Fueling Her Fire Read online

  Finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the road, Kip pressed her hand between her legs, trying to simulate the feeling of Dylan’s erection rubbing against her anxious pussy, so hungry to have him inside her. It wasn’t hard to conjure the fantasy—he was one of her favorite subjects. Dylan had ignited a fire in her that no one else had come close to sparking to life since. No matter the pain he’d caused her, the truth was that she still craved him. She’d never wanted another man more.

  Dylan Johnson… She wanted him inside her, moving in her, filling her up.

  Fuck it.

  She pulled her SUV to the side of the deserted road and threw it in park. Falling snow enveloped the vehicle like a gauzy veil, making her feel very alone, and she was glad for it. Praying a state trooper concerned for her safety wouldn’t pull over and tap on her snow-covered window during her very private activity, she quickly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. Shoving her hand into her panties with relief, she found hot wetness there, her clit firm and impatient for release.

  Closing her eyes and leaning her head back on her headrest, she allowed the feelings to envelop her. Rhythmically, she massaged her fingers into the folds of her pussy, stimulating her clit while she let herself become lost again.

  Dylan would kiss her as he moved his cock against her, sweeping down her neck with his tongue, lifting one of her breasts so he could close his mouth over her hard nipple. His tongue and teeth would work at her breast’s sensitive tip and she’d moan, just like she was now, alone in her SUV. She let the sound escape her mouth and fill the silent cab of her truck.

  He’d straighten again to look at her with those beautiful blue eyes, darkened with lust, and, without pulling his eyes from hers, he’d tilt his body and take his cock in his hand to place the swollen head of it at her wet entrance.

  Oh god, Dylan’s cock inside me…

  She’d wrap her hands around the muscles of his gorgeous, athletic ass and pull against him, not willing to wait any longer. Knowing she was so close to having him fully inside her again would spur her to arch up to meet him, hoping to feel all of him. He would meet her movement with his own and push into her.

  God yes. That’s what I want.

  A satisfying spasm would twist in her pelvic muscles, rejoicing in welcoming back his firm cock, feeling so right inside her. He’d stretch her open for him and groan, filling her up as quickly as her body would allow him in. When he’d fully sheathed himself in her, he’d close his eyes, braced on his elbows above her, his face a study of tenuous control as he began a slow thrust in and out. She would eagerly hug every plunge of his thick cock.

  Keeping her eyes closed so as not to derail the daydream, Kip scrambled at the seat controls with her free hand until she succeeded in moving her driver’s seat back, allowing her to spread her legs further. She considered crawling into the backseat to reach the vibrator she’d packed in her overnight bag. She’d brought her pink ribbed friend along, plus extra batteries, fully intending to use it liberally to rediscover her suffocated sexuality and make up for all of the orgasms she’d missed while sharing a lukewarm bed with William. But she didn’t want to interrupt her rhythm to dig it out of her bag, so instead she just loosened the zipper of her jeans further, giving her busy hand more room to play.

  Realizing she was holding her breath, she blew out her air through pursed lips and let her head loll against the car’s icy window. The cold bit against her flushed cheek and she used that too. She used every sensation to flesh out and add dimension to her lust. And she would do that from now on. Her sex life would be a kaleidoscope of what worked for her and what she wanted. Right now, she wanted Dylan.

  Increasing the pressure of her fingers on her clit, her excitement grew as she imagined how greedily she and Dylan would undoubtedly enjoy each other’s bodies. He’d make her moan in a way she hadn’t in a long time, as she’d relish every stroke of his heavy cock. The hunger for Dylan that had been burning for so long in her would finally be fed. He’d pump into her like he was trying to drive through her, like he could be a part of her. And she wanted him to be.

  She imagined him whispering, “Oh god, Kip!” when he lost the grip on his control and buried himself hard in her one last time. He’d buck as his cock pulsed in climax and she’d ride out every wave, enjoying the sort of exquisite satisfaction that only an orgasm born out of sating a long-suffered lust can bring.

