by Penny Wylder
I pull back the curtain, and jump when I see how close he is—just a few feet away. “Were you spying on me?”
He grins. “As enjoyable as that would be, I’m sure that you would hand me my ass. You’re not the only one that needs a shower, you know.”
“Oh.” I feel myself blush. “Right, sorry.”
I grab my dirty clothes, and he brushes by me as I exit, so close that I can feel the heat off his skin. The water is on before I’m steps away, and when I turn back his jeans are slung over the wall just the way my clothes were. Oh God. I can see muscular legs below the walls, and the curtain sways in the breeze, giving me glimpses of skin. I see his muscular thigh, and leading up, up, up, my eyes steal a glance at the hard the curve of his gorgeous ass.
There’s no reason that I should be looking. I’m not interested. My body has a mind of its own, apparently, and even though I should go inside, I can’t seem to make myself move, my eyes drawn to the barely visible shape of his body through the curtain.
“Who’s the one spying now?” His voice calls out over the sound of the water.
Sheer embarrassment pours over me. Geeze. I can just go die now.
“If you want more time in the hot water with me, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart. I’ll make it a shower that you won’t forget.”
I clear my throat. “No. No thank you. I don’t want that.”
Liar, my brain says. Because as soon as the words are out of his mouth, I imagine what it would be like to have him reach out and pull me inside. Trap me under the stream of water with his arms and kiss the hell out of me. Maybe more. I know that I wouldn’t care about the splinters I’d get in my back or if the water went cold as long as his hands were on me. My body betrays me, and as I imagine these things I feel myself getting wet.
Who am I and what have I done with my brain? Never in my life have I had thoughts like this. I swear the Texas heat has driven me insane.
“Well, if I can’t give you a shower to remember,” he says, “then maybe I can give you a show, since you seem to want a better look.”
The curtain slides open, and there he is. Completely naked and wet, cock huge and hard, pointing directly at me. Oh, fuck. He’s even more gorgeous without the rest of his clothes. Harlan Decker is a god made of flesh, and my body recognizes that. Heat and desire and everything that I shouldn’t want flow through me.
I can’t look away from him. Hell, I don’t want to look away. He said he was giving me a show, and he is. A perfect, glorious show.
When I lift my gaze to his eyes, the heat and lust there make me take a step back. He wants me. But now it’s clear that I want him too. Neither of us can get around that fact now. I could have looked away or covered my eyes, but I didn’t. I soaked up looking at his cock like I was a woman dying of thirst and the view of his body was the only thing that could save me.
I still don’t want to look away, but I have to. This isn’t meant to be. This isn’t how it works. Not how my life is going to work, at least. It can’t be.
Forcing my eyes away from the body that I want to memorize, I practically run inside the house and lock the door of my bedroom behind me. I’m dripping on the floor, and absolute mess, and I’m going to be stuck here alone with that man for the next three months.
I am in so much trouble.
4
Harlan
Dawn comes bright and early on the ranch. As soon as the sky brightens my eyes are open. There’s lot of work to get done and no time to waste. Though this morning I would rather sleep in because of all the tossing and turning I did last night. Knowing that Melena was right on the other side of the wall did me in.
When she ran from the shower and locked herself in her room, she didn’t come out for the rest of the evening. Hell, I’ll be lucky if she comes out at all at this point.
I spent a lot of time in my room last night as well, but not because I was avoiding Melena. Because I knew that if I saw her again the urge to touch her would be overwhelming.
When I heard the door to the house slam, I didn’t pause for a second before I soaped up my hand and started pumping my cock. The flimsy wall of the shower creaked as I leaned one hand on it to steady myself as I jerked off, fast and viscously, needing the release after being around her for just an hour. I fucked my hand thinking of her in those hot pink panties. I imagined her in the shower, just minutes before. Running her soapy hands up and down her body, around her tits, between her legs. I was surrounded by the smell of her soap and shampoo, and I imagined that my hand was her small hand, jerking my cock and whispering dirty things in my ear. How she wanted to taste me. How she’d never felt a cock so hard before. I thought about how I’d reach down and touch her pussy. Drag a finger up her slit and find her dripping wet. I came hard against the shower wall with loud grunts, and it’s a miracle the shower was still standing at all by the time I was done.
All night long visions of her floated behind my eyes. I kept replaying her look of surprise and awe when she saw my body in the shower. How she couldn’t look away. If the universe had ever created the perfect facial expression, it was that one. Shock mixed with desire and raw appreciation. It only made me harder. And it was only after jerking off twice more, so aware of her on the other side of that wall, that I finally feel asleep, just a couple of hours before dawn.
And now I’m lying here, morning wood nearly painful wondering if she’s still asleep.
The towel she was wearing didn’t hide as much as she thought it did, and it only made me harder to think about. Perfect, delicious curves against the flat backdrop of Texas. God, it has been a long time since I’ve been with anyone, but that isn’t the source of this desperation. It’s all her. She is…something else.
