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Authors: Robin Leigh Miller

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BOOK: WhiskeyBottleLover
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“I’m going to bed,” she told Hayes. “I’ll try not to wake
you in the morning.”

He stood, the fire behind him cast a larger than life shadow
across the room and it stole her breath. This guy she should fear, not the
soft-bellied Neanderthal down the road. This man, he could do damage and not
physical either.

“Why don’t you wish for the wood to be cut, split and
stacked?” he asked quietly.

Chance chuckled. It would be easy to do, she had to admit
that. But would the pride of knowing she accomplished another task on her own
be there? No. That’s what kept her going, proving to herself day after day that
she could make it without anyone, no matter what. “You don’t know me either,
Hayes. Good night.”

Chapter Seven

 

Hayes stood in front of the fire, watching the flames
flicker and lick at the air. His arms hung at his sides with his fists balled
tight. That bastard who strolled into Chance’s barn was the same man he saw
last night. He didn’t like it. How often did this man sneak around her home in
the dark, peering in at her when she didn’t know it?

What kind of person did that? He knew the answer. A sick,
disturbed individual capable of stepping up his game, and that made his skin
crawl. He all but told Chance she’d be paying him back with sex and Hayes knew
if she didn’t give it freely it would be taken.

The thought of her being forced, abused and physically
violated turned his guts inside out. He despised the act in his time and a
hundred years confined to a bottle didn’t change that. To him women were
precious and years of loneliness only solidified that sentiment.

Hayes looked back toward her bedroom where he hoped she
rested peacefully. He sat in that barn listening, watching and suffering. He
wanted to jump down to her side, slip his arm around her tiny waist and tell
that pile of cowshit she was under his protection. The first warning not to
interfere came hard and fast, doubling him over in agony. He obeyed but at
considerable cost to his integrity. Even now, knowing she was safe in her bed,
he couldn’t help feeling pathetic.

A man should protect a woman and he sat there letting her be
intimidated. The look of fear in her eyes, the way her body shuddered when that
slime touched her, it all left a foul taste in his mouth. The overwhelming need
to protect her startled him. He’d never experienced anything like this. Not
even before he became a genie.

Hayes started ticking off the differences between her and
his past masters. She didn’t have a vicious,
I’m better than anyone else
attitude. She didn’t have much but what she did have she freely shared with him.
That never happened before. They talked like ordinary people. A grin spread
across his face. That’s what he liked the most about her. She talked to him as
if he were a man, not a servant. When was the last time that happened?

He had to admit he liked her mischievous side as well. He
got that she didn’t realize how stroking his bottle with her soft fingers
affected him. How it burned his body alive and made him hunger for things he
hadn’t had in far too many years. No one but genies knew about that. He could
overlook it. But when she deliberately put his bottle under the water to see
what would happen, well, it was funny now.

Watching her reaction to the way his wet clothes clung to
his body sparked an idea. The little minx deserved some mischief of her own. He
deliberately made sure a sizable portion of his body was exposed beneath the
blankets. Didn’t that throw her into a tailspin? Even flustered and
embarrassed, Chance couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He had to admit, being
looked at like a man again did something for him. Not that he didn’t notice the
pure female she was either. Her slight curves, full breasts and enticing mouth
made a pretty picture.

His cock twitched to life and he quickly banked those
thoughts. Damn it, Chance had revived urges he thought he’d put a cork on a
long time ago. This woman had turned out to be a challenge for him. She
wouldn’t make a wish and allow him to do his job. Instead she treated him like
a human being, feeding him, letting him help her work and reminding him of what
he lost.

Hell, he couldn’t even stay mad at her outburst earlier. The
woman actually apologized to him. He couldn’t believe his ears. The fire
popped, bringing his attention back to the here and now. He looked at her
meager stack of wood and decided to repay her kindness.

She needed the wood for the winter and he would not allow
that slug of a man to do the job and hold her in debt. Hayes tossed one more
log on the fire to keep her house warm and then sent himself outside. It took
some time but he found a dozen or so downed trees and sent them to her yard
with a mere thought. As he stood over the pile, he calculated how thick they
were and what it would take to cut them in perfect lengths.

