Big Man’s Heat Read online

  This is worlds away from the city.

  Taking a sip of my drink, I let my eyes drift back to Mark. He happens to glance over at me at the same time, giving me a smile as he lifts his drink in the air. Lifting mine back, we both take a sip at the same time.

  Turning his attention back to the guy he's talking to, he keeps looking over at me from the corner of his eyes. Smiling into my glass, I suck the rest of my drink down. I feel giddy every time he glances my way, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

  I'm trying to not get overly emotional tonight. I'm about to lose one of my best friends. Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy for Jenna. I am. But this changes everything.

  She's not coming back to the city with me. She won't be a block away anymore. I'm not going to be able to call her up to grab lunch or coffee out of the blue whenever the mood strikes anymore. And it sucks.

  Jenna is one of the only people that I've met whose personality goes deeper than the surface. I can talk to her about anything. And she's interested in more than just designer clothing and what fashion trend is coming next.

  I'm going to miss her.

  Getting up, I walk to the drink table and grab another glass of wine. I don't even bother going back to my table because I've already decided that I'm getting drunk tonight. If I keep thinking about not having my best friend by my side, I'm going to spend the rest of the night crying.

  I don't want to cry selfishly on her wedding night, so getting drunk makes sense right now.

  “Did you taste that at all?” His voice comes in over my shoulder, low and heavy.

  Laughing, I set down my empty glass and pick up another. “Nope, and I'm not trying to. Want to get drunk with me?” I ask, lifting up a second glass and passing it to him.

  “How drunk?” he asks with a smirk as he takes the glass from my hand, letting his fingers brush mine gently.

  Tingles rush up my arm, sweeping through my chest, and seizing my lungs. I hold my breath for a second, trying to not visibly shiver.

  “Very drunk.” Flashing him a big grin, I lift my glass, tapping it against his.

  “Count me in,” he says.

  His eyes move all over my face. They trace my cheeks, moving down slowly, and lingering on my lips. My heart starts to race, the blood rushing so forcefully it pounds in my ears, silencing everything else around me.

  The way he looks at me makes my body come alive. His eyes pierce me where I stand, forcing my heart to speed up. I can't breathe. I forget how as his eyes start to travel over my breasts, working their way down over my hips, and moving all the way to my feet.

  God damn, he's gorgeous.

  His hair is styled with just enough mess my fingers itch to slip through it. The suit he's wearing barely contains his thick muscled body. He flexes his arm as he lifts the glass to his lips, and I swear the threads at the seams are straining.

  The tips of my fingers reach for my neck as I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I can feel every inch of my body prickling with desire, begging for this man to just grab me with his bear sized hands and take me however he wants.

  “Having a good time?” he asks, turning around to face the small crowd on the dance floor.

  “I am, actually.” Leaning back against the table, I hold the glass close to my lips, but don't take a sip. I let it rest there, cooling my skin.

  “You sound surprised by that. What did you think it would be like? A bunch of people chasing pigs through the mud in ripped jeans and line dancing?”

  “No. . . Well, maybe a little.” Giggling, he laughs with me. “But no. I'm just used to weddings that are. . .” Letting my voice trail off, I try to pick my words wisely. I don't want to offend him. This is where he lives.

  “Built for the rich and famous?”

  “Yeah, basically.” Agreeing, I catch Jenna making a beeline for the house. “Huh,” I say under my breath.

  “What?” he asks, following my gaze.

  She runs up to the house quickly and disappears inside. Mark looks around the room, and that's when we see Ryder talking to one of Jenna's and my friend, Tara. She points to the house, and he nods, sending him in the same direction as Jenna.

  “Hm, wonder what's going on,” Mark says into his drink.

  His lips make a slurping noise, drawing my eyes right to them. Lowering the glass, he licks his lips with deliberate slowness. Biting on my bottom lip, my mind starts to twirl with thoughts of his lips against my skin. Kissing my neck and moving down my throat until he finds more exposed skin to taste.

