by Rexi Lake
She let go of his hand and moved deeper into the big room they’d entered. It was bright and open with a large, comfortable-looking couch. The kind of couch that a person, or two, could easily fall asleep on while watching the big screen television that hung on the far wall.
Beyond the living room was a small dining room. She could see that he used it to work on things. A laptop sat open on the table and there were papers and pens lying around. The kitchen connected to it by a large, open archway. It was much smaller than the one his mother had, but she could see that it was furnished with all the appliances he could need.
A sliding door at the back of the kitchen led out to a deck that overlooked the orchards. Trees spread out as far as she could see, with only a few buildings dotting the area on the outskirts. She opened the door and stepped out.
“Wow,” she murmured. She seemed to be doing that a lot with him. But he was full of surprises. Even now, she’d expected they would go somewhere that would allow them enough privacy to get a little frisky. But instead, he’d brought her into his home and he’d not done so just to get her in his bed.
“We started as a small family farm. Just an acre of apple trees and a love of eating apples.” Tucker said from behind her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against him. She leaned into him, loving the strength and gentleness that he showed her with something as simple as a hug. “Then some neighbors asked for apples. Then a few more. My great-grandfather had to plant another two acres to keep up with the rising demand for apples in the county.”
She smiled, listening to him talk about his family history was strangely comforting. And a little envy-inducing, she could admit. He had a history with strong roots. A family that loved and lived normally, even with the money she knew they had to have given the size of their business. It was, she thought for a moment, nice. Yes, it was nice.
IT WAS FIVE DAYS SINCE she’d spent her evening on the Hart Farm. After listening to Tucker talk about his family and seeing and listening to his parents too, she’d decided to confront her father. Her month wasn’t up yet, she was still a few days away from that, but she was done sitting and waiting on him.
She’d attempted to tell Megan that she’d changed and she needed to discuss something with her father, but that hadn’t worked. Megan had hung up on her and she was left waiting again. She’d worked her shifts at the Bad Apple with a lot more ease than before. Her decision to change her viewpoint of life had been eye opening to say the least. Now she just needed to show her father that it was the case.
Taking a deep breath, she approached the large house that she’d grown up in. It was eight in the evening, and on a Wednesday, so she was fairly sure her father was home. But that would only help her if she didn’t get tossed back out of the house. Ringing the bell was both the hardest and scariest thing she could remember doing.
“Miss Olivia!” The housekeeper, Charlotte, opened the door and stepped back. “Why on earth are you ringing the bell?” she asked.
“I wasn’t sure if I could walk in,” Olivia answered with a wry smile.
“Oh, I don’t hold with what your father did to you,” Charlotte told her. “He’s in his study, of course. Would you like a drink?”
“No, thank you, Charlotte,” Olivia answered. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here.”
“Well, if you change your mind, just come down to the kitchen. I can always whip something up for you if you get hungry.”
Olivia smiled and nodded. She’d always thought Charlotte was sweeter than the other housekeepers they’d had. She was certainly sweeter than the tutor Olivia had been in the care of. Approaching her father’s study, she wasn’t surprised to find the doors closed. Even when he was the only person in the house, he still kept the study doors closed.
She knocked and waited. After a moment, she heard him answer. She pushed open the door and strode inside.
“Olivia, what are you doing here?” Elias asked, looking up from his papers.
“I have been trying to speak to you for the past week and Megan continues to hang up on me,” she told him. She walked forward and sat in one of the two wingback chairs that were positioned before the stately desk.
“Your month is not up yet,” he reminded her. He sat back in the chair and regarded her with a level of scrutiny that reminded her of the years she’d been relegated to displaying what she’d learned in her classes each week.
“No, but it doesn’t need to be. I would like access to the apartment at the Plaza,” she started.
“No.” He spoke before she finished.
“-to gather my things and remove them,” she finished.
That made him sit up and look closer at her. “You want to leave the Plaza?” he asked cautiously.
She nodded. “I don’t need to live there when I’m working in Tribeca. I would rather be able to walk to work than attempt to taxi it back and forth.”
“You are working?” His brow furrowed.
“That’s what you dictated, isn’t it? That I be able to fend for myself? Earn my rent money?” she asked.
He nodded, a frown crossing his features. “I guess I didn’t expect that you would do it. I anticipated you would be sitting in that other apartment fuming at me.”
“Oh, I did plenty of that through the first week,” she acknowledged. “But then I had a change of -”
“Heart?”
She shook her head. “No, view. Outlook on life, I should say.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve been working at a quaint cafe over there and I’ve made a few friends. And there’s a fun little art gallery next to my building that I’ve enjoyed. It’s a refreshing change.”
“And you don’t miss the money? The parties? Your friends?” he asked.
“I won’t say I don’t miss it. But those people weren’t really my friends. The second you kicked me out, they all dropped me. Or at least they dropped me until I got my Plaza apartment and credit cards back.” She shrugged. That had been a bitter disappointment, and definitely contributed to her anger at the beginning of everything. Having no one to truly confide in about her feelings had left her lost and lonely on top of angry and bitter. Not a good combination.