It could all be done in a matter of seconds, all he had to
do was envision it. That wouldn’t fly with Chance though. Regardless of what
she thought, he understood her need to accomplish things on her own. Conjuring
a handsaw, Hayes settled in for a long night of work.

* * * * *

The alarm slowly seeped into Chance’s consciousness. She
rolled over and slapped at the small box, groaning her protest at having to get
up so early. It took a few moments but then she remembered why she wanted up at
the crack of dawn. The thought of that sleazy man made her kick her legs off
the bed and sit up. No time to waste.

She shuffled out to the kitchen and started a full pot of
coffee and then jumped in the shower. The hot water woke her up but she’d need
the caffeine to finish the job. Wrapped snugly in her towel, she returned to
the kitchen and poured a steaming mug of liquid energy.

After a few moments she realized that cold chill wasn’t
nipping at her wet flesh. She glanced over at the fireplace and gawked at the
full blaze warming her house. “Hayes.”

Speaking of Hayes, where the hell was he? She peeked over at
the couch—nothing. After a quick check of the house she looked out the window.
There he was in her yard. “He’s chopping wood,” she muttered.

Without thought to what she wore, Chance ran out the front
door and across the yard. The frigid morning air bit at her bare shoulders and
legs. Twigs and decayed leaves pricked the bottoms of her feet but she ignored
it all. Five yards away she came to a jolting halt as her mouth fell open.

There, right in front of her, stood Hayes, shirtless with
steam rolling off his bare upper torso. His flesh glistened with sweat and his
hair hung in thick strands around his shoulders. The axe came down, splitting a
chunk of wood in two. He kicked one piece aside and split the other in half.

Each breath he took made his broad chest heave as more steam
puffed from his mouth. It all looked like a scene from a movie—this gorgeous,
sculpted man working in the early morning fall mist. It couldn’t be happening,
yet it was.

A wave of lust so powerful it made her thighs quiver crashed
over her. She was numb to the cold air as her blood heated and surged through
her body. Only one thing rolled over and over in her mind. She wanted him, this
sexy as hell genie cutting her wood.

“You shouldn’t be out here like that.”

His dark, thick, rumbling voice drew her attention to his
face. Dear God help her. He stood there with the axe gripped in one large hand,
his shoulders straight and his chest bunched. The look in his eyes nearly made
her orgasm right there. In fact, a gush of hot liquid pooled between her legs
as he let his gaze roam down her body and back up again.

A small voice reminded her no man had ever looked at her
like this before. He made her feel desirable, wanted and horny. Apparently he
felt the same way, from the looks of his bulging erection straining against his
old denim jeans.

One of them had to take control of this moment. Chance
struggled for some form of intelligence. All she came up with was, “What are
you doing?” in a breathy, husky voice.

Hayes closed his eyes, his nostrils flared and she could
tell he fought for composure. “I’m cutting wood for your fireplace,” he
answered in a strained voice.

“Why?”

“Because you need it and I wanted to help.” He ran his palm
down over his face. “Chance, go inside.”

She couldn’t move, couldn’t even tear her gaze away from
him. He was candy to a deprived child. A full course meal to a starving man.
Erotic pleasure to a horny woman and she wanted to keep looking.

“It’s too cold for you to be out here like that.”

Was it her imagination or did his voice keep getting deeper,
thicker and more dangerous? If he kept talking she might come standing right
here. Would that be such a terrible thing? Not at the moment.

Hayes stepped forward, kept moving and she could only watch.
Each muscle glided easily beneath his skin, changing angles and mesmerizing
her. Oh how she wanted to touch him. He stopped only a few inches from her, his
body heat wrapping around her and making her womb quiver.

“Regardless of how old I am or what I can do, I’m a man who
hasn’t touched a woman or even thought about touchin’ one for a long time. You
have changed all that and standin’ here with your nipples piercin’ that thin
towel is breakin’ all my control.”

Chance heard his words, understood what he meant, but right
now she didn’t care. Following her instincts, she reached out and laid her palm
against his chest, right over his heart. Hayes drew in a ragged breath, causing
her hand to rise and fall. Needing more, she skimmed her palm across the
planes, lightly brushed his nipples and then let her hand lower to his abs.

“Sometimes I look at you and think I’m dreaming,” she
whispered.

Hayes gripped her wrist and stopped her movement. “That’s
the problem. I’m real flesh and blood and no one seems to know it.”

