I’m ready to mingle, drink some wine, and meet new people.
The ballroom is already mostly full of people. This week-long conference is comprehensive and big. There will be tours through most of the wineries in the area, workshops, dinners.
I’m most excited to tour the vineyards. It’s my favorite thing to do.
I walk to the bar, order a glass of a local Pinot that I don’t know well, and turn to take in the room.
“Are you Kat Myers?”
I turn and grin. “I am.”
“Sally Franks,” the pretty redhead says, and holds her hand out. “We’ve talked a few times.”
“Yes! Hi, Sally.” I shake her hand. “How are things in Denver?”
“Great,” she replies. “But it’s nice to get away. How was your flight?”
“Bumpy.” I smile, but I immediately want to change the subject, not wanting to relive the terror from this morning. Someone walks up behind me. Sally’s eyes go wide.
“You look like you’re feeling better.”
Mac. That’s Mac’s voice in my ear. A shiver runs through me as I turn around and look up, way up, into his green eyes.
“I am,” I reply, and take a sip of my wine. Was he that good-looking on the plane? “I didn’t realize you were attending this conference.”
“You had other things on your mind earlier,” he says smoothly, and motions for the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having, and another for her as well.”
“What if you don’t like Pinot?” I ask and tilt my head to the side.
“I like it all,” he says with a wink.
Oh my.
“Do you know many people here?” he asks, nodding toward Sally, who has moved on to chat with another group of people.
“A few. I’ve not met most of them in person, unless they were up in Washington or Oregon. How about you?”
“Same,” he says with a grin. “This is my first conference down in Napa Valley. And it’s off to a great start.”
“Right.” I laugh and shake my head. “Dealing with a crazy chick on the plane is exactly the best way to start your trip.”
“It is,” he says, and looks me dead in the eye. “She wasn’t that crazy. She was scared. There’s a difference.”
“Well, she’s fine now.”
“I’m glad.” His lips tip up into a smile and my stomach clenches. He has a dimple in his left cheek.
I want to lick it.
I take a sip of my fresh glass of wine and smirk to myself. Perhaps Mac fits the sexcation bill.
“What just went through that gorgeous head of yours?”
“I’m not drunk enough to tell you yet,” I reply honestly. Mac’s eyes widen briefly, and then he simply smiles at me.
“There’s a lot of wine in this place.”
“Thank God for that.”
A few hours later, after chatting with many people, new and those I already know, including Mac, he escorts me up to my room.
Sexcation.
But when we reach my door, he leans in and kisses my cheek. Just the cheek. I frown up at him.
“This is supposed to be a sexcation, not a fucking dating game.” It’s a grumble, but I’m shocked to hear the words actually leave my lips, rather than stay in my head where they’re supposed to be.
“A what?” Mac asks.
“Nothing.” I shake my head and pull my key card out of my handbag. “Good night.”
“Kat?”
“Yeah.” I look back at him and sigh a little at the sexy dimple in his cheek and the way his shirt pulls against his shoulders as he leans on the doorframe.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
“It’s already morning,” I remind him.
“It won’t be too long, then.” He kisses my cheek again and walks away, and I let myself into the room, set my bag down, and plop onto the bed.
“Dumb sexcation isn’t working out the way it’s supposed to.” I pout, but before I know it, I’m drifting to sleep, dreaming of a sexy green-eyed man with a dimple in his cheek.
Chapter Two
~Mac~
I didn’t sleep at all last night. I tossed and turned for far too long, then decided fuck it and paced the hotel room for a while. I couldn’t get her out of my head. Her sweet smile, her amazing red hair, her quirky sense of style.
I called myself fifty kinds of fool for walking away from her hotel room. She would have happily invited me in.
Maybe I’m losing it.
And now there she is, across the room from me at the first vineyard tour of the day, sniffing a small glass of wine and smiling to the woman standing next to her. Her bright hair is twisted up into a style that would have been popular in the fifties. She’s wearing dramatic makeup, including red lipstick. Amazingly, it looks completely natural on her.
A fitted button-front dress, black with white skulls, and killer red heels show off her long legs. Legs that I wouldn’t mind having wrapped around my waist, as soon as possible.
No one but Kat could pull off that look. It’s sexy as fuck.
She raises her eyes and catches my gaze and a slow smile slides across those sexy red lips. Her brown eyes are full of laughter as she takes a sip of the red wine, then swirls her glass and returns her attention to the sommelier pouring the samples.
The sommelier with his eyes on Kat’s tits.
I narrow my eyes and walk over to stand next to her and smile at—I look at his name tag—Kyle. “I’d love a sip of that.”
“Of course,” he replies with a smile, and pours the red. “This is a Cabernet from two years ago. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“What do you think of it?” I ask Kat.
“It’s a little bitter at first, but the more it opens, the more full-bodied it becomes. It’s nice.”
I smell it, hold the glass to the light so I can see through it, then sip it. She’s right. It’s bitter.
So I swirl my glass and step in front of her, cutting Kyle off.
