MAKER (The Men of Whiskey Mountain Book 4)

by Frankie Love

  I kiss her the way I've been thinking about for the last few months. When I lay awake at night in my half-built cabin remembering the night I shared with Marley Grove. The curve of her body, the swell of her breasts, the way her eyelashes fluttered when she came… the memory flashes before me as I kiss her.

  The memory runs over me, through me, as our lips press tight against one another. Our mouths open. Her tongue finds mine and, God, I need this woman now, forever, always. She kisses me hard, deeply, tugging at my shirt as if she needs me closer and also wants to push me away.

  When the kiss ends, I cup her cheeks, my thumbs on her cheekbones, my eyes on hers and hers alone.

  "I'm sorry, Marley. I should've come back sooner. I should have fought harder. I shouldn't have listened to your brothers.”

  She shakes her head, presses her fingertips to my lips. "No, it's okay, Maker. Everything in its own time, right?"

  I nod. "See," I say. “Even that, that reply, it's more than I deserve."

  “How long are we going to be going around in these circles?" she asks me. "Because we don't have all day. We don't have…"

  I pick her up then at her waist, the curve of her flesh in my hands. I carry her down the hill toward the water. We may not have all day, but we sure as hell have all night.

  I take her to my boat, the one I came here on, the one we left here on all those weeks ago. With her at my side as I took my seat in the captain's chair.

  Now we don't sail away. We stay put. The night is ours. I take her below deck and I lay her on the bed. I kneel before her. She scoots to the edge, looking down at me, and I press my hands to her thighs.

  "I fucking missed you," I tell her, pleading with her, "and I fucking need you, Marley."

  She blinks back tears. "Are you sure it's me you want, that it's not just the idea of me?"

  "I've spent the last ten weeks building a house, a home, for you, for us. I'm not blowing hot air. I mean it. I'm telling you, Marley. This is what I want."

  "My brothers," she says softly, shaking your head.

  "Do we have to talk about them tonight?" I ask her, "because, baby, I know we have a lot of shit to work through. A lot of people will need to get on our side. But before all that, can't we just spend one night alone, lost in our own reality?”

  “Like before?" she asks.

  "Yeah, baby, like before."

  "Do you know how many nights I wished you were in bed with me?" she asks me, running her hands through my hair. "Do you know how many mornings I woke up with an ache inside of me that I knew no one could fix, that I certainly couldn't fix dreaming of you?"

  "How many?" I ask, my voice shallow, low.

  "Every morning," she says, "and I'd try to fix things to set my body straight. But it was useless."

  My cock twitches. "When you tell me you tried to set things straight, just how exactly did you try?" I ask her. She pushes up the skirt she's wearing over her hips and she teases down her panties. She lies back, her knees spread wide, and she begins to touch herself. I'm right there at the edge of the bed, a perfect view. "Fuck, baby," I groan as I take in her sweet pink cunt, how wet it is, how juicy and ripe. Ready for me, and damn, I’m ready for her.

  She runs her fingers over herself. "I'd do this," she tells me. She moves her fingers more quickly, spreading her lips and teasing her clit, her finger plunging into her core. "I'd try but I could never quite make it happen. I couldn't come the way you made me come, Maker."

  I grunt, leaning over her. "Do you want me to make you come right now?" I ask.

  She nods. "Please," she asks, her voice a whimper, "make me come. I'm so hot for you."

  "Fuck, baby," I say leaning down and kissing her again. "But I don't want you in these clothes when I fuck your cunt, when I finger you hard the way you deserve. I want you naked, bare, your titties bouncing, your ass mine for the taking. Do you understand me?"

  She nods slowly. "I understand you," she says.

  I pull off her skirt and she tosses away her top, unhooks her bra. I strip down to nothing, my thick cock heavy between my legs.

  And she licks her lips as she takes me in. "I missed you," she moans.

  I shove her knees apart with a deeper need than before, hungry for her in a more primal way.

  "Take me," she tells me, "please, because I don't know…"

  "Shhhh,” I tell her, "don't talk about the future. Let's live in the moment right here, right now."

