Sex in the Sticks

  My arm flies out and I place one palm against his headboard to help keep me in place because I want to feel every single, slamming inch without giving up any ground.

  "That's it, Valentine," Logan groans as he punches his hips in. "Brace yourself, baby, because I'm getting ready to make this pussy mine."

  "Oh, God," I moan, because I never would have taken Logan for such a dirty talker. I've had men that have tried it before, and yeah...it's a turn-on. But when a man like Logan who rescues puppies and me from certain death tells me that he's getting ready to own my body in the dirtiest of ways, it causes another orgasm to start to bubble.

  "Jesus you're tight," he says through what sounds like gritted teeth. "You're strangling my cock and I fucking love it."

  "Damn, Logan," I say as I pant between hard thrusts. "You're such a good dirty talker."

  "I've got more where that comes from," he says on a chuckle, and then fucks me harder.

  Grunts, groans, slaps of flesh, and I manage to gasp, "I'm going to come again."

  This causes Logan to fuck me faster, his balls slapping against me, the entire bed rocking back and forth like a ship in a turbulent storm. His headboard cracks against the wall, and then Logan merely slides his hand from my hip to between my legs, gives my clit a little pinch, and I go off again like a rocket as I scream out his name.

  He seems to like this because he slams into me one more time, pushes me down into the mattress, and then grinds against me as he unloads.

  "Oh, fuck...Valentine...God that feels good," he pants in my ear as he continues to rotate his hips against my ass, both of us wringing out every last little tremor of pleasure that we can.

  I'm wrecked.

  Possibly beyond repair.

  The only other thing I remember is Logan rolling us to our sides, his cock still wedged in deep, and I still feel so full as his arms wrap around me.

  I close my eyes and fall back asleep.

  Valentine's Couch: Blog Entry

  July 10 (Part 1)

  I Almost Died...In More Ways Than One

  I'm not trying to be dramatic here, but I'm not lying. I almost died last night. You see, I acted the foolish city girl and rushed off into the woods to find Sassy, who had run away.

  More than five hours later, the sun had gone down, I was freezing to death, and was convinced I was about to meet my maker.

  Instead, I met, you guessed it, East Merritt's chief of police again. Seems he had a search party out for me, and he was the one who in fact found me.

  Remember when I told you about those eyes and that killer smile and...

  Well, go read my last article about him and then add to that the fact that he is about the sweetest, most caring person I've met here. He took me to his house, made sure I had a hot bath (alone, ladies...get your mind out of the gutter), and fed me. He then insisted I sleep in his bed, and I'm not going to lie...I was exhausted. I dropped off into a hard sleep.

  And I almost died again this morning, because I found the chief in the bed with me, all snuggled up and giving me his body heat. Wow, was it nice, and you know me...I couldn't help wiggling in a little closer.

  This sort of started things between us, and well...he is amazing.

  You know I don't kiss and tell, but...

  Oh, fuck that...you totally know I kiss and tell, mainly to embarrass my filthy rich, snooty family that can't stand my blog, but whatever.

  I came four times this morning, and I have been subjected to the biggest dick I've ever seen. It's magnificent. He's magnificent. It seems that the type of man I'd envisioned out here in the wilds of Alaska is not just a myth. Things truly are bigger here.

  Now I haven't done enough research to know if the chief is an anomaly or not, but honestly, I'm all for continued research into this to see if I can tell. We have a date tonight. Of course, I had to cancel my afternoon date with the fisherman, who was going to teach me how to catch salmon, but I'm sorry...you know I'm good, but not good enough to handle two men in one day.

  I'll report more, but right now I'm going to take a nice long shower--with pleasant memories of last night--and then I think I might just chill today. After all, I almost died...twice.

  I should rest up.

  Chapter 12

  Logan

  I can't help the swagger in my step as I enter The Wounded Caribou for breakfast. I had fucking amazing sex this morning, I'm hungry as a bear, and I'm looking forward to seeing Valentine again tonight. We made plans to go to Ketchikan for dinner, and then, well, who knows what we'll do.

  My dick tightens because it definitely has ideas as to what it wants to do.

  God, this morning was amazing. Stupendous. Hardest orgasm I can recall having in a damn long time.

