by Grace Risata
I think I’ll try to put that strategy into action, although judging by the bulge firmly wedged against my leg, he was already pretty stiff.
Would it be wrong if I just slipped my hand a little lower and began massaging his morning wood?
KNOCK KNOCK
“We’re awake. You can come in,” Samuel stated loudly to whoever was on the other side of the door. I couldn’t help but notice that he made no attempt to pry himself off me. Interesting.
“Sorry to bother you,” Katherine admitted sheepishly, “But your father would like to know if you plan to sleep all day or if you might decide to haul your lazy self out of bed and start dealing with the fallen tree. His words, not mine.”
I could feel Samuel tense up with stress before he quickly got out of bed and began to throw clothes on.
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Thank you, Sam. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
I guess that ruled out any morning ‘hide and seek’ with sexy body parts. This place royally sucked. Either Samuel’s parents were treating him like a slave or cock-blocking me at every turn. The disappointment must have been written all over my face.
“I’m sorry, Leandra, but this is going to take all day. I have no idea what you’re going to do for entertainment around here,” the apologetic man explained while pulling a t-shirt over his head. “I didn’t think things through at all, and the responsibility for this clusterfuck rests entirely on my shoulders.”
“Have we met? I have a knack for making lemonade out of lemons. All I need is a nice long shower and a new shirt. I’m down to my last fresh pair of panties and clean bra. No matter what happens today, I need to go on a supply run. If we can do that, I’m golden.”
Samuel flinched and shook his head as though I just asked him to carry me back to New York City while hopping on one foot.
“The shower will have to be short. Their hot water heater gives you just enough time for a quick four minute scrub and then you’ll be freezing your ass off.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter because I have no shampoo, conditioner, mousse, or hair spray. I’m roughing it. Whatever doesn’t kill me makes me stronger, right?”
Look at me and my ‘never say die’ attitude! Such a team player. That must have been the right thing to say, because Samuel actually gave me half a smile and picked out a t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.
“This doesn’t fit me anymore, but it will still be way too large for you. Do the best you can and meet me in the kitchen in a couple minutes.”
Deciding I didn’t care to take a chance with an ice shower, I opted for a quick sponge bath. Let me tell you, it’s no way to start the day. At home I have a spa-like bathroom with an enormous jetted tub and massive collection of soaps, bubble baths, and every scented candle you can imagine. But here…I had to resort to grabbing a wash cloth, using the antibacterial hand soap, and doing a lightning fast scrub down of the important parts. Thank God I had the foresight to pack my deodorant. My next bug-out-bag will be radically different from this one. More panties, less weapons of destruction.
Once I was as clean as I could get, there was one last matter of wardrobe. Yes, I had exquisite red silk panties, matching crimson lace bra, and my favorite pair of tight black leggings, but the top was holding me up. What to do?
If this basic white short-sleeved t-shirt doesn’t fit him anymore, that means he doesn’t want it, ergo I can modify it to suit myself, right?
Pulling out a pair of scissors from a drawer in the bathroom vanity, I channeled my inner fashion designer and sexed up the situation. Tying a front knot to showcase my diamond belly button ring did wonders to transform the shirt into something feminine. But that’s just not good enough. For dramatic effect, I cut some horizontal slits across my cleavage. Voila! Now you can see my bosom, I have extra air flow going on to avoid boob sweat, and it looks like a million bucks.
Since my bathroom time went faster than originally planned, I went back to the bedroom and snapped a few selfies with my burner phone. True, I wasn’t able to actually send them to anyone or post them online, but that didn’t stop me one damn bit. The goal was to remember what I did in case I wanted to develop a fashion line when I got home. When a person has the kind of money that I do, in addition to my vast network of connections in one of the fashion capitals of the world, you can do whatever the hell you want.
I skipped down the stairs to find Samuel and his family already eating. All eyes turned on me and they seemed quite impressed with my outfit.
