Falling in Vermont (Cozy Nights in Vermont #2)

Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

BLAKE

B lake tossed and turned in bed.

Sophia’s smile as she chatted with his family would appear every time he closed his eyes.

And he hated it.

And he loved it.

He threw off the covers, put an arm over his face, and tried to fall back asleep. Think of all the chores you need to do tomorrow. What you need to grab for Star at the fancy pet-food store.

He’d never been a great sleeper, but it was unsettling to sleep by yourself after so many years next to somebody else. Star was no help either. After her nightly ten-minute cuddle, she’d hop off and settle in her oversized, furry princess bed.

As soon as he’d start to fall asleep, his thoughts would drift to seeing Sophia joking with his customers when he had come back to the farm. He’d been blown away by the business her smart ideas had generated.

Or how sexy she’d looked in her clingy sweater with a flushed face last night as she cooked.

His stupid body and his stupid heart picked the worst time to come back to life for a woman who was too good for him.

She was carrying so much on her shoulders. He’d noodled and found her social account. She was funny and bright and made people happy. For every unkind comment, he wanted to hunt them down, throw them against a wall, and make them eat their words.

Maybe literally.

He wanted to help her, make all her worries go away. He wished he didn’t feel so protective of her. She was a grown woman for chrissakes, probably with a Roth IRA thing and dental insurance. She always had her shit together. She was strong, not even fazed when a house fucking fell on her.

But who took care of the strong ones?

He flopped onto his stomach, burying his face in a pillow as he pictured what Sophia had looked like that morning. The curve of her thighs and ass in tight yoga pants peeking out from her oversized sweatshirt that said Kale . He’d wondered what she’d had on underneath it.

No, you’ve already had your fun tonight. He allowed himself one lurid fantasy of her per day. That was it—no more. He wasn’t going to become obsessed.

Become more obsessed?

His clock now clicked to 3:10 a.m. Might as well get the day started . There was always something to do on the farm.

At least he wouldn’t have to see her in the morning over breakfast. He’d already be out of the house.

The less time he spent with her, the less he was tempted to daydream about her later. How she bit her lip when smiling mischievously, that pillowy bottom lip he wanted to bite. How her eyes sparkled when she teased him.

“Nope, shit. Doing it again,” he muttered. He threw on sweatpants to go downstairs and start the coffee pot.

Star was snoring in her bed and didn’t even budge when he walked past. Some guard dog you are .

As he slowly walked downstairs, he realized the dim light wasn’t from the night-light, but from the kitchen.

Dim lights glowed under the cabinets. Every single baking ingredient he’d ever seen in his life was spread out over the granite countertops. Piles of sugar and flour sat beside bowls, cups, measuring spoons, and ladles. A pot was on the stove, and a mapley, caramelly sweetness perfumed the air.

In the middle of it all was Sophia, headphones on, dancing like a maniac with her eyes closed. She wore a loose burgundy T-shirt that hung past her elbows and down her thighs. Her back was to the stairs and she was bent over, shaking her ass to a beat he could barely hear, throwing her hips back from side to side and knees bent.

Oh my god .

She started twerking, leaning over the countertop and making her ass cheeks jiggle as she pushed against the kitchen island, her back still to him.

Fuuuuck.

She dropped down to the ground, sliding up sensually until she was thrusting against the kitchen island with a smooth, practiced ease that belonged in a nightclub.

Or his bed.

His cock instantly stood to attention, with him wanting to grab, caress, take her, but he stood transfixed—stock-still in the kitchen at the foot of the stairs, unable to move.

There were no pants to be seen, and her purple underwear peeked out as she bent over again to do that ass-jiggling thing that would haunt his memories for the rest of his fucking days.

Je…sus. He had to stop staring. “Sophia,” he called.

Her breasts swayed side to side as she closed her eyes, dancing, lost in the music.

She turned to face him with her eyes still closed. She bit her lip and shimmied her shoulders, making every part of her sway under the loose T-shirt that was now the sexiest piece of lingerie he’d ever seen. Her breasts bounced and she moved her hands up her hips, stomach, and then grabbed them.

“Sophia,” he yelled louder as he finally tapped her shoulder.

She opened her eyes and screamed.

She flailed backwards, and he grabbed her arm before she toppled ass over teakettle.

Throwing a hand against her heart, she righted herself.

“Sorry,” he said suddenly. “I just, um…”

She ripped her headphones off. “Oh my God, you gave me a heart attack,” she said, laughing and bending over. The billowing T-shirt around her puffed forward as she caught her breath.

Her hair looked like caramel chocolate in the dim light and was captured in a low, messy bun. He wanted to pull it free and run his hands through it.

