12. Maeve

TWELVE

MAEVE

I roll over and encounter a scent that isn't mine. It's JW's, except he isn't in bed with me. My hand slides to the pillow next to my own. There's a depression from his head, yet the vibrant floral fabric is cool to the touch. At one point in the middle of the night, I'm pretty sure my body was on top of his. The queen-size bed is perfect for me, but add in a six foot plus muscled man, and well, it makes for tight quarters. JW didn't seem to mind, unless I ran him off with all of the moving I do in my sleep. I sit up, the sheet and comforter dropping to my lap. A shiver races up my spine. Clothes weren't on my mind last night when sleep took me deep into dreamland.

I'm as quiet as a mouse, trying to decipher if JW is still in the house or if he left to head to the ranch. I'm beginning to think that he's gone when my eyes sweep along the space of my room looking for my robe. What I find is JW's discarded shirt instead. I slide out of the bed, bending over to grab the soft cotton and bring it to my nose. A deep blend of JW's earthy cologne washes over me. I slip his shirt over my head, shuffle my feet to the dresser, and grab a pair of panties. Once I have them, I'm ready to head toward the bathroom to take care of my morning business, but my eyes catch on the nightstand.

JW is still here. His keys, wallet, and phone still sit next to my small alarm clock. It's usually set to five o'clock every morning that Whisked Away is open to the public. Seeing as how my usuals are more of a weekender type of customer and there hasn't been much foot traffic lately, I've adjusted my hours. No longer am I getting to the store to sit around, staying completely stocked only to give or throw away pastries. I adjusted my website the other day as well as my social media accounts. I also made sure my current customers knew they could email or message me in order to get ahold of me.

"Baby girl, you gonna come out here or make me go in there?" My jaw slackens. How did he know I was up and moving around? I've been quiet, or I thought I had been. You know how it goes; anytime you're trying to tiptoe around the house, you inadvertently make more noise than necessary. Apparently, I'm not as silent as I think I am.

"Be there in a minute. Gotta go to the bathroom." I stick my head out into the hallway. I've yet to see myself in a mirror, brush my teeth, and I'm sure the state of my hair is reminiscent of a rat's nest.

"Maeve, this won't take but a minute. Need to talk to you before I head back to the ranch." That has me forgetting about what I'd like to do. I slide my panties up my legs, wiggling around until they're in place, then pull his shirt down and head down the hall.

"Coming," I say, finger-combing my hair while I walk. The sun has already risen, sitting high in the sky, and surely, he should already be at the ranch. JW's job and mine are similar in the way we both get up early and ready to start the day. That's where the similarities end, though. I'm able to choose when my workday is done, whereas his never ends. Even at night, there will be calls for a downed fence, an animal giving birth, or anything else that could happen on a ranch.

"Not this morning, you aren't." I stop a few feet away from him. JW is at the small kitchen peninsula, ass on one of the two barstools, which is the only place to eat besides the living room or my bedroom. And absolutely never will I or anyone else eat in my bed. Crumbs are a hard pass, and even when I'm sick, I confine myself to the couch while eating. It's one of my crazy nuances. My older sister says that will change once I have children. We'll see about that .

"Good morning."

JW slouches further back, wearing nothing but his pair of jeans, the top button undone and the zipper only pulled up halfway. His eyes have a lazy appearance to them. He has one arm on the counter, hand around the mug of coffee, while his other is lying on his thigh. What I'm looking at is the smattering of chest hair that leads to the hottest happy trail I've ever seen in real life.

"Mornin', baby girl. You going to come to me or stand there and stare all day?" His fingers tap along the inside of his thigh. I'm unsure what he's thrumming out, a song or morse code.

"I'm not sure. The view is pretty spectacular." My eyes clash with his. He licks his lips in that slow sensual way of his.

"It'd be better if you were closer." It's hard to argue with him. Especially when he sits up straighter and has both hands resting on his thighs now. I walk right to him, wedging myself between his thighs, and I forget how to speak, let alone think. JW's hands wrap around the backs of my thighs. "Mouth, Maeve." With him sitting down and me standing, we're at the perfect level for one another.

"I haven't brushed my teeth." I scrunch up my nose.

"Not worried about that. You've had my cock in your mouth. Kissed you last night, going to kiss you this morning, and morning breath isn't going to deter me." His lips meet mine. There's nothing soft and sweet about this kiss. There's no me kissing him. He's kissing me. It's like last night all over again, a night that lives rent free in my head. The way he calls me ‘baby girl,' the way he controlled the situation. How my orgasms were out of this world and the way he called himself daddy. Jesus, it's hot, and the next time we're in bed together, it's going to me calling him daddy. Me who says those words.

"Wanna take this a fuck of a lot further, Mae. Not going to, not yet at least." His big hands and thick fingers cup the cheeks of my ass, pulling me closer. My hands tangle in the ends of his hair as my forearms rest on his broad shoulders.

"Is there a reason why?" Obviously JW isn't at the ranch to do morning chores, and work is put on the back burner for myself. I feel the tips of his fingers move beneath my bikini-style panties. My thighs clench together. He is building a desire in me that makes me feel part woman and part nymphomaniac.

"Yeah, I don't have enough time to get started on something we can't finish. I think you get I like to have control. You okay with that?" he asks.

"I think last night proves I more than am." His lips lift in a smirk at my response.

"In bed and in life, Maeve. I like it in every sense of the word." I suck my lips into my mouth, thinking about his words and what they'll mean for me .

"Can you elaborate? Will I lose myself and quit being me, or will there be parts where this is a partnership?" My fingers stop their ministrations as my body locks up tight. There are deal breakers. I won't settle, and I won't allow myself to be a doormat either.

"Fuck no, you'll be you. The way you've always been. There will be times you'll yield to me. One of those will be you're not closing your shop. I've made a few calls. Shit gets worse and you need money to stay afloat, we'll talk about it. I may not have given you my cock the way I've dreamed of, but you gave me a gift last night." I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. "Baby girl, you don't have to tell me. I know that was your first time having your lips wrapped around a cock, my cock, and I know there's more to you than meets the surface. I look forward to unwrapping everything that's you."

He has stunned me speechless. The woman who cusses worse than a sailor, who can talk to a brick wall, is at a loss for words a-freaking-gain. He's expecting a response, he deserves a response, yet I'm just over here locked up in my own head. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, finally forming a few coherent words. "Alright. And the other part of last night, the one where you called yourself daddy, how's that going to play out?"

"That's for you and me, it stays in the bedroom, and you only say it when you're ready. I'll say this: felt how you worked my cock harder when you heard me, saw the wildcat come alive, and I'm looking forward to watching and feeling you again." My knees weaken, my nipples pebble, and I whimper. For the love of all things holy, can I not be a mess for one minute?

"My baby girl likes the word daddy . Fuck yeah." JW does his thing, kissing me stupid, and he's sure taking his time.