Miss Matchmaker: A Small Town Romance Read online

  His lips against mine are like nothing I’ve ever felt. Every nerve in my body explodes into action, memorizing the way his smooth, hard body feels as my hands find him, relishing in the way his hands feel exploring me. His tongue flicks against mine and his hand cups my cheek, holding me in his embrace like he never plans to let me go.

  For just a few perfect moments, everything else falls away. My career, my past, my reservations--they burst into meaningless dust when his hands are on me.

  I don’t even know when it happened, but somehow I’ve climbed on him so that I’m straddling him with my knees digging into the wet rock below the water. His hips press up against me until I feel his hard cock against my pussy.

  “I don’t--do--things like--this,” I gasp between kisses.

  He pulls me back, stripping his underwear so I can see his cock standing proudly just beneath the water’s surface. “No one does,” he says with a cocky little smile. “Till the first time, at least.”

  My mouth feels so dry I couldn’t swallow if I tried. I’m really doing this, aren’t I? And it has all been so easy, like getting swept out to sea by a riptide. Fighting it would be harder than letting the current carry me farther and farther away. But why should I fight it? Why shouldn’t I let this happen? I’ve spent my career making moments like this for my clients, and now it’s finally my chance to have one of my own.

  With a heaving chest, I pull my soaked panties down my thighs. I try to make a sexy show of it, but the relatively small shelf of rock doesn’t give me enough room to work, and I nearly lose my balance when I lift a knee to hook the panties over my foot.

  Country reaches out and yanks my panties off with a wet snap that makes me jump in surprise.

  “Sorry,” he says, sounding anything but. “Patience was never one of my strengths. I’ll give you about five seconds to get your bra off before I go at it with my teeth.”

  “Five… Four…” I say, shocking even myself with how bold I’m being right now. “Three… Two… One…”

  He pulls me closer, making my thighs slide over his and my bare pussy press into his erect cock as he does. He leans down and grips my bra between his teeth, grips it with both fists, and pulls back with surprising strength. I expect the bra to rubberband back into me painfully, but the straps snap and he lets the bra drop to the water where it starts to drift slowly away.

  “Wow,” I say. “You were serious. But you did cheat a little.”

  “Deal with it,” he says, taking two handfuls of my ass and presses me into his cock, which slides perfectly into the groove of my slit as my body takes over and my hips grind into him. I thread my fingers behind his neck, using him as leverage to dig myself harder into him with every thrust of my hips, relishing in the friction of his cock against my pussy. I want more, so much more, and I don’t think I have the patience to wait for it.

  “Shouldn’t we have a condom or something?” I ask, though I already know the answer doesn’t matter to me. Not right now. For better or worse, I’m all in. I’ve let myself go with the momentum and there’s no stopping it.

  “I’ve got one in the truck. Do you want to climb back up the cliff and get it, or should I?” he asks.

  “You’re such an asshole,” I say, leaning down to kiss him and slide my hips against him.

  He grabs my breasts, circling my erect nipples with his thumbs. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen.”

  “Did your grandma teach you that compliment, too?” I ask with a wry smile.

  He slaps my ass. “Watch it, darlin’. Keep giving me back talk like that and the only lip you’ll be giving me is around my cock.”

  “You’re terrible,” I say, but there’s little conviction in my tone. Instead of feeling offended, my eyes drift down to the shape of his cock beneath the water, standing proudly erect against me, so close to my entrance I can imagine how it would feel stretching my walls.

  The little voice in the back of my head that has been trying to talk reason into me this whole time keeps getting quieter and quieter, like someone is closing door after door on the sound until it’s nothing but a faint muffle. Wholesome girls don’t do things like this. Reasonable girls don’t let men sweep them away from responsibility and hook up in a lake. That may all be true, but maybe I’m tired of being reasonable and wholesome. I’ve spent long enough helping other women find perfect moments with the perfect men for them. It’s my turn.