My bodyguard began to choke, his sister gasped, and the parents just gawked as though they’d never seen a pair of tits before. I was honestly not surprised over Chrissie’s gasp of shock. That seemed to be her reaction to everything, no matter what went on around here. Maybe she has asthma?
“That attire is not appropriate in any way, shape, or form,” Douglas chastised, as though I were his pre-teen daughter instead of a grown ass woman. Under normal circumstances, I would have either flipped him off or had one of my minions escort him to a location far, far away from my presence. However, this house was fucking tiny and he was my fake father-in-law so I had to remain calm.
“All of the primary erogenous zones are covered, Douglas,” I firmly but politely stated, looking him directly in the eye with no sign of backing down. “Your son decided to take this road trip back to Kansas on the spur of the moment and didn’t give me time to pack a more appropriate wardrobe. Perhaps next time I’ll remember to bring my full length gown and a suitcase filled with turtlenecks. Until then, you’ll have to take what you can get.”
I smiled politely, plopped down in the chair next to Chrissie, and began to pile eggs and toast on my plate. At least the food seemed to be getting better around here even though the general attitude stank.
“You need to learn some manners,” Douglas countered in a threatening voice that was meant to intimidate me. Pfft. Amateur.
“You need to judge people based on how they treat you and not on their appearance,” I replied in a sing-song voice while stabbing a few pieces of bacon with my fork. “Looks can be deceiving.”
“Know your place, woman,” he spat in disgust, causing me to pause and carefully consider a plan of action.
Option number one…launch myself across this kitchen table and stab him in the neck with my fork. Nope. That would be impolite and might splatter blood on my food.
Option number two…march right back upstairs, pack my shit, and walk out. Nope. Samuel might not come with me and I wasn’t ready to leave all this fun quite yet.
Option number three…ignore his comment and pretend like I never heard it at all. Nope. That would set a bad example for Chrissie.
While I contemplated my next move, although I must admit I leaned heavily towards option number one, my bodyguard decided to actually do his fucking job.
“If one more word comes out of your mouth that I find offensive to my wife, I will not hesitate to walk away and let you deal with everything yourself,” Samuel warned. “Last time I checked, we did not treat people in such a rude and disrespectful manner. Should she be dressed like that? Probably not. However, that gives you no right to act like the judge, jury, and executioner.”
Wow. Color me impressed. Maybe Samuel really was a good fake husband. Any man in my life damn well better have my back at all times.
Douglas simply glared at his son with a look that could kill. Then he shoved his wheelchair away from the table and left the room entirely.
And that is how you ruin breakfast, ladies and gentlemen.
“That was uncalled for, Sam,” Katherine quietly muttered under her breath, refusing to make eye contact with her son. “He doesn’t want to be forced to rely on you for help. No man wants his child to take care of him financially. He used to be the breadwinner before everything took a turn for the worse. You have to put yourself in his position. Literally, every single thing in his life changed in one second. Don’t be so hard on him.”
She abruptly got up and went into the kitchen in an effort to get away from all the tension in the room.
Well, I could pout like a baby over the unfortunate start to my morning, or I could move on with my life. Since I was starving, I decided to make the most of breakfast while the food was still warm.
Taking a massive bite of scrambled eggs, I realized I was too late. They were ice fucking cold.
With a heavy sigh of disappointment, I piled five pieces of bacon on some toast and made a sandwich. Was there something missing from the table? Ah, yes. I looked around in a futile attempt to hook myself up with a steaming hot cup of coffee, to no avail. Sitting next to my plate was a nice fresh glass of Kansas tap water.
“No coffee, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at Samuel.
“Caffeine is bad for you,” Chrissie explained in a matter-of-fact way as though we were talking about cocaine or jumping out of a plane with no parachute.
Of course it is. No suggestive clothing, no back-talking the patriarch of the family, and no coffee.
