by Penny Wylder
Right now the ranch has three horses, a barn that desperately needs attention, and a house that has good bones but needs a lot of TLC if it’s ever going to attract guests. Trevor’s put a lot of thought into this project, and if we can pull off all the improvements, and hire the right staff, this ranch could become one of the hottest vacation destinations in Texas.
For the next few months I’ll be getting things ready. Taking care of some of the smaller repairs and clearing out areas for buildings so we can avoid the extra labor costs when the main building starts. I assumed that his sister was here to babysit me because Trevor didn’t trust me—and it’s certainly clear that Melena doesn’t trust me—but having met her, I know she’s not here for me. She didn’t even know that I would be here.
I’m glad for that. The look on her face when I turned around was more than satisfying. I want to see more of that look on her face.
And what’s more, I wasn’t lying one bit. The minute I saw her I knew it was true. I will get her to beg for my cock. I will drive her crazy until she lets me fuck her exactly like she deserves to be fucked. She’s only been here for five minutes, and the chemistry between us is undeniable. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that chemistry like that doesn’t come along very often, and when it does, it cannot be denied.
She’s sassy, that’s for sure, but if she’s anything like her brother, she’ll be mostly a city girl. I imagine she’ll just be my quiet audience of one as I do all the heavy lifting. But that’ll work, and sunburn be damned, if it gets her hot and bothered and begging for me, I won’t wear a shirt for the next three months. I’ll give her a real show.
The door of her car slams, and I watch her stop and take a breath. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s clearly still angry. I’m guessing that he told her why I’m here to stay and she didn’t take to the news very kindly.
She walks over to me—no, she stomps over to me—and damn if the swing of her hips isn’t one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.
“He told you the good news?” I ask, leaning against the verandah.
Melena’s cheeks go pink. “That I’m stuck with you? Yeah, he told me.”
“Come on now,” I say, smiling at her. “Stuck with me is a little harsh. We’ll be spending quite a lot of time together here, just the two of us. How you want to spend that time together is up to you.”
Her eyes spark, and I can see her interest even if her expression is a scowl. “If you tell me that I might beg you one more time,” she says, “I’m going to tell my brother exactly what you said to me, his sister.”
“I didn’t say you might beg,” I say, stepping closer. “I said I know that you will. Your brother can’t blame me for telling you things that are facts.”
Her mouth drops open, and she sputters, shocked. I like that look on her face. She’s adorable when she taken off guard, when she’s challenged. I resist the urge to kiss her right there. I fired the first shot. The ball’s in her court now. I won’t cross a line. I won’t take what’s not mine, and she’s not mine.
Yet.
“So,” I say, “now that we’ve cleared up how you’re going to ask for my cock, can I help you bring your bags into the house?”
Melena narrows her eyes. “I will be doing no such thing, and no, you may absolutely not help me. I don’t want you touching anything that’s mine. I can handle my things just fine on my own.”
I smirk, unable to help myself. “We’ll see about that.” But if she doesn’t want my help, that’s absolutely fine. I’ll enjoy the view. Leaning back against the railing, I watch as she starts to get her luggage out of the car. And the amount of luggage she has…did she think she was coming to a resort that was already built? The bags she has are huge and unwieldy, and her shirt rides up as she heaves them out of the trunk, giving me a glimpse of her smooth stomach.
It’s actually impressive, given the weight of each of those bags. She’s stronger than I first thought, and that only turns me on more. There are few things sexier than a strong woman who can hold her own. Images flood my mind of us together, things getting rough. Me starting it and her giving it right back. The visions make me have to adjust my pants again.
I watch Melena haul one giant suitcase from her car over to the verandah and up the stairs. She’s clearly struggling, but I don’t move from my spot. I won’t cross a boundary that she set, even if I see that she’s regretting it. Melena is very clearly not looking in my direction. Which means that she’s aware of my eyes on her, and the fact that I’m watching the way her ass fits in her jean shorts and the way it’s straining as she lifts the massive suitcase.
When I met Trevor, I never would have guessed that his sister would look like this. Trevor is a passably attractive man, but very clearly someone who’s spent his life in an office and pursing things that would be considered ‘nerdy.’
Melena looks like she walked out of one of the best pornos ever made. I wait as she disappears inside and give her time. She’s probably hauling that giant suitcase upstairs and figuring out which room she can occupy. The only one that’s even available is the one right next to mine.
The thought of her only being a wall away from me once again makes my dick jump. Down boy. We need to take our time with this one. But soon enough there won’t be any walls between us. That’s for sure. I know it in my bones the same way I can sense the weather all the way out here. Once you’ve lived in the country for long enough, your instincts sharpen.
Melena is mine, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
She comes out of the house again, flushed from her exertion, and she doesn’t even glance my way before she’s hauling another large bag out of the trunk and heading to the stairs once again.
This time, though, I see the disaster a second before it happens. She’s lugging the suitcase up the verandah stairs, and her foot isn’t where it should be. She’s yanked off balance when the zipper of the suitcase catches on her shorts, and it manages to yank her backwards.
