His Big Package (Mistletoe Montana, 4) Read online

  How wet would she be for me? She’d have to be drenched to accept the monster between my legs comfortably. It was a curse and a blessing to have such a big dick, and all these years, I’d been celibate for Blythe. I knew that without a doubt.

  Tonight, I’d make her mine. No matter what.

  Blythe

  Three hours later and the last family was being ushered out of the department store. The staff was busy doing some final touches, and I heard they would finish up cleaning and tearing things down tomorrow before the store opened.

  And here I was, very, very aware of the fact that Logan spent any free time he had looking in my direction. Because of the role I played at the event, I had to stand by his side the entire time, a basket of candy canes in my hand, handing one to each child after they were done telling him what they wanted for Christmas.

  I was very aware of the feel of his body so close to mine, of his heat penetrating me, how my skin felt tight, how my breathing had been so damn erratic. I tried to play it off like I was fine, adjusting the curly white wig on my head, the red bonnet that sat on top of it. I tried to do everything, focus on anything else that wasn’t him. But that was like trying to not notice a giant elephant stomping through a China store.

  I excused myself as I went to the back room to change and get out of this godforsaken outfit. Before I stepped inside, I looked over my shoulder and saw that, yup, Logan was looking right at me. His expression was positively… scorching.

  There was this look in his green eyes, one that held a hell of a lot of promise. I wasn’t sure what that promise was, but I knew what I wanted it to be.

  After shutting myself in the back room, I busied myself with putting my street clothes on. I hung up the costume and then looked at myself in the mirror. I was dressed like I was in damn Antarctica, but then again, Montana this time of year was frigid. My jeans were form-fitting, tucked into my UGG boots.

  My shirt was white cashmere, a present my mother had gotten me last year for the holidays. It certainly wasn’t something I could have ever afforded, so I wore it on special occasions… and I hoped tonight would be a very special occasion.

  It was form-fitting, accenting my breasts, making them look a little bigger than they really were. I buttoned up my red peacoat, the wool soft and thick, the color bright like blood when it hits oxygen. I was starting to sweat, but it didn’t have anything to do with my layers and everything to do with the arousal pumping through my veins.

  I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I’d been on this perpetual ledge of arousal ever since my first meeting with Logan. And that had been how long ago? It seemed equal parts a lifetime ago and just the other day. I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly, trying to catch my breath, failing miserably.

  I exhaled, feeling weak and far too shy, because I knew I couldn't make the first move where Logan was concerned. I resolved myself that tonight I was going to stop by the grocery store, grab a big bottle of wine, a tub of ice cream, take a scolding hot bubble bath, and pout about why I didn’t just go for it with Logan.

  He might watch me, and I definitely felt sexual, attracted vibes coming from him, but I was far too scared to be the “aggressor.”

  A bubble bath and getting drunk wasn’t what I particularly wanted to do tonight. What I really wanted to do was the man outside currently dressed as Santa. But I wasn’t going to let my thoughts go that way. Nope. Negative. Hard pass. Although it seemed my body had other plans as sexual thoughts of him slammed through me.

  I felt my body warm, soften. My nipples tingled, my pussy wet. My body prepared itself for what was most definitely not going to happen—not tonight, at least.

  I moved away from the mirror and headed toward the door to leave, telling myself I’d make a beeline right to the front door and leave without one backward glance. I didn’t want to be trapped in his stare again, snared by the ferocious look in his eyes or the heat from his big, powerful body.

  I focused on the ground, people milling all around, a holiday song softly playing overhead, my mind and body at war about leaving because I knew Logan was here. I was thankful I’d opted to take an Uber to the department store, not wanting to deal with the crowd and the steady snow falling since this morning. My mind was so wrapped up in Logan that I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on driving if I’d taken my own car to Morton’s.

  And then my body was stopped, the massive chest in front of me like a wall of solid rock.

  I gasped and stumbled back, my feet twisting out from under me. I knew I was falling, that the ground would come up fast, embarrassment the main worry I had. But then I felt strong hands grip my waist and steady me. I was being lifted up like I weighed nothing. On instinct, my hands landed on the chest, my fingers curling into the hardness. God, it was like iron under my nails.

  I knew it was Logan before even lifting my gaze to his face. I smelled his cologne, or maybe it was just his natural scent. Either way, it made me feel drunk with need and want. I was dizzy, excited, so breathless that when I did lift my focus to his eyes, I couldn’t catch my breath.

  And then I was looking into a pair of deep-green eyes. My breath faltered.

  I’ve been looking for you.

  I’ve been thinking about you.

  So much. So, so much.

  I want you.

  Thank God I was with it enough not to blab that out loud.

  I took a step back and inhaled deeply, trying to find my center, trying not to look like I was totally aroused right now. Which I was, but that was beside the point.

  “Hey,” he said, and I shivered—yeah… actually freaking shivered at the way his voice moved over my body.