My cock practically falls into my hand again. It isn’t going to take long for me to come, thinking about her and her perfect body and imagining the way she’d moan if I’d pulled her into that shower the way that I really wanted to.
An embarrassingly short time later I groan into my pillow, spilling over my hand. And I could go again if I had the time. But this is a ranch. There are things to do, horses to feed, and I have a plan to lure Melena out of that bedroom.
I clean myself up quickly, throwing on clothes—including a shirt this time—and head downstairs to the kitchen. Like everything else on the ranch, it is startlingly basic. Most of the cabinetry and counters have been demoed already, and just the big old country stove, the refrigerator, and a huge wood table that practically spans the room are left. I don’t mind that, but Melena is from the city and she’s used to more creature comforts than this. Dishwashers, espresso machines, all sorts of fancy appliances.
It’ll be months before this kitchen is ready for its professional kitchen staff with all its complicated gadgetry, but these basics are plenty for me. Since I’ve worked on ranches like this for years, many even more bare bones than this one, I’m a master at making hearty ranch breakfasts with nothing more than a camp fire and a cast iron pan. A man’s got to eat, especially before a hard day of work, and there’s something in me that wants to show Melena that ranch life is the good life, despite the differences from the big city.
Step one, always, is a good strong cup of coffee. Doesn’t matter where I am, I always have my favorite coffee grounds and basic equipment for the best pour over you’ve ever had. I find the kettle and fill it up, strike a match and light the stove. I drove the two hours to the large market in the closest town before she arrived, so the refrigerator and pantry are stocked for the next couple of weeks. I reach in and grab a half dozen eggs, some thick sliced bacon, and butter. I heat the cast iron pan on the stove, and wait until I feel the heat coming off of it before I throw down half the bacon. It sizzles just as the kettle whistles. I look out the window and see the beautiful, wide open country, and I can’t help but feel excitement for this day. And Melena definitely has something to do with that.
Thirty minutes later the table is set. Thick slices of county bread are buttered, a m
ound of scrambled eggs sits beside the crispy bacon, and two mugs are on the table, waiting for Melena to finally come downstairs. I’m hoping the smell of bacon and eggs will bring her downstairs. She didn’t join me for dinner last night and I imagine she’s starving by now.
When I hear the stairs creak behind me, I smile. So the scent of food works. Good. I was starting to wonder if that girl ever eats.
Turning to face her, I see her hesitate on the stairs. Her hair hangs messy around her shoulders, and her eyes are bleary with sleep. She’s still in pajamas, short shorts that show off her tan and toned legs, and a shirt with a neck that’s too big and falling off her shoulder. It’s chilly enough in the morning that I can immediately tell that she’s not wearing a bra, nipples showing through the fabric. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she’d woken up from a night of good, dirty fun. Jesus.
The sun is barely above the horizon, so it’s probably a bit early for her. But that dazed look does it for me too, and I shift my body so that my erection isn’t immediately obvious. Just being around this woman is going to put a permanent dent in my blood supply if some of it’s always going to be in my dick.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning.” The word is quiet. Hesitant. “You made breakfast?”
“I did. Welcome to the ranch.”
She comes the rest of the way down the stairs and looks around, hugging herself around the waist. She looks lost and unsure, like she’s not exactly sure what to do. “It’s not poisoned,” I say, grinning. “Coffee?”
“God yes, thank you.”
I grab the kettle, still hot, and spoon in two heaps of coffee into the filter. I pour the hot water over the grounds and into her mug. The kitchen immediately fills with the smell of fresh brewed coffee. I think I hear Melena moan.
“How do you take it?” I ask, as I carefully place the steaming mug in front of her.
“Black in the morning; sugar and cream in the afternoon.”
Leaning over the table to put the coffee next to her, I raise an eyebrow. “That’s very specific.” From my vantage point above her, I get a glimpse of more skin than I was expecting. That damned top. I could pull it all the way off her shoulder and savage those nipples that are begging for it. Melena doesn’t even seem to be aware that they’re showing. In fact, she seems completely unaware of her own appeal. But fuck, I’m about ready to haul her over this table and fuck her like the cliché that’s in every country movie.
And her groan when she tries the coffee nearly does me in. Holy shit I am not going to survive this woman. “Good?” My voice has dropped, and she notices when she looks at me, eyes fluttering over me like she knows I’m about to pounce.
“Yes,” she says. “Very.”
“Good.” I force myself to step back. “I’m glad.”
I take my seat again, partly because my breakfast is getting cold but mostly to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. I finish my eggs and coffee in half the time, and put my dishes in the sink for later. Outside. I need to be outside and working so that I can get her out of my head for a little bit.
I’m about to make a break for it, take in some fresh air to clear my head of this woman, when she asks, “What happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
Melena cringes. “I mean, Trevor made it seem like I’d be down here with him, not with you.. That’s what I was expecting, at least. That’s why I was so…surprised…yesterday. Without him here, I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do.”