  And Valentine? She took every bit of me into that sweet body, rearing her ass backward onto me to meet my thrusts and...

  Shit...I do not need a hard-on now. I was blessed with a big cock, but it's hard to hide when it decides to wake up.

  To my surprise, I see Ted behind the bar and make my way there. I normally take a booth for breakfast, but I don't feel like suffering Darla's look of betrayal that I didn't arrest Valentine for assault the other night. She's sent me two strongly worded emails, both of which I've ignored.

  I take a stool and Ted heads my way with a brimming pot of coffee.

  "What are you doing here this morning?" I ask as he turns over a mug before me and fills it to almost the rim. I drink mine black and don't need any extra room.

  "There's a big fishing party renting out those cabins near Mure Lake and they called yesterday to know if we did breakfast. Seems they're tired of camp food, so they're going to be in before too long. Needed the extra hands."

  "Gotcha," I say with a nod. "And I'll take a stack of pancakes and some bacon."

  Ted turns to the kitchen, sticks his head through the window, and gives my order to the cook, and then comes out to stand across the bar from me. He leans his elbows on the wooden top. "Heard you had some major excitement last night."

  Not as exciting as this morning.

  "Yeah...Valentine took off after that damn dog of hers and got lost in the woods. She was out there a good five hours before we found her."

  Ted grimaces. "Not good. People don't get how dangerous it is out there."

  "Well, I'm sure she won't be making that mistake again," I tell him with a grin.

  Chuckling, Ted gives an amused shake of his head. "That girl has had some adventure. Dating all the boys, getting arrested by you--"

  "I didn't arrest her," I correct.

  "--getting rescued by you in the woods," he continues.

  I shrug and sip my coffee.

  "Word is she stayed at your house last night," Ted says slyly.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake, Ted," I growl at him. "She was hypothermic and my house was close by. I put her in a hot bath, fed her chili, and sent her to bed."

  And fucked her hard the next morning.

  "Put her in a bath?" Ted asks while waggling his eyebrows at me.

  "You are so juvenile," I grumble.

  Ted laughs and walks off to refill coffees for those sitting up at the bar. A few other guys come in, both stools to my left and right filling up.

  "What's up, Chief?" Chris Fields says from my right.

  I tip my head up at him. "Not much. You?"

  "Marilyn's pissed at me and refused to cook me breakfast this morning, so here I am," he says but it's with good nature. He and his wife, Marilyn, fight all the time, but they always make up. "Heard our newest tourist got lost last night in the woods."

  I nod, not surprised in the least that everyone knows of poor Valentine's adventures. "We got lucky and found her before any damage could be done."

  Chris nods in agreement.

  "Yeah...hate to lose that luscious little piece," I hear from my right, and turn to see Gavin Smee next to me. He's a logger and an asshole. I grit my teeth and hold my tongue.

  "She is a pretty little thing," Chris says from
my right, but his tone is respectful. "I heard she put on quite a show the other night, though."

  Gavin slaps a hand on top of the bar and says, "You should have seen it, Chris. That girl was gyrating, shaking that ass and tits all over the place. I'm surprised her clothes didn't come off."

  "Why don't you shut the fuck up," I growl as my head snaps to Gavin. "Have some respect."

  Gavin holds his hands up. "Ease up, Logan. You saw her dancing too. You know I'm telling the truth and I wasn't the only one who had his tongue out panting. She's a girl that likes the attention of men."

  And thus is the problem of living in an area with a bunch of mannerless, horny men who don't get laid often enough.

  "I heard she's been on a few dates already and she's not even been here a week," Chris says. "My wife heard that from Percy at the post office who heard it from Leslie at the general store."

  I roll my eyes, sip my coffee...try to block them out.

  Gavin leans forward a bit, then toward me, so he can address Chris sitting on my other side. He lowers his voice as if this is the biggest secret in the world and says, "She's got a date with Mike this afternoon to go fishing, a date with Cory Warden on Tuesday night, Rob Chambers on Wednesday, and Sam McEathren on Friday night."

  "Guess that leaves Thursday night open," Chris says with a chuckle as he shakes his head.