  Mark coughs, drawing me out of my daze. My eyes move up to his and he smiles coyly.

  I'm caught.

  Bashfully, I twist my head in the other direction, embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “Yeah, I have no idea, but they both ran off quick.”

  “I'm happy for them. You know, I honestly thought me and Ryder were going to be bachelors forever. Boy was I wrong, huh?” He chuckles to himself, looking deep into the liquor in his glass.

  “Yeah, well I thought Jenna and I would be drinking mimosas every Sunday morning for at least another two or three years before she got swept away for her design career. I don't think that's happening anymore. Looks like we were both wrong.”

  He laughs again and holds his glass in my direction. “To change,” he says.

  Clinking my glass against his, we both finish what's left. “So, what about you? What are your plans now that you're going solo?”

  Shrugging his shoulder, he sets the glass down on the table. “I don't plan on a changing a thing. I'm a mechanic, and that keeps me busy enough.” He sounds slightly bitter. His voice is flat, but I can see it in his eyes. “What about you?”

  “I don't know. I'll figure it out. It'll just be weird for a bit is all.” Glancing up at the house, I look to see if they're coming back, but they're not. “I'm happy for them too, everyone deserves to find someone who makes them happy.”

  “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “You want to dance?”

  I don't have a chance to answer before Mark grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor. The small stage is built with pallets and plywood. The surface is laminate tiles that look like wood, and there are strings of lights wrapping the beams overhead.

  Mark takes my hand and holds it, placing my other hand on his shoulder. His thick fingers curl around my waist as he tugs me in closer. He starts to sway to the music, leading me in a circle.

  “You ever listen to country in the city?” he asks, sweeping me elegantly around to the beat.

  “No, not really. I went to a line dancing bar once with a few friends to check it out, but it wasn't really my thing.”

  “That's because you need to know how to dance first, before trying that.”

  Arching a brow, I smirk. “Are you saying I can't dance?”

  “I'm not saying anything, your feet are.” He looks down. “You've stepped on me twice.”

  Giggling, I smack his chest. “Hey,” I snap playfully.

  Mark tightens his arm around my waist and dips me unexpectedly. “Lucky for you, I know what I'm doing.”

  I can't stop from smiling as he holds me, letting me hover dangerously close to the floor, but I'm not scared that he's going to drop me. I can feel it in his touch, and see it in his eyes, he won't let me go.

  In one quick move, I'm upright again, and we're moving across the floor. My hair falls over my face, and Mark brushes it away softly.

  Maybe I'm drunker than I thought because I want to kiss him. My eyes keep dropping to his mouth, watching the small movement of his lips. There's a twitch at the corner, and his lips part slightly. The motions are so subtle, almost unnoticeable, but I can see them.

  “So,” he says, slipping his fingers deeper around my lower back, “what do you do in the big city? Lawyer? Fashion? Model?”

  “No, nothing like that. My parents are plastic surgeons, so of course, they wanted me t
o go to medical school. But I really have a love for art. Painting mostly.”

  “That's cool. There's a guy in town who does artsy stuff. He carves things from these giant pieces of wood. Pretty intricate stuff. You should be an artist if you love it. Open a gallery or something.”

  “Yeah, that probably won't happen. Art is my secret passion, no one knows because I'm supposed to be someone else. Follow in the grand path my parents lay out for me. You know how it is.”

  “Actually, I don't.” He gives me a gentle smile. “I've always been a mechanic for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was kid, I would take things apart and put them back together. I think my parents are just happy I graduated high school. We never had much, so they never expected much.”

  Thinning my lips, I feel awkward. It's easy to forget that most people don't live the way I do. They don't have every opportunity at their fingertips with only the pressure from their parents to accept what they're supposed to be.

  “What do you like to paint?” he asks.

  He's really curious?