  She does as I ask and I spread those creamy thighs. She seems to have a bit more curve than she did before and I like it, how big tits are, nice and lush. And I drop my mouth to her pussy, running my tongue up and down her sweetness, licking her up the way she deserves, the way she needs. Her cunt so tight, her hole so juicy, and she moans in pleasure as I kiss her, lick her, as I use my fingers to dip deep inside her core, finger fucking her the way she deserves.

  "You like that, baby?" I ask, looking up at her, my other hand on her tits, teasing her nipples. They're hard, her tits so damn full. She looks like a goddess here before me, naked and mine. My cock is rigid as steel, desperate to sink deep inside her hole. But first, I need to make her come. I need to watch her back arch and her eyes close, her body shudder as I get her off. I finger her harder, with intention, two fingers then three, and she's doing more than crying out. She's screaming my name.

  "Oh, Maker! Yes, yes!" she begs. "Make me come.” I won't let her down.

  She rides my hand the way I knew she needed, her ass on the edge of the bed, her juice rolling down her thighs onto my bedspread. And I grin, loving this sight.

  "God, I want to fuck you," I tell her.

  "Then do it," she says. "Don't make me wait."

  I dip my mouth back to her cunt, sucking it hard as she rolls with pleasure, head to toe, the orgasm rocking her world the same way she's rocked mine.

  And then I slap her ass and I tell her to get on all fours.

  Panting, she does as she's told. She rolls over for me like a good girl and I run my hands over her back, squeezing her ass, getting her nice and ready for my cock.

  Marley

  We've only spent one night in one another's arms, but when Maker and I move together, naked and alone, it's like we've spent our whole lives together. I close my eyes, not wanting to voice my deepest feelings, my deepest desires. I want a life with Maker. I think about the baby in my belly. I want to tell him all about it, but also, I don't because I don't want Maker to choose me just because I'm having his child. I want him to choose me because he sees a life with me, because he sees a way forward, because he believes in love, our love.

  So, I don't say a thing.

  Not now.

  Instead, I move on all fours the way he tells me, and I feel him run his hand over my slick pussy. His cock is hard and firm sliding into my cunt, and I brace myself. My hands pull at the blanket beneath me as he begins to fill me up. My tits bounce as he moves against me, his hands on my hips. I drop my head, moaning as he moves deeper inside of me. He leans down, kissing my back, cupping my breasts, and I feel beautiful on my hands and knees like this. Vulnerable. Offering all of myself to him. And when he takes it, takes me, I don't feel scared. I feel seen, I feel wanted. I feel like I'm his.

  Last time we made love, and this time he fucks me, fucks me hard as if he knows just what I need. I need to be taken to the edge of oblivion, past doubts, past insecurities. Will a man like him really want a life with me? I'm no Bellamy. I'm no Jemma. I'm a girl who hasn't seen much, and he's a man who's seen more than his share, and maybe that's why we could work. He's been to the edge and back. But me? I've been walking in sunshine all my life.

  We finish together, gasping, hearts pounding hard, and he pulls himself from me. I roll on my back, looking up at him. My whole body is shaking from the pleasure, from the idea of what could be.

  He leans over me, pinning me to the bed, brushing his thumb over my cheek. "Why are you crying?" he asks.

  I shake my head, squeezing my eyes tight. "It's not
hing," I say.

  "That's not true, Marley," he says. "It's everything. Tell me."

  "I want us to work. I want us to fit together."

  He smiles. "We fit together pretty good right then, didn't we?"

  I laugh despite myself. "That's true," I say, licking my swollen lips. "I'm still so mad that you didn't come back for me."

  "I'm glad you didn't come for me," he says.

  "Why?" I ask.

  He rolls me into his arms, cradling me, kissing me, my cheeks, my mouth, my nose. "Because had you come to my property in the Whiskey Mountains, I don't think you would've liked what you saw."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You deserve a guy who can give you the damn world. Few months ago, if you would've come to my place out on Whiskey Mountain, you would have seen a shitty little cabin falling apart. Nothing else."

  "I don't need anything fancy," I say. "You saw the house I grew up in. It's modest. I'm not looking for…"

  He shushes me. "Hey. I've been working on my house," he tells me. "All these months, that's what I've been doing."

