Love at First Campfire Bonus Scene
Jess
TWO YEARS LATER
The room is dark, and Logan’s at my side, peering into the screen. “How the heck do you know what you’re looking at?”
Polly, the radiology tech laughs, “Experience. Lots of experience.” Hollister is small, and Logan went to school with her. I can tell she’s impressed to see him so domestic. And I can’t blame her, having heard the local rumor mill about him. But Logan couldn’t be a more devoted husband.
I ignore the weird feeling of cold goo on my stomach and narrow my eyes, looking at our baby. I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s the most wonderful sound … since the day I heard Logan’s voice on the cliff.
“Wait, what’s that?” He asks, pointing towards the screen. I can no longer hold back a giggle.
For months now, he’s told me we’re having a girl. But I know better. The little boy I dreamed about on the cliff remains buried in my heart. I can’t explain it, but there’s a certainty about him. I know I’ll see him again soon. I even know what his name will be—Oliver Wyatt.
I haven’t convinced Logan of the name, but we have a deal. If I prove correct, I get to name our son; if he’s right, he gets to name our daughter. Opal Jean is his choice. I haven’t told him that he’ll get to use his choice in a few years. The man who scales rock faces and drops out of helicopters in his free time remains overwhelmed by all this baby stuff.
And I get it. There’s a part of me that worries, too. I don’t want to repeat the mistakes my parents made, and it’s hard to know where to start after growing up in a dysfunctional family. Add to that Logan’s concerns about his father and not wanting to pass on bad genes (as he puts it), and it’s taken us time to feel comfortable about having a baby.
“What do you think that is?” The radiologist asks with a laugh.
Logan peers at the screen, and then he turns to me. “What would that be on a little girl?”
I can’t take it anymore. “Baby, it’s a boy. That’s a penis.”
After all we’ve been through, I’m shocked to see his cheeks darken slightly. Have I finally found something that embarrasses my husband?
“You need to put a post-it over that or something. I don’t want everyone looking at it.”
I laugh again, and Polly joins in.
“He’ll be wearing clothes soon enough. By the way, how’s the baby shopping going, Mrs. Caples?” she asks.
“There’s still a lot to do,” I reply.
He shrugs. “We’re taking our time. The nursery’s done, though.”
“Done but about to get a remodel,” I correct.
He lets out a sigh. “I was sure it was a girl.”
Polly laughs.
“I don’t want to say this,” I reply, “But I told you so.”
“I still don’t get it. How did you know?”
I shrug. “A mother’s intuition.”
He sighs, squeezing my hand. “Time to stock up on blue paint.”
“Or we could go neutral since the next one’ll be a girl,” I blurt out before catching myself.
He shakes his head. “Wife, stop it with the psychic revelations already.”
Polly wipes the jelly from my stomach, pulling down my shirt. She slowly increases the light in the room and heads to the printer as Logan helps me up.
Retrieving the strip of sonogram photos from Polly, he thanks her as we head out. I notice him stealing glances at the images on the way to the truck, a huge smile plastered on his face.
I can’t help myself as I say, “You know, he’s going to look exactly like you.”
“Is he now?” The handsome mountain man asks, boosting me into the Chevy before kissing my lips tenderly. He looks at the photos again and then places them carefully in my lap.
“I know you lost the bet, but are you happy?”
“Happier than I ever thought possible,” he replies, placing a hand on either side of my belly and leaning down to kiss it. The baby kicks, and he laughs.
“We may have a football player in there, after all.” Next, he covers my lips with his own for a deep, penetrating kiss.
“What’s up next, husband?”
He cocks his head to the side with a smile. “Sex, more sex, more sex, and then maybe some sleep.”
I laugh, slapping his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?
“Everyone keeps telling me we’ve got to catch up on sleep before the baby comes. I figure the same thing’s true with sex. Are you on board, baby?”
“Strings attached?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Logan turns the radio up as we drive towards the cabin, and I steal side glances at him. From his black hair to his well-trimmed beard and rugged chin, the sight of my husband still takes my breath away. And his virile, masculine smell sets me on fire, all woodsy and soapy from our morning shower.
Morning shower. The thought of that steamy, slippery, wonderful episode makes my whole body vibrate. I let go of Logan’s hand, sliding mine until it cups his cock.
“Fuck, Jess, you make me the worst damn driver. You know that?” I massage into his hardening cock, and he lets out a dark, thick moan, barely able to finish his statement.
“I can’t wait. I need you so badly, husband. It’s crazy. I feel like an animal. Besides, you’re the one that brought up ‘sex, more sex, and more sex.’ I believe those were your exact words?”
“Leave it to a true crime reporter to quote me,” he pants. The feel of his firm, unyielding arousal behind the zipper of his Levis nearly undoes me, putting a thick lump of desire in my throat. I try to unzip his pants, thinking about sinking my head down over his cock and what his driving would look like then. But the zipper won’t budge against the strain of his manhood, and besides, I’ve got a prominent stomach, affecting my flexibility now. “Fuck,” is all he manages as he turns onto the road to our cabin.
Thank goodness Hollister has a good obstetrician that’s close to the house, so I won’t have to wait much longer. My pussy is already tight and throbbing, and I need him more than breath.
“I’m going to crash, baby. Seriously,” he growls, removing my hand. He reaches over to my side, his hand trying desperately to find the bottom of my skirt. “Help me, Jess. Please. I’ve got to know what’s got my girl so horny.”
