“Yes, Kara?” I liked saying her name. Even more than that, I liked her saying mine. I wanted to hear her whisper it into my ear real close in the dark, breathe it out needy, scream it out loud when she came.
The screen door slammed up at the big house. I knew Harlan would be by real soon. He’d want to get on the road.
“Guess I’d better get going,” she said. She didn’t move.
I brought my hand up over her head against the wall of the barn. I leaned over her. She wasn’t a tiny woman, she had real womanly curves and long legs, but right next to me she felt small and fragile. I could tell she was trembling. I could smell her strawberry hair, so soft. Her eyelids flickered closed for a moment, like she was about to swoon.
“You OK?” I whispered, real low in her ear.
“Mmm,” she murmured, swaying slightly toward me.
Still in that low whisper, I told her, “I’ll be thinking about you while I’m gone. How you tasted in the barn. And that moan I heard you make when you watched me get my cock sucked.”
Her eyes flew open, wide. I pulled back, shoving my hands into my pockets and taking a few steps away.
“You do the same now, y’hear?” I flashed her a grin like it was no big deal. Like I’d told her to say hi to her grandma for me.
She stayed pressed against the wall, breathing fast, her breasts heaving up and down, her tiny waist below. I just about rushed back and crushed her against me, pressed my lips to hers, the hell with it all.
Instead, I tipped the brim of my hat to her. Such a gentleman. Then I climbed into the truck with her father and drove off with a raging hard-on for his daughter. Not such a gentleman after all.
§
We came back from the trip early. Some meeting had fallen through, something else had come up back at the ranch. I didn’t feel like being out on the road with Harlan anymore anyway. He’d shot down my idea for wilderness tourism like I was an idiot. He didn’t see the point in it, didn’t believe anyone would ever pay to come out and do ranch work.
When you put it like that, it did sound stupid. Who would pay to do hard manual labor? But that wasn’t the point. You had to sell the idea of it, the lure of the wild. I’d seen it work at the other ranch where I’d spent my winter. I knew the idea had legs and I was pissed off that Harlan didn’t see. He was going to drive his ranch right into the ground and Kara’s future along with it if she didn’t get out in time. That’s what he was determined to do, but he was too blind and stubborn to see it.
Down at my cabin, the door was ajar. I didn’t like that. I’d spent one too many nights in mixed company, crashing in places where I didn’t have my own space and I couldn’t lock anyone out. Now that I had it, I was never going back. My place was my own. No one messed with it. I had a Swiss army knife in my back pocket. Slowly, I worked it into my palm as I silently eased open the door.
There, on my bed, lay Kara Brooks. She had her shirt pulled up and a full breast in her hand, kneading and stroking it. Her jean shorts were unbuttoned and wiggled down her hips. Her panties were pulled down. She had her hand on her pussy, her fingers deep up inside of her folds as she moaned and gasped and writhed on my bed.
“Uh! Oh!” she called out in need, pleasuring herself with fast, urgent fingers. Tossing her head to the side, she played with the aroused, erect point of her nipple while she turned her face into my pillow. She breathed deep, taking in my scent.
I thought I might explode. I stood there, unable to move, not believing what I was seeing, my cock as hard as a rock.
“Declan,” she exhaled, eyes closed, completely unaware that I stood there watching. Her fingers feverishly circled her clit and she moaned. She was getting close. So was I, standing there watching my deepest fantasy coming to life right before my eyes.
It couldn’t be happening. That was the bed I touched myself on, the bed I’d spent long nights with my hard dick in my hand wanting her. I couldn’t be watching her pleasuring herself on that same bed, my bed. Kara, the untouchable, innocent farm girl, the one I’d want but never have, playing with her own tits and gliding her fingers in and out of her slick, needy pussy while she fantasized about me. Holy shit.
She writhed on my bed, arching her back up. Her fingers worked in and out of her slit, fast, urgent, rubbing her slippery clit like she’d die if she didn’t come. Then she jammed her fingers up inside of her, deep. And she called out my name. “Declan!” Her body jerked and shuddered, her fingers way up inside of her, milking herself as she sighed and shivered, coming down from what looked like a spectacular orgasm.
“Kara.” I stepped into the room.
Flushed, breathless, she looked up at me. Then she panicked. She jackknifed up, pulling her shirt down and starting to button her jeans.
