Page 12 of Bucked Hard

Chad

I’ve never bought flowers for a woman before. Now I want to buy every flower I can find and give them to her. It wasn’t enough to buy her a rose; I bought them all, and the basket too.

And the best part is when I hand them her way.

There it is again.

That dimple.

That smile.

And it’s not just on her lips. It’s in her eyes and I’m imagining all the ways I want to take that sweet mouth and fill it with dirty things. She’s one part hometown, one part angel and all mine.

My cock is lighting up inside my jeans and making it damn uncomfortable as I try to keep from stealing her away and discovering just how sweet this homegrown honey is. She can’t hide the way her nipples pebble against the thin fabric of the tank she’s wearing either. That’s a fucking mating call to me, and I can’t ignore it.

Fuck, how many years has it been since a woman gave me solid wood from just a look? I have no clue. And now I’m hard as a country oak tree, and ready to convince this beauty it’s time to make babies.

“Thank you.” Her two syrupy sweet words shake the ground under my boots.

Not only because I think anything she says to me is magic, but because I hear how much she means it. It’s not just polite, it’s more than that. She’s grateful that someone is showing her this kindness, this attention, and it makes me want to gut punch someone for how they must have treated her in the past.

And at the same time it makes me the happiest guy in this fucking bar.

Bar.I never in my life thought I’d meet someone like her in a bar. Hell, I never thought I’d meet someone like her anywhere.

She shakes her head, the smile gone. “But, I can’t accept them.”

Like fuck you can’t.

So, you would think a dude standing with a full basket of roses and a girl telling him she’s not taking them might throw some shade on what he thought had to be some cosmic connection.

Nope.

“You don’t need to accept something that’s already yours.” I see she’s getting uncomfortable, so I rein it in, settle for the twinkle in her eye. The last thing in the world I want is for her to feel anything but happiness. “Tell you what.” My mouth is beginning to water. Being this close to her… I lick my lips. “I’m going to go over where you were sitting there. That’s a friend of yours?” I snap my head around and light my eyes on the red head I saw her chatting and sharing some fries with a while ago.

She turns around and looks where I’m looking. “Tabitha.” Her eyes dart back to mine. “I mean, yes, she’s my friend.”

“Then I’m going to go make sure she watches these for you while you work. I’m also going to make sure she knows they are yours and they need to go home with you.”

I take her silence to be acceptance and instead of blocking her path, I decide to give her some space. I’ve never come on this strong with anyone before and it’s even scaring me a bit. But I can’t leave it at that, so before I turn to walk away, I slip one rose out of the basket, snap the stem off at six inches with my teeth, reach over and tuck it behind her ear.

“Keep that one for now. The rest will be waiting.”

Her eyes light up something inside of me that must have been dormant until now. My gut is spinning, my chest is like a furnace, and my balls are sending a message that they’re ready and able to serve. Inside my brain, a tribal drum beats out a single word over and over.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

I don’t mind so much that my boner is visible to anyone that gives it a hard stare in the dim light of the bar, but hell if I’m going to cream my jeans. For the first time in my life, I realize there is only one place I ever want to cum again and that’s inside her pussy.

Or any place on her or in her as far as that goes. She’s going to be wearing me inside and out if I have my way.

Her name tag catches my eye again, and the name Lori still doesn’t fit for me, so I come up with my own name for her. One that’s more fitting.

She backs away, turns, and I let her go even though it hurts.

Roger’s giving me some shit about standing there with a basket of flowers but I don’t care. I watch her for a few minutes, then wander off around the back wall of the bar, making my way to the table where her redheaded friend is sitting.

“These belong to her.” I tip my head to where my dove is taking a customer’s order. “Make sure she takes them home, okay?” I don’t want to discuss it, so I turn and leave her sitting there with her mouth open.