“What about dancing? Are we allowed to do that? Is Kevin Bacon going to bust into the room and save us from the blatant small-mindedness around here?” I asked in amusement. Then a thought occurred to me. Maybe I am the Kevin Bacon. I’ve never been a warrior for justice before. Usually I’m on the other side of the law. Hmm. Interesting.
Before anyone could congratulate me on my awesome movie reference, Samuel inhaled the rest of the food on his plate and stood up.
“I’m going to get started on the fallen tree. The farmhands should be arriving shortly if they’re not already here by now, and I don’t want them falling over themselves once they see you, Leandra. Just…try and stay out of trouble, okay?” Samuel pleaded with an expression that implied he doubted I would listen. I think part of him knew any lecture would fall on deaf ears, so he made a beeline for the front door and delicious freedom.
Meanwhile, I finished my bacon sandwich and turned to the young woman that hadn’t stopped staring at me since I walked downstairs in my revealing outfit.
“I can tell you’re holding back, love. Let it out. What’s running through that curly head of yours?”
“I might be in awe of you just a little bit,” she confessed. “I’ve never met anyone so bold and daring. It’s like you have no filter and just do whatever you want. I wish I was more like that.”
“You have no idea, kid,” I admitted, feeling the strong urge to corrupt her with a taste of the forbidden. “Let’s go help your brother with the tree. I also need a tour of the farm. We have a lot of ground to cover today. I’m ready to get my hands dirty.”
Her eyes lit up at the opportunity to hang out with me, and I really couldn’t blame her. Fun and excitement were in short supply around here.
“Sam is probably on the way to the barn to get a chainsaw. I can take you there first. We’ll pass my garden where I grow vegetables to sell at the farmer’s market every weekend, and then you can see my chickens, and then---”
She talked nonstop from the time we left the table until we finally made it to the barn. I can honestly say I was quite impressed with the farm after a brief look around. Chrissie’s garden was huge and the chicken coop seemed to be a decent size as well. Most noteworthy was the sight of Samuel fucking around with the chain saw right outside the barn entrance. He was all rippling biceps, tight ass, and simmering rage. If that wasn’t my favorite combination, I didn’t know what was.
“Is everything okay?” Chrissie asked with concern as Samuel’s face grew redder and redder.
“The damn thing won’t start,” he muttered, checking to make sure it was filled with gas.
“You might want to look at the spark plug to make sure it’s not fouled,” a stranger’s voice suggested, immediately causing me to turn on my heels and investigate.
Sure enough, a group of three very healthy and quite muscular Midwestern farmhands were staring at us with great interest. How did I know they were Kansas locals? The ‘John Deere’ t-shirts, innocent faces, and classic blonde good looks were a dead giveaway. Had this been New York City, there would have been more racial diversity and a ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude. Although one of them did leer at me with a bit of an ‘I’m sexy and I know it, so you better worship me’ kind of vibe. Bitch, please. On a scale of one to ten, you’re a Kansas six, which translates to a New York three. I, however, am a nine out of ten no matter what state we’re in.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Todd?” my bodyguard growled, narrowing his eyes and casting aside the chainsaw as though he were about to throw down in a battle royale. I’ve actually seen this side of Samuel several times. The way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, vein bulging in his neck, teeth gritted in annoyance. Todd must be a total prick because it took a lot to get Samuel this worked up. He meant business.
I casually slid my hand to the switchblade in my back pocket to make sure it was easily accessible. By my count it was three against three. Yes, there were two women on my side, but I was one of them, so that put us at almost even odds. I wonder if Chrissie was reliable in a fight?
I spared a glance out of the corner of my eye, and immediately got the answer to that question.
Fuck no.
The girl was staring all moon-eyed at one of the other guys that hadn’t spoken. Her obvious crush appeared to be near the same age as Chrissie, and completely ignored the poor thing.
As expected, all eyes were on me.
“Hello to you too, Sam,” Todd replied, finally finding his words. “I could ask you the same question. What the hell are you doing here? After abandoning the family, you just show up one day as if you never left? And who is this gorgeous lady wasting her time with the likes of your sorry ass?”