My eyebrows lift into my hairline. “He didn’t give you any instructions?”
She shakes her head. “I kind of figured he’d be here to…direct me. I don’t have a single idea about what it takes to make this a functioning guest ranch. I only agreed to come so I could help my brother. And well, now that my brother’s not even here…”
“Well I have a list of jobs a mile long that I have to do. You’re more than welcome to join me. That is, if you think you can handle it.” I don’t even realize the double entendre before I see a blush spread across her face. Damn. This is not the direction I’d meant this conversation to go. I quickly reverse course, remove any playfulness from my voice. “Or maybe you should call Trevor, see what he has in mind. I only know what he wants me to do.”
“Okay.”
I push out of the door into the morning sunshine. It’s not hot yet, but it will be. I can already tell.
As much as I want Melena right next to me where I can see her working, I can also already tell that that’s going to make a huge dent in my productivity. Can’t exactly fix fences if I can’t take my eyes off her.
And that’s what I’m doing today. Fixing fences. Frankly, repairing all the fences on the massive property in advance of the construction crews arriving is the biggest job. The second is clearing some of the construction sites of trees and debris. But I’ll get to that eventually. The fences are the first on my list so we can make more space for the horses we have, and eventually bring some more on the property.
Throwing myself into my work, it doesn’t seem like very long before I hear the crunch of dirt and stones behind me. I turn and find Melena standing there in jean shorts and a tank top and a baseball hat that makes her absolutely fucking adorable.
“You talk to Trevor? Get your marching orders?” I ask.
“I decided just to help you today. I want to. Show me what you need.”
I push aside my skepticism that this city girl is going to be much use on a ranch like this. Trevor told me that I’d be working with his sister, but he never told me why. But she’s strong, I saw that yesterday. Maybe she’s a fast learner.
To my surprise, she’s more than a fast learner. She’s entirely capable, and once I tell her what we’re doing she barely needs any instruction. We work for a while, and the sun climbs until we’re both sweating. I stop to get us both water, and she takes the cold water bottle gratefully.
“I never should have doubted you,” I say.
Melena tilts her head. “You doubted me? What do you mean?”
I make a face, not really wanting to say it, but feeling compelled to. “I didn’t really think a city girl like you would be much help. But you’re doing fucking fine right now.”
She laughs. “Yeah, my dad builds lots of stuff. I’ve had a hammer in my hand way before it was probably safe for me to have one.”
“Is that why Trevor bought this place?” I ask. He never specified, and I never pressed. His business plans were solid, and that’s all I cared about when I signed the papers—not his motivation. But now that Melena’s here, I’m finding that I’m curious for a little more insight.
She moves, sitting on the ground and taking another drink. “Honestly, I have no idea. He says that it’s always been his dream to own a ranch, but if that’s true, he never talked about it with me.”
“People have private dreams.”
Her face shutters for a moment. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Do you think he’s dedicated to the project?”
She nods. “Yeah. He may not seem like it, but Trevor is a freight train when he wants something. He won’t stop until he makes this place what he’s envisioning.” Looking around, she grimaces. “I just wish that he had a little more to work with.”
I laugh at that, a big booming laugh that takes her by surprise, and she smiles. “I’ve seen the plans,” I say. “It will be beautiful when it’s finished.”
“So you think it’s a good idea?”
I nod. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
That seems to make her feel better. I resist asking her why she’s here. Because there’s clearly more to it than I thought. But I’m not sure she would tell me. There’s a tenuous peace between us, but I’m not sure she’s moved on from yesterday and my declaration toward her. Or the effect seeing me in the shower had on her.
“Want a tour?” I’m not sure where the words come from, but I can’t take them back now.
“Of what?”
> “The property,” I say. “This is your home for a while, you should know what you’re getting into. I can give you a better idea of what Trevor’s planned out.”
She nods. “Okay.” But her eagerness disappears when I lead her into the barn and she sees the horses. “What are we doing in here? I assumed we’d be walking.”
I chuckle. “We could if you have a few spare hours. The place is a little big for that.”
“Maybe I’ll skip the tour then,” she says. “It’s trees and dirt. I’m sure it’s all the same.”
I look at Melena more closely, and she’s pale. “Are you afraid of horses?” I ask.
“Just…big animals in general.”
“You came to live on a ranch and you’re afraid of horses?”
Melena shakes her head. “Trevor didn’t mention anything about animals.”
I’m starting to wonder what exactly Trevor told her at all. “Well, if you’re going to be here, you need to be able to be around them,” I say gently, moving to the stall of our gentlest horse, Bean. “Come on.”
“I can’t.”
“You can,” I say. “Do you trust me?” She gives me a look that makes me chuckle, but I hold out my hand. “I made you breakfast without poison, remember?”
“Please don’t scare me,” she says, and the vulnerability there hits me in the gut.
“Melena,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “I’m a blunt man, but I’m not cruel. I can see that you’re scared already. I promise that I’m not going to make it worse.”
