One Hundred Wishes

by Kelly Collins

  “Be careful. I’d hate for you to poke an eye out.” She ran her fingers through his hair and followed his movements down.

  He looked up at her with hunger. “Heading for softer ground.” His large hands rested on her legs to open them wide—wide enough for his shoulders to fit between the cradle of her thighs. Good thing she was limber. All thoughts of being a contortionist ended when the heat of his mouth and the scruff of his beard made contact. The rough hair on his jawline scratched her delicate skin and left a delicious burn in its wake.

  She’d been a taut string—a coiled mass of energy ready to spike at any moment. She never expected to come undone so fast and so furiously. He stroked her with the velvet of his tongue. Suckled her with his lips and hummed his satisfaction at her taste. She climbed higher and higher until the sensation tore through her. Dalton stayed with her for every glorious, pulsating moment.

  Not to be rushed, he kept her quivering and moaning and praying for it to end and continue at the same time. When she lay next to him, wiped out and limp, he pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to his chest. He hugged her like she was important. Like she mattered.

  “How is it that I’ve had the best sex of my life and you aren’t even naked?” She stroked his dark, hair-dusted chest and followed the trail to his pants, where his quick reflexes stopped her progress.

  “Sweetheart. That wasn’t sex. That was foreplay.”

  “Oh holy hell.”

  He climbed off the bed. She was too weak to move. By the light of the hallway, she watched him walk away and return with a glass of water and a bowl of grapes.

  He dropped his pants but not his boxers and climbed into bed beside her. She drank the water and shared a few grapes before she turned to him.

  “Your turn.” She covered her yawn and then dropped her hands to his magnificent chest. Her fingers touched every ridge of muscle until he threaded his fingers through hers and pulled them to his mouth for a kiss.

  “I’m not keeping tabs. We’ve got more than tonight. We have all the nights until you leave.”

  After the best experience in her existence, she wasn’t sure leaving would be possible. How could a woman walk away from his talents—his tongue?

  He reached over her and turned out the light, then scooted down next to her and pulled her close to his body. She’d never felt more cherished in her life. This was special. He gave more than he took. She felt happy. She felt satisfied. She felt loved.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Best night of his damn life, and he didn’t even get laid.

  The sun hadn’t risen when Dalton trudged across the lake toward Bowie and Cannon with a pound of bacon and a dozen eggs tucked under his arm. He figured since he chose babe over brothers, he owed them something. Maybe a hot breakfast would reduce the variety of ways they would call him “whipped”.

  A layer of frost crackled beneath his boots while his breath turned to fog. What were they thinking when they planned to stay on the lake for two nights? Idiots.

  Another decision made after too many beers. Definitely a chest-pounding Neanderthal moment of increased testosterone.

  Holding Samantha in his arms all night would be worth the razzing he’d get all day. Hell, it was hard to leave her. Double hell because he was hard all night, but something told him that Samantha gave more than she received, and he wanted to let her know how it felt to be cherished.

  He’d walked longer than expected and stopped to look around. He backtracked across the ice, certain he hadn’t passed camp among the tents dotting the lake. They had been the only group camped at the edge of the cove.

  Something melted into the ice caught his attention. It was the piece of hot dog Cannon had tossed at Bowie last night. “I’ll be damned.”

  He spun in a circle. “I’m not the only one whipped,” he said out loud.

  He turned back and crunched across the ice, hoping he could make it back to Samantha’s before she got up. He’d kissed her goodbye and told her he’d be back. His plan was to warm her bed again tonight. Still the plan.

  He considered their conversation. The one they had in the throes of arousal where they both agreed to keep their secrets. Although Dalton believed relationships should be built on honesty, he was a realist. Samantha made it clear she was leaving. At best, he could see her when she vacationed in Aspen Cove. Given she owned the house for over two years and this was her first visit, he imagined those times would be few.

  He made his way back to her cabin, only to realize he was too late. Dressed in sweatpants, sneakers, and a Hollywood T-shirt, she jogged in place, warming up her muscles.

