Sex in the Sticks
So until it's time for me to pack up my hiking boots and head back to civilization, I'm going to consider this an extended vacation, and my blog entries will be more focused on perhaps how this monogamous relationship with this Alaskan wild man compares to others I've had with city men.
Are they apples and apples, or apples and oranges?
It's a good experiment, don't you think?
Signing off now and going to crawl back into bed with that big muscular body.
Oh, and it doesn't hurt that he has a really good Wi-Fi connection. I guess there are some benefits to being the police chief.
Chapter 17
Valentine
"This is really making me nervous," I tell Logan as my fingers curl into a death grip.
"You're doing fine," he says encouragingly.
"Not nervous," I clarify. "I'm scared. Like really scared."
Logan laughs and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It's just to the end of my driveway, Valentine. A hundred yards. Piece of cake."
"So says the man who's been driving for two decades," I grumble.
"Ouch, that makes me feel old," he grumbles back.
I put aside my fears and turn slightly in the driver's seat to look at him. I slide a palm to his cheek and tell him with all sincerity, "At thirty-seven, Logan Burke, you are without a doubt the sexiest man I have ever been with."
And that's the God's honest truth. It's a comparison I'll have to totally devote a blog article to, because there is something to be said about a man with experience. I've been at Logan's house for four days now, and I've had the best sex of my life in those four days compared to all the other times combined. I actually could do a month-long blog series just on how good Logan is and insist on my female readers to get their men to read the articles to teach them something.
But even as I think these things, a weird feeling creeps up inside of me that makes me a little nauseated. I'm not sure what it is, but the one thing that pops into my mind is that I don't want to share those details about Logan with other women. It would totally take away how special it is.
But that's neither here nor there, and I have some time to think about it. For now, my foot is mashed hard on the brake even though his truck is still in park. I would have preferred to have my first driving lesson in his Jeep, which is much smaller, but he told me it was a manual shift and that would be too difficult.
Of course, I had asked, "What's a manual shift?"
Logan had howled with laughter and led me over to his big truck.
To his credit, he gave me a lot of instruction before this moment.
I'm still scared shitless.
"Really, Logan," I implore. "I don't need to know how to drive. I live in New York."
"Yeah," he says with a dimpled smile. He had shaved this morning. "But you could totally fall in love with Alaska and decide to stay. Then you'd need to know how to drive."
I grin back at him. "Yeah, but I'd just have you drive me everywhere."
"I totally don't have time to be your chauffeur," he assures me with a smirk.
"Not even if I deep throated you every time you gave me a lift?" I taunt him, and God...the way those light blue eyes go denim dark just from those words has me squeezing my legs together.
Logan leans across the cab closer to me and kisses my neck. "You know what I want to know?" he asks, his voice all sexy and husky.
"What's that?" I whisper back, wondering if we can have sex in his truck before we leave.
"I want to know if you can take me down your throat while you're riding my face," he says smoothly.
And I want to know that answer too. Logan and I have done a lot of different positions these past four days, but we haven't tried sixty-nine like that yet.
"Wanna go find out?" I murmur.
His eyes go darker but he moves back over into his seat, adjusting his erection. "Fuck yes, I want to go find out, but we have to be at the town square in fifteen minutes. Now will you just drive to the end of the driveway and I'll take over from there."
I sigh and cautiously pull the gearshift down to put the truck in drive as he'd instructed me. I find it hilarious that the most crazy, scary thing facing me right now is driving down a gravel driveway, and not the fact that Logan just casually dropped I could potentially live in Alaska one day permanently and I didn't even balk at the idea.
--
There are many things I've come to appreciate about East Merritt, but my favorite--after Logan--most definitely is their annual Moose Festival. This would beat out The Wounded Caribou and Ted's crazy story of how he named it just marginally, but I can't deny that I'm completely excited about this weekend's festivities.
Tomorrow there's going to be the Moose Poop Drop.