In a split second I know she’s going to fall. It’s only a couple of steps, but from the way she’s holding that bag, the fall will be nasty. Before I can even register that I’m moving, I take a few long strides so that she lands on my body with a thud that forces the air from my chest. But fuck her body feels good when I catch my breath. All softness and curves. I hear her gasp, as she realize where she is and how she’s landed—face down across my chest where her tits are pressed against me. The pink in her cheeks makes me smile, as does her face when she realizes that her hips are lined up with mine and that I’m completely hard.
She tries to scramble away from me, but I don’t let her. “Slow down, sweetheart. That was a hard fall. Take a second and make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine.” She pushes off my chest and I help her upright, and my hand lands on bare skin. We both freeze, and our eyes go to her hip, where her jean shorts have ripped in a way that’s nearly obscene and totally enticing, and if I wasn’t hard before, I am now. The side of her shorts spilt, almost all the way up to the waist, and I see a flash of hot pink silk from her panties. My hands are inches from the promised land, and I swear that I can almost feel the heat that she’s radiating.
We hang in the moment together, both staring at where my fingers are splayed on her skin. Melena’s breath has gone shallow, and she doesn’t move. What would happen if I pulled her in for a kiss right now? Would she resist me?
But I don’t do that. I told her that I would wait for her to beg, and I’ll keep that promise. And I don’t think I’ll have to wait very long. “Now will you let me help you with your bags?”
It snaps her back to reality and it suddenly dawns on her face how close we are to each other, how intimate this position is. “No.” She shoves herself away—successfully this time, and grabs her suitcase again and hauls it up the stairs. From my place on the ground, I get an absolutely glorious view of her ass, so I’m not complaining.
Melena holds her head high
as she disappears into the house, and I can’t help but smile. Nothing about this has made me want her less. I’ve always loved a challenge. If anything, I only want her more.
This city girl is going to on her knees and screaming my name by the end of the summer. I guarantee it.
3
Melena
This is not the welcome that I envisioned. The house is rickety. It’s clear that it was beautiful at some point in time, but now it’s just a ghost of its former self. Paint peels from the beautiful molding on the ceiling, and the original light fixtures and chandeliers are draped with cobwebs. I find the room that’s obviously mine. There are only two rooms with furniture on the second floor, and judging by the open suitcase on the bed in the first room, mine must be the one next door. It’s sparsely furnished with just a bed and a dresser. The mattress is surprisingly comfortable, and the bed is made up with fresh sheets. Did Harlan arrange that? There’s a large picture window on one end of the room, and the view makes up for whatever’s missing in the décor department. Miles and miles of open land. It’s actually breathtaking.
As I unpack my bags I try not to think about the fact that the walls in this house are treacherously thin, or the fact that the room next to mine is quite obviously Harlan’s. Or the fact that our beds are pushed up against opposite sides of the same wall. I’ll have to fix that at some point. Something about knowing he’s just on the other side of that wall, well, I don’t think I’ll have an easy time getting to sleep at night.
For the thousandth time since I drove up the road, I’m wondering what the hell Trevor is doing with this project. Is this really his dream? If it is, I’ll help him with it, but the turn-around is dizzying. I love that my brother has confidence in me to get this project started, but irritation buzzes under my skin. He wasn’t exactly helpful on the phone.
When I told him that there was a rude squatter on his ranch, all he did was laugh. He told me that under no circumstances was Harlan a squatter. He was Trevor’s right-hand man, his partner in fact, and we’d be working together to get things started on this project.
I had no idea that Trevor wouldn’t be here until the end of the summer. Something he conveniently left out when he convinced me to come down here. The irritation turns to rage as I put my suitcases against the wall and dig through them for any clothes that aren’t caked in dust. How is there dust everywhere? I also need to find another pair of pants, because no matter how much I love these pink lace panties, I do not want to encourage Harlan. Not at all.
What the hell is wrong with my brother? Why would he think that I’d want to come down here and spend three months with a stranger? I came for family. Not for this.
And it doesn’t matter that Harlan seems to make my body do things that it’s absolutely not allowed to do. I can still feel his hand on my skin like he branded me. Every detail. I can feel each individual fingertip that rested on my hip. I can still feel his hard chest pressed against my breasts, and damn it all to hell, my nipples are responding, perking up as if he were still laying underneath me. The way his body felt under mine, I want more. I want to press up against him so I can feel his ridges and edges and the obvious arousal pulsing in his jeans.
I’ve never wanted that with anyone before him.
But it can’t happen.
Because I’m going to follow my plan.
Love first, then marriage, then sex. That’s what my parents did, and they’re the happiest couple that I’ve ever seen. And for my entire life, we’ve been taught that that’s the way to do it. The proof is in the pudding. Our family is solid. Trevor and me, our younger brother and my parents. We’re close. No matter what happens in this crazy and unpredictable world, we can always count on each other.
That’s why I’m here. For Trevor. I had plans to spend my summer finally writing my book, but if it’s important to my family than it’s important to me.
