by Meg Ripley
“Are you awake, Sweetheart?” her mother inquired further.
“Um, yes Mom. I'm up. I'll be there in just a few minutes,” Olivia replied, buying herself a little more time.
She rummaged through her luggage once again, looking for something that hadn't been wrinkled and dampened by her vivid imagination. She forced her thoughts toward preparing for this evening's event, finding her favorite semi-casual dress: a mid-thigh length cream-colored A-line dress. It had a deceptively demure front neckline while the back plunged nearly all the way to her tail bone. She stripped off her cotton sundress and slipped into her silky favorite. Combing her fingers through her hair, she checked her reflection. Satisfied, she stepped out of her room a moment later at precisely five-o-clock, taking a deep breath before making her appearance for the crowd she could hear congregating in the living room.
She found her parents talking to an elderly couple across the room and joined them. From there, Olivia was reintroduced to the familiar friends and workers she'd grown up with, and introduced to other newcomers to the ranch and the surrounding area. She caught sight of Dean, standing just inside the room's sliding glass doors, talking with two young women she didn't recognize. Before jealousy could settle over her, she felt two warm, rough hands rest gently on her hips, his thumbs coming in contact with the bare skin of her back.
“Hello again, Olivia.” She recognized Christian's voice, whispering to her just inches from her ear as he'd done earlier that day. “No...entertainment for this evening?”
She began to blush, but forced herself to reply flippantly. “I just thought I'd get myself a good seat in case something happens over there,” she teased back, nodding her head in Dean's direction.
“Smart,” he commented back, “but something tells me Dean's not likely to settle for those when something he wants so much more is so close.”
Olivia's gaze searched around the room looking for someone who might be of more interest to him, but she couldn't find anyone more attractive. Christian just chuckled behind her and carefully turned her around to divert her attention. His hands remained on her wide hips as his eyes, ablaze with desire, met hers.
“I don't suppose I can talk you into ditching this event for a private party with me?” he queried, half serious and half in jest.
“Sorry, I'm the guest of honor,” she replied in a voice so sultry it surprised her. Where did that come from? she wondered.
“I suppose I'll have to steal you away some other time, when all this glitz and glamor doesn't have you so captivated,” he continued to tease.
Olivia smiled. A very large part of her had desperately wanted to say yes. Her brief encounters with Dean that day seemed to have every fiber of her body sensitized, and Christian was an incredibly attractive, compelling man. But it was odd, wasn't it? The younger brother of the man she'd wanted...forever?
Her mother eliminated the need to make a decision a moment later, walking over to her with yet another new neighbor anxious to meet Robert and Christine's daughter. Christian released his hold on Olivia before her mother noticed. And by the time Christine had made the introductions and she could turn her attention elsewhere, he was gone. Glancing around the room, it seemed Dean had disappeared, too.
The rest of the evening passed rather mundanely and by the time the last guest exited the front door, Olivia was exhausted. She bid her parents good night and retired to her room quickly, changing into a simple tank top and boy-cut shorts. Laying on her bed, she closed her eyes expecting sleep to overtake her within seconds. But ten...twenty...thirty minutes passed and still she laid there wide awake. Her body was simply too wound up. She stood and quietly left her room, tiptoeing through the house to avoid awaking her parents on her trek out into the yard.
She wandered out to the familiar structures she'd avoided earlier that day, stopping at the horse barn as she remembered the evening she had found Dean inside years ago. It was silly, but she couldn't resist. She strolled over to the doors and pulled one open, intending to slip inside for a brief moment of reminiscence. She must have been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard the voices carrying on inside, but as the door opened, she came to an abrupt halt. There were no horses there but rather a small group of men sitting around a poker table. Her eyes immediately found Dean; he would stand out to her in any crowd. She recognized Christian sitting to the left of him, but the other two men there were unfamiliar to her.
“Oh, sorry. I didn't realize the barn had been converted to...” Olivia wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. What exactly had the barn been transformed into?
“It's OK, Olivia,” Christian spoke up as his eyes grazed over her meagerly clad body appreciatively. “A new barn was built last year a little further out, and your Dad hasn't quite figured out what he wants to do with this old thing.”
She nodded and turned to leave, but stopped short of the door. Christian certainly didn't seem to mind her presence, nor did the other two men who were doing their best to muster up their x-ray vision at the moment to see through her clothing. Perhaps now was an opportunity to get Dean to start seeing her in a brand-new light; the poker-playing seductress instead of the tag-playing kid. She didn't have any money on her at the moment, but a brief trip back to her room for her purse would remedy that.
“So, what are the stakes?”
“Um, we don't generally play for money, Liv,” Dean explained slowly, reluctantly.
“It isn't really worth the time. We've found it a whole lot more interesting to play for...favors,” Christian piped up.
“What kind of favors?” Olivia asked, a little perplexed. She couldn't imagine this group betting manicures and laundry days, like she'd done with the girls on campus.
“Like this,” Christian held up a slip of paper that read, “Two hours of barn work.” He held up another, “West end fence repair.”
