. “Hi. Not to sound rude, but what are you doing here?” I hope he doesn’t think last night means the start of something between us.

  “Grab your purse and a jacket, got a place to show you, and if you like it you need to fill out the paperwork and have the first month’s rent.”

  My brows shoot up. “Great, one second.” I rush over to the desk to grab my purse, slip on my UGG boots, and yank my coat off the back of the desk chair before we head out. It was all sunshine the other day and now its windy and cold again. This weather is giving me whiplash. “So where is this place? How much a month? What’s all included?” I start to ramble off.

  “Just wait until we get there, I have all the paperwork and shit.” He opens the passenger door of his big black truck to let me in first. I’m surprised by the gesture since not many men do this sort of thing anymore unless they get paid to. I shrug it off and climb in, the second my butt hits the seat he shuts the door.

  “Drive takes about twenty minutes, longest drive in town probably. The apartment is small but it’s in a safe neighborhood,” he tells me once he’s in the driver’s seat.

  “Okay. I can do small. I’ve been staying at the Shamrock after all.”

  “There’s a house that should be coming up for sale soon. I know the owner and will talk to him about it if you’re serious about sticking around.”

 

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