  I suck in a breath to steel my nerve and reach down to grip his cock. I press it against my entrance, gasping as I lower myself down on him and marveling at how well he fits me. I meet his gaze, relishing in the lusty way his eyes smolder back at me. His strong hands guide my hips down, urging me to take more and more of his cock inside.

  “This is crazy,” I gasp, but I don’t stop the increasingly frantic pace of my body against his that’s making the water churn and ripple against the rocks of the cliff.

  “If this is what crazy is,” he says, pressing his palm against my mound and using his thumb to work my clit as I grind into him, “then fucking sign me up.”

  I throw my head back. “Oh God. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare take your fucking hand away. Oh God!”

  I close my eyes against the torrent of pleasure and sensation--from the way his warm length feels inside me, stretching my walls perfectly to the way his thumb is making my body feel like it’s on fire with ecstasy.

  “I’m going to cum,” I gasp.

  “Not yet you don’t,” he says, pulling out of me and somehow managing to help me flip over so I’m sitting on the underwater ledge with my back to the cliff. He treads water in front of me with his hands on my knees and a wicked grin that gives me an idea of what he’s planning.

  “I’m only going to come up for air once, darlin’. If you don’t want me to drown, you had better cum quickly for me.”

  I start to laugh, but the look on his face tells me he’s completely serious. “Country, wait--” I start, but he’s already ducked his head underwater and pressing my legs apart.

  I jolt backwards, gripping his shoulder and the rock behind me for support as his tongue and lips go to work on me. He attacks my pussy like he’s holding a grudge, using the tip of his tongue to swirl inside my entrance and trace the line of my slit and then the flat of it to give me the friction I desperately need.

  I’m moaning uncontrollably in seconds, and soon I start to wonder when he’s going to come up for air.

  It seems like a blissful eternity before he pops up, sucks in a big breath of air, and then immediately dives back underwater. He goes back to work, doubling his pace from before and using his fingers to help his tongue now.

  I know he can’t seriously expect me to believe he wouldn’t come up for air until I cum, but I can’t help worrying a little, which is the only thing stopping me from having an orgasm so explosive it’d probably bring this whole cliff down on top of us.

  He plunges two fingers inside me, pumping so quickly that currents of water buffet against me, adding to the cascade of pleasure created by his tongue, lips, and fingers. I feel my orgasm waiting to burst, but I’m getting more and more worried that he must be dying for air.

  Just cum, Mila, I think desperately.

  Thoughts about how crazy this all is skid across my consciousness, but nothing sinks in, nothing carries more weight than the sensation of his touch. They are problems for another time, another life, as far as I’m concerned. Right now there’s only the pleasure. There’s only him.

  I can enjoy this. I can let myself go, even if it’s just for a few days or a week. I deserve this.

  With that last thought, the orgasm that has been building since he first laid hands on me rips through me like an uncaged beast. My legs scissor around his head involuntarily and my entire body spasms. My fingers dig uselessly into the rock and my mouth snaps open in a silent “O” of total and utter bliss. I realize after a few seconds that I’m holding him underwater and quickly release my legs, but my body doesn’t stop shak
ing from the orgasm blasting through me.

  He looks a little breathless, but amused when his head pops above the water. “Damn. You sure as hell took your time, didn’t you? I was starting to think they’d have to put drowned in pussy on my tombstone.”

  6

  Lucas

  Mila and I sit at the water’s edge, letting the warmth of the rocks keep us comfortable against the chill of the lakewater that brushes against our feet. I pick up a smooth, round stone and sidearm it across the glassy water, where it skips several times before finally sinking beneath the blue waters.

  I took Mila back up to the top of the cliff to grab our clothes, but I’m still just wearing my briefs because there’s nothing I hate quite as much as wearing wet jeans. Mila’s got on the pair of leggings and the white blouse she was wearing when I “kidnapped” her from the park, but I my dick stirs every time I remember she doesn’t have any underwear because I shredded them and left them in the lake.