“Oh. So, I suppose I'm going to have to remember all the stuff my dad taught me in a hurry.” She felt a little out of her league at the moment, but refused to back down. Perhaps it was the wine she'd had at the house, or maybe she was just determined to be viewed differently now.
“It's probably best if you don't, Liv,” Dean told her, his hands clenching as he spoke.
She couldn't understand why Dean objected. Did he really think she wasn't capable of a little work on the farm?
“Oh, let her play,” Christian urged and the other two men muttered their agreement. Dean was definitely outvoted.
He was silent for a moment, obviously searching fervently for a plausible excuse. Finding none, he nodded reluctantly.
Christian was quick to pull up a spare chair next to his own and held it out, waiting for Olivia to take a seat. He passed her a pen and a handful of slips of paper and the group waited for her to write up her “favors.” And then the game was on. Dean seemed to relax some as the rounds continued, even cheering for her briefly as she won her first pot about six rounds in. But a few rounds later, his jovial mood fled.
“OK, John. It's your bet,” Dean had good-naturedly urged the man sitting to the right of him.
John was silent for a moment before scribbling down a new “favor” on a blank slip of paper. He took a swig from the bottle of beer in front of him, glanced at the cards in his hand once more, and placed the slip on top of the pile in the center of the table. “I think I've got enough menial chores stacked up for one night. What I want is Olivia's shirt,” he grinned.
Olivia's head shot up almost as quickly as Dean's. At first, she was confused; what would this young man want with one of her shirts? But as his eyes settled on her breasts, she quickly figured out his meaning. Dean had apparently figured it out faster than her because he was already on his feet.
“That's it. Game over. Everybody out!” he spoke menacingly.
“But I'm not done playing yet,” Olivia spoke up before thinking, fortifying her resolve with another drink from the vile-tasting beer the guys had given her. Dean was protecting her...still s
eeing her as the little kid she'd always been to him. If the only way to snap him out of it was to shock him, then so be it.
“You can sit there until the cows come home, Liv. Game's over.” He eyed the three men, making sure they knew he meant it. John and the other man left without another word but Christian remained seated, smirking at his brother.
“Let's go, Christian,” he spoke, meeting his eyes directly.
“You heard the lady. She's not done yet,” he smiled.
Dean was still for a moment, a torn look on his face as his eyes darted to Olivia. But he turned then without another word and walked out of the barn.
“You must have a good hand if you didn't take that 'out', Olivia,” Christian commented after Dean had left.
She put on her best poker face and nodded seriously, but her mind was spiraling in a multitude of different directions—wishing he'd fold, hoping that he wouldn't and wondering if she should have left five minutes ago.
He was silent for a moment and then, “You know, Dean called the game over. You can walk away if you want to.” His hand moved to her arm. She figured it was meant as a considerate gesture, but the feel of him against her skin sent a plethora of new thoughts spiraling through her mind. She shook her head.
“Then let's see your cards,” he told her, meeting her eyes as his thumb began to rub against the back of her arm.
She laid her cards out on the table and waited for Christian's to join hers. His free hand placed his cards next to hers and she sighed, realizing she'd lost, though at the same time her body came to life in anticipation.
“I guess that means I need your shirt, Liv,” he whispered.
“Don't call me that,” she replied automatically, but still she moved from her chair.
Christian swallowed hard as Olivia stood before him. His eyes flamed with desire but she could see something else dawning there, too, and she looked at him quizzically.
“Dean called you 'Liv' and you didn't object,” he began as his hands reached for the hem of her shirt.
He paused there, obviously giving her one more chance to change her mind but she didn't move. Christian lifted her shirt's hem slowly, leaning forward to press his lips against the skin he had exposed. He raised the hem higher and his lips traveled upward, too.
“You want him,” he told her, his lips still pressed gently against her.
Perhaps it was because of her limited experience, but somehow it seemed wrong to blatantly lie in her current position, so she remained silent as his lips set her body on fire.
“He wants you, too, you know?” Christian continued. “He's wanted you for so long, Olivia. You have no idea what he'd give to be where I'm sitting right now.”
Olivia shook her head in objection. She had no idea why Christian was telling her such things...some strange sort of foreplay? But, she definitely didn't believe a word he was saying.
He distracted her then, standing abruptly, having reached as high as the shirt would go before exposing her breasts. As soon as he was on his feet, the hem of her shirt continued upward swiftly. Her large breasts sprang free as her arms moved upward, Christian pulling the shirt over her head and off her arms.
“God, you're gorgeous,” he groaned.
And then his hands were on her quickly, cupping her full breasts as he moved to take one nipple in his mouth. She moaned softly in response, the arousal coursing throughout her body settling between her legs.
Olivia reached for him, her hands tugging at his shirt, and he moved to let her pull it over his head. Her fingers grazed along his heated skin and he groaned louder, releasing her breasts and pulling her hard against him. His mouth moved to cover hers; he was just a hair's width away.
“Oh, hell no!” a deep, husky, so-familiar voice startled Olivia.
“I kept my hands off her for years, Christian. You do not get her all to yourself,” Dean whispered harshly.
