A flush of pleasure crept across her chest and he reached for her, practically begging her to come closer. When she straddled his lap, he groaned in anticipation and prayed like hell the chair would hold their weight.
He slid his hands under the flannel, cupping her breasts. She lowered her head and kissed him, her mouth sweetly insistent against his. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get his pants down enough to free his cock without making her move.
When she reached down and closed her hand over him, he almost exploded. It felt so good, and the way her nipples played peekaboo from behind the shifting red flannel inflamed him. He caught one in his mouth, sucking hard to make her feel the same sweet agony of anticipation he was suffering.
Finally, she pulled a condom from the shirt’s pocket and shifted herself backward while he put it on. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and very slowly lowered herself onto his shaft.
His breath left him in a ragged hiss as she rocked, taking him deeper inside of her with each stroke. Her warmth enveloped him and he knew this wasn’t going to last long. With his hands on her ass, he urged her to ride him faster and she did.
She arched her back and the flannel slid away, exposing all of her body to him. He licked her nipples, then her neck, and felt her shudder. Circling her hips, she ground against him and he dug his fingers into her waist.
He felt her orgasm, her body squeezing his as she rocked and moaned. He lifted her slightly, then brought her down hard again and again until he came with a guttural groan.
When the shudders passed, she collapsed against his chest. They were both breathing hard, and he ran his hands over her flannel-clad back. “This is my favorite shirt now.”
He felt her body jerk when she made a breathless sound of amusement. “Does that mean you’re never going to wash it again?’
“Smart-ass.” He slapped her ass, making her jump. “Remind me to tell you about my fantasies more often.”
“They don’t all involve flannel, do they?”
He pretended to think about it for a moment. “Yeah, they mostly do.”
She groaned and kissed his neck. “That explains the L.LBean catalog in your bathroom.”
*
THE FOLLOWING DAY, after work, Hailey got comfortable in a mound of throw pillows, with a glass of water within reach, and pulled up her mom on speed dial. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom. You busy right now?” She hoped not because she needed to talk to somebody who wasn’t tapped into the local grapevine.
“No. I was working in the garden a little, but I’m never too busy to talk to you. How’s life in Whitford?”
“Whitford is the same as it’s always been.”
“Hmm.” Water was running in the background, so Hailey pictured her mom with the phone trapped by her cheek while washing the garden dirt from her hands. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Mostly good. But you know how the gossip gets.”
“I was born and raised there, too, honey. I guess if it’s annoying you, they’re talking about you?”
“I’m kind of seeing somebody. I guess.”
“You guess?”
“My neighbor and I have been spending a lot of time together.” And having sex, but she assumed her mother would be able to read between those lines all by herself.
“Your neighbor?”
“He moved in over a month ago. He’s a game warden and they’re stepping up their presence in the area because of the new ATV trails.”
“A game warden?” Her mom laughed. “I have a hard time picturing you dating a game warden, honey. They’re very...outdoorsy.”
“Tell me about it. He’s the most outdoorsy man I’ve ever met. You know that lumberjack guy in the paper towel commercials? More outdoorsy than that.”
“No wonder the town’s talking about you. I always thought you’d marry a doctor.”
“We don’t have a doctor.”
“That does complicate things. So you met this game warden when he moved in next door?”
Hailey sighed. “Not exactly.”
She told the story—again—about being left behind in the woods. She told her everything, from the ineffective bug spray to the unflattering mountain man comparisons. “It was pretty bad, Mom.”
“I should have made you play outside in the yard when you were younger. You were always reading. You especially loved those glitzy soap opera romances from the eighties, but I should have taken them away and told you to go out in the yard.”
“Sometimes I sat in the tree and read.”
“That’s true. So not my fault, after all. Back to your neighbor. So, after all that, he likes you, anyway?”
“Well, he seems to like certain aspects of our relationship.” Maybe she should have told her mom about the weather instead.
“Let’s pretend you’re talking about your cooking. Are you cooking for him exclusively?”
Hailey rolled her eyes, picturing her house as a fast food drive-through. “Yes. And I believe he’s only eating what I cook for him.”
“Oh, well that’s good, then.”