  I, of course, felt my anger starting to rise by the time I heard about her Tuesday night date. When I'd asked Valentine out to dinner tonight, she had sheepishly told me she'd made plans to go fishing with Mike this afternoon, but her smile then brightened as she told me that she would gladly cancel those plans to spend the evening with me.

  I had no clue, though, she'd already had three more dates lined up for the rest of the week. She certainly didn't mention it to me either before or after I fucked her. I'm thinking that night she was dancing on the tabletops had yielded quite a few date requests and acceptances before I arrived.

  Goddamn that pisses me off.

  I told her I didn't do hookups. She pretty much said the same. Add that the utterly fucking amazing sex we had, a date the very next night whereby she had to cancel a date with someone else, and I was pretty damn sure we were exclusive. I mean, we didn't have that exact conversation, but surely it was a given.

  Right?

  My thoughts are broken when Ted slides a plate of pancakes in front of me, the buttery sweet smell along with the salty bacon actually turning my stomach. I pull out my wallet, nab a ten-dollar bill, and throw it down onto the counter before I slide off the stool.

  "Where you going?" Ted asks, his expression confused.

  "Not hungry," I mutter, and walk out of The Wounded Caribou.

  --

  The first text from Valentine came in at around three thirty in the afternoon. It was playful and sweet, and because I was driving I had to pull over to read it.

  Can't wait to see you tonight. And I mean all of you.

  Yeah, my dick jumped, but I threw my cell on the passenger seat and pulled back onto the road, not bothering to respond. I'll be damned if I'm going to spend my hard-earned money on a nice dinner for Valentine--potential fucking later aside--if her agenda is to do the same with all the men in this town.

  Her first call came in at 6:15 P.M. and I didn't answer my phone. I did, however, listen to her voice mail. I was sitting at The Wounded Caribou eating a burger for dinner.

  So, I thought we had agreed you'd pick me up at six p.m., but maybe I was wrong. If I'm wrong, see you soon. If I'm not, hope everything is okay. Call me.

  Her second call came in around seven p.m. I was actually at the station by then, doing some paperwork that had accumulated the last few days. I also ignored it but listened to the voice mail.

  I have no clue what's going on, but I'm assuming our dinner date is off. It would have been nice of you to let me know that, though. And even though I'm mad at you, I'm also really worried. Please just call me and let me know what's going on, or call me to tell me to fuck off. One or the other.

  I almost called her back and told her to fuck off, but that's just plain rude. Of course, it was rude of me to ignore her, but I'm still too angry to talk to her. Hopefully I'll calm down by tomorrow and will actually head over to Sarah's, collect my two jackets I loaned her, and tell her I'm more of an exclusive relationship type of guy but I wish her the best in whatever type of record she's trying to set with the men in East Merritt.

  I get lost in my work. While East Merritt is generally a peaceful town, long work hours and alcohol make for trouble. Mostly fights, some destruction of property, and the occasional theft or robbery from some bad seeds who come to town. Court cases are heard once a month over in Ketchikan and it's my job to be there with my reports and to testify as to what my investigation revealed on these matters.

  I'm deep into refreshing myself about the case between Jimmy Hightower and Ralph Sommersby. They got into a fight because Jimmy cut down a tree that he believed was on his property and Ralph believed it was on his. Jimmy got a black eye. Ralph got a busted lip. Both insisted on assault charges being filed against the other.

  My phone rings, startling me. I glance at the caller ID, expecting it would be Valentine, but it's actually Leslie from the general store. I answer it pleasantly, even though I'm feeling anything but. "Good evening, Leslie."

  "Hey, Logan," she says in that raspy voice that denotes she smoked unfiltered cigarettes for decades. "Sarah and I are handling the final details on the Wild Wilderness Woman Contest and wanted to make sure that you're still going to be a judge if we need you."

  I hold in the sigh of dread, but instead tell her as pleasantly as I can, "Of course. Told you I'd be there."

  "Awesome," she says, and then I hear her suck in a deep drag on a cigarette. After she blows it out she says, "I also made you some of those blondie bars you love and I was going to drop them by. You at home?"

