by Meg Ripley
“Of course it's still your room. You'll always have a place here at home,” Christine assured her.
Olivia smiled brightly and then continued to her room with her rolling luggage in tow. Closing the door behind her, she rolled the luggage to the bed and immediately began stripping off the viscose dress clinging to her heated skin. She unzipped her luggage, rummaging for a cotton sundress and then continued onto the window, enjoying the coolness of the room's air conditioning on her naked flesh. She pulled the curtains aside—there was seldom anyone so near to the house in the rear yard. As she looked around, it surprised her to find the familiar scene outside so comforting. It's as if she'd been away out of necessity for all these years and just now coming home to the place she'd missed so much.
“Strange,” she thought, feeling rather perplexed. Had she really just been the petulant child, determined to do things differently? Is this where she had belonged all along?
Her thoughts changed direction quickly as she saw Dean striding through the yard. God, he was gorgeous. Over six feet tall, broad shouldered, sinewy muscle everywhere. Olivia could feel her satin thong getting wetter with every second she continued to stare at the cowboy Adonis in the yard. Funny though, she remembered him spending a whole lot more time with the horses when she was here last, and less time looking like he was running the place...
Oh, hell! That was it, wasn't it? Her dad was in his sixties, and his daughter had shown absolutely no interest in taking over the ranch. Dean looked like he was running the ranch because he was. The idea of Dean permanently ensconced at the ranch both aroused and frustrated her; drooling over him day-in, day-out—no person should be subjected to such torture.
Olivia raised her arm, reaching for the curtain's edge, but her movement must have caught Dean's attention and his eyes found hers instantly before traveling down her body. She knew she should move away from the window or close the curtain in a hurry, but she stood there, clad in a skimpy satin bra and thong. And when his heated gaze returned to her eyes she forced herself to meet him there, staring back like the young, desirable woman she was, no longer the doe-eyed teenager. She'd never been so bold in her life, and a thrill coursed through her body knowing he was looking at her. But he didn't stop. Was he as aroused as she was? Or was he having fun with her, seeing if he could make her squirm? The thought of the latter made her blush profusely and she darted away from the window. But, not before she saw the corners of his lips pull up in a sexy smile, leaving Olivia quite certain he must have been toying with her.
She stretched out her arm to close the curtain and then crossed the room to sink down on the bed. Damn! I'm not here twenty minutes and the guy's already got me acting loopy! Of course it was a joke...I'm still just that little kid to him, right?
Olivia closed her eyes, breathing deeply—an exercise she'd learned when stress overcame her at school—and waited for her calm to reemerge. It was one silly encounter at a window—not the end of the world.
OK. That's enough humiliation for one day, she affirmed as she opened her eyes and committed to getting on with the day.
She slipped into the cotton sundress, smoothing it down over her body and checking her reflection in the mirror. Dean might still see her as a kid, but she really had blossomed over the past several years. Her soft, feminine features gently framed by her thick, wavy hair; the firm, upper swells of her breasts rising above the low neckline of the white fabric of her dress; her soft waist and tantalizing voluptuous curves. She really had become a beautiful, young woman.
Olivia looked around the familiar confines of her bedroom one more time before leaving to rejoin her parents. Unfortunately, her father had retired to his room for a nap and her mother was busily engaged with the caterer she'd apparently hired for tonight's “small” gathering. Olivia wandered to the living room and outside through the sliding glass doors that looked out on the yard. She stood still for a moment, perusing her surroundings and hoping Dean had moved on to some other task elsewhere. There were plenty of ranch hands busy with work around the barn about a hundred yards from the house, but she moved in the opposite direction, heading directly for the forested path she knew was just a few moments' walk away.
A minute into her stroll, she kicked off her sandals and started to run, enjoying the open space, the breeze against her skin and the familiarity of the path she'd wandered so often in her childhood. She entered beneath the shady canopy of the trees and slowed, catching her breath. A sound caught her attention up ahead and she froze, not frightened, but listening carefully to discern the noise. And it became clear quite quickly; the fervent whisper of a man and the quiet moans of a woman. She tiptoed forward until she found them, moving behind a nearby tree to disguise her presence. The woman was completely naked, laying on the blanket-covered ground while her shirtless companion moved along her body, his lips exploring every square inch of her skin. It was so erotic; something Olivia had craved for so long, but the few intimate partners she'd had were too concerned with seeking their own release to spend much time seeking out her pleasure.
“How are the front row seats?” Olivia nearly jumped out of her skin as a male's voice whispered behind her, just inches from her ear.
She turned then, stumbling slightly in her hurry and the stranger's hands came out quickly, gently grasping her arms to steady her. Olivia was flaming red and desperately trying to whisper a plausible excuse for her presence.
