"Okay," I mumble.
"Is that good?" she asks.
"Good?" I question, still trying to shake off her scent, but it's like it's permanently seeping into my lungs.
She breathlessly answers, "You know. To um...sneak away?" She pins a look on me that makes me almost come in my Wranglers. Her wide eyes glisten with hope, lashes slowly fluttering just a few times to draw me further in, and her flushed cheeks don't relent.
Sneak...
I straighten up.
Chelsea.
"Oh. Right. Yes. That's good. See you later, Willow." I turn and hightail it out of the barn, passing Jagger on my way to the corral.
"Where've you been?" he questions.
Guilt hits me.
What just happened in there?
"Barn," I answer, continuing to walk.
"Doing what?" he asks.
"Chores. What else?" I snap.
"Touchy, touchy," he chides.
I stop and release a breath. "Sorry, man. Hey, why don't we ride down to the lake?"
He takes a minute, pretends to think, then says, "Sorry. Mom and Dad have a birthday dinner planned for you."
"Right. I forgot."
He glances at his watch. "You should go shower. They want to eat early," he lies.
"Sure. See you later," I say, happy to get away from him, still perturbed over my encounter with Willow.
I avoid the others, going straight upstairs when I get into the house. I head for the bathroom, and turn on the shower. I don't bother to warm up the water. My hard-on won't go away. I'm imagining too many things I shouldn't be. At least, not when Willow Cartwright is the center of my lewd fantasies.
I step under the frigid water, which barely eliminates my bad thoughts. If anything, being naked only makes it worse. Within a minute, I'm imagining Willow on her knees, sucking me off while I grip the back of her head.
I groan, hating myself and this current predicament, but there's only one thing to do. I pour soap into my hand, then jack myself off until I'm drained of every thought I should never have thought in the first place.
I step out of the shower, wrap a towel around my body, then put my hands on the counter. I stare at my reflection, muttering, "It's never happening. Think of Chelsea."
My eyes stare back at me, void of all the fantasies I used to have of Chelsea. And I don't get it. The girl's our homecoming queen, and every guy wants her. She's finally into me, and tonight was my big opportunity to show her what she's been missing out on.
Now, my mind won't stop returning to Willow's face and that damn look she gave me.
"Think Chelsea," I order myself.
Her face pops up next to Willow's, and I groan.
Nothing about Chelsea feels enticing anymore.
I rush into my room, pull out my phone, and study the photo I took of her. Her brown hair and blue eyes were the highlight and focus of my bedtime routine. I'd go to bed thinking about her and wake up the next morning immediately looking at her photo again. Right now, she seems ordinary.