  “Hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave and promptly clenched my jaw and closed my eyes as I instantly felt like an idiot. When I opened my eyes again, I felt how hot my cheeks were, but it wasn’t my embarrassment that had my breath stalling. It was the way he looked at me.

  So. Intently.

  “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said and then exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath this whole time.

  My eyes went wide, my eyebrows no doubt practically up to my hairline. That certainly wasn’t what I expected him to say.

  “Shit,” he grumbled and looked down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to just spit that out like that.” Logan lifted his head, his eyes locking on mine once more. “But it’s the truth. Ever since I saw you that first time, you’re all I can think about, Blythe.”

  My heart was beating so hard it was actually painful. And there was no way I could form a coherent response in this moment.

  He took a step back, and maybe I should have retreated, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted Logan crowding the hell out of me. I had to tip my head back to keep looking into his face, this severe sincerity in his expression.

  This was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Heck, this was like nothing I had ever envisioned before. Here was this massively large man, all male, his masculinity pouring from him until I couldn’t breathe in the best way, and he was telling me he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about me.

  All I wanted to do was throw myself into his arms, and how fucking insane was that? But the need was so strong I actually felt myself take a step closer, as if I was actually going to press my body against his, as if I would soon be able to feel all that male hardness pressed to me.

  “Let me take you out.”

  His words had my body going tight, shock taking the front seat to my arousal.

  He stared right in my eyes. “Let me spend time with you, Blythe.”

  The way he said my name made me feel so... good. I still wanted to be naked with him, be sweaty and panting and moaning all the obscenities that came from taking a man such as him deep into my body. But I could be a lady, at least pretend to be right now. There was plenty of time for me to be horizontal with Logan.

  But on the heels of that thought, I knew that's not all I wanted. He confused me simpl
y because he had these emotions churning in me the likes of which were foreign. It not only confused me, but it trapped me deeply, and I didn’t want to get free.

  I licked my lips and continued to hold his very green stare, as I said softly, “Okay. I’d like that.”

  5

  Logan

  I could tell she was nervous. She kept messing with her linen napkin, then running her finger across the edge of her wine glass. She would glance at me every once in a while, then look away quickly as not to seem obvious.

  I liked that I put her on edge, fucking loved that she was aroused. That was plain as day by the way her pupils were fully blown, how her cheeks were tinged pink, by the way she was breathing a little faster and harder. I wasn’t even going to bring up the fact that her little nipples were hard enough to cut glass under her white cashmere-looking sweater.

  “Why’d you agree to go out with me tonight?” I brought my glass of beer to my mouth and took a long drink as I stared at her over the rim. She shifted in the chair, looking everywhere but at me.

  I was so turned on right now, and growing even more so by the way she squirmed, by how nervous I made her. I set the glass down and leaned forward, staring directly into her pretty blue eyes. I’d never seen a shade of blue like that, and never in my life been so transfixed by a single human being that they were my sole focus.

  “Because,” she said slowly and looked up at me. I could see her resolve and strength growing in her, and goddamn that turned me on even more. “Because I’ve never felt like this, Logan.”

  My cock punched forward even more at the way she said my name. I didn't hide the groan that rumbled out of my chest. Her eyes widened slightly, and her pupils became even more dilated, the black eating up the blue.

  “What about you? Why did you ask me?” Her voice shook slightly, but I knew it wasn’t about fear or apprehension. It was about arousal.

  I could have lied, sugarcoated this shit. But what was the point? “Because I saw you and I wanted you.”

  Her pulse started to beat faster beneath her ear.

  She was so fucking ready for me.

  So. Ready.

  And as I stared at her, I knew whatever this was that I felt, this chemistry, connection, the fucking hand of God, I’d never feel this way about anyone ever again. That told me my instinct on claiming her as mine was pretty fucking right.

  She was right. For me.

  I wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Why are you looking like that?”

  “Like what, Blythe?” I didn’t stop how the growl tore through my voice, making me sound less than civilized.

  “Like…” She exhaled slowly. “Like you’re still hungry, even though we just ate.” She picked up her wine glass, and I saw the way her hand shook.

  I forced myself to lean back nice and slow, resting against my chair, my gaze locked on hers.

  I am hungry, Blythe, but it’s not food that can sate me. It’s you.

  I didn’t say that, didn’t want to freak her the fuck out with the possessiveness I felt toward her.

  I knew one thing for certain. I didn’t want this night to end. I didn't want my time with Blythe to end. Ever.

  Blythe

  I’d only had two glasses of wine, but already I felt like a lush, a buzz moving through my veins enough that I knew if Logan asked me to go home with him tonight… I would.

  Who the hell am I kidding? I would have gone home with him even if I only drank water with my meal. I wanted him that much.

  I glanced at Logan as he paid for our meal, and then he was standing and helping me out of my seat before I could even do it myself. Listen, I was an independent, strong woman, but I wasn’t going to lie and say I didn't like the way he did these old-school practices.

  Opening the door for me.

  Holding the chair out for me to sit down.

  Allowing me to order first.