“I just got home, and I'd been here so many times before. I just wanted a few moments to myself...and then...” she couldn't find the words to continue. Her embarrassment and the feel of the stranger's rough hands on her soft skin were muddling her thoughts.
“And then you stumbled onto a real-life sex show and couldn't take your eyes off it?” the man teased quietly.
Instead of releasing her arms, his thumbs began to rub up and down slowly. Perhaps it was a result of her arousal from the erotic scene behind her, or maybe Dean still had her feeling loopy, but the stranger's thumbs were sending tiny ripples of pleasure through her body.
“You're Olivia,” he whispered, a statement not a question, but she nodded regardless. “Wow, I definitely get why he had such a...hard...time keeping his hands off you,” the stranger continued cryptically.
“I don't understand...do I know you?” she asked, running his handsome features through her mind in search of some recognition. But although there was something so familiar about him, she was quite certain she'd never seen him before in her life.
“My name's Christian. I'm a horse wrangler here on the ranch,” he told her.
“Oh, nice to meet you,” she whispered and then instantly realized her polite greeting was entirely out of place in their current situation.
“It's very nice to meet you, too, Olivia. I hope we have an opportunity to get...better acquainted. But for now, you should be going. Their break time is over in about three minutes,” he told her, pointing to the moaning couple behind her.
Olivia nodded but didn't move. It wasn't until Christian had released his hold on her arms that she found her feet again and urged them to propel her back toward the house. She ran until she reached the clearing and then slowed her pace. She couldn't help but break out in laughter then, covering her mouth with her arm to muffle the sound. It certainly had been an unusual homecoming thus far. But that was enough venturing out. No more stumbling onto sex shows; no more running into handsome strangers; and absolutely no more Dean. And the best way to ensure it: an afternoon with mom. Olivia picked up her pace once again and headed straight for the glass doors at the rear of the house where she'd exited not long before. She smiled. She saw her mother there, watching as she approached. Just a few more steps and she could secure the rest of the afternoon—nothing but peace and party preparations.
Her mother stepped through the open glass doors and motioned her over. Olivia sped up even more until her mother called out to her. “Sweetheart, you remember Dean, don't you?” Christine motioned to the man who was just n
ow walking out onto the back patio. Olivia nearly stopped dead in her tracks.
“Damn! Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Can't a girl catch a break?!?” she cursed silently, exasperated by her luck.
He stood casually next to Christine, but upon close inspection, she could see the hard set of his jaw return.
“Hi Liv,” he greeted her and his deep, husky voice sent arousal coursing through her anew. He was the only person in the world who got away with calling her “Liv.”
“Dean is taking over for your father,” Christine explained what Olivia had already figured out. “Though, I think Robert will have to be six feet under before he releases the reins completely,” her mother teased the man standing next to her.
Olivia hadn't stood this close to Dean in almost four years, and if she had thought he was drop dead gorgeous from a distance, it didn't hold a candle to what he looked like up close and personal; five-o-clock shadow, tanned, glistening skin, and vivid, green eyes.
“Are you alright?” Christine asked concerned when Olivia appeared to make no effort to respond.
“I think I'm just feeling tired from the long drive, Mom. I'm just going to go lay down for a while and I'm sure I'll be good as new for the party this evening,” she uttered the lie quickly. “It's good to see you again, Dean.” She glanced in his direction, avoiding eye contact as she stumbled through the cordiality and quickly escaped into the house.
In her room, she collapsed on the bed and quickly realized her excuse had not been entirely untrue. Whether from the long drive or the ridiculous chain of events since she'd arrived home, Olivia really did feel worn out. Her eyes fluttered closed and she was asleep within moments. But all the while she slept, her mind tormented her with images of the man she'd longed for since her youth. Strangely though, a new face entered her tortuous fantasies sporadically as she slept: Christian, the man she'd run into in the forest. His rough hands held her from behind, sending shivers of pleasure through her body as Dean approached. Dean's lips found hers, but they didn't linger there long; moving from her mouth to explore her body and leaving a fiery trail with his lips as he descended. Christian's lips moved to her neck as his hands left her arms to cup her breasts. Dean was on his knees in front of her, just inches from where she ached and throbbed, desperate to feel his mouth on her clit. He covered those inches slowly, drawing out his sweet torture. Christian moved from behind her. Suddenly his face was within her view and she saw his jaw harden as he fought to maintain control over his desire. Her jaw dropped open. She'd recognize that jaw anywhere...the way it tensed as he gritted his teeth...
“Olivia! It's time to get ready,” a voice broke into her dream as she heard a knock at her bedroom door.
Olivia sprang up and nearly fell off the bed, stunned from sleep by her mother's voice while still reeling from the shock of that last discovery in her dream. Christian was Dean's brother—a much younger brother who bore little resemblance to his older sibling. Perhaps he was a cousin? But no, that jaw was too much the same to have come from some distant familial connection.
“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.
