Page 5 of Mine to Possess (Veteran K9 Team #3)

Chapter Five

Barron

D onning the pair of gray sweatpants and long sleeve Henley I had in my bag, I grab Sarge’s bed and blanket, as well as her food bowl, out of the truck and set up a spot for her near the fire. I’m not sure this house allows dogs, but at her age, she doesn’t cause much trouble anymore.

She does shed all year long, so I’ll keep her off of the furniture this one time to protect Betty’s damage deposit.

I’m glad Brandi is okay and Linc found her, but something tells me he was not telling us the full story over the radio.

The mom seemed cryptic too, and I’m wondering if she’s hurt.

Obviously, she’s not critically injured, or else Linc would never risk her well-being by refusing an emergency evacuation.

Maybe he’s hoping to spend some time with her—a little forced proximity where the two of them have no choice but to get to know each other. Not that Linc would do that on purpose, but he would jump at the chance if it was available.

Am I any better, using the storm and Betty’s missing mother as an opportunity to offer my company?

No. I suppose I’m not.

Betty comes down the stairs with wet hair, polar bear pajama bottoms, and a soft fuzzy sweater. She scrubbed her face clean and absolutely glows with touchable softness. “You took a shower?”

“How could you not tell me I had mascara down to my cheekbones?” She strikes a pose with her hands on her hips, which pulls her sweater tight against her puckered nipples.

I shake my head and cast my eyes down, because god damn, the vision of her makes my mouth water. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”

“Flattered?” I grin and bring my head up. “I think you’re beautiful, no matter what.”

She drops her hands and takes a few steps toward me. “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me beautiful. You’re already in the house.”

I close the space between us, waiting until she tilts her head back to look up at me. “Let’s get one thing straight, bunny. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass. If I say you’re beautiful, it means I find you fucking breathtaking, and you’re going to have to accept that.”

Betty licks her lips. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” My gaze goes to her pouty lips before coming back up to her eyes. “Oh.”

She sucks in her breath. “Do you want that tour now?”

In my head I’m screaming ‘No, I don’t want a fucking tour. I want to lay you out on this countertop and fucking feast.’

Instead, I nod my head. “Yeah, give me the tour.”

She walks me through the ground floor. Two smaller bedrooms, a ski in/ski out mudroom and a glass-enclosed hot tub with an adjoining sauna. Kitchen, living room, and a private office complete the main level—everything tastefully decorated and made for VRBO hospitality.

We’re climbing the ornate staircase when Betty reaches out and intertwines her fingers with my hand. “Do you live on the mountain all year, or somewhere else during the summer?”

Heat travels up my arm from the simple touch, our joined hands feeling more than natural—it's comforting, like I’m finally home.

“I live and work in Spring City. We’re only up here on the weekends when we’re scheduled to work.

It’s a nice perk—free housing and skiing—and it’s a nice break from the kennels.

Plus, once you get on the mountain’s payroll, you don’t want to fall off. ”

“I live in Spring City. I moved there in September from Phoenix.”

“What brought you to town?”

“A great job with the PR firm Taylor & Morvick.”

“What do you do for them?”

“I’m on the social media management team. I study the platform algorithms and trending designs and help build catchy advertisements for our clients.”

“So that’s why you’re on your phone all the time.”

She blushes a bit. “I know it’s annoying. My mom hates it too.”

That stings a little, but I try to blow it off. “Not annoying, but I guess I won’t take it personally if you feel the need to check your phone often while we’re hanging out.”

Her eyes sparkle as she looks into mine. “All you have to do is give me a reason to put it down, and I will.”

“Where is your phone right now?”

She beams. “Downstairs on the counter.”

“Mmmm. Good girl.”

She gushes under my praise, something I’m very aware of as it speaks to the dominant streak within me.

Good girl works for her.

I wonder what else will?

We arrive at the landing at the top of the stairs. She points to the left. “Upstairs, there are four bedrooms, two of which are primary suites. There’s also two smaller bedrooms in the middle with a Jack-and-Jill separating them. The one to the left is my mother’s room, and this one is mine.”

This is moving fast, our mutual attraction so palpable, I can taste it on my tongue. I know I should slow this down, yet I can’t stop the words from spilling from my lips. “Are you going to show me your bedroom, Betty?”

She bites her lip. “If you want to see it.”

“I definitely want to see it.”

She walks forward, pulling me behind her with our hands still joined.

I feel like a kid. My gut tightens into a ball, anticipation and excitement warring for dominance in my body.

The bedroom is posh opulence at its finest. There’s a huge king-size bed against one wall—and the wall to the left is pure glass windows overlooking the mountain.

Across from the bed is an enormous fireplace with two chairs sitting in front of it.

On the fourth wall is an open archway into the en suite bathroom.

Leaning against the wall next to the door is a giant mirror—at least seven feet tall by five feet wide—giving me all kinds of filthy ideas.

Laid across the floor is a large sheepskin rug—white and fluffy—but if I had my way, I’d move it in front of the hearth so we could stretch out on it in front of a roaring fire.

“Damn. So this is how the one percent lives, huh?”

“I don’t have this kind of money. We’ve done nothing like this before.”

“I didn’t say that as a jab to you, Betty, but could you imagine coming home to this every day?”

She shakes her head. “I couldn’t imagine having to clean it every day.”

I snort. “I don’t think people who live in houses like this clean them themselves.”