Olivia's arms fell to her sides, stunned by the unexpected intrusion, and Christian released his hold on her, a smirk on his face. Dean moved quickly, crossing the room before either of them could respond. His hands moved to grasp Olivia's wrists, lifting her arms above her head and backing her up the few steps to the wall behind her. His eyes met hers and her mouth gaped open at the fire she found blazing there. He took advantage right then, his mouth coming down hard on hers; his tongue demanding immediate entry into the warmth of her mouth.
Olivia struggled against his hold on her wrists, not wanting him to stop, but rather needing to touch him, to run her hands along the firm, sexy body she'd fantasized about for years. His groan was guttural, almost inhuman, when Olivia's tongue moved to meet his own.
It was a long moment before he came up for air, but finally, “You've driven me crazy since you were sixteen years old,” his husky whisper was filled with long pent-up arousal. “I've seen the way you've looked at me, and God, how I've wanted you. I don't give a damn if I burn in hell for it; I have to have you, Liv.”
He took a step backward, pulling her with him before releasing his grasp on her wrists. His hands trailed down her arms and stopped once he reached her full breasts; he lingered there, his fingers outlining their sides. It was so unreal; Olivia's head was spinning. She gasped then; Dean's hands moved to her breasts, cupping them firmly while his thumbs moved back and forth across her nipples. She'd never been more aroused in her life. And then she felt something else; Christian's hands were at her wide hips, his fingers hooking into the sides of her shorts and slowly pulling them down over her ass, past her ample thighs, leaving her smooth pussy fully exposed to Dean's view. Christian slipped the shorts off her feet and then she felt his hand wedge in between her thighs from behind, encouraging her to spread her legs open. She complied easily, so aroused that she doubted she'd have the will to resist anything either of these men wanted at the moment.
His hand moved higher, slowly working his way to her entrance. Dean watched as Christian spread her lips open, sliding a finger along her wet slit. His teasing was driving her wild and she writhed, trying to force his finger to do more. He obliged seconds later, plunging two fingers deep inside her. Olivia moaned, but Dean's mouth was there, kissing her with a fervor she'd never before experienced.
Her hands moved to his shoulders, but the fabric there frustrated her. He recognized her vexation quickly, moving to grab the hem of his shirt, and yanked it off over his head.
“Oh God,” she breathed, realizing that he was even more magnificent now than he had been years ago.
Her fingers trailed along his shoulders, his arms, his broad chest and his firm, rippling abs before the waist of his jeans prevented her further descent. Dean's hands returned to her body, one hand squeezing her breasts while the other found the aching bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs. He touched her gently at first, obviously enjoying watching her body writhe and buck in response. But then his speed picked up, rubbing her faster and faster, as Christian's fingers continued to thrust in and out of her pussy from behind. Olivia had never reached an orgasm so fast in her life, but she felt it building quickly. Her moans grew louder and her fingers clawed against Dean's back.
“I'm going to come, Dean,” her eyes meeting his then, the sensations of her orgasm enhanced tenfold by the fiery glint in his vivid, green eyes.
Christian slipped out of her pussy as her spasms subsided, letting his slick fingers glide along the inside of her soft thighs, leaving them glistening with her wetness in his wake. Dean turned her around then, guiding her gently to the chair she'd occupied through the poker game and pressed her down by her shoulders. He knelt in front of her, spreading her legs wide. She felt completely exposed, seeing both Dean and Christian staring at her womanhood with a hungry look in their eyes; the erotic exhibition shot her arousal sky high.
Dean found the dewy trail Christian had left and his lips kissed her thighs there, following the path upward. His tongue darted out, teasing her lips and she clenched against the tidal wave of pleasure that rushed low in her belly.
She watched as Christian unzipped the fly of his jeans, pulling them off as his rock-hard cock sprang free. He was next to her a second later, his dick just an inch away from her mouth. She opened to take him in, and at the same time, Dean's tongue plunged inside her, thrusting deep before withdrawing and plunging in once again. Olivia moaned as Christian's cock slid into her mouth, the vibrations from her sounds making him groan, gritting his teeth. His fingers laced in the hair at the back of her head, guiding her movements as he fucked her mouth slowly.
His speed increased as the thrusting tempo of Dean's tongue inside her accelerated, but suddenly, Dean's tongue slid out of her. Olivia whimpered around Christian's cock at the loss. Dean's fingers filled her a moment later, assuaging the emptiness. But, this time something was different: his fingers were seeking out her G-spot, and when he found it, she almost jumped out of the chair at the intensity of the sensation. He rubbed her there, his speed increasing languidly as the exquisite pressure built within her.
In his fervor, Christian thrust hard and the head of his cock reached the back of Olivia's throat. The tightness he found there sent him over the edge, withdrawing his member to watch as he shot his hot release all over her chest. Olivia's hands moved to her breasts, testing the feel of her slick flesh beneath her fingers as Dean increased his pace. Christian's hands were on top of hers almost instantly, guiding her movements once again. The slippery, sensual massage was enough to send her over the edge; she screamed as an orgasm unlike any she'd ever experienced before soaked her completely.
Dean stood then, tasting her wetness on his fingers. Olivia was on her knees seconds later, her hands coming out quickly to reach for the fly of his jeans, eye level from her position. Her mouth began to water.
