Chapter 7: An Intoxicating Night

Words : 1619 Updated : Sep 18th, 2025

"Ah!" Mckenzie Looske let out a playful cry, then opened her eyes to look at the man sprawled over her. The teaching support instructor from the city was, without a doubt, the most handsome man she had seen in her thirty years. He oozed a rugged, masculine charm. "Nixon… you…" "Mckenzie, you're so soft." Nixon Walker reached for her, then thought better of it, pulling his hand back for reasons he couldn't quite name. Her cheeks flushed as she waited for his palm to find her chest. When he pulled away at the last second, a small pang of disappointment tightened inside her, though she dared not show it. Even so, that quick flicker in her eyes did not escape him. He was sure then that she felt the same way, only pride kept her from saying it out loud. "Mckenzie, let me help you up." He used the local honorific for an older woman-half respectful, half flirty-when he said her name. He pushed himself up and reached for her arm, intending to pull her from the ground. Before he had planted his feet, she seemed to stumble again over nothing at all and toppled toward him. She was obviously faking the fall, so Nixon went with it. He scooped her into his chest and went down with her, even rolling them once to make sure their bodies pressed closer, tighter. This time Mckenzie ended up on top. Her full weight settled on him, and he didn't mind it one bit. Who would feel burdened while cradling a beautiful woman? All he wanted was to press her down and make it even more real. Her breath, sweet as orchids, drifted up to his nose like a love potion, tugging at his very soul until he couldn't help himself. Soft all over and carrying only her natural, clean scent-not the artificial notes of shower gel-she was a lethal temptation to any man. Her sex appeal was effortless and natural-one in a million. If a man could have her just once, he'd die happy in her arms. She watched his breathing grow ragged and, pleased, shifted a little more weight onto his chest. She even made a guilty face. "Oh dear, Nixon, look at me. I fell again and dragged you down with me." "It's okay, Mckenzie. I'm a man-I've got you." He let the word "man" hang, suggestive, and his hand had somehow found the small of her back. He tightened his hold. "Ah…" The sound slipped from her, whether on purpose or not. It was the kind of sound a woman makes when things get heated. Her voice came soft and syrupy, irresistibly inviting. Mckenzie had been widowed five years. In those five years, she had not lived a normal life. She fed herself and her daughter, and she worked the fields alone. If the village chief hadn't quietly helped her all this time, she might not have made it through at all. Help, of course, came at a price. The only price she could pay was her body. Only the chief, already an old man, could not do much anymore. Even with pills, he lasted only minutes. For all the support he gave, every time had her looking over her shoulder, and she had never once been satisfied. More times than she could count, she had longed for a strong, handsome man to rescue her. Now Nixon Walker was exactly that. He was young, built, full of strength. The first day she saw him from afar, her eyes drifted to the bulge in his pants. She knew then he was well-endowed, and his prowess would likely not disappoint. Nixon broke into her drifting thoughts. He lifted his head, brought his lips to her ear, and lowered his voice. "Mckenzie, your voice is so sexy… let me hear it again?" "Mm-hmm… you're awful… you tease." She trailed off, teasing him with the village's playful "little brother," a counterpart to "jie," that turned respect into flirtation. Throwing caution to the wind, he slid both hands to the hem of her blouse and slipped beneath the fabric. Her skin was silky-smooth, warm to the touch, irresistible under his palms. While his hands roamed, he watched her face. She did not resist. If anything, her expression turned deliberately inviting. Her eyes went half-lidded; her soft lips parted. Her chest rose and fell. Breathy, broken syllables spilled out. Her breath fanned his face; he drank it in and breathed heat back against her skin. "I'm so lonely… you know what I mean, don't you?" She hesitated, then let her true feelings slip. "I know." Nixon nodded and pulled her upright with him, holding her close. She followed his lead and swung a leg over to straddle his lap. "Mckenzie, I really want you." Heat had already pooled low in him. He was ready. Yet when he looked at the lovely woman in his lap, eyes shining with a thin glaze of tears, something in him paused. "Anytime you want me, just come find me. I'll take care of you." His hands kept moving as he spoke. He had already found the clasp at her back and worked it open with practiced ease. A sudden flash of white filled his vision. Nixon's heartbeat kicked up. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, drew her closer, then lowered his head…

Chapter 7: An Intoxicating Night

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