  Kip whimpered and dropped her head forward as her muscles suddenly tightened. She gripped the edge of her seat with her free hand, shuddering and sighing as her ministrations finally brought her over the edge to a beautiful and dazzling release. Squeezing her thighs together, she relished every surge of ecstasy as the pleasure swept over her in the front seat of her SUV.

  Exhaling and catching her breath, a smile played across her lips. Maybe Dylan had used her all those years ago, but in the years since she had used him over and over again at her whim to satisfy her own sexual wants. Sure, it was all in fantasy and he didn’t even know about it, but there was some poetic justice in that, wasn’t there?

  Chapter Two

  Kip stretched and opened her eyes, realizing she now sat in a dim, gray box. In the short amount of time she’d been on the side of the road, her vehicle had been uniformly covered in a blanket of snow, which blocked most of the in the waning light. It must be coming down really fast. She readjusted her seat, zipped up her jeans and turned on her windshield wipers, knocking most of the powdery snow off her windshield and rear window in two swipes, but she had to get out of the car to clean off the side windows. Even with snow up past her boots, she decided the orgasm had been well worth it. She’d needed that.

  William hadn’t seemed to care whether or not she was satisfied and whenever she had brought up something she might want to try in bed—techniques, positions, toys—he’d always looked at her like there was something wrong with her for wanting such things. Like civilized people wouldn’t want such things. She’d rarely ever had an orgasm with him and she’d resigned herself to taking care of her ignored needs when he wasn’t around. So the first thing she’d resolved when she’d broken up with him was to finally get what she wanted.

  She’d narrowly avoided settling for a marriage with a stilted and discouraging love life. She would never make that mistake again. She knew true passion was out there, because she’d had a taste of it with Dylan.

  If Kip wanted to use toys, she was going to use toys. If she wanted to experiment with new positions or ask for what she wanted—in specific detail—well, goddamnit, it was her life. She was a sexual, vibrant woman and she was going to find the right man to take that journey with her. But she’d need to start the journey alone for now. Most everyone was with loved ones and family on Christmas Eve, not out searching for a sexual soul-mate. So when she’d woken up alone on Christmas Eve and remembered the events of the night before, she’d decided to go to the cabin and work at rediscovering her sexuality alone. As many times as she could.

  One down and she wasn’t even to the cabin yet! Not half bad.

  When she finished cleaning the snow off her windows she sat sideways in her seat, her feet hanging out the open door, banging the snow off her black, quilted winter boots. Her cell phone shrilled to life in the muffled silence, startling her so much she nearly fell out of the truck. She dove for it, heart pounding, hoping it was her mom, who was on a European cruise with friends she’d met at her retirement village in Florida.

  Kip had emailed her mom to let her know she was headed for the cabin, but didn’t have any hopes for an answer given that her mom was on a ship and probably rounding Italy right about now. Kip wasn’t supposed to be at the cabin alone this Christmas. She was supposed to be in the Hamptons at her ex-boyfriend’s parents’ house for the holidays, probably celebrating her and William’s engagement. She looked at the caller ID but it wasn’t her mom, it was the ex. Cursing, she firmly pressed ignore.

  Pulling back onto the road she felt much more relaxed now that she wa
sn’t so sexually wound tight. Her cell chirped, notifying her that William had left a message—a message that would be deleted without being heard. Asshole.

  She smirked, darkly enjoying the idea that William had been thinking about her at almost the same moment that she’d been orgasming over X-rated fantasies of Dylan. It wasn’t far from the norm though, she thought, recalling how often she’d closed her eyes and imagined being with Dylan when she was in bed with William. She used to feel guilty about it—thinking of one man when she was in bed with another—but now that she’d discovered the joke William had made of their relationship, she no longer felt guilty about anything.

  Kip shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter, a vague anxiety tweaking the pit of her stomach. There it was—the Dalton Run town limits sign. It was getting harder to drive in the snow and a few minutes went by before she turned onto Main Street, though it was only a half mile past the welcome sign. She was driving slowly and carefully—she didn’t want to get stuck out there alone in the cold.

