Page 17 of Vinter
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Dallon
A Simple Need Story
What started out as a pretty typical day, quickly spiraled when Dallon saw her. Buttoned up, full of curves, with a voice smooth as honey and eyes so innocent the flames of Hell warned him to keep on moving.
But then she walked into his bar, out of place and full of determination, and asked him to teach her all the things a downy, pure girl like her didn’t need to know.
What’s a guy like him supposed to do when temptation exits the Heavenly Highway straight onto Sin Street?
Warning: What Dallon does with a beer bottle may be illegal in forty-eight out of fifty states…and at least two territories.
Dallon wiped down the bar for what seemed the hundredth time. Damn. Was the night ever going to end? He didn’t want to be there. He loved the bar, loved being in the bar, loved owning his third of the bar. It was his home, his haven, but tonight he just couldn’t muster up the energy for it.
Tossing the rag in the sink, he braced his hands on the edge. He knew exactly why he was so restless. The woman he’d met at the grocery store earlier in the day. Carrie.
He’d walked out carrying his purchases and stopped dead when he heard her voice. She was talking on the phone and he did nothing but stare at her. Dressed conservatively in a knee-length skirt that hugged her hips and a blindingly white, stiffly starched button-down shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and all he wanted was to pull on it. He’d wanted her on her knees right then and there, sucking the hell out of his dick while he held his bags of pretzels and cans of peanuts in one hand and pulled on that ponytail with the other. And here, hours later, he wanted her still, naked on the bar, with her legs over his shoulders while he ate at her pussy. He wanted her and the innocence in her eyes so much he hurt.
They spoke briefly when she’d approached him and asked for directions to her new job. She’d explained that she was new in town, knew how to find her way from her apartment to where she would be working, but that she’d gotten all turned around while running errands and was lost. As she talked, all he could see in his mind was his ass burning in hell for the outrageously impure thoughts he was having about her mouth, her tits in a bra he figured was serviceable and not at all sexy, and the holy land between her thighs. He’d had virgins and innocents before, and at times loved being the one to pop cherries. But this particular cherry was not going to be picked by him because she worked at the one place he swore never to associate with again. She was off limits.
What a goddamn fucking shame, too.
She’d asked his name and had willingly given hers, something he could have gone without knowing because now he knew what to call out when he came later. And that was only going to make it worse. Her name on his lips, frolicking around in his mind.
Dallon looked up at the clock. Thirty minutes and he could close everything down for the night. He could lock up and head upstairs, jack off to the memory of her sweet, soft self. It was probably a good thing he didn’t know where she lived or that’s where he’d be going. He didn’t think someone like her would venture into a bar, so he was safe there too, even though she’d asked where he worked and if it was likely she’d be seeing him again, how it would be nice to have at least one friend.
He’d cursed himself for telling her where the bar was at the same moment he was giving her those directions too. Resisting temptation had never been his strong suit and damned if he wasn’t tempted from head to toe by her lush body and sweet voice and dark chocolate eyes.
“Hello, Dallon.”
His head shot up and his gaze landed on her. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.
Her eyes widened at his harsh tone, but she hadn’t missed a step. He hadn’t meant to, but he was too close to the edge. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just …” She smiled and his words fell away. God help him.
She walked closer to the bar and him, undeterred, unruffled. “It’s all right. I’m as surprised as you are. Maybe more so.”
Perhaps she wasn’t as unruffled as he thought.
She was so pretty, though. So sweet, so downy and pure. He wanted to defile every inch of her flesh until nothing could ever erase the memory of him from her skin. He wanted her, but he really fucking needed her to leave. “You shouldn’t be here, Carrie.” Literally, the man or woman upstairs needed to send a bolt of lightning south and strike him dead for the thoughts he was having about this woman.
“Why not? This is a bar and I want a drink.”
He sighed. Why not, she asked. There were a million reasons. Dirty ones, lovely ones.
Something about the way his heart sped up around her, the way his gut knotted just thinking about her. She had that … that thing he’d heard people wax poetic about. She had that draw on him the way Elise had on his buddy Vinter.
The kinds of things he wanted to do to her, that she wanted him to do to her, would ruin him for any other woman. He could twist her and she’d let him. Happily.
“A drink, huh? Anything in particular?” He’d bet the night’s take that she’d never had a drink in her life.
If he were a smart man, he wouldn’t give her a drop. He’d instead, escort her out, lock the door behind her, and close the place until she was well and truly ensconced with the holier than thou up the road.
“Maybe a beer?”
“Maybe a beer? Really? Okay. You want what’s on tap or a bottle? You want dark or light? You want something local or something that you can buy down at the Jiffy?”
