Sweet Queen Page 2

  Wait, did that sound dirty? Ugh. She was so bad at this. The first guy to turn her on in nearly twelve long years, and she was jumping in there with weak innuendos and poke-your-eye-out nipples. She suppressed an eye-roll at herself and moved to quickly reenter her kitchen safe zone before he could answer. Before she made it far, a warm, rough hand gently snagged her wrist, halting her movement.

  “Shelli, that’s your name right? I heard Steve say he didn’t have any serving help for you today,” he spoke quietly and calmly. She felt a little zing move through her at his touch, the rough, raspy way he pronounced her name. With his tanned rugged features and his dominant presence, he was a force her libido was struggling to reckon with. “Do you have anyone coming to help you with the dishes after we get done? I know most of the guys ended up using multiple plates. The meal was incredible, by the way.”

  “Oh, thank you.” She blushed a little under his praise. “No, no one is coming to help me, but they do have an industrial sized dishwasher so it should go fairly quickly.”

  “We’ll see.” That sounded somewhat ominous, but he had already dropped his hand and his eyes, releasing her from the deep spell of awareness she was under. Most of the men were already starting to peel off, many of them taking extra desserts with them in the to-go containers she provided. They all turned into food hoarders temporarily after their longer trips, thanks to so many weeks of going without.

  She swung herself back into the kitchen, turning the radio on low so as not to disturb the last few stragglers and heating up water in the sink to rinse the dishes before packing them into the washer.

  She moved a hefty stack of plates and glassware, working at a record pace. Maybe if she kept this up, she could catch the tail end of the lake trip before she made her way back to the compound. She bopped along, rinsing and planning meals for the week in her head until she reached for a dirty plate and smacked firmly against a tall, muscular torso.

  “Easy there, honey.” The man from earlier was standing in her kitchen like a game piece from a different board, completely out of his element. A kitchen towel was thrown over his shoulder in preparation, and he looked more like a warrior prepping for battle than someone about to do dish duty. His hand stroked softly down her shoulders, calming her initial panic, and she sank into the feeling his firm grip evoked. Who knew going so long without the touch of a man’s hands would make her so hot for the first pair that came along.

  “H-hi, are you here to help? I’m almost done with these and then I’ll just need to clean my pans,” She looked up him, searching his gaze and finding no extra motives, no threats, just his need to help her. “I’m sorry, you know my name, but I don’t know yours. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Devon Callahan, but most of the people who know me call me Cal,” he said, jumping in a getting straight to work, lifting the heaviest of her pans into the sudsy water of the sink and drying them when she finished. His biceps bulged and stretched pleasantly as he lifted the large pans and the foamy bubbles trailing down his ropey forearms caught her gaze and anchored her in place, unable to draw her eyes from his utilitarian strength performing such a domestic task.

  When she found her voice again and drew herself away from the temptations he provided, she tried to show her appreciation for his help.

  “Thank you for helping me, Cal. You must be exhausted though. A month in the wilderness? I can’t imagine.”

  “Oh when you’ve done this as long as I have, the most strenuous parts of the trip become routine, but the most beautiful parts never lose their effect — that’s the best part of being a guide.” He looked down at her warmly, and she could tell he really enjoyed his job. His eyes shown with the kind of high that accompanies accomplishing much-loved tasks. “You should see all the baby elk that are out and about this time of year, I never get tired of watching them.” She could picture him, at home in the woods and truly appreciating everything their valley had to offer.

  They spent the next half hour talking about all the things he’d seen. The woods were teeming with new life this time of year, and his descriptions of the antics of elk and black bear cubs kept her sighing and giggling as they worked. By the time they were finishing up the last of the dishes, the gathering room was deserted, and the whole of the resort lay quiet as the few guests and guides went about their afternoon activities. While Shelli was anxious to get back to the club, she was reluctant to leave the comfortable rhythm she established with Cal. Their chemistry was undeniable and after almost an hour of working beside him in her highly aroused state, she was contemplating drastic measures.

  Every time their hands brushed as they traded off plates a little shock traveled through her nervous system straight to her clit. Never one to be clumsy or uncoordinated, Shelli found herself chronically plastered up against his firm chest. Each time she needed to move past him or pick up a pan or rinse a dish they would move in sync and end up crossing all of the health-code proximity lines. And she was ready to breach much more than a few silly bureaucratic regulations.

  Chancing a downward glance as he turned from the sink to stack some containers in her carriers, she saw the bulging outline of his erection. With a relieved sigh, she considered her options. Should she just come out and ask him about it? Should she make a move? It felt so weird to be in this situation but after six long years in New Mexico with no pleasure, no contact, she desperately didn’t want to let this opportunity pass.

  She quietly went and locked the swinging door and the outside door, leaving them completely alone. Step one complete. But as she considered step two, she froze, completely unsure of what to do next and panicking because if she didn’t get it together soon he would definitely notice how weird she was acting.

  “Hey, Shelli are you okay?” He stepped up closely behind her and turned her to face him, searching her eyes for answers. His fingers trailed down her arms, eliciting small goose pimples popping up along their path.