Yes. The Moose Poop Drop.
It's to raise money for the town and is quite a popular event. Apparently, there's a large field that sits about a mile outside of town that's the size of at least five football fields. Just yesterday, it was mowed and then marked into a large grid with spray paint. Each square is worth twenty dollars. Town residents buy as many squares as they want, and if all squares are purchased, it could raise ten thousand dollars for the town. I feel completely guilty because I'd spend that amount on a weekend shopping spree, but this money is a lot to this town and could make great improvements in their lives. Logan told me yesterday the money was already earmarked to put in playground equipment at the small park in East Merritt, as well as help to buy computers for the school.
So tomorrow the great Moose Poop Drop is going to happen. A trunkful of petrified moose feces will be flown in a small plane above the East Merritt field and dumped. One of those pieces has been spray painted gold, and whichever square it lands in, the person who bought it gets half of the money. The other half goes to the town.
I bought ten squares myself.
Tonight, however, Logan--as mayor of this town--will kick off the festivities. He wasn't lying when he said there wasn't much to his job as mayor, but this is one of them. So, true to his word, I drove at two miles per hour down his driveway with my hands sweating, and then he drove the rest of the way into town.
He's standing on a small platform that's been built on the town square and is set up for a band to play later. Tonight is a dance and barbecue, and the whole town is expected to turn out. My experiences have been so limited to those people I've met in The Wounded Caribou that I'm eager to learn more about the residents here.
A huge crowd has gathered before the platform, but I stand at the back. I'm a visitor and Logan isn't my mayor or my police chief. He's just my...man?
Yes, he's my man, but he's up there now in official capacity and he's talking to his people.
Leaning in close to the microphone to address the town, he's just still very much Logan: gorgeous, outgoing, charming. "Okay, folks. It's good to see so many of you come out tonight. We've got smokers going on over there"--he points off to the side where Ted is overseeing the cooking--"and in about an hour the Jeff Crool Band will be performing for us. It's a time for us to come together, relax, and be neighborly. East Merritt is a hardworking town, and this is the weekend we can just have fun together. I know the alcohol will be free flowing, but let's keep the fights to a minimum, okay? I'd like to enjoy the evening too."
And his eyes come right to me when he says that, and I in turn get butterflies in my stomach, which is something that has never happened in my life. I've never had a man look at me in such a way as to cause that type of reaction, and I have the insane urge to run up on stage and hug him.
Just hug him.
Wrap my arms around his big body, knowing he'll do the same. He'll even bend his head and nuzzle his cheek against my temple. He's done it before and it feels fucking phenomenal.
I shake my head and take an involuntary step backward, my hand coming to rest over my chest. My heart is racing, and for one crazy moment I wonder if this is what it feels like to fall for someone.
It's never happened to me be
fore, so I can't be sure. I might need to ask Jeremy and he'll tease me ruthlessly, but whatever. I need to know because if that's the case, then I'm in deep trouble. I'm not ready for this to happen.
"Penny for the thoughts going around in that beautiful head right now," Logan says with his lips near my ear. He had come up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and making a very public display of affection toward me. He'd been doing this all week whenever we came to town and it didn't bother me.
It totally didn't bother me at all.
I lean back into him and note with amazement at myself that this feels actually pretty damn good.
Another distinction for me to note. My past experiences with men were well planned out dates, impressive meals, words designed to get in my pants--some worked, some didn't--and usually hot, sweaty sex, where sadly most of the men didn't care whether I got off. A public display of affection may be holding hands as we walk into the Met for a gala, or a kiss on the cheek in greeting.
Not, Logan, though.
He touches me all the time. Looks at me all the time. Sometimes sweet, sometimes with filthy intent. He lives his life spontaneously and that includes my place in it.
Maybe he comes home from work and says, "Get your dancing boots on, Valentine. Let's head into Ketchikan for some fun."