  Her cell phone chirped again. Frowning, she punched the buttons to delete the message. Hell would freeze over before William heard from her again. Suddenly she was in a bad mood, her post-orgasmic bliss dissolving with the double whammy of William’s call and her entry back into the town from her past. She couldn’t believe how fresh the hurt still felt after eight years.

  Even what William had done hadn’t hurt her as badly. There’s just something about a serious wrong done to a girl at a time when she’s otherwise relatively whole and innocent that sears the mark of it into her psyche like a primitive brand. A violation like that is deeper than a simple betrayal—it’s a defilement of a girl’s understanding of love. And that is a serious, serious thing to defile, Kip thought.

  When it happened to Kip it had changed her. She’d felt a chill in the background of her relationships ever since. Sometimes when she was lying in bed next to William, she feared that maybe she couldn’t love anymore, not really. Not in the earnest, exuberant way she’d loved Dylan when she was that eighteen-year-old Kip back in Dalton Run.

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter and glowered, thinking she really knew how to pick ’em. William had turned out to be a complete jackass and her hot fantasies of Dylan notwithstanding, he’d managed to stomp all over her “first love” for him.

  Her eyes scuttled around the familiar scenery that seemed frozen in time. The night that she and Dylan had slept together back when they were eighteen she’d driven home along the same road, taking her time, singing her favorite songs at the top of her lungs. In her youthful, naïve mind, all she could think of was how she and Dylan were going to be together every chance they got and maybe now he’d be her boyfriend. Maybe he would actually take their relationship public and she could walk down the school hallways holding hands with Dylan Johnson.

  Then she’d gone to school the next day and found that yes, indeed, he’d taken their relationship public, only not in the way she’d been hoping.

  Kip took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on the road, trying not to let the memories come, but they came anyway.

  She and Dylan had kept their “relationship” a secret up until then, mainly because Kip had been afraid if she told anyone about their make-out sessions that he’d never kiss her again. But she’d realized quickly that morning at school that he’d told everyone, or at least he’d told someone, who’d spread it like wildfire. By lunchtime she was the school slut.

  And the worst part? Because Dylan’s dad had paid her for her time to tutor him and she’d screwed him instead, the nasty gossip turned her into a prostitute. In a small town where nothing much happened, this rumor was a goldmine and the word was that Kip would provide tutoring and sex—for the right price. She’d been completely humiliated and, worse, he’d broken her heart.

  She drove by the road the high school was on, turning her head to look as she passed. The school wasn’t visible from the road and she could see only the distant fence that bordered the grounds. Dylan had caught up with her at that fence that day after school as she was hurrying home and tried to talk to her, but she’d cut him off and told him she never, never wanted to speak to him again and she never had.

  She’d graduated as valedictorian amid the scandal and that unknown girl had called her a whore during her speech. Small towns can be unforgiving places with long memories. She’d gone off to college and tried to forget her unhappy past, but every time she stepped foot in Dalton Run, which only happened once a year at Christmas, she was that eighteen-year-old girl again. The feelings and memories came back as if no time had passed.

  No.

  Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she set her jaw. She was going to have a good Christmas if it killed her. So it wouldn’t be perfect. So what? She was not a love-struck eighteen-year-old kid anymore. She was successful—a lawyer at a big firm in Chicago, her own apartment in the city. She was no longer the skinny, self-conscious teenager she was then, hoping a boy might notice her, kiss her. Now she was a grown woman with all the curves and experience to prove it.

  Yet here she was, back in Dalton Run. She’d second-guessed the idea ever since she’d gotten on the highway and started heading toward the mountains of West Virginia. When Kip had lived there, she and her mom had lived in a house in town with her grandmother, who also owned the cabin near the top of the mountain. When Kip’s grandmother had died, her mom had retired to Florida and sold the house, but they’d kept the cabin and spent every Christmas there together ever since. Except this one.