  The sun’s setting somewhere out of view behind all the trees peppering the hilltop to the west, but we have a clear view of the pink and orange sky it’s causing. “Nobody ever said you had to see the sun to enjoy a sunset,” I say.

  “My dad would’ve disagreed,” she says, pulling her knees up to hug her arms around herself. She looks out over the water, looking absolutely beautiful in her vulnerability. Wet hair hangs in softly curling clumps around her pert little face, and I can’t stop looking at those pouty lips. Just the sight of them fills my mind with the memory of how sweet they tasted against mine and the fear that I’ll never be able to stop wanting more.

  So much for mourning my dad.

  Feeling anything but sadness and anger after his death feels like a betrayal, but as much as I try, I can’t keep the happiness from seeping through it all when I’m around Mila.

  “What’s he like?” I ask. “Your dad.”

  She works her lips to the side, watching the water while she thinks. “He’s like the kind of dad most kids probably think they want. Strong. Involved. Respected. You know? All his friends can never stop telling me how lucky I am to have a father like him.”

  “But they’re wrong,” I say, taking a guess.

  “Yeah.” She pulls her legs in tighter, resting her chin on top of her knees. “I shouldn’t even complain. I must sound so obnoxious right now,” she says, suddenly untucking herself and snapping out of the state she was in. “You just lost your father and I’m over here complaining about mine.”

  “No. It’s okay. I asked, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah. I guess you did. It just doesn’t sound that bad when I think about saying it out loud. I mean, he always wanted me to be something else. I guess that’s it. My whole life I knew I wasn’t living up to his expectations. I knew he had all these ideas and dreams and plans for the kind of woman I’d become, and maybe for a while I tried to believe I wanted it too. But I didn’t. I never did. So I guess it was just hard. It was hard to look at my dad, whom I respected and loved, and know I was going to disappoint him, and not because I was doing something bad or wrong, but just because I was going to do what felt like it was right for me.”

  She laughs at herself, shaking her head a little. “Like I said. It’s stupid. Silly, even. He’s a nice man. A good man.”

  “It’s not stupid,” I say. “If we’re being honest, I spent a lot of time idolizing my old man. Feels shitty to say anything but praises after he’s gone, but he wasn’t perfect. You said your old man wanted you to be something you didn’t want to be, I guess I can relate in a way. My brother was always into finances and business and never cared a lick for taking care of the farm. Maybe since my mom had me for the first five years my dad never cared about me as much as my little brother, but it was like he resented me for being the man he wanted him to be.”

  She looks at me strangely, almost like she’s seeing through all the walls I’ve spent years building up. She’s seeing beyond all the bullshit--she’s seeing me for the first time. The real me. The feeling gives me a cold shiver because feeling opened up to her like that makes it seem like I understand her, too. I understand how we’re so fucking different but still the same, and how I could spend a lifetime without ever meeting another woman like her.

  Her eyebrows draw down suddenly and she hops up. “Oh shit. Oh shit!” she yells, putting both hands to her head. “Tonight. I was supposed to work tonight. What time is it?”

  I stand up, nodding toward my truck at the top of the cliff. “Phone’s in the truck. But the sun sets around seven thirty this time of year.” I feel a faint twinge of guilt. Damn. I said I’d meet Cynthia at my place at seven. Knowing her, she probably showed up fifteen minutes early, too. I probably should at least show up.

  We make our way up the hill and the bubble we were in seems to have burst. The silence that comes now isn’t entirely comfortable. I help Mila into the passenger seat of my truck and hop in the driver’s side.

  “Where do you need me to take you for your job?” I ask.

  “The bed and breakfast--Frank and Martha’s,” she adds, as if I don’t know Frank and Martha run a bed and breakfast.

  “No problem,” I say. “I would apologize for making you late for whatever you have to do, but I would do it again if I had the chance.”

