The Lumberfox (Geekrotica) (6 page)

BOOK: The Lumberfox (Geekrotica)
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Horrible. Cold. Lonely. Scared.

But instead of the worst night of her life, she could honestly admit it had been the best.

“Is it sparkly?” She turned to look at the deliciously sleepy man under the covers, blue eyes smiling at her. “I like it when it's all sparkly and untouched.”

“Oh, yeah. It sparkles more than unicorn spunk shot out of a glitter cannon.”

He laughed and stretched, showing his tatts by light of day and the line of dark hair running down his chest. Damn, but the man was practically perfect.

“Can I fix you breakfast, then? Some cocoa?”

She grinned and nodded.

Yep, he was perfect.

* * *

Breakfast was waffles, and it was goddamn delicious. Being snowed in with a chef had its perks. They passed a nearly flawless day, playing Scrabble in two pairs of his pajamas and reading and watching an Adventure Time marathon. Lunch was grilled cheese, and she would've screwed his brains out based on his grilled cheese prowess alone. Oddly, though, Ryon hadn't made any moves on her all day. He touched her arm in passing, obligingly let her fall across his lap on the couch, and tidied up a dab of powdered sugar off her lip using his thumb, but there was nothing approaching the intimacy and raw passion they'd experienced last night. Tara was beginning to worry that by light of day, he was regretting being trapped with her.

When he disappeared into his room and reappeared with a basket of dirty clothes, her hopes fell. All was apparently back to normal, and normal was boring and sad.

“Do you want to wash your stuff?”

Tara looked down. She'd completely forgotten she was still wearing his pajamas, the pants rolled up at the ankles and his shirt baggy and smelling enticingly of boy.

“Oh. Um. Sure.”

“Good. I already gathered everything up. Want to come with?”

She shrugged and followed him down the hall and into the elevator. He wouldn't really look directly at her, and he didn't even touch her. Feeling hurt and sorry for herself, she couldn't help looking at the place where he'd first kissed her, right there against the mirrored wall. They went past the lobby and into the basement, where he tossed all her clothes, some of his, and the sheets from last night into a washer with soap.

Even the sheets? Ouch.

“Remind me to come back in an hour,” he said as he left his basket on top of the machine, and it just felt so goddamn impersonal.

As she followed him back up the hall to the elevator, she couldn't help watching his butt and sighing. What had happened? Where had it taken a wrong turn? Did she talk in her sleep or have horrible morning breath, heaven help her... did she fart in her sleep? Chew with her mouth open? Or maybe this was just a one-night stand and he was too much of a gentleman to kick her out into the Snowpocalypse alone, even if he regretted getting entangled with her by the garish light of morning?

The worst part was that she'd trusted him, trusted the comfort she felt with him. Trusted what he made her feel. Even things that should have been scary weren't. It was like he had never been a stranger... until now. Knowing the amazing heights they could reach together and how very much was left to explore only made it all the sadder that as soon as he could do so in good conscience, he would send her packing with a once-used Han Solo as her only companion.

As they waited for the elevator, she looked down at the floor feeling like an idiot. “So thanks for taking me in. I'll be out of your hair as soon as the roads are clear. And if I owe you anything, for the food or whatever, just let me know.”

Ryon went deadly still.

“What did you just say?”

She couldn't quite meet his eyes. “It's just... I know I'm being an imposition, and I'm sorry. I don't want to mess up your routine.”

The elevator dinged, and they stepped in. She pressed 14, and her stomach flipped as it rose, but not in the good way.

And then Ryon's palm slammed into the stop button.

Tara looked up at him, mouth open in surprise as the car shuddered to a stop. His cheeks were red as he ran a hand through his not-quite-perfectly mussed hair.

“How could you possibly be an imposition? I'd rather be trapped with you than alone in a fucking palace.”

Tara's heart started to crack open like melting carbonite.

“Seriously?”

His hand cupped her jaw, warm and sure. “Deadly serious.”

“Then why have you barely touched me or looked at me since we woke up? I keep trying to figure out what I did...”

Ryon chuckled and looked down, rubbing his beard wryly.

“You safed out, darlin'. That means I don't touch you. Not that way.”

Tara's jaw dropped. “Seriously? Fuck! I didn't know that was permanent! I mean... um... Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice? Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be. What's the opposite of a Wookiee? Like, a Gungan? I hereby unsafe. Nega-wookiee.”

The air in the elevator was suddenly charged and warm, and Ryon took a deep breath.

“That works,” he whispered, and then he had her pinned to the mirrored wall again, his tongue pushing past her lips with no gentleness, only need, only want.

And it was exactly what she'd been waiting for all morning. Lust shot through her, and her arms shot around his neck, and when he edged her into the corner and pressed his hips against hers, she could've died with happiness. It was the fiercest kiss they'd shared, and his beard rasped her cheeks, and when she dared to open her eyes, he was staring at her like a hawk about to snatch up a foolish rabbit.