  Kip turned up the windshield wipers. The snow was really getting deep the higher up she got, and by the time she made the last turn out of the town proper, she thought there must have been a true snow emergency underway. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d stopped at the last decent-sized town to buy groceries and supplies. She had cocoa, coffee and creamer, a few bottles of wine, bread, ham and cheese for sandwiches, all the fixings to make chili, and eggs and bacon for breakfast. It was too much food considering it was just her, but she was aiming for comfort.

  Picking up her phone, she checked the bars—no reception now. She tossed it back into her purse, regretting that her chance to hear back from her mom had passed. Kip wouldn’t be getting any emails now. But her mom kept the phone turned on at the cabin, and since Kip had already sent her a message saying she’d be there, she wondered if her mom might find a way to call the cabin to reach her. That is, if her mom had service in Capri or wherever she was in the world. Kip suddenly felt very alone.

  She wasn’t supposed to be alone this Christmas. She was supposed to be with William. Not Bill or Will…William.

  I should have known. She laughed dryly.

  They’d been together over a year and Kip was pretty certain she was getting a ring this Christmas. What she’d gotten instead was a phone call yesterday from the pissed-off “other woman”. Apparently she’d suspected Kip was getting a ring too.

  After the high-pitched lady provided enough indisputable evidence regarding her own relationship with William, Kip had hung up the phone and kicked his cheating ass out of her apartment, with him sniveling about loving her even as she threw all of his belongings into the common hallway.

  She made the final turn onto Clay Ridge Road, which climbed further out of town and up the mountain to the cabin. The trees were heavy with the weight of the snow and Kip wondered if the tall pines would be able to handle it, since the snow didn’t appear to be slowing.

  She finally pulled into the clearing in front of the cabin at just after three o’clock. Her grandmother’s cabin looked tucked-in for the evening under a blanket of snow and Kip was anxious for the comfort she hoped being at the cabin would bring. She got out of the car in the silence that only a landscape with a heavy layer of snow can create and stretched, looking around the clearing.

  The dark lines of the cabin hunkered sturdy and familiar against the frozen backdrop, the wide, covered porch promising shelter. The structure had begun as a simple hunt
ing cabin of her grandfather’s—almost nothing more than a shack—but as the years passed, her family had fixed it up and added on to it. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and comfortable and to Kip it was heaven on earth.

  The cabin stood in a meadow in the woods, painstakingly cleared of rocks and trees by her grandfather. The backyard sloped steeply down the mountain and a wraparound porch provided a panoramic view of the whole town below on a clear day. There was no Christmas as good as being snowed in at the cabin, drinking hot chocolate and stringing popcorn for the tree while a fire blazed in the wood stove. It was rustic, but it was glorious.

  Kip took a moment to savor the silence, all of the natural sounds muffled by the white drifts. She never experienced silence like that in the city. The hush of the forest under a cloak of thick snow steadied her somehow and made her glad that she’d had the chance to know such a thing in her life. She missed her Gran.

  But she had to move quickly to prepare the cabin. It wouldn’t do to be fumbling around in the dark on a night like this one was promising to be. After carrying in her groceries, bedding and overnight bag, the first order of business was heat.

  She built a fire in the wood stove—the sole source of heat in the cabin—using the logs piled next to it. When she had a vigorous fire rolling a steady flow of warmth into the cabin’s main room, she paused. Sitting on the well-worn floorboards in front of the stove, she pulled her legs against her chest, wrapping her arms around them. She let her head rest on her knees, listening to the fire crackle and pop and thinking about how her Christmas was turning out.

  She was sad, but it was a sadness caused by being lonely at a time when most people were with loved ones. It had nothing to do with not being with William. And because of that, she realized she was profoundly grateful to the lady with whom he’d been cheating, because her well-timed phone call had saved Kip from making a terrible mistake. William had been a comfortable habit, but she deserved better than “comfortable”. She needed a man who made her gasp with desire.