Bubblegum pop blared in her headphones, and she tapped her phone to turn it off. “Now I’m really not going to sleep tonight.” She laughed, rubbing her hand on her chest.

You and me both, he thought as he padded to the fridge, trying to hide his hard cock. “What are you doing up?”

Think about anything other than her tits bouncing underneath her soft T-shirt. He concentrated every brain cell on filling his water glass at the fridge.

Breathe in, breathe out.

“I tried baking the anxiety away for a few hours. Made a great bourbon maple frosting recipe, but that wasn’t working. So, I tried dancing the anxiety away. Seeing if I could still remember all my club moves from ten years ago. Sorry if you saw more than you bargained for.”

He took a gulp of water and thought about throwing the rest on his face just so he’d calm the fuck down. His cock was hard as a wrench in his pants.

He gasped as he chugged water, setting the glass down too hard. “Did it work?”

“A little,” she sighed, looking sad as she leaned next to him, licking a spatula with frosting on it. “Plus, I have just a tiny bit of the kitchen to clean up. I was a little messier than usual,” she said with a sardonic smile, licking the spatula clean.

“Nah,” he teased, tracing the movement of her mouth with his eyes. He wanted to see her eyes sparkle again. “This looks about normal for Sophia, goddess of kitchen chaos.”

Her jaw fell in mock outrage as her eyes lit up. “I am not chaos. This is a well-honed”—she grabbed a big pinch of flour from a pile on the countertop and tossed it at him—“system.”

He shielded himself with a laugh but flour poofed over his skin. “A system implies less”—he threw a larger poof of flour back at her—“collateral damage. Lest we forget the raccoons you let in.” Flour streaked across her face and shirt.

Her eyes ignited with playful fire. “How dare you toss Raccoonbert De Niro in my face. That’s it.” She dove for the cocoa powder but he caught her wrists in time and yanked them down on either side of her body, pinning her back to the kitchen island.

“You’re not playing fair,” she huffed with a smile and licked her lips.

“All’s fair in love…” His voice died as her eyes caught on his at that word.

His thumbs stroked the pulse points of her wrists as they stood toe to toe.

Her breasts rose and fell, matching his own ragged breaths.

A streak of flour had landed on her cheek. He wanted to kiss it off. Wanted to run his hands up under her shirt and finally know what her belly, her hips, her breasts felt like.

She was heartbreakingly beautiful and he needed her like his next breath.

Her eyes held his with intensity.

“Did you call me a goddess?” she whispered, staring up at him.

“Mmhmm.” His thumb came to her cheek, stroking the flour away. Her skin felt like velvet, and he stroked and stroked.

She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. Thick hazelnut eyelashes fluttered closed against her pale skin. He wanted to memorize each one.

His thumb traced her soft, round cheek. “You’re gorgeous, strong.”

Her eyes still closed, her dusky bottom lip pouted out and he couldn’t help it—his thumb wandered to it. Her eyes fluttered open, the heat of her breath against his skin further igniting his desire.

He stroked her bottom lip, pulling it down, the need inside of him clawing at his control. “A body begging to be worshiped.”

He stepped between her legs, needing to feel the brush of her hard nipples against his chest. He didn’t give a shit anymore if she saw how hard his cock was for her.

He cupped her cheeks with both hands.

She leaned into him, arching up against him.

“Please,” she breathed, barely a whisper. He was an inch from her face, and he just wanted a little more.

“Please what,” he said, his nose stroking the end of hers.

She grabbed his hand from her cheek and brought it to her breast, squeezing her hand over his in a slow, deliberate grasp. “Worship me.”

His knees almost buckled, feeling the heavy weight of her tits that he’d dreamed of.

Fuck it.

His hand dove into the messy bun of her hair. His mouth took hers, hunger and need bursting through him.

She tasted unreal, like she was already his. He pulled her against him, needing to be closer, to be around her. He sucked her lip, raking his teeth across it. Wanting to claim her.

He licked into her mouth, needing to taste all of her. Her tongue met his, ravenous, feral.

Her nails raked down his scalp and— fuuuck . He moaned, trying not to come as waves of pleasure lapped over him.

His hands moved to her hips, grabbing—claiming.

“Yes,” she sighed against his mouth.

The sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

He thrust his hips against hers. She moaned, and he palmed her breast again, desperate for her. Her arms snaked around his neck as he kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her.

Hair cascaded around her shoulders as it fell out of her bun. A cloud of vanilla perfumed around him. He’d always think of her now when he smelled it. He sucked on her neck in a spot that made her shudder. He made a map of all the places on her body where she seemed to crave his touch.

He moved her to straddle his leg, and he grabbed her hips, pulling them toward him. A carnal part of him wanted to know what she tasted like, what her scent was.

Wanted it on him.

He grabbed her hips, thrusting her against his leg.