She giggles. “True.”

Wiggling her fingers, she moves to let go of my hand, but I can’t have that. I pull her fingers to my lips, kissing each tip gently. “What games do you want to play?”

Shaking her head, she glues her eyes to my lips. “I think there are some board games downstairs.”

“What does the winner get?”

“I guess that would depend on who the winner is.”

“What if I won? What would I get?”

“What do you want?”

I grin. “How about a kiss?”

“You don’t have to lose to me for that.”

Damn. That’s all I needed to hear.

I pull her into my arms, snaking my hand around her waist while I slide the other into her hair. We press our bodies together, but I hold back on claiming her mouth, taking a moment to stare into her big brown eyes while trying to convey my thoughts without having to say the words.

Tell me to stop.

Tell me this is too fast.

Tell me I’m a dirty old man and I shouldn’t be touching you like this.

Of course, I say none of these things.

She lifts on her toes, touching the tip of her nose to mine. “Are you going to claim your prize?”

“I have done nothing to deserve a prize yet.”

“You taught me how to stand up on skis today, gave me penguin slippers and sinfully delicious hot chocolate, all the while helping to ensure my mom is safe.”

“Good point. I guess I deserve a little something.” I kiss her gently, pressing my lips softly against hers at first. It only takes one moan from Betty, her eyes fluttering close as she sinks into my embrace, and any semblance of control I have flies out the window.

She grips my biceps and urges me on, parting her lips with a soft sigh. I slip my tongue into her mouth and pull her tighter against my body.

Our tongues tangle as my hand slips down to cup her plump ass, pulling her even tighter against my hardening cock. “Oh fuck, I knew you would be sweet.”

“Don’t stop, Barron.”

“What are you saying, bunny?”

She looks me in the eye, her gaze unwavering in her conviction. “I’m saying it’s been a long time since somebody has touched me. I don’t want you to stop.”

“Is this a secret one-time thing, Betty, or are we open to more?”

“Secret?” Her brow furrows, letting me know she has no idea what I’m talking about.

“We’re one hundred miles away from home and your mother is out for the evening. I’m wondering if this is a one-time thing or would you let me take you to dinner in Spring City?”

Her smile is electric. “You’re asking me out.”

It’s a statement, not a question.

“Yes.”

“I’d love to go out with you.”

“Good.” I lean forward and claim her lips again, letting my hands slide down her back, cupping and pulling her ass against me again. I back her up until her thighs hit the mattress, and she has no choice but to sit down.

Reaching behind my head, I yank off my Henley and toss it on the floor beside me.

She sucks in her breath, her eyes lighting up as they move over my body. “Damn.”

I’m a mountain man with a lot of silver speckled chest hair and considering I’m at least fifteen years older than her, I’m wondering if she’s been with somebody built like me. Not knowing makes me a bit self-conscious. “What does damn mean?”

She slides her fingers through the hair on my chest, circling and flicking my nipple with her thumb. “You are all man, Barron—” a blush hits her cheeks. “What’s your last name?”

“Theroux. What’s yours?”

“Appleton.”

In my head, I’m thinking Betty Theroux sounds better, but I’m obviously not going to say that.

Sliding my fingers underneath the bottom of her sweater, I lift gently. She raises her arms over her head for me, making it easy to pull both her sweater off, leaving her bare for my gaze.

Fuck me, I knew she had full breasts, but she’s perfect for a man my size.

I cup her drool-worthy, mouthwatering flesh in my hands, barely able to contain her. “You are perfect.”

Betty isn’t shy, reaching forward to stroke my erection through my sweatpants.

I groan, tilting my face to the ceiling and closing my eyes. Her touch is authoritative and demanding, telling me she knows exactly what she wants.

Me.

Fuck, this is going to happen.

I haven’t been this excited about a woman in a long time and I never expected to meet somebody here on the slopes.

I usually avoid the women on the mountain because we have nothing in common.

Anyone who can afford to live up here is outside my price bracket, not that I’m some slouch.

I do well enough, but not million-dollar condos at the ski resort well.

She reaches into my sweatpants and pulls out my cock, the cool air hitting the pre-cum dripping from the head. But that doesn’t matter, because then she’s wrapping her lips around me, the heat from her mouth pure fucking heaven.

“Oh fuck,” I hiss, looking down to find my woman swallowing me as deep as she can. I slide my hand into her hair, fighting an impulse to fist her strawberry-blonde locks and fuck her pretty mouth.

“God damn, Betty.”

“Do you like it?”

“You feel fucking amazing.”

“You have a nice cock worthy of worship.”

And with those eight words, I can’t control myself.

I fist my hand in her hair and pull her off of me, picking her up and throwing her back on the bed.

I’m on my knees between her legs in seconds, pulling her pajama pants down before she stops bouncing, and pushing her thighs apart to find her pussy glistening with her arousal. “Did sucking my cock get you hot?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to come for me when I fuck you with my tongue?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

I dive in with the vigor of a starved man put in front of a buffet, licking and sucking on her slit until her engorged clit throbs for me. She rides my face with wanton abandon, her fingers digging into my hair, her nails scraping against my scalp.

“Yes, Barron. Please, right there. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Oh my God.” She explodes, her thighs clamping down on my head, legs shaking as her arousal floods my mouth. She’s fucking sweet, like pineapple, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of her taste on my tongue.