Mountain Man's Valentine

by Lauren Milson

“Bad?” I say, winding her hair up in my fist and yanking her nightgown up her ass. “I can do bad. I can do bad really good.”

  She pushes her ass back against my lap, and if I weren’t wearing pants, my cock would have slid right through her soaking wet sex. I pull my pants down and grab her hip with one hand, pulling her hair with the other, and slowly guide myself into her.

  “Yes,” she moans, tilting her head back as far is it’ll go. “That’s nice.”

  Her slick pussy opens up and takes all of me, and she is sweet as sin as I fuck her in her pretty, frilly little nightgown with the delicate pink and blue flowers.

  “Rub your little clit for me, baby,” I say, and she does just as she’s told.

  My hips buck against her ass, and I feel my balls draw up as I take my little angel from behind. She’s so tight, and still so perfect and pure. Uncorruptible.

  “Let’s come together,” she moans. That’s not like her. I’m usually the one telling her to come.

  “Yes, boss,” I moan into her ear, bending over her and kissing her neck. That pretty, delicate little neck that I first saw poking out of her button-down with a string of pearls. Even more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.

  We come together, my cock exploding deep inside her beautiful softness, her pussy clenching down hard on me. We collapse together in a half-clothed heap, catching our breaths. I’m unable to move and I can barely even think.

  “You’re going to marry me, but the only question is when,” I say. That’s the only thing I can think of. It’s the only thing I can say.

  “Whenever you want,” she says. “I’m all yours.”

  “No,” I say. “We wait until you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready now,” she responds softly. “I was always ready. For all of it. I was just waiting for you.”

  THE END

  Dan and Julie are cute, but there’s one more book left. Caleb and Ava. And they might be a little too much. Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

  Touch

  An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

  I'm the man she's been saving herself for. And now she's mine.

  Caleb

  When I see the pretty little thing alone at my firm's summer party, her flesh calling out to be corrupted, I know I will have her.

  She's a vixen with luscious curves just waiting for my hands.

  But she leaves the party suddenly, before I can claim her. All I know is her name, and my one cardinal rule means I'll never see her again.

  But for Ava, I'm not just breaking my rule.

  I'm ripping my rule book to shreds.

  Ava

  I didn't think I'd spend my 21st birthday like this, at some stuffy party with the only food in sight on the end of a toothpick.

  But there is one guy, alone in the corner, with flashing green eyes, a gorgeous smile, and a body I want to hold onto.

  For the first time I'm ready to give myself over to my deepest desire - but before I can let him have me, I freak out and bolt for the door.

  But a man like him won't let me go so easily.

  And that's exactly what I've been waiting for.

  Touch is a sweet and *steamy* standalone insta-love romance with an HEA and absolutely no cheating.

  1

  Caleb

  I’m bored out of my fucking skull until I see her.

  The pretty young thing out on the balcony grabs my attention from the moment I see her hips shift. And for some fucked up reason, she’s alone. The outline of her breasts forms a perfect figure inside her little black dress and I get hard from three yards away. Her full ass sweeps out from a little waist. I could go over there right now and make her wet in two seconds flat. They always get wet for me before they even feel my cock. One look is all it takes for them. I imagine the pretty thing on the balcony trailing her eyes down my chest, stopping at my package, biting her bottom lip and whimpering because she wants it right fucking now. And she hasn’t even seen it yet.

  I can feel the eyes of every other woman in the room linger over me as they steal glances, but the woman on the balcony doesn’t know I’m here. The younger ones share tidbits about what they’ve heard. I know what they say about me. I’ve heard it all before. Even the married ones, not that I’d ever go there. They all want a piece of me.

  It’s a fucking crock, and it’s the reason I’m so careful now. After my last relationship went up in flames, I have to be.

  But she makes me want to break all my rules and be reckless. She makes me want to go right over to her and grab her by the waist, pressing my cock into her curvy little body.