  “Going somewhere?” he called from the edge of the lake. He hopped from the thinning ice to the shore. His walk turned into a jog straight toward her. Once there, he set the breakfast fixings on the stairs.

  “Yes, Katie wanted to go for a jog around town. Sage and Lydia are joining us.”

  “I thought you’d still be in bed.” He looked at her with disappointment. “Thought I could make you breakfast. You must be hungry after last night.” The way her body shook had to have burned off a thousand calories.

  She blushed. “All my motivation to stay in the bed got up early and left.” She put a hand on his chest, using him for balance, and pulled her right leg up behind her. Grabbing her toes, she gave it a good stretch before switching to the other side. “Besides, my muscles are sore and could use loosening up.”

  “I could have helped with that.”

  She pushed against him, making him stumble back a step. “You caused that.” She peeked around his body, looking for her group, but they hadn’t arrived. “I’ve never felt anything so intense. It was like the worst muscle spasm in the best way.” She lowered her head to hide the new bloom of pink flooding her cheeks.

  “And you’ll feel it again.”

  “Not sure I can handle it.” She used his body as exercise equipment, gripping his hips and leaning into him for a deep lunge.

  Up and down she moved, and it nearly killed him. Her head bobbing near his zipper made the motion appear almost pornographic.

  He stroked her cheek, stopping her movements. “You want to try that while we’re naked?”

  She hopped up. “Oh. My. God. I get near you, and I lose my mind.”

  “You’re not alone.” He heard a commotion behind him and knew he had mere minutes before she disappeared into a group of X chromosomes.

  “Dinner tonight?”

  She hopped on the step so they were face-to-face. “Can’t, I hear it’s karaoke night at the bar.”

  Dalton was confused. “Bowie closed the bar while we were fishing.”

  “And you’re not fishing anymore, so it’s back open.” She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Come to the bar tonight. It should be fun. I’d love to hear you sing.”

  He gripped her hips to keep her there a moment longer.

  “Why would I punish you like that when all I want to do is pleasure you?” Not caring that the three women approached like a storm, he pulled Samantha against him and claimed her mouth. If she was leaving him for the day, the least she could do was leave him with a kiss.

  When he released her, there was a sigh from behind. He turned to see Sage, Kate, and Lydia standing there. Katie and Sage had big smiles. Lydia looked like she’d eaten something bad. Then again, with the way she reacted to affectionate couples, Dalton didn’t imagine things were good in the love department.

  “Tonight. Okay?” Samantha said as she rushed past him.

  “Yep, I’ll pick you up at six.”

  She hopped into the air like she’d won something special.

  He watched her perfect ass jog out of sight. When he glanced at the front of his jeans, he groaned. She left him with more than a kiss. He adjusted his discomfort and picked up the bacon and eggs.

  Someone was going to eat his damn breakfast, so he marched next door to Bowie’s house and walked inside. Though he knew a compromising situation wouldn’t present itself wit
h Katie gone and Bowie left home alone with the baby, he didn’t expect to find his friend reduced to goo. On the floor, bench-pressing his daughter was the big man himself.

  “Who’s Daddy’s little girl?” he crooned. “My baby. Little miracle. My treasure. Yes,” he grinned at the baby, “that’s you.”

  Dalton leaned against the wall and took it all in. Over the last year, he watched a bitter and angry man turn into marshmallow.

  Katie brought peace and purpose to Bowie’s life. She kept him on his toes. Who wouldn’t want to be a better man when you had a woman worth fighting for?

  Bowie had fought for both of them. It was funny because people say love heals everything. He didn’t believe that until a little girl was born and her daddy’s life changed. There wasn’t a day Bowie didn’t smile. Not a day he didn’t have a positive thing to say to someone.

  Dalton even noticed that Bowie’s once pronounced limp had disappeared. He figured it was because he walked with purpose, determination and pride. Bowie was surrounded by love.