  "Really?" I ask. "And what is it you do? I mean, besides working on your house?"

  "You asking if I have a job?"

  I bite my bottom lip. "I don't want to be that kind of girl," I say, "pressing a guy, pushing him into a corner."

  "Why not?" he asks. "Why not be that girl? Why not tell the man you like, hell, the man you could love, what you deserve, what you demand?"

  "I don't know. Most of my life I've been taught to be quiet, to just do what I'm told, to play the part. Be a good daughter or be a good sister."

  He shakes his head. "I don't want that. I don't want a woman like that."

  "What are you saying? You don't want a woman like me?"

  "No," he says, pushing back on my words. "That's not what I'm saying. I want the real you, the real Marley. The Marley who has opinions. The Marley who has desires. The Marley who closes her eyes and pictures a life, and I want to know what that life is. Because fuck, baby, if I have any chance of giving it to you, I will. But I need to know what I'm working towards before I can start."

  "You're asking me what I want with my life? Complete honesty?"

  "Yeah," Maker says. "Complete honesty."

  "Sitting at the fire tonight," I tell him, "I was hearing these stories about these fancy parties and the extravagant lifestyle that you used to lead, and it made me wonder if a life with me would be big enough for you."

  "Fuck. What is that supposed to mean? Because you know all that shit I did before, it didn't get me anywhere good. I'm here, alive, by the skin of my teeth. And it's more than I deserve. But being here, in the woods, I’m finally miles away from that shit that pulled me under for so long.”

  “But there's some shady stuff in Alaska," I tell him. "I knew what Father John was doing. He's still out there, you know. He's still taking in women who are left and alone, bringing them to God knows where. Forcing them into servitude in whatever way that suits him. I hear about it. I live next door to the sheriff in Riverside." My cheeks turn pink. "Well, you met that sheriff, didn't you?"

  Maker scoffs, "Yeah, I sure as hell did."

  "Anyways, life in Alaska isn't all sunshine and daisies and waterfall hikes. It can be dangerous too. And not just the bears. There can be scary stuff that happens up here. Dangerous stuff. Heck, I heard Jameson used to do drug runs for the Mountain Militia. Did you know about that?"

  Maker swallows hard. "Yeah. Yeah, baby. I did."

  "See? You know all the shady stuff that's going on up here already. It makes me wonder…"

  "What? You wondering if I'm going to be tempted to go to the dark side again?"

  "Maybe," I say. "Look, I'm not saying you would want to do that. I'm just saying you might get bored. Just living up here, doing… what, exactly? I was listening to you guys talk. I know you’ve been a part of bigger things. You had a purpose back in California. So, look, I'm scared if I lay out what I want with my life, you're going to hear it, and you're going to run the other way."

  "But what if I want something different?" Maker asks. "I built a fucking cabin. I'm trying to put down roots. I have plans to invest my money in the Whiskey Mountains. I want to make this place better. And I want to use my money to make that happen."

  "Okay," I say. "I'll take you at your word, and I'll tell you the truth."

  Maker rolls over onto his side, propped up by his elbow, running his hand over my breast, cupping it softly. I look at him, his dark eyes that care. His beard and his chiseled body, tattoos telling stories I've never heard before.

  "I want a baby. Two, three, four, maybe five," I tell him with a smile. "I want a family and I want to make dinner for them every night, and I want to tuck them into bed. All of them, the five babies and the husband."

  "Separate beds, though, right?" Maker asks.

  I nod with a grin. "Yeah, separate beds. And I want to wake up in the morning and I want to look out at the lake or the ocean, and I want to see big green trees over the cabin."

  "It's a cabin, then, huh?"

  I nod. "Yeah. I mean, I don't want to live in town, in Riverside. I want to live in the woods, and I want to have wildflowers and a garden." My voice hitches, and I feel tears brim in my eyes. I blink them back. "I'm sorry," I say, "I don't know why I'm getting emotional."

  "I know why, baby," he says. "Because you're opening up your heart for what I think is the first time in your life. You're putting words to your dreams, dreams that scare you because what if you say it out loud and it doesn't come true?"