“So what are you here for exactly?” Elias asked.
“I may not want the same type of life, but I would like to get some of the things I have. The stuff I don’t need anymore, like some of the clothes and such, I’ll sell or donate. The apartment I’m in now is still rather bare. While I’ve made enough to cover my rent, as you requested, there isn’t much extra for furnishing the place to make it comfortable and homey.”
“Homey?”
“Yes, father. I want my place to feel homey. And I’d like something to do when I’m not at work. You cut my phone off from the internet and I didn’t have my computer either. I was sitting at home some nights with nothing to do but stare at the walls.”
“Well, I must say that this is a bit of a surprise,” he told her. “I truly didn’t imagine that you could succeed.”
Olivia bit back the retort that built in her mind. If he’d bothered to educate her like he would have done if she’d been a boy, she would have had more than dresses and designers on her mind in the first place. But she didn’t say that. She simply smiled and waited.
“I’ll let the staff know that you’ll be working to collect your things from the Plaza,” he finally said.
“Thank you. I’ll need at least a week, possibly two. I’ll box the things up that I won’t be taking with me and direct that it be donated,” she promised. She planned to take a few things to sell, but there was no reason she couldn’t donate a good portion of the things that she never planned to wear again or hadn’t worn in the first place.
“Very well.” He contemplated her for a moment. “There is something that is definitely different about you,” he told her. “I’m not sure what it is exactly, but it is an improvement.”
She smiled. “It’s called ‘heart,’ father,�
�� she said. She grinned at the dual meaning in her words. She hadn’t meant it to be that, but it was true. Her heart was changed and Tucker Hart was a big reason for it.
“Will you be attending the annual Marsten Fundraising Gala in a few months?”
“Yes, I still plan to attend the fundraisers and charities for the Marsten family. Just because I’m stepping away from the party life doesn’t mean I’m stepping away from the family. I’ll be attending and please add to the guest list that I will have a plus one.”
She stood and smiled at her father’s surprised expression.
“Very well, I’ll let Megan know to add an additional guest.”
“Thank you. Have a good evening, father.” She turned and walked to the door, pleased with herself and feeling infinitely more relaxed than she had walking in.
“Have a good night, Olivia,” he returned before she closed the door behind her.
She smiled. It wasn’t the same type of farewell she’d seen Tucker receive, but at least it was something.
Chapter Seventeen
“You aren’t going to have room for all of your stuff in the Tribeca place,” Tucker said, letting out a low whistle at the piles of boxes that greeted him when Olivia opened the door of her Plaza apartment.
“Oh, I’m aware.” She grinned and stepped back so he could come into the crowded room. “Most of these aren’t going with me. I’ve decided to donate quite a bit of my wardrobe. There’s also some boxes going to the family business to be included with the fundraising raffles. Most are designer bags that I never used. I think I threw in some other items too. I can’t really remember them all.” She turned from him in order to go back to the box she’d been taping shut when he arrived.
Tucker propped his hands on his hips and considered the woman in front of him. She was a whole lot changed from the first biting remark she’d thrown his way. But the core of her, that feistiness that had attracted him in the first place, and her spirit were still there. “What if you didn’t move everything into the Tribeca place?” he asked.
She looked over at him and narrowed her eyes in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if you moved some of it into my home at the farm?”
She paused and turned to face him fully. “What about my job?” she asked cautiously.
“I think we could figure out a schedule between you working at the Bad Apple and staying up at the farm too. And on the days you can’t, I can probably arrange to drive down the night before the deliveries. I think we should try living together as best we can.” He walked towards her and pulled her into his arms. “Wouldn’t you like it if we could have our nights together every night?” he asked, winking at her as his hands rubbed down her back and cupped her ass.
She rolled her eyes at him. The blatant attempt to appeal to her baser desires was obvious, but not unwelcome. “You mean you would like it if we had our nights together,” she countered, her arms wrapping around his neck.
“Well, that should be pretty obvious, Red. You know I have a problem keeping my hands off you.” He pulled her hard against him so she could feel the stiff length of his cock.
“It’s not your hands I’m worried about,” she said. “You seem to have this problem with other parts of your anatomy too. And one of these days, we’re going to get caught.”
“So is that a yes?” he asked. His hands squeezed her ass and he lifted her onto her toes against him so he could brush a kiss across her lips. “Move in with me, Olivia,” he said. “Please.”
She smiled up at him. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asked in surprise. “Just like that?”
She nodded. “Just like that.”
“Hmmm, and here I was expecting you to make me work for it,” he told her, grinning.
“Well, if you want me to -”
“No,” he interrupted. “But I’ll be more than happy to give you a sneak peek at what being in my bed every night means,” he said. He lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs securely around his waist.
“Bedroom is down the hall. Last door on the right,” she said with a giggle.
He carried her down the hall to the room she’d indicated and tossed her on the bed. “Strip, baby.”
She drew the t-shirt she was wearing over her head and quickly wiggled out of the leggings she’d been wearing while packing.