“What are you doing here?” she choked out.
“I live here.” I strode over to her on the bed.
“I didn’t think you were back. I just came in to—”
I was on top of her before she could say anymore, nervous excuses tumbling out of her gorgeous mouth. I grabbed her wrists and stretched them out above her head, trapping her hot little body beneath mine. She gasped under my assault.
Taking my time now, I wrapped her fingers through my own, twining myself around her.
“If I smell these fingers,” I asked her, low and secret, just between us, “will I smell that sweet pussy of yours?”
She gasped and twisted beneath me, caught.
I breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, the strawberry mixed with musky need. “I can smell you right now.” My head down, along her neck, under her chin, I scented her like an animal savoring its prey. Sweet, hot, juicy.
“I know what you’ve been doing, Kara. I watched you. I heard you call out my name.”
“No,” she protested, struggling beneath me. Her breath came hard, her eyes half-closed with desire. The war within her raged.
“You know what happens when you play with fire, Princess. You get burned.” Still pinning her wrists with one hand, I trailed my fingers down her side, searing a path along her curves, stopping at her waist. I parted her legs with my large, powerful thigh and pressed the full, steel length of my cock down against her sex. She bucked underneath me, half trying to escape but also wanting more. A throaty groan escaped from her parted lips. Right after an orgasm, she still had to be so swollen and sensitive.
“Worst thing is,” I continued, rocking my hardness against her, knowing she’d be wet and slick for me. “I’m going to make you love it.”
“Oh!” she cried out, tossing her head to the side, nearly wild with it already.
“Declan. I need you,” Harlan called from outside.
I need you. Got that right. Panting, we looked at each other. I cursed and rolled off of her. I ran a hand through my hair, pulled my shirt down and headed out to be of service.
Of course when I got back she was gone.
Now
5 a.m. I’d spent the night tossing and turning on my looked-good but hard-as-a rock black leather couch. Kara was sleeping soundly, alone in my sumptuous king size bed.
She’d been a virgin. A fucking virgin, like in medieval tales of chastity. Were there even 24-year-old virgins in the world anymore? Apparently I’d found the one and only. Like a unicorn.
Crazy thing was, last night had felt like my first time, too. That sounded like bullshit, but taking a woman had never felt like that before. My mind had this funny way of keeping going all the time, at night, while I worked, even during sex. I always had 10,000 thin
gs milling around up in there. But not with Kara. With her, all I did was feel. I’d been 100% locked-in on her and her alone, completely mesmerized by the heat of her, the sounds she made, the way she fit me so tight and perfect.
She hadn’t told me she was a virgin. She should have told me. But would it have made a difference? A beast like me? The animal in me liked that I’d been her first. No one else, I’d taken her. It satisfied something deep and primal inside of me, to claim her and mark her as my own. I never wanted her with anyone else. Now she was mine.
Only she wasn’t, not really, just for the week. And this wasn’t a medieval tale of a knight and his lady. I was just the guy with a large bank account, large enough to lure the one that got away into playing out every dark fantasy on my list. I had a long list.
I tossed on the hard leather, that sofa not giving an inch. I’d never been a big sleeper, the kind of guy who got his regular eight or nine hours every night. But I’d learned over time how to force sleep to come to me. Body-breaking physical exertion worked pretty well, first as a ranch hand and then, after I’d gone from hired help to bossman, I’d taken up working out. The adrenaline, the full-body discipline, the soaked with sweat exhaustion I felt after an intense workout, that usually got me down for the night. And if that didn’t do it, some raw, nasty sex did the trick. Sometimes it took both.
Yesterday, I’d done both. The sex had been through the roof. With Kara Brooks. I wasn’t big on nostalgia. Honestly, I’d devoted way more time to erasing my past than dwelling on it. Who wanted to sit there crying into your soup about how your daddy had run off and your mom…well. It wasn’t right to badmouth the dead, now was it? The addictions that had hounded her her whole life had finally caught up to her a couple of years ago in an overdose. So, no, the past wasn’t something I liked to think about all that much.
But Kara Fucking Brooks. She’d been a difficult one to forget. And now she was back.
Sleep wasn’t going to happen. I finally gave up and headed to my home office. I glanced through the day’s news, watched a couple of market analysts’ podcasts, replied, filed and mostly deleted emails.