Besides, it’s good to do something different. Drift out of my comfort zone. At least that’s what I tell myself. About a month ago I left a job I hated with no backup plan. It had been awful. I worked long hours every day. I worked hard; with integrity and dedication. But I rarely received any recognition and my salary just barely covered my expenses. It was clear I wasn’t appreciated in that office, but worse than that, I was constantly berated by my boss. No matter what I did he found fault. Eventually his insults went from professional to personal. When my family realized just how miserable I was, they were the ones that encouraged me to quit and take the summer off to follow my dream. They even offered to help me financially as I looked for something better while I wrote and worked on getting published.
It was a relief when I put in my notice. I hadn’t had that kind of quiet in my head in years.
And frankly, I wasn’t really ready to admit how much being in that kind of environment had messed with me. On the surface I was all smiles, but I had been having panic attacks on the job. My self-esteem had taken a hit, and everything seemed rather bleak. The only think that helped me at all, was writing. So when my family was supportive of me taking time off to do that, it felt like a blessing.
Pausing, I take a deep breath. I feel all mixed up inside. This is good. Deep down I know that splitting away from my life before and going in the opposite direction is good for me and for my writing. Life experience is always a good thing. But I thought that I would have some of my family here with me—a connection to home. Now I feel like I’m spinning. I feel a little untethered and unsure.
But none of that matters. I sweep those thoughts from my head and focus on what’s in front of me. I’m here now and I’m going to make it work. I have plenty of self-control, and no one is going to take that from me. In the meantime, I’m hot, dirty, and sweaty, and there is nothing that I want more than to just take a nice shower. A cold shower, and not just because of the hot Texas sun. Harlan!
I spend a few minutes organizing my things and grabbing the towels that I brought from home along with my shampoo. But when I wander down the hallway looking for the bathroom, I find it half gutted. There’s a toilet and sink, but where the tub and shower used to be are just bare pipes sticking out from the wall and bits of plaster from what I assume was the old tub.
What the fuck?
Trevor promised me that there was electricity, plumbing, and satellite internet. Maybe there’s a shower in the bathroom downstairs? I walk down the creaky stairs and poke my head through different doors, hoping to find a full, functioning bathroom. But the only bathroom down here is a powder closet, with a small sink and toilet. Crap. I’m going to have to find Harlan and figure this out. There has to be a shower somewhere on this property.
I sigh. There was a small part of me that was hoping that I could just ignore him for the rest of the day. There goes that plan.
When I step outside, he’s still working on those steps. Good thing since I really don’t want either of us to have another accident. He’s still gorgeous, still shining with sweat. Only now I know what it feels like to touch him and that’s a dangerous, dangerous thing.
He doesn’t look up until I’m a few feet from him, and he immediately notices the towels and shampoo I’m holding. “This house is pretty big, but it seems to be missing something. A shower.”
The smirk on his face is just as dangerous as his body. Dropping the hammer on the ground, he stands. “Right this way.”
But my stomach drops when he doesn’t lead me back up the stairs and into the house. So there’s not a secret shower closet that I missed. No, he leads me to the side of the house closest to us, where there’s a three sided shed and a curtain hanging in front of it. It looks like the kind of shower most people use to rinse off from the beach before they go inside and use the real shower.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“As a snake bite.”
I shake my head, unable to wrap my brain around it. “There’s no shower inside?”
Harlan chuckles. “Not right now. Eventually, yes. But this is what we have.”
He leaves me standing there gaping at the little space. It’s tiny, and looks like it’s barely standing. There are some hooks to hang your towel, but the little walls don’t even reach the ground. There’s a concrete drain in the ground. I wonder where it goes?
I step inside and look around. At least it looks clean, although I try not to inspect it too closely. There’s nothing to fasten the curtain to either of the walls to keep it closed—something I’m very, very aware of as I get undressed. I toss my clothes and my towel over the top of one of the walls. Harlan is working so close, one breeze could open this curtain and show him everything.
Would he look?
New heat blooms in my stomach and between my legs at the thought of him seeing me like this. I shouldn’t want that. I definitely shouldn’t care at all. But I can’t stop imagining it.
It seems like a miracle, but there’s hot water that comes out of the pipes. With how hot the air is, it seems almost like a crime to take a hot shower, but it feels good to get clean. I move quickly, trying to get through it as quickly as possible. From time to time a breeze picks up and I grab at the plastic curtain, trying my best not to draw attention to myself, but also hoping I catch his eye. I’m too aware of how close Harlan is for my own good, and I don’t like the direction my mind is going in.
If feels amazing to wash my hair, and despite the wonderful feeling of my body relaxing under the spray of water, I wrap up my shower quickly, hoping to exorcise these dirty thoughts about Harlan. I reach up for my towel and start drying off, but then I realize that I didn’t bring any clean clothes with me. Only the ones that I was wearing. There’s no way I’m putting back on those filthy, sweaty clothes. All I have is the towel. Which means that I’ll have to walk past Harlan. In a towel. Oh my God. The universe is really trying to test my self-control today, that’s for sure. Thankfully I like my towels large, and the thing wraps all the way around my body.