  She laughs a little, but there’s something off in the sound of it. I glance over at her and see her watching the trees outside the window roll by with a distant expression.

  Well damn. Did I strike a nerve when we were talking without realizing it?

  I pull up in front of Frank and Martha’s after a quiet drive and throw the truck into park. “I’ll have to kidnap you again sometime,” I say lightly.

  “Yeah,” she says, flashing a smile that fades too quickly to be real.

  “You alright?” I ask as she steps out of the truck and looks back at me through the open window.

  “Yep. Perfect. I really need to go though,” she says, turning without so much as a goodbye and jogging to the front door of Frank and Martha’s.

  I frown after her. Once I see she’s safely inside, I drive off toward my place.

  “What the hell did I do?” I ask out loud, but the only answer is the hum of the truck engine and the whine of worn out shocks as I tear through the darkened town toward my property.

  I’m not surprised to find Cynthia’s car isn’t in the driveway when I get home. It’s half past eight and even she isn’t crazy enough to wait around that long. But there is a car in my driveway. My brother Ronnie’s ridiculously clean, jacked up truck that has probably never been off a paved road since he bought it.

  I find him lounging on my front porch with a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He takes me in as I climb the steps, ashing the cigarette on my porch and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

  “Late night?” he asks.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask.

  “What? Am I not welcome anymore? Dad leaves this place to you and suddenly I can’t even come visit?”

  I open the front door and flick on the lights, wishing he would just get lost. The last thing I want to deal with right now is my whiney little brother. “Was there something you wanted?”

  “There’s a lot I want,” he says, and the pause that follows is enough to give me a chill. I glance over my shoulder at him to find his eyes are set on the starlit fields outside the kitchen window. “A whole hell of a lot, but I guess we don’t all get to have everything, do we?”

  “No,” I say, grabbing a beer from the fridge and offering him one.

  He snags it without a thanks and twists the cap off the bottle. “But we could have it all. You and I.”

  I take a long swig of the beer. “Right. If I sold this place off to some oil company?”

  “Why are you so against it? This is just fucking dirt and wood, Lucas. Yeah we grew up here, but who needs memories when you have more money than God and you can make new ones. Better ones.”

  “I’ve got all the money I need. Give me enough
cash to keep beer in the fridge, pay the bills, and buy a pie down at Mavericks from time to time and I’m fucking golden.”

  He scoffs, pacing around the kitchen. “Sometimes I can’t believe we came from the same DNA pool.” He throws back a long swig of his beer and flicks his cigarette out the open door, where it lands and smolders on the porch. “Look, Lucas. I’m going to be straight with you. I want the ranch. You can either do the smart thing, or you can piss me off and see what happens.”

  “You’re pretty brave to come out here alone at night making threats,” I say, setting my beer down with a loud clank on the counter.

  “Who said I was alone?”

  My eyes catch a flicker of movement outside the window. Maybe it was just a shadow--it’s too dark to say--but something in my gut tells me he’s not bluffing.

  “You hired some thugs to kick the shit out of me?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief. “Doesn’t matter what you do, Ronnie. The ranch stays off the market as long as it’s in my name. And it’s in my name unless I sign it away.”

  “No,” he says with a sick grin. “That’s not entirely true. The ranch stays off the market as long as you’re alive. But hey,” he says, setting his beer down and stepping toward the door. “Accidents happen, right? Just ask dad.”

  “You fucking--” I start toward him, but two men in black flank him at the door, and judging by the way they’re half-reaching for their hips, they’re both carrying guns.

  “Let’s head out,” he says. “I think he got the message for now.”

  Ronnie pauses before getting in his car. “Take some time to think it over. All I want is half. Sell the ranch, give me half, and we’re golden. Or you can keep being a prick. Your choice.”

  “Fuck you,” I growl, stomping on his still-glowing cigarette.

  He mock salutes me and hops into his truck, followed by his black-clothed goons.

  7

  Mila