  Mark doesn't seem turned off by the fact my choices in life are mostly superficial. I don't have to worry about anything really. Money, a roof over my head, food, clothes, those things have never been an issue.

  Ask and I shall receive. The word no doesn't exist in my world. A few phone calls from my parents and I can have anything I want.

  “You really want to know?” I ask with a grin.

  “I wouldn't ask if I didn't.”

  “Landscapes. I love to paint landscapes.”

  “Well you're in the right place then. The mountains around us are amazing. I know of a few spots that would probably blow your mind.”

  “I'll have to send you one of the skyline paintings I've done. There's so much going on, I can literally walk a block or two and find something completely different. The people change, the buildings change, it's wild.”

  Mark's eyes settle on mine, and I can't ignore the pull I feel. It feels like more than just an attraction. His hand around my waist makes my skin hot. The way he looks at me makes my stomach flip. His voice causes my hair to bristle and makes my heart pound. All of it feels too real.

  Forcing myself to look away, I inhale a slow breath. I'm going home tomorrow. I'll probably never see this guy again. Whatever it is I think I'm feeling is just an effect from the wedding and too much wine. All the wine.

  The music picks up, and the floor starts to fill with other guests. Mark slips his hand free from my back, and I hate how cold I feel as he backs away. But he doesn't let me go. He holds my hand, pulling me off to the side.

  “Everyone! Can I get your attention?” Ryder yells.

  We all turn to look. Ryder is standing on a chair with Jenna at his side. Her eyes are puffy and red like she's been crying, and for a brief moment my heart stops.

  What's going on? Is she okay?

  The room goes quiet as his eyes drop to Jenna. “We have an announcement to make. Babe, do you want to tell them?” he asks her.

  Jenna turns her attention from Ryder to all the guests. “We're pregnant!” she yells, her eyes welling up again.

  Pregnant. . .

  My stomach sinks as I force a smile. I know I should be happy for them, and I am. I just can't ignore the sadness I feel inside. Jenna is doing exactly what she wants to do. She's happy. She has a husband and now a baby on the way.

  What about me? Where's my happily ever after?

  “Hey,” Mark says, shaking my hand to get my attention. “You want to get out of here?” His eyes search mine, studying me, trying to read my mind. “We can go someplace else for a bit. Get away from all this.”

  It's like he can read my mind, as if he senses the sadness and anger and frustration that's bubbling inside me.

  “Please,” I answer sharply.

  Braiding his fingers through mine, he pulls me to the back of the barn and leads me out a door. “Why let this night drown us? We can make the best of it together, can't we? No strings attached, just a little fun. What do you think?”

  “I think that sounds really great.”

  It's only one night. I'll be gone tomorrow. What harm could come from a one night stand with him?

  People do it all the time. They meet someone, they hook up, and then they never see them again. This is no different.

  Besides the fact, he's Jenna's husband's best friend. . .

  Am I drunk? Yes. But even if I weren’t, I know I'd still say yes. It wouldn't matter where I am. I could never turn away a man like this.

  He can help me replace all the emotions I'm feeling with a happy memory. A memory that will last. A memory I can look back on when I remember Jenna's wedding.

  Is this selfish? Am I being a terrible friend?

  It doesn't matter. All Jenna is going to remember is Ryder. I'm not taking anything away from her today. I'm just giving myself a little bonus gift.

  Time to unwrap my present.

  3

  Mark

  “Are you okay to drive?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I'm fine. A glass of wine isn't going to do anything to me. Plus. . .” Pulling a couple bottles out from behind my back, I dangle them in the air. “I'm taking these with us. We can have a party of our own. I did say I'd get drunk with you.”

  Climbing into my front seat, she places her hands delicately in her lap. I'm about to close the door when she reaches out and stops it from shutting. “Wait, do you think they'll be mad we left?”

  “No, I doubt it. Why would they be mad?”

  “Because we're leaving together. Because it's their wedding and you're Ryder's best friend. Aren't you supposed to do a toast or something?”