Or he may walk in the door, push me up against the wall, and jerk my pants down around my ankles so he can tongue me to a quick orgasm.
Jesus...he's like the perfect man.
"Valentine?" he inquires, this time turning me around in his arms so he can see my face. When he does, his brows knit in concern. "Are you okay? You're pale as a ghost."
I shake my head, step into him, and bury my face in his chest. His arms come around me again and he squeezes, and my heart starts thumping hard again.
I'm in deep, deep trouble.
Chapter 18
Logan
Valentine lets out a huge yawn as she steps through the front door. Sassy's there to greet her, jumping and yapping for attention. Valentine bends down and picks her up, nuzzling her neck. "Did you miss your mommy?"
I duck my head so Valentine doesn't see my eye roll. She treats that dog like a baby and it's sort of ridiculous. I've tried to get on board with liking the little fluff ball, but frankly, it's kind of useless. It eats, it sleeps, and it shits in the grass, and I'm usually the one walking it because I live outside of the town limits in the woods, and Valentine's really afraid a bear will eat her dog.
I grab Sassy's little leash I'd bought at the general store and snap it onto her collar as Valentine holds her. When it's secure, I take the dog from her and mutter, "Come on, fuzz ball. Let's go get your business done."
"Thanks," Valentine say softly, and I turn to see her watching me with a sweet, grateful smile. "I know you're not crazy about my dog, but thank you for walking her for me."
"I'm not crazy about your dog because she jumped up on the bed the other night while I was fucking you and licked my ass," I grumble.
Valentine laughs, and I love the way those green eyes light up with amusement. It never takes much to get her to laugh and I love that about her. "It just shows you how much she likes you. And besides, it surprised you so much you slammed in really deep and that felt really good. I'm personally all for Sassy doing that again."
I snort and then walk out the door. It's true.., the dog freaked me out so much that my hips punched forward and Valentine actually cried out. I thought I hurt her, but then her hands were on my ass and she was encouraging me to do it again. I found out that night--begrudging thanks to Sassy's tongue on my ass--that Valentine can take it rough and she likes it that way too.
So I guess I owe the dog something.
Fuck it's been awhile since I've experienced the thrill of having a woman who is adventurous and sexually confident. That's not just because there's a serious lack of options in this area, but it's also because for sex to be really good, there's got to be some level of trust in the other person. I mean, Valentine had to implicitly trust I wasn't going to hurt her when I handcuffed her.
And when you have trust in your bed, it makes sex beyond phenomenal.
The shitty thing is, I have no clue how much longer I'll have this.
After Sassy does her business, I take her inside and make sure her water bowl is filled. While the dog is drinking, I quickly slip down the hallway and into my bedroom, where I find Valentine already naked and lying on top of the covers.
I shut the door and she quirks an eyebrow at me. "Are you seriously locking my dog out of the room?"
"Yup." I grin at her as I strip down. Valentine watches my every move, not an ounce of shame in ogling me, particularly my dick. It likes Valentine looking at it and it starts to come to attention to impress her.
"Let Sassy in here," she says as she lifts her gaze to me.
"Not until after I fuck you," I tell her. "My ass feels vulnerable when that dog's in here."
Valentine bursts out laughing and I crawl onto the bed and up her body. Settling myself gently between her hips, I bend down to give her a kiss. She opens up for me in all ways. Her legs spread wider and my cock can feel the wetness of her pussy, and her arms come around my shoulders to pull me closer. Valentine's mouth is hungry and seeking, and the kiss is the type that you want to last for hours.
But even though I'd love nothing more than to bury myself deep inside of her, I pull my mouth from hers and say, "We have to talk."
"Seriously," she exclaims. "You get me hot, bothered, wet...you can feel I'm wet, right...and you want to talk?"
I grin at her before I kiss her nose. "You're adorable."
When I roll to the side, she makes a sound of protest and glares at me. "Sex first, talk later."