“How did you sleep?” I ask.
“Like the dead,” she replies with a smile, and just like that, I’m knocked off my axis again. The chemistry between us is off the damn charts.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“And you?”
“Shitty,” I reply calmly, and take another sip of my wine. “Seems I couldn’t stop thinking about a certain woman who has a fear of flying.”
“Yes, I’m sure her cutting the circulation off in your hand was super sexy.”
“Everything about her is sexy,” I reply, and hold her gaze as I finish my wine and set the glass aside. “Do you spit?” I ask, and laugh when her eyes go wide.
“You might have found out last night,” she replies, not at all embarrassed, and my respect for her just went up about a thousand points.
“I was talking about the wine,” I reply. Many people spit the samples out so they don’t get drunk.
“Sometimes I will,” she says with a shrug, and wanders out the front door to the porch. We both lean on the railing and cross our arms. “But there’s usually something to nibble on during most tours, and as long as I have a little something in my stomach, I’m okay. Plus, we’re not driving.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “So if we get drunk, it’s no big deal.”
“You have a point,” I reply, and have to resist the urge to wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her in for a hug.
What in the hell is happening? I’ve been attracted to more than my share of women, and enjoyed many of them, but I’ve never had this undeniable urge to simply touch a woman. I’m not a touchy-feely kind of guy.
Before I can give in to the urge, Kat takes my hand in hers and kisses my knuckles, and I swear to God, just from that alone, my cock is on alert.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I almost broke it yesterday,” she replies, and laces our fingers together. “Thanks for that, by the way. I ran off as soon as the door opened, and I felt bad for not thanking you.”
“My guess is you were about to be sick.”
Her cheeks flush and she looks down. “You’re a good guesser.”
“I was happy to help,” I reply, and kiss her hand, then pull away before I do something stupid like bend her over this railing, which is exactly what I want to do.
“Looks like we’re moving on to the next vineyard,” Kat says as the others in our group come outside and wander toward the bus. We follow them, sitting together. It feels natural, comfortable, to be with her, and to my delight, we end up spending most of the day together, sampling wines, wandering through vineyards.
Getting a little drunk.
“I’ve never seen one this big!” Kat exclaims as she holds a wineglass up to show me.
“That’s what she said,” I reply, deadpanned. She snorts, and takes a sip of wine.
“This one’s good.”
“They’re all good.”
“No. That one at the last place was not good.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I lean in to kiss it.
“You kissed my nose.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re very lucky”—she leans in and buries her finger in my chest—“I’ll let you kiss me in other places later.”
“I’m good with the nose,” I reply.
“Liar.”
I grin. “Totally lying.”
She giggles as we follow the group out to wander through the grapes. It’s a beautiful day, not too hot, although with all the alcohol running through our veins, we’re all flushed. Kat wanders ahead, softly touching leaves and grapes. She’s graceful in the way she moves. I wonder if she’s that graceful when she’s having sex.
She turns back to me. “Are you coming?”
“No,” I reply, and join her. “I’m just breathing hard.”
She frowns for a moment, processing, then smirks. “Good one.”
“I thought so.”
“I like your sense of humor. You’re not crass, you’re just funny.”
“Good. Being crass is disrespectful. I just want to have a good time.”
“That’s what she said,” she replies, and laughs at her own horrible joke. “It’s pretty here.”
“Yep,” I reply, and continue staring at Kat.
“Now you’re just trying to get in my pants.”
“You’re not wearing pants.”
“I love an observant man,” she says, and leads me into a barn that the owner has converted into barrel storage. “Oh, there’s nothing like the smell of oak in a wine barn.”
“Agreed.” The tour guide is describing their process of crushing the grapes, barreling them, how long they ferment, and I can’t help but feel a little bad that he got our group so late in the day because we’re all a little tipsy.
Finally, he dismisses us to have a look around, and to wander back to the main building to sample more wine and eat some cheese, breads, and fruit, which is a good idea.
“Is this the last place today?” Kat asks me.
“Yes. After this, we head back to the hotel.”
“And room service,” she says with a dreamy look on her gorgeous face. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to order?”
“I’m not that kind of hungry,” I reply, and feel my cock twitch when she raises a brow and sends me a flirty wink.
I’ll chalk the honesty and flirtation up to too much wine and sun.
And intense lust.
Once inside, I encourage Kat to eat, and do the same.
“Have you ever noticed that a wine drunk is different than any other kind of drunk?” Kat says as she nibbles on some strawberries.
“How is it different for you?”
“Well, with hard liquor, it’s a fast, all-encompassing drunk. My face tingles. It feels more out of control.” She swallows and takes a sip of the water bottle I gave her. “Beer is probably the least potent for me. Maybe because I don’t drink much of it. I don’t love the taste of beer.”
“And how does wine make you feel?”
She thinks for a moment, narrowing her gorgeous brown eyes. “It’s a slow burn,” she begins. “I get warm. My cheeks get a little numb.” She leans in and crooks her finger for me to lower my ear to her. “And even my clit tingles.”