  "Nah...I'm at the station," I tell her with a tiny bit of excitement, because those blondie bars are fucking excellent. "Should be here for a few more hours if you want to drop them by."

  And this will be the highlight of my day.

  "Sure thing," she rasps.

  "Thanks, Leslie," I tell her gratefully. "You're a doll."

  She just laughs and hangs up.

  I tip my head down to continue reading the report, and about three minutes later, the front door of the police station opens. I lean forward in my chair expecting to see Leslie walk in. My chest tightens when I see it's Valentine and she looks pissed.

  She stalks through the lobby and into my office, leaning over and slamming her palms on my desk. My cup that holds my pens rattles.

  I cock an eyebrow at her. "I'm assuming you just coerced Leslie and Sarah into finding out where I was, right?"

  "Well, what did you expect when you wouldn't return my calls?" she sneers at me.

  My stomach rumbles in disappointment that I won't be getting any of Leslie's blondie bars, but my chest still constricts at seeing Valentine in front of me. She has on a cream cable knit sweater, dark jeans, and hiking boots. Her hair is pulled back into a long ponytail that hangs down her back, and with her fleece vest, she actually looks like she might belong.

  "So what can I do for you?" I ask her pleasantly as I lean back in my chair and kick my feet up on the desk.

  I swear I can see flames sizzling in her pupils and her hands curl into fists. I bet she'd be fucking glorious in the sack having pissed off makeup sex, but I'm certainly not entertaining that thought.

  Not seriously anyway.

  Valentine narrows her eyes at me but her voice is quite calm when she asks, "I want to know why you didn't bother to show up for our date and didn't bother to respond to my texts and voice mails to find out why."

  I shrug nonchalantly. "Didn't think it would be that big of a deal, honestly."

  I expect her to come at me with claws bared, and fuck me...that sort of turns me on, but instead her face falls and the fire dies instantly in
her eyes. In its place is pure, unfiltered hurt, and that catches me totally off guard.

  Valentine doesn't say a word, but merely nods before walking out of my office. I'm stunned there's not going to be a fight, or that she's not giving me the opportunity to give her the explanation she so adamantly demanded just seconds ago.

  "I didn't think it was that big of a deal because you already had plenty of other dates lined up," I call at her retreating back.

  She halts right in place just outside my office door and turns to look at me in confusion. "What?"

  "Your other dates," I say as I pull my feet off my desk and stand up.

  "I already told you I'd cancel that date this afternoon with Mike and I did," she says.

  "But what about Tuesday's date with Cory Warden, Wednesday's with Rob Chambers, and Friday's with Sam McEathren?" I ask, and I can't help the slight sneer in my tone. Now I'm able to validate my actions.

  She blinks at me several times before saying, "I have no clue what you're talking about."

  I snort in disbelief. "I heard all about it this morning at The Wounded Caribou. You apparently accepted several dates that night you were tearing up the tops of the tables, and, darling, I told you I don't do hookups. That's apparently your thing, but it's not mine."

  Valentine steps back into my office and I can see the wounded look is gone, replaced again by heated anger. "So let me get this straight, you heard some people talking in The Wounded Caribou--and let's just call it gossip because that's exactly what it is--and you chose to believe that I'd made dates to go out with men this week?"

  "Well, it wouldn't have been the first time you'd booked several dates in one week," I point out.

  "True enough," she says as she inclines her head to me. "But that was also before I let you fuck me with your big dick this morning and made a date with you this evening, for which I canceled a standing date. I think that sort of says something about me, don't you? That I'm not into hookups either?"

  "But you made plans to go out with those men," I say, getting back to the subject. "Are you saying you've canceled them as well, because that's not what I heard just this morning."

  Valentine gives me a look that says, You poor, pathetic, misguided, and ill-advised bastard.

  "My advice to you in the future, Logan, is not to take stock in gossip. Perhaps go to the source and find out the truth for yourself. But just so there's no doubt, I did not make any dates with any men for this week. I may have been drunk and having a great time that night, but I'm not stupid. I don't make any choices when I've had alcohol in my system. I did have several men ask me out but I declined them all. Had you bothered to just ask me that, we could have saved a whole lot of frustration, anger, and disappointment."