Duke
“I still can’t believe that’s your signature,” Valentina said, tucking the final form of the countersuit in a manila folder as she shook her head.
“What? It’s efficient.”
“It’s illegible.”
Reaching across the kitchen table, I pulled the form back out and pointed to my John Hancock.
“Look, you can clearly see a big ole D and a big ole W. The rest you can use your imagination for.”
“I’m sure it takes all kinds of imagination to call your D big.” Her pretty full lips curved up into a smirk.
I paused, my own mouth twisting into a smile. “Oh, don’t worry, darlin’, you won’t have to use your imagination for much longer.”
Valentina froze, a faint blush creeping over her cheeks as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Duke, we talked about this.”
I raised my hands in surrender, forcing an innocent look on my face. “I know, I know. Strictly by the books.”
Strictly by the books, my ass.
Valentina seemed to be conveniently forgetting the kiss we shared the other night. We hadn’t talked about it since, but that kiss was all the confirmation I needed. She was into me, whether she liked it or not. And I wasn’t about to let a beautiful woman like her slip through my fingers without something more.
“Now that all the paperwork is handled, what do you say you and I go celebrate? My treat.”
Valentina shrugged. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to cut loose a little bit.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
She rose to her feet. “Just let me run back to the guest house and get changed. Something tells me a pantsuit isn’t the right look for a night out in Shady Grove.”
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of the guest house to find Valentina sitting on the steps of the front porch. Wearing high-waisted skinny jeans and a low-cut pale-yellow top, she was definitely worth the wait.
Damn. The girl had curves.
As she climbed into the passenger seat of my truck, I let out a low whistle.
“Look at you, city-slicker. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were dressing up for me.” I cocked my head in her direction, arching a playful brow.
“What makes you think any of this is for you? From what I’ve heard, there are plenty of eligible bachelors in this one-horse town.”
“That may be, but there’s only one Duke Wilder.”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s hope so.”
When we arrived at the Drunk Skunk, I led Valentina to two open stools at the end of the bar, my favorite seat in the house.
“What can I get you?” I asked, flagging the bartender down.
“I think it’s about time I tried that Wilder Whiskey I’ve been working so hard to protect these last few days.”
She leaned her elbows on the bar, revealing even more of her already ample cleavage. I felt a familiar twinge in my gut as I took the sight of her in for the second time that night. The pale yellow contrasted perfectly with her tan skin, her long, dark curls cascading over her shoulders. For a split second, the dim light of the bar caught her eyes just right, and I could have sworn the look she was giving me was almost…sweet.
“You heard the lady,” I said, nodding to the bartender.
“Two Wilders, coming right up.”
The bartender quickly returned with our drinks. We clinked glasses and took a sip, the appreciative look on Valentina’s face bringing a smile to mine.
“I’m not normally a whiskey girl, but I think I can make an exception for this one.”
“Let me guess, your go-to is vodka soda.”
Valentina shook her head.
“Tequila. Straight.”
“I’m impressed.”
“But only the good stuff. I need to make my ancestors proud.”
“Where are they from?”
“My grandparents immigrated from Mexico right after they got married. My mom was born in LA, and we’ve lived there ever since. I still have a lot of family in Mexico, though.”
“And your dad?”
She rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t around much. My mom and grandma raised me, really.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, taking a sip of her whiskey. “It’s old news by this point.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, my dad was wasn’t around much either. Drank himself to death, but not before running Wilder Whiskey right into the fucking ground.”
Valentina stiffened slightly, but I waved a hand to comfort her.
“Old news on this end too, darlin’.”
She nodded, tipping her head back and downing the rest of her drink. Waving the bartender over, she ordered another round, eyeing the liquid remaining in my glass. With a smirk, I downed the rest of my drink too, just in time for our tequila shots to arrive.
“You sure about this?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“We’re supposed to be celebrating, aren’t we?”
Two shots and three rounds of banter later, Valentina slid off her stool, smacking my arm with the back of her hand.
“Ay, pendejo, come dance with me,” she said, taking my hand as she swayed her hips to the twang of country music blasting from the speakers.
How the hell am I supposed to say no to that?
Following her onto the dance floor, I let my hand drop from hers as she lifted her arms over her head, her body gyrating in a way I’d only seen in music videos. Watching it happen in person was ten times sexier.
I did my best to keep up, but my small-town country boy moves were no match for her Latin roots. The liquor loosened both of us up, and no matter where the music took her, she kept coming back to me. And trust me, just about every pair of eyes in that shithole was watching her. She could have had any man she wanted.
And it felt damn good watching her choose me.
The music slowed, and Valentina brought her body close to mine, looping her arms around my neck. Placing my hands loosely on her hips, I finally took the lead, guiding our movements in time to the country song playing on the speakers. Feeling her body against mine, even to a song this slow, brought me right back to that night we kissed, how much it killed me to leave her when I wanted so much more. She rested her head on my shoulder, the sweet, citrusy scent of her hair making my desire for her skyrocket.
