“Did someone send you to seduce me out of here? Have they already sold the rig and the new owners want it empty?” I swallow the sharp stick in my throat. “Are they going to demolish it and put a new one in its place?”
“I don’t know what they’ll do once I sell the rig,” she says in a half-murmur. “But I can’t sell it while you’re still here.”
“You own the rig now?” Against my better judgment, I approach her in the near-darkness, my booted footsteps heavy on the metal grated floor. As I get closer, I can see her resemblance to Mack, the former rig manager and owner. She’s decidedly feminine and delicate, but the stubborn nose and chin say it all. “You’re Mack’s daughter.”
“Guilty,” she says, fidgeting. “I inherited this hunk of metal. Only found out last night.” Her gaze slips to the front of my jeans where there’s not only a massive wet spot, but the ridge of my new erection pulses steadily. She blinks several times, fingers wringing in her lap. Even in the darkness, I can see her cheeks turn pinker, innocence surrounding her like an aura. Yeah, she must be really desperate to offer to fuck me, because I’m all but certain she’s never had a man’s cock between her thighs. Definitely never one this big. “Why don’t you want to leave, Butch? Don’t you want to meet people or feel the sunshine on your skin…”
“No.”
She shakes her head slowly, looking up at me with a wrinkled brow. Really looking, as if she’s genuinely curious. “Why not?”
Someone is banging a gong in my chest. Hard. “People aren’t loyal. They are selfish deserters. And I got enough sunshine in the desert to last me six lifetimes.”
“In the desert. You were in the service?”
“A Marine. Yeah.”
We stare at each other for several seconds. When she stands up, I don’t expect it. Not until I see that the scar on my flank has caught her attention. She circles around back of me and gasps, obviously having found the crisscrossing knife wounds, my only physical souvenir from the war. The rest of them are mental. Gripping and debilitating and hostile.
“What happened to you, Butch?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I rasp, shouts for mercy filling my head.
Cindy appears in front of me once again, a line of sympathy marring her forehead now and making my throat feel tight. Our height difference is even more obvious now that she’s standing up. The top of her head barely reaches the center of my chest. She’d probably look like a doll in my arms. I want to pick her up and test that theory so badly, but I wouldn’t be able to stop there. I’d rub her all over me. I’d scrub her up and down my hard dick like clothes on a washboard. And I’d humiliate myself again.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed…” She swallows hard. “I’m sure you haven’t seen a woman in a really long time.”
“Never…never one that looks or sounds or smells like you,” I heave, my shaft squeezing. Oh fuck. I’m clenching from teeth to asshole to keep from coming again. The softness of her skin, the gentle purr of her voice, the plumpness of her lips. Every sweet inch of her is an assault on my senses. Goddamn, I just want to ram my cock up between her thighs and have her like it. Have her enjoy it. I know that’s impossible, but I can’t help torturing myself. “Have you been fucked before, Cindy?”
She takes a breath, closes her eyes. “No.”
A desperate groan escapes me. I almost double over at the way my balls cinch up, wanting to be the lucky man to flood her. “I wish it could be me. Your first.”
“That’s exactly what I offered,” she says quietly, visibly confused. “Remember?”
My laughter is rife with pain. “You’d wish me dead after one thrust. Your nails would open up every single wound on my back trying to get me to stop.” When she only continues to stare at me in confusion, I sigh and unzip my jeans, letting my freakishly huge dick spring out into the open.
She jerks back, her foot catching on the bottom step.
She’s going to fall. Hit her little head.
No.
With a distressed sound, I lurch forward and catch her in my arms before any delicate part of her can connect with hard metal. In the process, my bare shaft has wedged itself between her belly and my lap. My head goes up in flames when I realize her pussy is only two layers of fabric away. Her jean shorts and panties.
That’s if she’s wearing panties.
Jesus. Jesus.
“Don’t move,” I grit out.
To my utter shock, her eyelids flutter. Her nipples harden, too, spearing me in the chest. Why isn’t she terrified? Why isn’t she screaming at me to let her go?
“I have an idea, Butch.” Her fingertips glide lightly up the center of my chest and my thoughts scatter in ninety directions. She’s touching me. Touching me. “Why don’t we start small? If you come up one floor, I’ll let you…k-kiss me.”
Her mouth becomes the center of my universe. My heart knocks wildly in my head, my dick stiffening to the point of agony between us. “Kiss you,” I repeat, my voice like gravel. Yes. I can kiss her without hurting her, can’t I? But I know it won’t be enough, so I push, praying she won’t laugh in my face. “Two places. On your mouth and between your thighs.” A shudder wracks me. “Please.”
“I didn’t realize we were negotiating,” she squeaks. A beat passes while she studies me. “If I say yes, you’ll come up to the next floor?”
There is ice on my spine at the prospect of leaving the engine room.
I haven’t left in five years.
But the fire she’s lit in me is stronger.
“Yes. To kiss you twice, I’ll go up one floor.”
Chapter Three
Cindy
I’ve always wondered how I would react if a bear approached me in the woods. Would I scream and run away or freeze? This might be the closest I get to finding out. Climbing the steps to the second underground floor, there is a giant behind me, breathing roughly on my neck. Matching my steps, one for one. Does he not realize he could have me without the bargain? I could do nothing to fend off this man who is built like a Mack truck, muscles the size of watermelons. Trying to fight him would be an exercise in futility.
Yet here we are, him following me up the stairs as if leaving the engine room is causing him physical pain. The fact that he’s doing something so unpleasant just to kiss me? I can’t pretend that’s not having an effect on my body. Something deep and low inside my tummy has been humming like a tuning fork since I saw him for the first time, heard his deep gravelly voice.
I’m not experienced with men, but I’ve been aroused before. Mostly by dreams or when I’m soaping between my legs in the shower. I’ve touched myself and tried to give myself an orgasm to no avail. The first few times I thought I might be coming close, but I never reached supposed paradise, got frustrated and stopped trying altogether. Better to be a little turned on than gasping for a climax and be unable to achieve it, right?
Well, I’m more than a little turned on right now.
The flesh between my legs contracts when he exhales down the back of my tank top, each and every little hair on my neck standing straight up. He wants to kiss me. My lips and between my thighs. The very idea of his mouth there, on my cleft, bathes my skin in fire. Shouldn’t I be terrified of this man?