  I’m here alone. I’ve sworn off dating. I fuck, but it means nothing. And the women I go home with now are only interested in a quick lay, fast and dirty. That’s the way I want it. I don’t care if they tell their friends about me or if they don’t. It doesn’t really matter. I’m focusing on my money now, so all those gold diggers don’t focus on it instead.

  But the girl alone leaning against the balcony, letting the back hem of her dress slowly glide up the back of her milky white thighs? My cock strains inside my pants, stiff as anything, like I can smell her desire in the air around us. But she’s on the other side of the room, and she has no interest in me. She has no interest in the party. She’s in her own world, and I want to know what’s going on inside it.

  She tips her chin over her shoulder and looks behind her as someone walks over to bring her a glass of champagne. It’s another girl about her age, a blonde bombshell of a woman, but I’ve already got my sights set on someone else.

  My girl's eyes glimmer in the soft lights of the Boat House as she turns to see her friend. Her gaze lands upon mine as she sweeps her eyes over the room, and I don’t want to seem like a dirty old man, but I’m staring. I can’t help it. Her perfectly kissable lips purse into a little smirk, and when her eyes finally break away from mine, she bites down on the corner of her bottom lip, sending a chill down my fucking spine.

  2

  Ava

  “It’s midnight, and you know what that means, don’t you?” My best friend Zoe saunters over to me and puts a glass of champagne in my hand, but I can't help noticing the drop dead sexy guy alone on the other side of the room. We catch eyes for a split second, and it makes me feel all warm and tingly inside.

  “I don’t know,” I say to Zoe. “Midnight. It’s a new day?” I tip my lips down to the edge of the glass and take a refreshing sip. It’s too hot out, but it’s all I can do to stay away from all the people in the party. Thank goodness Zoe is here with me.

  “A new day is correct,” she says. My best friend leans back against the railing of the deck overlooking the Central Park pond. I look around and wonder for the hundredth time how much the firm spent on this party. It’s probably not their money, anyway.

  “Oh!” she adds. “I almost forgot. Happy birthday. It’s now legal for you to drink.”

  “Right,” I say, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “I almost forgot too.”

  The party is for my dad’s firm. It’s their annual summer outing, and I guess he didn’t select the date, or if he did, I guess he forgot it was the same day as my birthday. It’s not a big deal, though, because I’m old enough to not care about spending my birthday with family anymore. As Zoe pointed out, your 21st birthday is a time to spend your night puking in a shower at the dorms.

  No thank you. And it doesn’t matter that I don’t have many friends in the dorms. At least I have Zoe.

  “Look around you and try to appreciate the party,” she says, knocking a hip against mine. She settles on the railing next to me and crosses her arms in front of her chest, taking another sip of her champagne. “We’ve got expensive drinks, good music, and a particularly sexy man over there fucking you with his eyes.”

  “It’s not my party,” I say, scanning the crowd. There’s almost no one here our age, and we’re the youngest by at least a decade except for the cater-waiters milling around in their black and white uniforms.
The rest of the crowd consists of dad's business associates, older couples and a few younger trophy wives sitting around looking bored. When my eyes get to the corner of the windowed room, decked out with strings of lights, I see the man who Zoe is talking about. He isn’t looking at me anymore, and I figure he’s moved on to someone more his speed.

  Still, I don’t get why he’s alone. He’s hot enough to have one of those trophy wives, but if I were his, I’d be standing right by his side instead of dissecting a goat cheese tart appetizer on one of those little cocktail napkins. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a big barrel of a chest tapering down into a small waist atop two strong legs. His face is peppered with a sexy black beard with the faintest hint of grey peeking through. He’s probably about forty years old, and he looks like he has sex with a different young woman every single weekend.

  His jaw could cut glass, and his smile is the sexiest thing about him. That smile, formed by two perfect lips, so kissable. It sends a shiver of heat zipping up my spine and a flip inside my belly as he looks back over at me, stopping for a second, taking me in like he’s thinking something dirty about me, before continuing to survey the crowd.