I just needed to make sure she wanted me too.
Dipping my chin, I brought my lips to her ear.
“Wanna get out of here?”
She raised her head and nodded, a small smile spreading across her lips.
I pulled her in for a quick kiss before leading her to the truck. She might have been warned about my “ways,” but I wasn’t about to show her my hand. Not on the dance floor of a shitty bar.
When we pulled into my driveway, I led Valentina to the front porch, my favorite part of my new place. The moon was full that night, the silvery light playing with her dark hair.
“Charlotte said you built this place yourself after they got married. Is that true?”
“Well, I had a full crew helping me out, but yes, the design and some of the craftsmanship are all me.”
She wandered to the far end of the porch, her fingertips trailing over the wooden supports I’d shaped and sanded by hand. I stood by the doorway watching her, my head swimming with all the things I wanted to do to her.
Lifting herself onto the porch railing, she beckoned me toward her with her index finger. I closed the distance between us, taking her jaw in my hands and crushing her mouth against mine. She melted into me, wrapping her legs around my waist, her tongue wrestling mine for control. It was hot—too hot, almost. All the passion, all the tension that had been building between us since the moment I found her in my kitchen? We were finally letting it out, taking it out on each other in the most satisfying way possible.
Well, maybe not the most satisfying. Not yet, at least.
Valentina clawed at my chest as I brought my hands to her hips, carrying her from the railing and through the front door without missing a beat. With every step, my cock pressed into her belly, growing harder by the second. Once inside, I pressed her up against the wall, hands still gripping her ass as I descended on her neck, licking and nibbling her delicate skin until she quivered under my tongue.
With her feet finally on the floor, Valentina ground her pelvis against my thigh, her long fingernails raking through my hair. I slipped a hand under her shirt, quickly unclasping her bra before cupping her breast and pinching her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. She gasped at the unexpected sensation, throwing her head back and exposing even more of her neck to me. Massaging her breast with one hand, the other moved to her waist, undoing the button of her jeans. Before moving any further, I paused, pulling back to look her in the eye.
“Is this okay?”
Valentina smirked. “Of course you’re a gentleman when it comes down to it.”
“Just because I’m country doesn’t mean I’m trash. You’d think a city girl like yourself would know—”
Before I could finish, Valentina took my hand and guided it inside her jeans, slipping my fingers beneath her panties.
“Shut up and touch me.”
Where the fuck have you been all my life?
She didn’t need to tell me twice.
Dipping a finger between her folds, I circled her stiff bud as she writhed against me, her hips bucking in time with my motions. She bit into my neck as I touched her, until her knees trembled, the only sound coming out of her mouth my name.
“Duke…” she breathed into me, snaking her hands under my shirt, her fingernails digging into my skin.
I pressed another finger inside her, and she came moments later, her whole body tensing around me as waves of pleasure washed over her.
When her breathing steadied, she reached for my jeans, her hands quickly finding the rock-hard bulge behind my zipper.
“Not here,” I said, lifting and carrying her to my bedroom.
When I set her down by the bed, we started ripping at each other’s clothes until everything was off and both of our chests were heaving in anticipation. Valentina’s eyes grew wide at the sight of my cock, all nine inches springing straight up to greet her.
“Think you can handle it?” I took a step toward her, my cock bouncing against my abs.
“You should be asking yourself the same question,” she replied, closing the distance between us and stroking the length of my shaft with one long pull.
I shuddered at her touch, a low groan escaping my lips. She stroked again, and our mouths collided, crashing together even more intensely than before. Valentina was good, but she had no idea what was in store for her.
I walked her backward until her legs hit the bed and pushed her onto her back. Within moments, my tongue was circling her clit, and Valentina took a fistful of my comforter in each hand to brace herself.
“Fuck, darlin’, you taste even better than I imagined,” I growled between laps as her hips bucked against me. She moaned in response, her body shaking as I brought her to a second orgasm with my tongue.
When she finally caught her breath, I pulled a rubber out of the drawer in the bedside table, rolling it over my length and aligning my hips with Valentina’s. She spread her legs wide for me, her eyes still hungry, even after the pleasure I’d already given her. She was insatiable, and it only made me want to pound her pretty little pussy until she couldn’t take it anymore.
I pushed my tip into her hot, wet center, slowly at first, watching her face as she took me in. With her head tilted back, her mouth gaped open, a low guttural moan coming deep from within her. I buried myself fully inside her, wasting no time in finding our rhythm. With every move my need for her intensified, the ache deep inside me only growing stronger. Her breasts bounced with the movement. I pumped harder and harder until I collapsed on top of her, pleasure exploding from within me in wave after wave, her tight channel clenched and pulsing around me.
As the waves subsided, I rolled over onto my back, sweat beading along my forehead. I was totally spent. When I turned to Valentina, I swear the look on her face said she could go for at least three more rounds. I chuckled and shook my head.
This woman might be the best thing to ever happen to me.
Either that, or the worst.