Through two pairs of flannel pajama pants, she felt his urgency and her response soaking the fabric. Her fingers hurried to grasp him through the flannel, moving up and down, and he ran kisses down her jaw, his tongue curling around her ear as he cupped her breasts with warm hands under her shirt. Despite the fact that she had messy hair and no makeup and no cute underthings and was wearing only his baggy clothes, she'd never felt so hot, so sexy and wild.

“Hit the button and get us back upstairs,” she moaned, and he chuckled into her collarbones.

“Don't need to. I was a Boy Scout.”

As he took her nipple into his mouth through the t-shirt, he held out a condom pulled from his pocket. Tara gasped with pleasure, joy radiating through her as she realized that he'd wanted this as much as she had, all morning. That he'd figured all was lost and yet had still held out hope. And also that they could fuck right here in the elevator instead of waiting a single moment longer.

The warm wetness of his mouth soaked the shirt as he played with her nipples, and she felt moisture pool below as she worked his cock through the thin fabric of his pants. When she reached down his waistband to take his hot length in greedy fingers, he groaned and shoved down her pants and lifted her up so her bare ass was resting on the brass bars that ran around the elevator, a little above waist-high. The metal was cold against her skin, making her all the more sensitive in the overheated car. She wrapped her hands around the bar, and his tongue slipped back into her mouth as he broke the condom wrapper and rolled it down. He didn't stop kissing her as he ran a knuckle up and down her cleft, sliding a finger in and out to test her readiness. Her whimper told him everything he needed to know about what she wanted.

The first nudge against her folds nearly drove her insane, but with her ass on the bar, she couldn't urge him in faster. She was pinned there, and he took full advantage of her position to inch in with teasingly slow, sweet slowness. It was an angle she'd never tried, and her muscles clenched desperately as she strained to take more and more of him. Her tongue lapped at his mouth, begging for more, and he kissed her back with the same maddening patience, his knuckle rubbing her clit. She was already so close, but he refused to speed up and bring her what she wanted, what she needed. When she made a small sound of frustration in the back of her throat, he chuckled into her mouth and gave a sudden, powerful push, fully taking her and slamming her ass into the mirrored wall.

Tara opened her eyes and was greeted by the prettiest thing she'd ever seen: a completely hot guy banging her in an elevator full of mirrors. She would've come right then, but he withdrew and started the slow, relentless thrust all over again. Her breathing sped up, the pressure building as he brushed that soft, sweet place deep inside her and withdrew again. They found a rhythm that suited them both, their tongues curling together as his knuckle rubbed her and his cock stroked her inside, slick and wet. He opened his eyes, too, and at first, she was shy. But then she realized it was hot as shit, him watching her watch them, and she broke from the kiss and nibbled on his ear, ogling over his shoulder as his ass flexed in the mirror.

“I'm really glad you unsafed in,” he whispered in her ear.

“Woo--” she started, and he froze.

“Would you please fuck me harder?”

Ryon rewarded her with a pounding thrust that rocked her right to the edge. She bit his shoulder, her thighs straining against the bar and her breath heaving as he pummeled her into her climax and held her as she shuddered into a million glittering shards.

With her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around him, she whispered, “You make me feel as sparkly as the snow.”

* * *

When the elevator opened on the fourteenth floor, Mac was standing there in workout clothes, looking pissed.

“Seriously, Brubaker?”

Tara giggled, and Ryon put his arm around her and ushered her out of the elevator, which smelt distinctly of wild monkey sex.

“Deadly serious, man. They need to get a technician out here or something. This thing's always breaking down.”

Mac stepped into the car, his nose wrinkled up. “Febreze, man. Febreze is your friend.”

As soon as the doors closed, Tara and Ryon burst into laughter and hurried back to his apartment, where they curled up on the couch with crème brulee, homebrew beer, and a fluffy blanket to watch The Empire Strikes Back.

“To Hothlanta,” Ryon said, holding up his beer.

“To not Wookiees,” she answered, clinking her glass against his.

He tucked her more firmly against his chest. “You know, I hear it's going to snow again next week. You should probably just stay awhile. Odds are you'll just get snowed in again.”

Tara turned her head to kiss his cheek. “Never tell me the odds.”

“I love it when you quote geek shit.”

Little thrills shot through her heart.

“I know,” she answered.

 

 

 

Coming Soon in the Geekrotica Series:

Level 1: THE LUMBERFOX

Level 2: THE SUPERFOX

Level 3: THE DAPPERFOX

 

If you enjoyed this story, please check out the Blud series from Pocket Books

by my alter ego, Delilah S. Dawson.

WICKED AS THEY COME

WICKED AS SHE WANTS

WICKED AFTER MIDNIGHT

 

and the Blud e-novellas

THE MYSTERIOUS MADAM MORPHO

THE PECULIAR PETS OF MISS PLEASANCE

THE DAMSEL AND THE DAGGERMAN

 

You can find out about upcoming works and events on my website,

http://www.whimsydark.com/

Thanks for reading!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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