  Clearly, he isn’t interested. Our shared look was just the consequence of being in the same room together.

  “Hm,” Zoe says, turning to face the lake. She breathes in deeply and sighs as I turn to join her, looking out to the inky black sky and skyscrapers shimmering in the reflection of the lake. “So you do like him.”

  “Nope,” I say, taking a sip of my legally-procured drink. “Like I said, this isn’t my party. This isn’t my drink. And that guy doesn’t like me.”

  “Whatever you say,” she says, brushing her shoulder against mine.

  Zoe and I became friends as soon as we met. We were stuck together randomly freshman year at Milton College, and I actually groaned when I showed up at orientation and saw that she had two guys in our room already. They weren’t doing anything really, but one of the guys was sitting on my bed. My bare, unmade bed, just the mattress laying on top of the metal frame. I was excited to get into my fresh new covers and curl up with my first assignment for my 19th Century American Literature class, the first 100 pages of The Scarlet Letter. I’d read it before in high school, but I wanted to make sure I was prepared with brilliant insights to show my professor I was as good at literary analysis as any of her other students. Plus, it wasn’t an intro class, and I knew from my orientation adviser that it would be mostly upperclassmen in the course.

  All the more reason to prove myself.

  I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I couldn’t help that groan from coming out. Zoe bounced off the bed and came over to me, wrapping her arms tight around my shoulders and rocking me back and forth in a big hug.

  “I’m Zoe,” she said, her wavy blonde ponytail swinging against her back, messy locks of hair falling carelessly around her temples. I pushed my glasses up my nose, knocked loose a little by the enthusiasm of her hug. “We spoke on the phone. I brought the humidifier. Do you have the box fan?”

  “It’s in the car,” I replied, dragging my suitcase from the doorway. I took stock of the walls. I didn’t like a lot of clutter, but Zoe had already plastered band posters on two of the walls.

  She must have seen the annoyance on my face, because she said goodbye to the two guys and they left, looking a little bit disappointed. I didn’t know what they expected, but I was sure there were many more girls on our floor who could entertain them. Or maybe Zoe could follow them along to one of their rooms.

  “I took this bed,” Zoe said, hopping up on the unmade bed on the left and crossing her legs. “I’ve been here since last night.”

  “Right,” I said, swinging my suitcase onto the bed. “And what about those guys? Have they been here since last night too?” It came out a bit more snarky than I meant it to, and I didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot with my new roommate.

  She laughed and came over to me, bumping past me and unzipping my suitcase.

  “Don’t be mad,” she said. “You can have one of them.”

  She laughed, and like that, she brought me into her world. She was always generous with her kindness, and didn’t take herself too seriously, unlike me. But she was smart as a whip and in the same literature class as me, and we both ended up cuddling up on either side of the room that night, reading our books and comparing notes. We ended up tag-teaming a discussion about the book the next day in class, impressing our professor and drinking wine in our dorm room to celebrate a successful start to the school year.

  I look over at her and remember how much she’s been there for me.

  “If you don’t like loverboy over there, you got someone else in mind I don’t know about?” Zoe asks, propping her elbows on the banister. “A hot date you haven’t told me about yet?”

  “God,” I say, remembering the study session I had last night, scrunching my nose up. “I wasn’t even going to tell you.”

  “Sweetie, what is it?” Zoe cocks her head to the side. “What happened?”

  What happened? Some dickhead who I met in the coffee shop after class nearly had a conniption when I said I didn’t want to have sex with him. As if a $4.99 latte entitles him to a blowjob.

  “You know how guys are,” I say simply. “They only want one thing.”

  “I know,” she says. “It’s a damn shame. But I think it’s just the younger guys.” She lowers her voice to a whisper, even though we’re all alone. She’s got a secret to tell me, and my best friend loves secrets. “I have to tell you. It is just the younger guys. I have actual proof of it.”

  “Proof?” I arch an eyebrow at her, leaning in. I feel like we’re sharing the naughty details of a first kiss. “What proof? Did you go through every guy at school?”