  “You forgot to add ‘perfect’ and ‘princess.’” Dalton walked into the room. “You better get started on that one now. I hear girls like that.”

  “Katie hated it, so I called her ‘Duchess.’”

  “And now you call her ‘Queen’. Tell me again who’s whipped?” He lifted the food he brought. “You hungry?”

  Bowie sat up and cradled Sahara in his arms. “I could eat.”

  Dalton walked to the kitchen where he spent a lot of his youth. He knew it almost as well as his own.

  “Call your brother. He might be hungry too.”

  Ten minutes later, Cannon walked in. “Is that bacon I smell?”

  They sat at the small table by the window looking over the lake. “You two gave up last night too?”

  Cannon picked up a piece of bacon and laughed. “You were gone less than thirty minutes before we packed up. We left two beautiful women sleeping alone. How stupid was that?” He pressed the entire piece of bacon into his mouth.

  Bowie added to Cannon’s response. “Yeah, you were walking toward a hot body, and we were looking to freeze our sacks off. Not the smartest move. You get the smart brother prize for the night.” He forked a bite of the egg, the yolk dripping to the plate as he held it in front of his mouth. “You get lucky?” He lifted his brows with ridiculous exaggeration.

  “Any time I spend with Samantha feels lucky.”

  Cannon picked up his coffee and took a swig. “No, man, he wants to know if you got laid?”

  Something fierce and protective roiled inside him. “Don’t talk about her like she’s some common girl. She’s not. She’s more than a lay.”

  Bowie and Cannon looked at each other and then back to Dalton.

  “You got it bad, bro,” Bowie said.

  “Start saving now,” Cannon added, “the ring will set you back big time. If someone hadn’t bought that headboard, I’d be in debt for a long time to come.”

  “You can thank Samantha for that. Your headboard is firmly affixed to her bed.”

  “No shit? Firmly affixed you say? You give it a rocking?” He held his hand up for a high five. “Congrats man.”

  That didn’t sit well with Dalton. He didn’t want Bowie and Cannon thinking Samantha was easy.

  “We slept.”

  “Yeah, after you rocked the bed, right?” Bowie wiped up the remaining yolk with the last piece of bacon.

  Dalton shook his head. “Nope, we slept. Best damn night of my life. I’ve never done so little and been so satisfied.”

  He looked at his new brothers who sat there silent with heads shaking. “He’s got it really bad,” they said in unison.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Samantha’s run with the girls was amazing. They rounded the town and headed toward the old paper mill at Samantha’s request.

  “Heartbreaking to see it empty.” She looked into the vacant building. “So many people left when it closed.” It nearly broke her heart when her mom came home and told her she’d lost her job.

  “Wouldn’t it be great if someone could breathe new life into the place?” Katie asked. “What a great project this would be.”

  Sage wiped at a dusty window and glanced inside. “This would be a huge undertaking. You stick to the park and your family. Leave this to someone else.”

  Lydia stepped back and looked at the brick structure. “Get someone to build a hospital, and I’ll come and run it.”

  “We’ve got the clinic. You can join me there. Doc is getting older. I’m sure he’d love more days to fish.” Sage wrapped her arm around her sister. “Don’t worry. Something will go your way soon.”

  “Small town life is not my thing. I have big dreams that can’t be found in a place like Aspen Cove.” Lydia looked at them. “No offense, but there’s nothing here for me.”

  She was so wrong. Everything worth having was here. Friends, families, and Dalton. Especially Dalton. “That can change. Someone could buy this and turn it into something amazing.” She closed her eyes and pictured the building divided into shops, an art gallery, and maybe a culinary school.

  While they ran, Samantha listened to Sage and Lydia talk about the shortage of job offers in Denver, and Lydia’s frustration with her boyfriend’s lack of attention and assistance given he was in charge of the emergency room staffing.

  They ran past the park Katie funded. It would be finished before the warm weather hit and provide a safe place for the local children to play. It would offer an opportunity for mothers and fathers to leave their houses and engage with others.