I swallow hard and brush my lips over her temple. “If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s working.”
“Trying? No. Just being honest.” She pats my cheek. “But it’s a bonus that it’s working.”
And with that, she saunters away, her feet clicking on the hard floor, hips swaying in that tight dress, and I’m pretty sure I won’t survive the ride back to the hotel.
She glances over her shoulder as she leads me down the hallway to her room and smiles. “Are we going to have a repeat of last night?”
“The kind where I kiss your cheek and leave?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I sure hope not,” I reply with a gusty sigh. “It almost killed me.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Because I’m an idiot,” I reply, and shove my hand through my hair. She unlocks the door and leads me inside. “Are you sure about this?”
“Let me explain something to you.” She tosses her bag on a table and turns to me, her hands on her hips. “This is going to be my sexcation.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sexcation,” she repeats, and begins unbuttoning her dress, making my mouth go dry. “My friends and I came up with the concept. I’m not home, so the guy I choose to have sex with isn’t going to show up at my place all the time. I can have mutually satisfying sex with someone I enjoy. No harm, no foul.”
“Sounds too good to be true,” I say with a frown. “You’re fine with having sex with me on this trip, with no strings attached, and never seeing me again after we leave here?”
“Yes, please,” she says, nodding her head emphatically.
“One rule,” I reply, eager to get my hands on her.
“Tell me fast because this dress is almost off my body and I’m not wearing panties.”
“Christ.” I swallow hard again and wipe my fingers over my mouth. “I’m the only one you’re fucking on this trip.”
“I’m not a serial sexcationer,” she replies with a sober face. “Is that it?”
“I don’t do serious relationships,” I say, wanting to make sure she knows the score here. “I like you, but I won’t be pursuing you after this.”
“Did you not understand me when I explained the theory behind the sexcation?”
“I understand; I just want to make sure you understand as well. I’m attracted to you, I enjoy you, and I’ll fuck you seven ways to Sunday all week, but that’s it.”
“Fantastic.” She lets her dress drop and pool around her feet, and she’s standing before me in a black push-up bra and nothing else. I peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth.
“Lose the bra.”
She bites her lower lip and complies, letting it fall to her side, and I have to take a long, slow breath. Her skin is perfection. Pale, smooth. Her nipples are a deep pink, and puckered. Her body is curvy in all the right places, and she is confident and proud, not hiding herself in the least.
“Fucking hell, you’re beautiful.”
“And you’re overdressed.”
She crosses to me and takes matters into her own hands, tugging my shirt up over my head, then licking her way down my torso as she slips my jeans down my hips.
“You like to go commando too,” she says with a smile as my cock slips out of the denim, practically smacking her in the face. She grips me in her firm fist and licks me, from balls to tip, in one motion, making my eyes cross.
“Thank God for commando,” I mutter, and bury my fingers in her hair, loosening it. “I haven’t even kissed you yet.”
“You’ll get to it,” she replies, and goes to town, sucking me and jacking me, and if I were ten years younger, I would embarrass myself horrifically right now. Instead, I grip
her shoulders and pull her up, lift her until she wraps her legs around my waist, and carry her to the bed, finally kissing her madly.
“You’re a good kisser,” she whispers against my lips.
“Likewise,” I reply, and lower her to the bed as I kiss her some more, nibbling her lips, the corner of her mouth, and down her neck to her collarbone. “God, you taste good.”
“You’re better than wine,” she says with a smile, then gasps when I suck her nipple into my mouth, then let go with a loud pop. “Jesus, that’s good.”
“Not too rough?”
“It’s never too rough, Mac,” she says, and buries her fingers in my hair, pulling firmly. I grin and bite her nipple, then leave wet kisses down her torso, her ribs, around her navel.
“You have an outie.”
“So do you,” she says with a laugh.
“That’s not my belly button, sweetheart.” I bite her belly for that, making her moan and squirm under me. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s responsive. “Maybe I should punish you for that.”
“Oh, yes please,” she says, nodding furiously. “I’m a naughty girl.”
“You’re a drunk girl,” I remind her, nibbling down her thigh. “You smell amazing.”
“I’m not so drunk anymore.” She plants her foot on my shoulder and raises her hips, offering her pussy to me, and I don’t disappoint her. I grip her ass in my hands and lick her smooth pussy. She gasps and pulls harder on my hair. “Fuck, you’re good at that.”
I smile against her and drag the tips of my teeth over her lips, dip my tongue into her opening, and up again to pull her clit into my mouth to suck hard. I slip two fingers inside her, and delight in her falling apart against my face, crying out, thrashing her head back and forth.
She’s squeezing my fingers like a fucking vise. I need to be inside her. I’m desperate for her.
But I don’t want to take this too fast.
I leisurely kiss up her body. “Look at how you blush for me, Kat.”
“I can’t open my eyes,” she replies, panting heavily. “I’m not convinced that I’m not dead.”
I pinch her nipple, making her yelp. “I don’t think you’re dead.”