  “Nah, he isn't into all that traditional stuff. The rest of the night is just going to be one big party. I don't even think they'll notice either of us are gone. They'll be too busy talking to everyone else about the new baby coming now.”

  “Right, the new baby. . .” Her voice thins to a whisper as she looks off into the distance. Her fingers wrap around the handle and she pulls the door closed.

  I'm not sure if it's anger or jealousy that I hear in her voice. I just know it's something.

  Climbing into the front seat, I set the wine on the floor behind me. She's quiet. Her eyes look forward, and her hands are fumbling in her lap.

  Maybe this isn't what she wants.

  There's no way I can leave with her if she's questioning what we're doing. I won't put her in a position to regret whatever happens. Either she wants this, or she doesn't. If there's even a question in her mind about what she's doing, then we're not going anywhere.

  I won't become someone else's regret.

  “Look, we don't have to leave if you don't—”

  “No, let’s go. Let’s get out of here.” Turning to look at me, there's no questions in her eyes now. She wants this. She needs this. And I'm happy to give it to her.

  Starting the truck, I back out of the spot and turn onto the road. She's looking out the window into nothing but darkness.

  “This is so weird,” she says. “Everything is so dark around here. There aren't even any streetlights.”

  “Welcome to the country.”

  “The city is always lit up like a Christmas tree. This reminds me of something I saw in a horror movie. I'm waiting for some guy with a chainsaw to jump out of the woods.”

  Chuckling, I smile. “We have something you'll never get in the city.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “I'm serious. I mean, there are a lot of things the city has that we don't, but there's one thing that you can never get with all that light.”

  “Oh yeah, and what's that?” she asks arching her brow.

  “Stars.”

  “Stars?”

  “Yeah, stars. Go on, take a look.”

  Leaning forward, she peers up. “Oh, wow,” she says, her eyes expanding big. “There are so many stars.”

  “You don't get to see them in the city with all that light, but here you can s
ee the edge of the Milky Way.”

  She eyes me with a small smirk on her face. “Will you show me one day?”

  “One day,” I say with a wink.

  My hand is resting on the shifter, when I feel something tickle my fingertips. Glancing down, her fingers are brushing mine slowly. Looking up at her, she nibbles on her bottom lip as she moves her fingers closer.

  Taking her hand, I tangle our fingers together. She pulls my hand into her lap, stroking her thumb across my knuckles. Her hand feels nice around mine. Soothing, comfortable, as if this is where she belongs.

  Don't be stupid. You've known her for what, three hours? This is lust. This is what lust looks and feels like.

  Spreading her legs, she opens my hand and places it on her thigh. I can feel her watching me. Her eyes are on my face as she slips her fingers between mine and presses my hand harder against the warm skin of her leg.

  Flicking my eyes off the road for a moment, she bites on her bottom lip and tugs it into her mouth as she starts to move my hand higher. Turning back to the road, I inhale a sharp breath as the tips of my fingers hit the trim of her dress.

  Sia exhales hard as I curl my fingers in, brushing the fabric of her panties. Her back arches slightly and she rolls her hips forward pushing her pussy against my hand. Her panties are wet in the center, I can feel the warmth against the pads of my fingers as I gently press against her.

  Her panties slip between her slit, and her lips wrap my finger as I start to massage her up and down. She's getting wetter and wetter the more I touch her.

  Flicking her panties to the side, I slide my finger through her folds until I find her clit. Her thighs shake, clamping around my hand the second I'm in the right spot. Sia coos, the sexiest little coo I've ever heard, making my dick throb.

  I'm hard as a rock, ready to fuck her right here. My cock is pushing angrily against my pants, and my balls are tingling, eager to feel her arousal. Dipping my finger into her heat, her walls tighten as I finger her slowly.

  Keeping my eyes on the road, I follow the twists and turn on autopilot. Lucky for both of us, I know these roads like the back of my hand, otherwise we'd be in a ditch right now.