  I nod tightly. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm thinking. What I'm feeling."

  "Tell me more," Maker says, turning my face to his. "Tell me what happens after you look out at the water, up at the big green trees. After you pick yourself up a bouquet of flowers and set them on the kitchen table. What happens next, baby?"

  I smile, not brushing away the tears as they fall. "Then I make breakfast. My specialty," I say. "You haven't experienced it, yet, Maker, but I make a really good breakfast."

  "I believe you," he says. "Tell me what you’d make."

  I inhale, my whole body tight with nerves, and I let the breath out. I let those nerves fly away. I smile. "I make you pancakes."

  "Me?" he says. "I'm in your hypothetical future?"

  I lick my lips. "Would that be so bad?" I ask him, realizing I revealed more than I anticipated.

  Maker looks at me, tucking back a strand of my hair, kissing my freckles, kissing my lips. "No, Marley Grove. That doesn't sound bad. That sounds like paradise."

  Maker

  When I wake in the morning, sunlight is streaming through the window and I look over at Marley as she stirs awake. She looks beautiful, the light filtering over her face, her freckles bright, her hair loose and tangled around her shoulders. She looks like an angel. My angel.

  She presses her hand to my chest, her eyes blinking open. "I slept so hard," she says.

  "You did," I say. "You've had a hard week?"

  She shrugs. "I had a lot of shifts at the bar and grill this week and I actually have to work later this afternoon. I'm going to have to get going pretty soon."

  “I can take you back to Riverside," I offer.

  "That sounds great, but first I need to go help Bellamy with breakfast — I promised."

  I watch as Marley gets out of bed, her curvy body making my cock ache. God, we had a good time last night and I want her to know how I feel, that I could be with her forever, always.

  She pulls on her clothes from yesterday. "My bag's at the yurt, I'm going to have to go back there to change," she says.

  "I could walk you." I pull on a pair of jeans, shove my feet into boots and follow her down the dock toward the yurt where Bellamy was assuming she'd be staying last night. But she didn’t. She stayed in my bed, in my arms, tucked in safe.

  In the yurt it's hard to keep my hands off of her. I pull her in for a long kiss, loving the way her mouth feels again mine.

&
nbsp; "You're in a good mood," she says.

  "I'm a morning person, what about you?"

  "Same," she admits. "Considering I work at a bar, I wish I were a night owl, but I've never been that way. I always like to see the sun come up. I like to go outside and have my cup of coffee, smell the fresh air that is distinctly the morning in Alaska."

  “Pine trees and saltwater," I say.

  She nods. "Exactly. I still can't believe you grew up in California. It seems like a world away," she says, slipping off her clothes and reaching into her overnight bag to find fresh ones.

  Before she can dress though, I pull her to me once more and I kiss her hard. I can’t get enough. She smiles up at me. "Bellamy's going to be mad if I don't help her."

  "I think she can survive,” I say, looking into her eyes.

  "But if I don't help with breakfast, you won't be able to taste my famous pancakes."

  I groan. "Fuck, you're right," I say, laughing, kissing her neck, plucking her nipples.

  She laughs deliciously, smacking my ass. "Later," she says, "I promise, but I don't want my friends to think I'm a flake, considering I'm still getting to know them."

  "I totally understand," I tell her honestly. Once she's dressed in a white tank top, oversized overalls and flip-flops, we leave the yurt heading to Beam and Bellamy's tree house.

  On the way, I ask her if her brothers are fishermen, if they have boats they take out. I need to get to know her, try and figure out an inroad with her brothers if I want to make this work.

  "They've been crab fishermen for as long as they've been out of high school, but it's hard work," she says. "They're constantly away for weeks at a time. I know they want to do something else."

  "Like what?" I ask.

  "Actually, they want an investor. They were at a bank yesterday. That's why they couldn't drive me out here themselves. I know they wanted to meet Beam and Bellamy, but another time," she says, smiling.

  "And why were they going to the bank for an investment?"

  "They have this idea of starting a whiskey distillery. I don't know. My dad had this moonshine recipe that is famous around Riverside and they want to open up shop. I admit, I think it's a good idea. It's dangerous out on the crab boats."