I pull up my skirt, and he sinks his strong hand beneath the waistband of my dripping panties, letting out a sharp exhale. “Oh, that’s what it is. You’re fucking soaked for me, baby. I’m a bad husband. I shouldn’t have let this go so long.”
His rugged fingers slide through my folds until they feel as silky and slick as I do, and he finds my pearl, teasing me. My core’s already tightening, dangerously close to coming. “Bad husband? How could that be? Remember what you did to me in the shower this morning?”
“Yeah, bad husband because I made you wait too fucking long, and now we’re never going to get inside the house. Be forewarned. I’m eating out your pussy in this damn truck as soon as we park, so get ready to spread your legs, baby.”
“And then what?” I challenge.
His cheeks darken, and he shoots me the most adorable look. “What, that’s not enough for you, lover?”
“Not nearly enough,” I reply in a sassy tone. His finger penetrates me, finding my G-spot, and I can barely breathe.
“Normally, I’d pull you up into my arms so that you can wrap those thick thighs around me and ride my cock as I plunge into you. But, no offense, our baby’s starting to get in the way of that.”
I laugh breathily, shifting in my seat as his fingers continue to intensify my need. “None taken. This belly’s your fault anyway.”
“And you know I love it, and every other thing about you, wife.” He pulls his fingers out of my panties, bringing them to his mouth and greedily licking them off. I’m shivering with desire, my lower core tensing even more. I need a release so badly that my legs shake. The tires of his truck squeal down our driveway, and he stops abruptly. His face is hot with desire, and his voice is shaky as he says, “You stay right there.”
“Seriously? In the middle of the day? Outside?”
He jogs around to the passenger side, unceremoniously opening the door and taking off my seatbelt. He grabs my knees, turning me towards the side, and lifts up my skirt, letting his fingertips stroke up and down the length of my legs. His featherlight touch makes me shiver even more, and he stares greedily at my hot, wet core and the panties he just played with. “These legs are the two sexiest things in the world. And I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he smiles up at me, parting them.
“Really? Here?”
“I warned you. Now get comfortable,” he replies darkly, sliding my satin panties to the side and leaning in to swipe my pussy with his tongue. I’m already so close to orgasm that the sensation nearly kills me. I arch my back, letting out a high-pitched cry, and he growls, diving into me and laying his claim.
“I could do this all damn day,” he moans, devouring every inch of me, sucking on my pussy lips, and making all sorts of naughty, wet noises. I can feel the roughness of his beard on me and the contrast of his soft, hot mouth. He plunges into me again, fucking me with his tongue and circling my clit with his thumb until my whole body writhes and contracts under him. He stands up with a pleased look on his face, rubbing his hand over his beard and mouth.
I feel wonderfully sated and lazy under his burning gaze as I recline back on the truck’s bench seat. But despite the release, my core instantly re-tightens as I hear the zipper of his jeans. “Oh, Logan,” I barely manage before he grabs onto my ample hips, pulling me towards him. “Right here? Right now?” I pant again, sitting up so that I can wrap my arms around his neck.
“Don’t give me that shy act, Jess. Right here, right fucking now,” he commands, swiping the head of his cock, already dripping pre-cum, through my wet folds and sending me into more convulsions. “What’s the matter?” he asks thickly.
“I’m so sensitive,” I manage on a ragged exhale.
“You don’t even know what sensitive is, yet, baby. But you’re about to find out,” he promises, swiping the head of his cock over my engorged clit and making me scream. I need him so badly and the tension’s ratcheted so tightly in my pussy that I feel every slick, thick inch of him as he sensually takes me.
He doesn’t stop until he’s seated completely inside me, and my pussy’s already clenching and throbbing around him. He pauses for a long moment, trying to calm his breathing and looking to the side to distract himself. Then, he starts moving, drawing his massive rod all the way in and out of me so that I feel every second of his slow, demanding stroke, from his hot tip on my pussy lips all the way to his full girth at the center of my core.
Digging my nails into his muscular back, I scream, hearing the cry echo off into the distance. Thank goodness we’re on ten acres, although I hardly care now as my husband drives into me again and again until I explode all over his cock.
“I love the smell of your cum,” he growls, changing the angle and lengthening his stroke until I’m a panting, sweaty mess. With another needy pull of my hips, he comes into me, leaning against me as I feel tremors of desire rock his core and his heat fill me in waves.
“Damn, woman. You are so dangerous,” he breathes into my hair, covering my face with kisses. I can smell and taste myself on him as I return those kisses.
“Am I worth it?” I ask seductively, palming his bearded cheek and staring up into his big, warm, mahogany eyes.
“Worth every minute of every day for the rest of my life.”
“That’s a long one-night stand,” I tease, and his soft lips capture mine tenderly.
“This is all I want for the rest of my life,” he growls fiercely, wrapping me in his warm, safe embrace. “You forever, baby.”
If working for my high school crush makes me a masochist, count me in. Rough & Ready Country’s star football player-turned-sheriff has held me under his sway for years. But while I drool, he barely notices I exist. Until I blindside him with a career jump, creating much-needed space he’s reluctant to give.
When my new job title lands me in hot water, my former boss rides to the rescue.
Now, I’ve got his full attention. The question is: What will I do about it? After years of playing it safe, I have more than a few ideas.
If you love rugged western landscapes, a sexy small-town sheriff, and a curvy girl who knows how to get what she wants, one click now to devour Love at First Rescue.