The jackass actually had the nerve to give me a wink. Really, Todd?
“Hello there,” I purred suggestively, while sticking out my chest and enjoying their shocked response. “Your eye is twitching, Todd. Do you have something stuck in there? An eyelash perhaps?”
“No, sweetheart,” he replied, not missing a beat. “My body must be reacting strangely after seeing such a beautiful creature. What’s your name, precious? It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
He offered a hand in greeting, but before it even got to the halfway point, Samuel twisted it behind Todd’s back and had him on his knees in surrender. I knew that move well. He used it all the fucking time.
Before any of the other farmhands had a chance to come to Todd’s defense, my switchblade was out and ready.
“Who’s next?” I asked, not wanting to sit on the sidelines.
“What the fuck?” Todd sputtered. “Who are you? I didn’t think I could get any more turned on, but clearly I was wrong.”
That caused Samuel to tighten his hold on the fool’s arm, nearly snapping it completely.
“She’s my wife, asshole,” my bodyguard announced with more than a hint of pride and bravado. “You’d do best to remember that or suffer the consequences.”
Wow. ‘Suffer the consequences?’ Really? I forced a casual smile on my face while desperately holding back the laughter. Evidently the same outfit that was too risqué for the breakfast table was absolutely fine when Samuel was trying to one-up Todd by showing off his ‘hot wife.’ Hilarious double standard, but I can appreciate boasting as well as the next person. Why not? If you’ve got it, flaunt it.
“Are you kidding me?” Todd asked. “You run off, tell no one where you’re going, and just show up married? What the hell?”
“Okay, gentlemen,” I declared, growing tired of their pissing match. “We have a massive tree to cut up and haul to a wood pile somewhere. Let’s make some introductions, start up the fucking chain saw, and get to work. We’re burning daylight here.”
Every job needed a foreman, or boss if you will, and that title usually fell to me nine times out of ten. I’m a natural leader, what can I say?
“I respect a woman who knows how to take charge,” Todd insisted bol
dly, shrugging out of Samuel’s grasp and rising to his feet. He was wise enough not to make a move to shake my hand. “I’m Sam’s cousin and I also manage everything around here. With over four thousand acres of farmland, someone needs to make sure the crops are cared for.”
“Who decided that should be your job?” Samuel growled, growing increasingly agitated.
“Look around,” Todd shouted, trying to stand at his full height and yet still not looming as large as my bodyguard. “Your old man is stuck in a wheelchair. He had no choice but to rent out the land instead of farming it himself since his deadbeat son took off for greener pastures. What the fuck did you think he’d—”
Todd did not get a chance to finish his sentence.
Samuel lunged at him and began to pummel the arrogant man, inflicting some collateral damage before the other two flunkies could team up and pull him away. I knew from past experience that my fighter was undoubtedly capable of taking on all three of them and winning, but I think he lost his momentum the second Chrissie began to scream.
Either she’d never seen him in ‘beast mode’ or she was opposed to violence. I sure hoped it was the former, because I wasn’t much of a pacifist.
“Hey, sometimes men settle disagreements with their hands instead of their words,” I explained in an effort to soothe her. “It’s fine, okay? Relax.”
The two brawlers dusted themselves off and began a vicious staring contest. Ooh, so dangerous. If we were back home, guns would have already been drawn and bullets fired. This was so tame compared to what I dealt with on a daily basis.
“Todd, either go tend to your plants or help us with the tree,” I ordered, hands on my hips. “I’m ready for action.”
“What kind of action did you have in mind?” the man taunted while licking his lips and giving me a complete eye-fuck from head to toe. As could be predicted, Chrissie gasped and Samuel took a step forward to put Todd in his place. Not wanting this to be an endless loop of talking, fighting, talking, fighting, and gasping, I took matters into my own hands.
Time to end this once and for all, in typical Leandra style.