The sadness in his voice matched the emotion in his eyes.

“You should go inside and warm up, Chance.” He released her
wrist and cupped her cheek in his hand.

Glorious heat spread throughout her body. For the first time
since she was a child, she felt her heart beat. Not the ordinary physical
mechanics of it, but an actual sense of purpose for existing. It scared her yet
excited her at the same time. An odd twist of reality happened then. She saw
him not as he was today, but in the past. Their surroundings morphed until they
stood in a musty tent surrounded by the dim light of an oil lamp.

“Annie?” Hayes spoke in a whispered question.

The name sounded familiar, not alarming her at all. She
reached out again, touching his bare flesh, letting her hand travel down his sculpted
abs until she cupped his hard cock and squeezed. Again that familiarity
overcame her. She knew him, knew he would be gentle and give her heart-stopping
pleasure. She wanted that. Now.

“Pleasure me.” The whispered words came easily and not for
one second did she regret them.

Hayes growled deep in his throat, scooped her up in his arms
and in the blink of an eye she found herself on an old, lumpy cot. Even that
didn’t shake her from this bizarre hallucination. Somewhere in the depths of
her mind she remembered this bed. Knew where the hard spots were and adjusted
away from them.

Hayes reached down and tugged the towel away from her body,
exposing every quivering inch of flesh. He sucked in a ragged breath and let
his fingertips glide between her breasts.

“I know what you want,” she whispered. “Let me give you what
you like.” Chance pushed herself up, scooted to the edge of the cot and
released the button on his jeans. Yes, he liked this. She knew exactly how to
please him.

His stomach muscles clenched each time her knuckles brushed
his skin. Once she had his jeans completely unfastened, she tugged the denim
down over his hips until his cock sprang free. Anticipation and sheer joy
filled her chest. She gripped his thick, hard shaft and stroked, knowing exactly
where to apply pressure.

“You have to stop,” he grumbled, gripping her wrist in a
viselike hold. “Chance, stop.”

The sound of her name, her real name, brought her back to
the present rapidly. She wasn’t on a cot in a tent. They were in her bedroom and
she was naked, holding Hayes’ cock firmly in her grasp. Still, she didn’t want
this to end. The drive, the need and hunger for this man overrode every scrap
of common sense she had.

“I don’t want to, Hayes.” Her mouth watered, opened and she
leaned in, flicking her tongue over the crest of his erection.

Hayes moaned, muttered a few curses and then slid his
fingers into her damp hair. “Chance, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Yes I do. I don’t know how I know, but I know you like this
and I want more than anything to give it to you.” His protest died off on a
strangled groan as she engulfed his head with her mouth.

His taste exploded on her tongue, familiar, addicting and
driving her insane with need. Flattening her tongue so it could stroke his
shaft, she swallowed him all the way to the back of her throat before
retreating. Hayes speared all ten of his fingers into her hair and held on.
Chance reached around, gripped his taut ass and dug her fingers into the hard
muscle for leverage.

Long minutes passed as she devoured his hard cock, licked,
sucked and caressed until desperate sounds tumbled from his lips. His girth had
grown, become thicker and longer. She didn’t want to stop but he forced her
head back and held her at bay as he panted, staring down at her.

“Chance?” His voice held doubt along with desire.

“What?”

“Is it you? Do you know who you are?”

“Of course I do.” She knew exactly who she was and what she
was doing. The whys would come later, right now she only wanted pleasure. “You
aren’t the only one who hasn’t had affection in a while. Do I scare you?”

He studied her face, gazed deep into her eyes and then
helped her up. “All of this scares me. I don’t understand it but I know I need
you. Regrets will come later,” he warned.

No. She wouldn’t have regrets. This felt right. “I’m a big
girl, Hayes.” Chance reached down and wrapped her fingers around his cock.

He moved fast, lowered her down on the bed and jerked her
body until her ass hung off the edge. Next he knelt between her open thighs and
blew a warm breath over her wet pussy. Chance punched her head back into the
mattress as she lifted her hips.

“Yes, God, yes.” That one rush of hot air set fire to her
nerve endings. Before she could settle he slipped one finger deep inside her
hot, clenched pussy and sealed his lips around her clit.

BOOK: WhiskeyBottleLover
13.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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