Tucker watched her with a hungry gaze as he stripped to nothing too. He barely took in the rather girly room around him as he lowered himself onto the bed over top of her.
“Hard or soft, baby?” he asked roughly.
“Fuck me like you mean it, Tucker,” she said, wrapping her legs around his waist again.
“I always do,” he answered. He lowered his lips to hers and claimed her mouth hard as he drove his cock deep into her pussy without forewarning.
She screamed, but he drank in the sound and relished in the way her pussy gushed around him as he fucked her exactly the way she wanted. Hard and fast and with a fierceness that would leave her aching even after they were done - whenever that might be.
One hand kept him anchored above her. The other he brought up and used to fondle and squeeze her breast. He felt her pussy squeeze around his cock with a desperation that mimicked her soft moans and cries that he continued to muffle. He pinched her nipple hard and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Back and forth. Twisting, pulling, and teasing the little nub until it was hard and sensitive to every whisper of air across it.
He released her mouth and heard her gulp in air as she moaned and twisted beneath him. His hips continued to pump hard against hers. He could feel her reaching for the ledge and her orgasm, but instead of pushing her over it, he stopped. He eased his cock from her body and kissed a path down her throat as she groaned in disappointment.
“Tucker,” she begged, her hips tilting and squirming as she tried to pull him back into her body. “I thought you were going to fuck me,” she complained.
“I am,” he promised. “But fucking you doesn’t always mean you get to orgasm,” he taunted darkly.
Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a little ‘O’ of surprised dismay.
“Now, be a good girl, and spread these legs of yours. I want to taste you.”
She dropped her legs from his waist and he scooted her up the bed. He grabbed a pillow and pushed it beneath her hips to keep her tilted at just the right angle for what he wanted. Dipping his fingers to her pussy lips, he felt the wet heat of her need coat them. He dragged two fingers back and forth along the sensitive seam as he lowered his lips to just above her clit and licked at the smooth skin there. She dug her fingers into his hair and tried to shift his head down just that tiny bit further. But with his free hand, he gripped her thigh and held her still.
“Tucker,” she groaned.
He chuckled darkly. “Patience is not your strong suit, Red.”
“No, it’s not! Eat me or fuck me. I don’t care which, but get to it. Please!” she berated and begged him simultaneously.
“Sometimes, Red, the finest things just need a little waiting period to be fully enjoyed.” He stroked his fingers up and down at the same slow pace. His lips brushed over the spot where her clit hid between her lips.
“Name one thing,” she panted, straining to tilt her hips just a bit more.
“Like the cider we make. It takes hours of processing to make the gallons we deliver each week.”
“Hours?” she asked weakly.
“Mmmm,” he hummed an affirmation against her clit, making her body jump and the muscles in her thigh twitch.
“I can’t last hours,” she told him.
“Maybe not today,” he agreed. “But I’m looking forward to playing with you and teasing you each night until you can last as long as I want you to.” He slipped his tongue in between the soft folds and circled the tip around the tight bud of nerves.
“Oh, fuck,” she murmured.
“Not yet,” he told her. “Soon though.”
&nb
sp; She moaned and he heard her head fall back against the bed as she pulled at his hair. He set the tip of his finger just against the entrance of her pussy and licked languidly at her clit. He teased the little nub until he felt her thighs begin to tremble. Pushing his finger deep into her pussy, he sealed his lips around her clit and sucked gently. As he pumped his finger in and out of her with the same slow rhythm he’d established with his tongue and earlier strokes, he slowly increased the suction.
Her body shook beneath him as she trembled in need. He knew she was on the edge. The right touch would send her flying. But he was waiting to push his cock back in her for that. This wasn’t about just fucking her. This was about claiming her, marking her in a way that went deeper than a few bruises from rough sex.
He released her clit with a soft pop. Coming up over her body so he could see her face and those pretty, glassy, begging green eyes of hers. “This is only the beginning, baby,” he told her. “You and I are going to find the perfect balance that works for us.”
“Tuck, please. I can’t take anymore,” she begged. Her pussy clenched briefly around his finger, but she still couldn’t grab her orgasm. It remained just out of her reach.
“You can,” he assured her. “But I won’t make you hold out too much longer,” he promised.
He pulled his finger from her and moved back up to kiss her lips as his cock sought the dripping entrance to her body. “Come on my cock, baby,” he whispered against her lips. He pushed deep and felt a primal satisfaction as her body started to shake uncontrollably beneath his. He pounded into her harder and faster, chasing her orgasm and pushing her into another before he found his own release.
As their bodies cooled, he pulled her over to lay on top of him, his cock still buried inside her. He wrapped his arms tight around her. “You’re as delicious as my favorite beverage,” he told her.
“Isn’t that cider your favorite?” she asked, chuckling weakly as she lay sprawled on his chest.
“Yep. And you are just the same. Sweet and tart and refreshing. My very own sweet Red cider. Sinful and delicious.” He rubbed one hand up and down her back while the other played with her fiery red locks.