  Mustering up all of her courage, she decided to come right out and ask him. At worst, he could turn her down and he seemed like the type to do so gently. Most likely, they would have regular old normal people sex like she’d always heard about but never experienced and then she could move on with her life, knowing she wasn’t as broken as she seemed.

  “No, I’m not okay. I need to be fucked,” she said softly and looked up at his wide-eyed, frozen features. That wasn’t a good sign, but it was out there now so she forged ahead. “Would you be willing to take care of that for me?”

  Cal took a deep breath and stepped back from her a little. His pulse was pounding in his neck and his muscles looked stretched to their limits along his shoulders. When the shock in his warm, whiskey colored eyes flipped to burning desire, she knew he had made his choice. Becoming the object of the fire in his gaze filled her with a heady feminine power she had long since forgotten.

  “Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice came out gruff and scratchy. It sent a little tremor down her spine and heated her lower belly. “I can tell you’re nervous and I like to be in charge, in control. The last thing I want to do is scare you. Here and now, I need you to be sure.”

  “I’m sure.” She was too far in this to go back now and it felt as if she was teetering on the precipice of something monumental, a breakthrough in her recovery. The thought of him taking charge, of allowing her to turn off her anxious brain and experience the pleasure he could provide? To her surprise, it turned her on even more. She knew instinctively she could trust him and he would take care of her without treating her like a frail, breakable thing, and she needed that badly.

  “I don’t have a condom with me, is that a deal breaker for you?” Oh great, now he was negotiating terms. She appreciated his attention to detail, but this was hopefully going to be a dirty kitchen fucking and not a Fortune 500 merger. Drawing it out like this was only amping up her tension, her need. He needed to just get on with it. Reaching down and pulling an ages-old condom from the inner side pocket of her purse,
she gently pressed it into his palm.

  “Here. This one is pretty old but I’m also clean and on the pill. You can take me any way you want me, just maybe start slow at first, it’s been a long time.” She didn’t want to sound needy or unsure but she needed her first sexual experience after all this time to be a combination of sensual and sweet without leveraging her insecurities or leaving her running scared. Cal, in all of his rough sincerity appeared to be the perfect fit, but she felt better verbalizing her needs directly.

  He nodded, walking in a slow circle around her. “Shirt off.” He brusquely commanded her and she reflexively flung the top over her shoulder, sending it into her bag by the door. Stepping closer, still circling, he traced a line along her collarbones, along the curve of her neck. He traced the tattoos down her spine and quickly, efficiently, pulled the strings on her bikini top, sending it straight to the ground. His breath warmed the back of her neck as he leaned in and with every word she felt herself driven higher, pleasure damming up against her carefully erected barriers.

  “Wow, these are something special aren’t they?” He looked over her shoulder and ran his hands along the underside of her breasts, pushing them up with the backsides of his hands as if testing their weight as he whispered into her ear, eliciting goose bumps across her neck. “They look too big for this tiny little waist of yours, I don’t know how you hold them up.”

  He pressed his calloused palms to her back, rubbing out the red line from the tight strings of her bikini top and soothing her skin.

  On his next pass, he paused his hands in front of her, dusting glancing touches across her belly, circling but not touching her nipples. “Shorts and bottoms now.” His tone was clipped, strained as he watched the last of her clothes fall. As he stood back and looked his fill, it felt like an eternity passed under his hard predatory gaze. At first she cowered, and shifted uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes, as she stood vulnerable and naked in the center of the room. After a breath she straightened up, meeting his gaze with a challenge all her own — it was time for him to make his move.

  4

  Cal

  Well, this was certainly an unexpected turn of events. His intentions upon entering the kitchen were genuine; just help the harried, beautiful woman get her dishes done so she could go about the rest of her day.

  But, as soon as she bumped into his chest, her soft curves molding up against him and her warm eyes pinning him with need, he knew they would eventually end up here. Maybe not here, in the industrial kitchen of a respected resort chain, but with her naked and him ready to lavish her sinful body with attention, definitely. He wasn’t the kind of man to leave a willing woman waiting or unsatisfied.

  Cal ran his eyes over her stunning body. She looked like a vintage playboy pinup with tendrils of her deep red hair setting softly against the porcelain skin of her shoulders. But the hunter in him noticed other clues, minute details others might have missed. Her tattoos were bumpy and ridged along her arms as if the skin there was rough and even though he could tell most of her scars had long-healed, there were a few raised pink lines along her inner thighs that had yet to be covered with ink.

  As he stood watching her, fine tuning the plan for his next moves, he saw her confidence waver, doubt seeping through beneath her intense need. He needed to get her head back in the game and quickly. He wasn’t sure why, but he could read her well enough to know this was a pivotal moment and he wasn’t going to let her down.

  “Come here, baby girl. Help me with my shirt.” He made sure his tone was forceful but kind and she walked over to him without hesitation, grateful for some direction. Her hands skimmed the waistband of his shorts first, nudging up against the button. Quickly reaching out, he gripped her hands tightly for a moment and delivered his instructions again.