“Yes,” she sighed. “More. Please.” His arm snaked around her waist so she could ride him.

His other hand moved back to her breast, needing to memorize the feel of heaven. He teased her nipple, and it was a hard gemstone under his fingers. “You were so gorgeous that first night it almost killed me. With your perfect ass jiggling in my face.” He growled against her mouth. “Couldn't think of anything else.” He rubbed her nipple back and forth, slower, harder. “For three”—flick—“fucking”—flick—“days.”

She cried out his name, and goddamn, if that didn’t make his cock weep.

He raked his teeth down her throat. Nipping, biting, worshiping.

Her low moan would be his nightly meditation.

“I came that night,” he said, “thinking about you. Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He kissed her, needing to make sure this was real. She kissed him back, her tongue licking against his.

The heat of her pussy against his thigh was too good.

He needed more.

Just a little more and then he could stop.

He needed her on him.

His hands traveled down to her ass cheeks. “I stared at this for weeks, wondering what it would feel like.” He squeezed as he thrust her against his leg. She moaned out a sob.

Fuck , it felt even better than he could have ever imagined taking her in his hands.

He lifted her onto the island as bowls and ingredients clattered to the ground. Her legs wrapped around him as she ground herself against his cock in his sweatpants, the tip of it now peeking out from under his boxers.

Her hands raked up and down his arms as he grabbed her hips.

He rocked her against his cock, grinding through the layers of her panties and his sweatpants. “Holy fuck,” she whispered. “You’re huge. I need it,” she mewled.

He could feel the heat of her and it was too good.

“Not done worshiping your collarbone yet,” he muttered as he licked into the hollow there. He rocked her hips into his and she gasped, clawing closer around him.

“Have an IUD,” she panted, “and I was tested before I left Dallas.”

His mind screeched to a halt.

They were careening toward sex.

Because that’s what adults do, have sex whenever they want , he realized.

He was essentially fucking her with clothes on right now.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d lost control.

His heart pounded outside of his chest for an entirely different reason than Sophia’s perfect tits. This was panic.

Panic at losing control and almost giving in. Getting in too deep.

He ripped himself away, coming up for air as ragged breaths clawed through him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He took a step back. “I don’t know what I was?—”

“Sorry?” she said. She tightened her legs, bringing him back toward her until he could feel the heat of her against his cock through his sweatpants. “Just be sorry you stopped.”

She pulled him back down for a slow, melting kiss that built and built.

This woman tasted like vanilla, and cinnamon.

She tasted like home .

He growled, wanting to take all of her, wanting to squeeze every bit.

Fuck. Stop.

He pulled away, anguished. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” he said, knowing he sounded insane. “I’m not sorry for kissing you. I’d do it all day if I could. But I can’t. This is... I mean, we can’t.”

She dropped the tension in her legs so that they hung on either side of his hips.

“I knew it. You’re making out with one of your other roommates, aren’t you?” she said with a wry smile, tracing her finger along his stomach, playing with the hair on his chest as she chewed her cheek.

He grabbed her hand, cradling it to him.

“Sophia, you are…”

Perfect .

“...leaving in a month, and I can’t risk getting attached. More attached. I already feel…” He sighed. “I care about you. Sex is a big deal to me. And I shouldn’t have lost control. I haven’t really dated…well, since I moved here.” He didn’t want to get into the past. “I had a couple dates that went nowhere because I didn’t feel like this,” he said, his eyes connecting with hers, hoping the weight of his words was clear. “And this was entirely unexpected.”

Her eyes grew wide, understanding this was bigger than casual sex for him. He wasn’t flirting back like she wanted. He was being real, the only way he knew how to be.

He wanted to spill out his heart. But she’d run for the border if she knew how deep in it he already was.

I’m afraid I might already be falling for you and already can’t stomach you leaving.

I can’t imagine anyone more perfect than you, and I don’t want to know how good life could be with you.

“This is all just new for me,” he said finally.

“You wouldn’t be interested in a roommates with benefits situation? I could be your practice run,” she said with a teasing smile.

“Soph.” He cradled her chin, and she leaned into it. Her wide, dark toffee eyes broke his heart. “You’re no one’s practice run. You’re the whole fuckin’ championship.”

He’d love every minute of “benefits” until the part where he watched her drive away.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a shake of his head, seeing the instant disappointment on her face that was about as subtle as the lights on the Vegas Strip. It broke his heart. “I want to. I’m just not ready to lose anyone.”

He stepped back but held her hand in his, slowly kissing her palm. He savored the scent of the butter and cinnamon on her skin and the soft feel of it against his lips.

That would have to last him for a long while.

Before he changed his mind, he turned around and ran up the stairs, two at a time, with a hard cock and a breaking heart.