  It was nice and made me feel wholly feminine, like this was just who he was and not someone trying to impress me.

  As we stepped outside, a gust of wind slammed into me, and I tightened my coat over my body, tucking my chin to my chest as the chill raced over me. Logan had driven us to the restaurant right from Morton’s, but now I was contemplating maybe having taken an Uber here because the thought of being closed in with him again had my body heating painfully.

  But who was I kidding? Because as I looked up at him I knew what I wanted to do and going home alone wasn’t it.

  But I didn’t have the hypothetical balls to just tell him I wanted to sleep with him. Like really badly.

  He held out his arm for me, and as I slipped mine in his, I was struck again at how big Logan was. Heck, my head barely came to his pectoral muscle. And didn’t that just make me feel all feminine and warm.

  “Um,” I said after we’d taken that first step toward the parking lot.

  He stopped and looked down at me, the wind whipping my hair all over the place. “I…” I inhaled sharply, which had nothing to do with the frigid air. I pulled my arm from his and took a step back, mainly because I knew if he kept touching me I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.

  But moving away from him felt all kinds of wrong.

  His brows were furrowed low as he stared down at me. “What’s wrong?” God, he sounded so concerned.

  “If you didn’t have a good time, that’s okay.” His jaw was set hard after he spoke. “I can take you home right now. No worries.”

  I really didn’t know him, despite having spent the last two hours eating dinner with Logan. We might have spoken about everything and anything under the sun, and I may know far more about printing and his business than I ever thought possible, and I may have told him everything about me, even when I’d gotten gum stuck in my hair when I was five years old.

  But in the grand scheme of things, I didn't really know him. Well, that was what others would say anyway. In my heart—as strange as it was—I felt like I’d known Logan for years, like he’d been this integral part of who I was before I even knew it.

  “I had a nice time,” I whispered but knew he heard me. “I had a really good time, Logan.” I saw him visibly relax, and then he smiled.

  Take me to your place, I thought, my mouth opening as if I had the courage to just say what I wanted.

  My silence must have set him on edge, because he got that concerned look on his face again and took a step closer. “Blythe? You okay?” Yes, concern, that's what was laced in his voice. “I don’t want to be pushy. I just want to help if you need me to.”

  God, I was falling for this man.

  I’ve fallen for him.

  “Let’s go to your place.” The words tumbled out of me on their own. I watched as his eyes widened for a second, then his nostrils flared. God, the surprise on his face was clear as day.

  “Blythe?” My name was nothing more than a growl in his voice, one that had my pussy clenching. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking.”

  Oh, I knew. I really knew what I was asking.

  “I want to go back to your place, Logan,” I said again, not missing the heady quality in my voice, the very clear and real desire laced within those words.

  He didn’t move for a solid minute, but good God the sound that left him was equal parts animalistic need and territorial possessiveness. I felt my toes curl and my pussy get even wetter.

  He wanted me. I wanted him. And unless he put the brakes on this progressing, I was giving myself over to Logan fully.

  6

  Blythe

  A part of me couldn’t believe I was actually doing this, that I told Logan to take me to his house. But here I was, anticipating every single second. And the closer we got to his home, the more my blood sang.

  Logan asked me numerous times if I was sure, and although I knew he wanted to make sure I really was on board, I also knew he wanted this just as much as I did. The way he spoke, the fact that his voice was deeper, huskier, as if his very need was becoming a physical thing betwee
n us, cemented that this needed to happen.

  Never in my life had I felt the need to be with someone, and much less this strongly. It consumed me, warping my insides until the only thing that made sense was giving my virginity to Logan.

  The trip seemed to take forever, yet at the same time, we were pulling into the driveway of his home as if the ride happened in the blink of an eye.

  He cut the engine, and for long seconds, we sat there in silence. The only sound penetrating my lust-induced brain was of us breathing heavier than normal.

  I felt his eyes on me and turned my head to look at him. My breath caught at the expression on his face.

  He wanted me. Badly.

  The shadows covered his body partially; the light from the porch illuminated the other half. He was so big and imposing, and even though we sat in his huge Suburban, he made the damn SUV feel like a toy in size.

  “Let’s go inside,” I found myself whispering in the confines of the car. God, I could practically smell our combined arousal. It was heady and thick, and I felt my body prepare itself even more for what I wanted with Logan.

  He didn’t move for a moment, his body seeming to tighten, his muscles corded under his clothes. He stared right in my eyes before he exhaled on a shaky breath and got out of the SUV. I let my focus stay trained right on him as he moved around the front of the vehicle. And before I could even blink, the passenger side door was open, and Logan had his hands on my waist, helping me out of the behemoth of a vehicle and setting me on the ground. But he didn’t let go of me, just kept his big hands curled around my body as he stared into my eyes.

  Despite the coldness surrounding us from the winter weather, his heat had me sweating.

  Having him so close was like pouring accelerant on an open fire. Hell, he didn't even have to touch me for this blazing inferno to consume me from the inside out.