  “Shirt not shorts, baby girl. I know you heard me the first time.”

  “Yes, sir.” She winked saucily, her confidence returning and ran her hands up under his shirt, tracing his abdomen before clenching the hem and lifting it as high as she could go, her arms not quite clearing his head, the tips of her precious raised nipples grazing up the length of his chest.

  He slipped it the rest of the way off, reaching around her with both arms to lay the shirt across the big stainless steel prep station behind her in the middle of the room. Then he picked her up, his hands almost completely spanning her thighs as he lifted her to him, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her arms around his neck. She gasped, her plump glossy lips opening in surprise and he couldn’t help himself any longer.

  He hitched her higher around him, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth before plunging in completely. Her lips were warm and she tasted just like the pecan pie she’d brought to lunch, equal parts nutty and sweet. He let his tongue delve deeper into her mouth, wanting more of her breathy sighs, her hard nipples rubbing against the smooth planes of his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed someone with this level of attention, this possession. He gave everything he had over to her and her to him.

  She pulled back a little and bit his bottom lip harder than before, impatiently squirming her core against him, coating his abs with moisture and seeking more pressure on her clit. He pulled back, using one of his hands to give her a light smack on the ass, rewarded by a little squeal and a cute little furrow between her brows.

  “Hey! What was that for?”

  “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way and you have not been following my directions very well. If you still want this, we’ll go at my pace and you’ll do as I say. Understand?” He gave her a stern look, his lips betraying him a little as they pulled into a smile at the corners, his laugh lines deepening.

  She nodded a little, her head bobbing up a down, eyes wide and earnest in a way that tugged at instincts he’d long forgotten deep in his chest.

  “I need you to use words, baby girl. You understand?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “Good girl.” He set her down on top of his t-shirt on the prep table — he didn’t want her ass to get too cold — and pulled the clip out of her hair. He looked her in the eyes as he ran his fingers along her scalp, gently teasing through tangles and pulling through the ends of the strands down to circle her nipples. Her gaze met his, open and a little unsure but ready for more. She basically blossomed when he called her a good girl and her reaction to such a small praise both warmed and irritated him. Here was a beautiful, successful woman in the prime of her life and such a simple compliment lit her from within — she should be used to praise and yet she looked starved for it.

  “You have such pretty hair. It looks gorgeous against your skin.” Her eyes warmed for him, a shy smile gracing her lips as she ran her own hand through her hair a little, her hips shifting restlessly on the table. “So pure and sweet, light and creamy, I wonder if your pussy tastes like your complexion looks. What do you think, baby girl?”

  She squeaked out something unintelligible, her cheeks flushing a light becoming shade of pink that made the dusting of freckles across the her nose stand out all the more. He kissed her there, unable to ignore her sweet reaction, her heated cheeks before he moved on to the task at hand.

  “Spread your legs a little wider for me, Shelli. That’s my girl.” When she was spread open, exposed to his gaze, he dropped to his knees. The floor was cold, hard tile, but suddenly the ache in his legs from the tough trail was nothing. He found greater purpose between a pair of glistening, pink lips.

  Placing one hand on each of her thighs, he spread her further, giving her clit peeking out from its hood one long experimental lick with the flat of his tongue. He peered up at her to check in, but her head was thrown back in ecstasy, hands braced on the table behind her, the tips of her hair teasing her arched back and her eyes closed in bliss.

  Satisfied by her reaction, he dove back in. Teasing the petite little bud with his tongue, his teeth. He coated one finger in her arousal, sinking it slowly, deeply into her channel. She
was correct in her request to go slowly, even with just one finger, she was impossibly tight. He threw himself into preparing her to take him. Gently stretching her as he worked her into a frenzy with his tongue. Her first rolling orgasm came in less than a minute, her thighs clenching and shaking up against his arms where he held her spread.

  “Wow, baby that was so fast. This sweet little pussy is so responsive, so tight.” His voice came out gruffer than he intended, but the pressure was building to painful heights inside his shorts. Just voicing out loud how beautiful her release was sent him spiraling close to the edge.

  “You’re doing such good work down there. Don’t stop now, please don’t stop now.”

  He doubled down on his efforts. She was slowly beginning to loosen up around him, and he used his free hand to unbutton his shorts and pull them and his boxers down enough to free his cock. He gave himself a few hard pumps, to stave off his own orgasm, slicking the precum dripping down from the tip, up and down his shaft, then returned his full attention to Shelli.

  She was writhing on the tabletop, one hand braced behind her and the other flat over her mouth to stifle the loud mewling she had taken up once his fingers located her g-spot. Her breathing was escalating, her upper chest a beautiful blotchy pink and he could see she was almost ready to break. He increased his pressure on her sweet spot just as he sucked her clit into his mouth with firm suction, sending her off over the edge into bliss.

  He stood, scooting her lax body closer to the edge of the table, one hand bracing against her lower back along the edge of her firm, round ass, the other creeping up along the side of her neck to lodge in her hair.