“Like hell it’s not! Every woman on the mountain would kill to be playing house with that man. Don’t squander it.”
“Sure, but he’s also still living in the house he shared with his wife, God rest her soul. I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship. I think he was just trying to help.”
“Not true,” Ivy says as though it’s gospel. “Men don’t do anything out of the kindness of their hearts. There’s always a motive. The motive here is that he likes you and felt some sort of protective instinct. That’s hot. You should run with it.”
“And the part about him still living in the farmhouse his wife dreamed about? I’m pretty sure I’m sitting in her bathtub right now, watching him lift a bucket of feed intoherhorse stall.”
“Might be her stalls, but it’s not her tub. He remodeled the farmhouse like two years ago. I remember him coming down to the design studio ordering a bunch a tile. That was when I still thought working every day was going to get me some land, remember?”
“I remember you hated that job.”
“I did and now look at me.” I hear the grin in her voice. “I’m about to have everything I’ve ever wanted with a virgin auction.”
“We’re still on that?” I speak as I watch Wade guide a horse from the back stall out into the pasture.
“Yes!” she snaps playfully. “We’re still on that. Now, take a page from my book and go let the big handsome man touch your body.” I’ve known Ivy since grade school, and though she used to be very timid and shy, she’s really come out of her shell in the last few years, hence the virgin auction that I’m still trying to talk her out of.
“You’re probably right,” I laugh.
“I am. So go get that big hot giant and give me all the details tomorrow after my brothers leave and my house is put back together…hopefully.”
“I’ll say a prayer for you.”
“I’m gonna need it.”
We laugh, hang up the line, and I glance out the window again to see Jasper out in the pasture running wild through the mud and small piles of snow still left over from the storm last weekend, and a swell of happiness rolls over me.
This is what I want for him. Wide open spaces. A place to run. A place for him to get dirty and really experience life.
Too bad all of this is temporary.It’s a gorgeous property that’s sunk into the valley with tall pine, cedar and aspen trees lining the edges of a white stockade fence.
I glance beyond the pasture, back toward the barn where Wade tacks up an older looking mare. From this distance, it’s hard to see the details of what he’s doing, but it’s not hard to see his giant biceps expand. It’s also not so hard to see the dark ink flexing on his forearms, or the way his shoulders square when he readjusts the halter.
He’s big, rugged, rough, and the urge to know what it feels like to have him in control with his weight on top of me is overwhelming.
My clit throbs, and without more thought, I spread my legs and tuck my hand between them.
There are so many things going on in my life right now. I should be thinking about where I’m going to live, what I’m going to tell Jasper when he realizes we’re not going home, what I’m going to do with the rest of my life, but none of that matters. Right now, I can’t think about anything but the giant with the horse reins in his hands.
I slide my finger against my swollen clit and rub, feeling it swell beneath the sloshing water. Oh my God, I want him! I want to know what Wade’s cock would feel like sliding inside of me, spreading me wide, making me come! I want to know what his rough hands would feel like on my skin, what his teeth would feel like on my neck, what his rough voice would sound like in my ear!
My eyes shut as I lean back into the fantasy, imagining my fingertips tangled in his chest hair, his rough hands on my hips, my lips on his cock, my pussy in his face, his demands that are loud and feral.
I rub my clit faster, biting back moan after moan. Dear God, this feels good. It’s been so long since I’ve thought about sex, let alone had an orgasm.
I squeeze my eyes tighter and rub faster, desperate to come, desperate to release, desperate for every muscle in my body to relax at once. I’m moaning and nearly there when I hear heavy footsteps outside the door.
“Hello?”
He steps forward, his face a shade of red they save for Christmas ribbons. “I’m so sorry. I was coming in to grab something from the back room. I’ll only be a second.”
I stare at him, unsure of what to say or do or think.
He must’ve heard me moaning. He probably heard me moaning. He had to have seen me scrubbing my clit like a dirty, little troll in his pretty, turquoise tiled bathroom.
Oh God! What do I do? What do I say? How do I ever look him in the eye again?
My face heats and my throat begins to close. I need to say something. Anything. Literally any word at all… except nothing comes out. Nothing comes out, and I stay sat like a stupid, little idiot with her hand still on her clit.
