I fucked up.
She’s not coming back.
It’s pitch-black outside and Billie still hasn’t appeared at my doorstep.
I pace in front of the kitchen table, feeling sick to my stomach. Partly because I ate so much of that stupid, delicious pie, but mostly because I’m positive she’s done with me. Why couldn’t I just take the peach pie and say thank you? Why can’t I be a normal human being? It was just such an…unexpected gesture. It caught me off guard.
I didn’t want sweetness. I didn’t want kindness.
I wanted black and white, impersonal sex that wouldn’t bond me to her, any more than I already have been. Now she’s never coming back.
Voluntarily, at least.
Don’t think I won’t go down to that fucking ranch and get her. We had a deal.
I swipe five fingers through my hair, kicking a dining room chair so hard the leg snaps and sends the piece of furniturecrashing to the floor. “Goddammit!” I roar at the ceiling. “I’m going to give her ten more minutes.Ten.”
If she thinks I won’t knock on the front door of her house and haul her ass out, she’s dead wrong. I’ve only gotten a taste of her, but I haven’t had the full meal, and I’m dying for it. I’ve been hard since she came in the palm of my hand, shaking and whining, her gorgeous blue eyes trained on me, so overwhelmed. So full of pleasure.
I can’t think of anything else.
I can’t taste anything but the virgin blood I licked off my palm last night. Wetting the dried trail of it and using that slippery red streak to jerk off, grunting her name into my pillow, my hips raging forward, my unsatisfied meat cramming in and out of my fist. My sheets were soaked in sweat and come by the end of the night and I still had this lust for Billie running rampant inside of me. It’s a curse and the only thing that will break it is getting my cock inside of her as deeply as possible.
I wouldn’t mind hearing her sweet voice, either.
Even when I was arguing with her yesterday, I couldn’t help but think…
She’s funny as hell. Her spirit is like a beam of light.
I might have the upper hand in this arrangement, but no one would know it by the way she refuses to take my shit. The girl is a fresh drink of water down my parched throat.
And she’s late.
I snatch my hat off the peg, nearly wrenching the door off its hinged getting it open.
Billie is standing on my porch.
“Hi,” she says, wincing at whatever fresh hell is written on my face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, we had an emergency on the ranch.”
She steps into the light and I can see she’s filthy.
Her jeans and T-shirt are covered in dust. There’s a streak of mud on her cheek. When she removes her cowboy hat, there are blades of grass dangling in her hair.
“I know what you’re thinking. Wow, look at her. She’s dressed for seduction.” She gives me a lopsided smile that flips my gut upside down. “Can I use your shower? It’s for your benefit, as well as mine. I have been wrestling with a sick pig all afternoon.”
A whirlwind has entered my home.
She shucks off her boots at the door, hangs her hat and skips into my kitchen, opening the fridge. She bends down to look inside, then closes it just as fast, only now there is a broad smile on her face.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
Fuck my life. She must have seen I ate the peach pie.
“I don’t like wasting food,” I shout at her back as she swaggers down my hallway.
Turning the corner into the bathroom, she winks at me.