  There wasn’t much to do in Aspen Cove, so people hibernated inside their homes. Most likely, they weren’t eleven seasons behind on Supernatural. What could they be watching?

  As they neared their homes, they said their goodbyes. They were all excited about karaoke night at the bar. Even Samantha thought it would be fun to sing without expectation. The only one in the group who knew her true identity was Katie, and she hadn’t talked.

  Samantha’s phone buzzed with an incoming message from Deanna because her mother would never text.

  Trouble

  She wasted no time texting her when a call would be quicker.

  “What’s up?” Samantha asked as soon as her assistant answered.

  Deanna let out a long, breathy exhale. “A few things. Dave is furious that you’re not returning his calls, emails, or smoke signals.”

  Samantha ran up the stairs and entered her cabin. “I’m on vacation, he can wait.”

  “That’s the problem. He’s not good at waiting.”

  She walked back to her room and sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s where you come in as my loyal, hard-working assistant with integrity made from steel and resolve made from titanium.”

  While they talked, Samantha looked through her closet. She didn’t miss her stage clothes, but there was a pair of thigh high boots she was certain would knock Dalton flat if he could see them on her. She wished Deanna had packed those.

  “That’s another problem.”

  “What? Tell him I’m on vacation, and I’ll be at the charity event as planned.”

  “I can’t tell him.”

  “Why the hell not?” Samantha rarely swore, but anything to do with Dave Belton gave her selective Tourette’s.

  “He fired me today.”

  “He can’t fire you!” Her voice rose two octaves. “You work for me.”

  “Yes, but I’m paid by them. So technically, I work for them.”

  There was no way Samantha could live without her assistant. The woman was a wonder of the world. Without her, Samantha’s life would crumble.

  “All right, you’re hired. Whatever you were making before, give yourself a twenty-five percent raise.” Money was the least of Samantha’s worries—Dave Belton was her primary problem. If he thought he could bully her into the studio before she had time to relax and regroup, he had another thing coming.

  “Thanks, Boss,” Deanna said. “There’
s another problem.”

  Samantha leaned against the wall and tapped her head gently against the surface. Too hard, and she’d leave a mark and that wouldn’t go well with whatever she planned to wear to seduce Dalton tonight.

  “I’m ready. Tell me.”

  “So, apparently you were at a restaurant called Chachi’s, which sounded awful until I looked up the menu. I mean, Happy Fries? Those sound amazing.”

  “They were.” She loved Chachi’s. It was her second date with Dalton. She pulled a pink, low-cut cashmere sweater from the shelf. She had a friend in high school who reserved a certain sweater for third dates. This little pink number would be hers. With that solved, she returned to the problem at hand.

  “Dining at Chachi’s was a problem?”

  “Only because you walked off stage and disappeared. The tabloids offered up cash for your location. It would be a problem if a waiter named Todd, who has an unhealthy obsession with a once blue-haired singer who happened to snap a selfie with him, threatened to blackmail you if you don’t agree to a date with him.”

  She threw the pink sweater on the bed and rummaged through her jeans to find the perfect pair. Muffins and ice cream and candy along with bacon and pancakes and Happy Fries weren’t weight-maintenance foods.

  “Are you there?” Deanna asked.

  Samantha shook the thoughts of Dalton and Happy Fries from her head. “Yes, and he’s ridiculous if he thinks I’m going on a date with him.”

  “He wrote, and I quote, ‘I’m prepared to keep her location secret if she’ll meet me for dinner.’ Which means he’ll sell the picture and your location if you don’t.”

  Samantha knew her time to remain anonymous was coming to an end, but she refused to toss in the towel right now. She also refused to let a pimply-faced teenager blackmail her.

  “Tell him no. Chachi’s is in a town almost an hour away. He only knows I was there for lunch. I could have been passing through.”

  “Okay, Boss. What do you want me to tell Dave?”

  “Nothing. I’ll take care of Dave. You no longer answer to him. Pass on your promotion to the team and let them know to contact you directly if they have questions.”