  “Better,” she says, looking at me through her sassy, long eyelashes. “I didn’t have to. No, this one was older. Completely off-limits.”

  “A grad student? A teaching assistant in one of your classes?” I hiss in a whisper. There aren’t any formal rules against undergrads dating their TAs, not that I know of at least, but I’m not sure Zoe is exactly talking about dating anyone.

  “A prof,” she whispers. “And it was awesome!” Zoe closes her eyes and tilts her head to one side, letting her long hair drape across her shoulder. She’s lost somewhere in her mind, but I need her to come back to planet earth, like, two seconds ago.

  This is certainly something that is most definitely against the rules; therefore, I obviously need to know every single dirty detail.

  “Earth to Zoe,” I say, waving my hand between us. “You know I live vicariously through you. So tell me what you did! You're so bad!”

  “Not bad,” she says, wagging her finger at me. “Very, very bad.”

  “Uh huh,” I say, wanting more. More of anything. More of this! “So now this is the part where you tell me what happened.”

  “I wouldn’t say I seduced him, exactly. I just put on a pair of red lace panties and bra, and went over to his office. He said he liked my shoes, and then I dropped my raincoat to the floor.”

  My heart begins racing at the idea of me actually being able to do that, and I nod, begging her to go on.

  “No more,” she says, looking down. “I’m not going into any more details. But I’m telling you, the guys at school do not know what they’re doing. It’s just five minutes with a jackhammer before they cum, and they don’t give a shit about you at all.”

  “That’s definitely accurate,” I say, looking down at my drink. “They don’t give a shit about me.”

  “God, I’m sorry,” Zoe says, stepping in toward me and wrapping me up in a reassuring hug. “I’m an idiot. I didn’t mean anything. And look, it’s something you have to take control of yourself.” She takes a step back, squeezing my shoulders and shaking me a little. “My point is that you shouldn’t even be messing with any of these puny little frat guys. You need a man who knows how it’s done.”

  “How would I be able to te
ll what’s good, what isn’t? I’m sure I’d just be awkward and all floppy arms and legs the first time I do it.”

  “You get yourself a man who does it right, and you’ll know.” My best friend tosses back what’s remaining of her drink. “You hang tight, and I’ll get us a couple more of these. We should be celebrating, not talking about this sad shit. It’s your b-day, after all!”

  I take the last sip of my drink and she snatches the glass from me, striding away confidently and tossing a smile over her shoulder. I’ll never look the way she does in her slinky, knee-length white dress with leather straps criss-crossing her back. I look down at my simple black dress and sigh, turning my attention back to the lake.

  It’s serene and peaceful, something I’m definitely not as I wonder whether the man I saw earlier is still around. I can almost feel someone looking at me, peering at me through the air and the music, but I don’t want to look. Instead, I realize that I haven’t eaten dinner, and I wonder whether there’s any food around here. It’s a nice party, so they should have good food, but then again it’s a cocktail party, so any food I’ll be able to find most likely is on the end of a toothpick.

  I turn around again and decide to forage for some dinner. There’s a waiter coming out from a hallway carrying a tray of something that looks like little sandwiches, maybe sliders. Careful of my footing in the shoes I borrowed from Zoe, I start to make my way over, lacing through a crowd of older men in suits, none of them anything very special. They’re all my dad’s age, maybe even older than that.

  Smiling at the waiter as I finally reach him, I load two mini cheeseburgers onto a paper napkin and thank him. But as I’m about to turn around, I feel something in the air around me, enveloping me, sending electricity into my bones. It’s a scent, but I don’t know what it is. Peppermint and fresh leather, whiskey and deep cologne, and I can sense that the man with the diamond-cut cheekbones is behind me. My knees feel like foam as I turn my head to the side to see him. I should run like bloody hell in the other direction, but it’s like some foreign force is animating my body. It’s something I don’t feel often, but I know what it is. It’s desire, deep inside my bones, flooding my body with want and making me woozy.