"Talk first, sex later," I counter.
She growls at me. "You're such a girl."
I narrow my eyes at her and growl right back at her. "You are so going to pay for that. When I get done with you, you'll be walking funny and you'll never call me a girl again."
Valentine laughs and scoots in closer to me. "Okay, we can talk first, but can we touch while we're talking?"
"Sure, why not?" I agree, because who doesn't love long, slow strokes over skin.
Valentine's hand immediately goes to my cock and she gets off one stroke before I'm grabbing her to pull her hand away. "Not that type of touching. I can't concentrate when you're doing that."
She snickers and looks at me innocently. "Sorry."
"Okay, so listen...we haven't really talked about your plans, like if you've got a set date when you're going to leave or what, but I need you to know that I've actually got a planned vacation coming up week after next."
"Oh," she says in surprise, and this implies that she has still planned on being here. Otherwise, she would have said something like, "No problem. I'll be long gone by then."
"I'm going home to Seattle for a week," I tell her. "To visit the family."
Valentine looks at me in confusion. "Do you want me to go back to Sarah's?"
"God no," I tell her quickly. "You can stay here for as long as you want, but honestly, I brought it up to see if you'd like to go with me to Seattle. My family is really cool. They're quirky and funny and they'll probably try to prank you, but it will be harmless, I promise. I think you'd have a good time."
I get no reaction from Valentine. Her face is blank, as if she didn't understand a single thing I said. She just stares at me, then her eyes sort of cloud with confusion.
"What's wrong?" I ask. "Too weird I asked you to go home with me? I mean...it's a casual invite. It's not like the family is going to think we're engaged or anything."
Valentine immediately shakes her head and places her hand on my chest. "No, that's not it."
"Then what is it?" I ask.
"It's this concept of family and fun," she says, and then grins mischievously. "I mean...I've heard a rumor that some families are like that, but I've never really thought it was true. They'll really try to prank me?" br />
I laugh in relief and utter delight that Valentine has a deep appreciation for the likes of my family. It also makes me slightly sad it is truly foreign to her. "They're great. I promise."
"Then I'd love to come," she says as she scoots in a little closer to me. "Week after next, right?"
"Right," I confirm. "Which I'm guessing that means you'll be staying for a bit longer."
"Well," she says slyly as her hand starts trailing down my chest to my stomach, causing my muscles to clench in hungry anticipation. "I'm having a lot of fun here with you."
My hand latches on to her wrist, stopping its descent. "Did you have fun tonight?"
I think she did. We danced and ate barbecue and drank beers and laughed with people. Valentine was a natural at it all, and while she still has a lot of men looking at her like lovesick puppies, you can tell the people of East Merritt like her.
Valentine smiles at me. "It was the most fun I've had in a really, really long time, Logan. Thanks for inviting me."
"My pleasure," I tell her, and then I push her hand down so she's taking my cock. She strokes it lightly, teasing the tip with her thumb. I roll over on my back and put my hands behind my head, but I watch her hand on me. Soft, gentle...loving.
"I love your touch," I tell her.
She smiles at me and leans over, placing her lips on my stomach. She gives me a soft kiss before looking back up at me, her hand still gently sliding along my shaft. "Sometimes I think your body was built for mine."
"We do fit together nicely," I tell her as I bring a hand out from under my head to thread my fingers in her hair.
She nods, her hand straying down to my balls where she rakes her nails gently over the skin there. I involuntarily slide my legs apart and she doesn't hesitate, running her finger along the delicate skin behind my ball sack.
I groan from the touch and she grins at me wickedly. "Looks like I've got somewhere new to play."
"Later," I say gruffly as I grab her hand and pull it away. Then I have her by the hips and I'm pulling her up my chest, easing her into a straddle.
"What are we doing?" she asks, her eyes bright with interest.
I slide my body down just a bit and put my hands to her ass, pushing at her to climb higher up my chest.