by Liz Crowe
“Contractor tomorrow. Don’t forget.”
Diana waved without acknowledging that. She stretched her arms over her head and looked out across the late-summer dry lawn, making mental lists for the next couple of days that included getting the boar’s ribs prepped and smoked. She’d bagged that sucker on a trip down to Arkansas this past spring and couldn’t wait to taste it, although most of the meat would be sold through Brantleys.com and for way more than it should be. It boggled the mind how much city folk would pay for things labeled guaranteed farm fresh, or organic, or even locally cured, which was euphemism for shot with a gun not far from where you sit.
The dogs circled her feet, whining and fussing. Diana patted rumps and scratched chins then shoved them away. “Y’all should best just get used to him not being here. It’s pretty easy, once you realize that he’s forgotten you already.” She bit her lip. Pepper neighed and trotted over to the fence. She leaned in, rubbing the animal’s velvety nose, willing thoughts of Dom as far from her as she could get.
When Diana propped her boot heel on the lower paddock fence rung, Pepper blew into her hair and shoved her shoulder. The house where she’d grown up and come home to time and again seemed smaller, less substantial than it had even a week ago. Smoke rose from the grill, the sheets Dom had hung out on the line that morning waved in the wind. Her stand of sunflowers nodded and dipped. The goat’s loud call of discomfort jarred her off the fence and toward the barn.
“Hang on, Polly.” She snagged the buckets from the wall. Dom had cleaned all the milking supplies the night before. If she tried hard, she could smell him here, his malty, leathery, sweaty maleness. She shook her head, grabbed the stool and sat, collecting the primary ingredient for the pricey Brantley goat cheese that had orders coming in from as far away as New York and Chicago.
Polly flinched and raised her foot. Diana patted her flank and apologized for squeezing too hard and focused on all the things she should be doing, and not on the one thing she kept trying to let go.
Chapter Six
Then
As he climbed quickly down the tree outside Jen’s window, Dominic cursed under his breath over and over again for giving in and letting his dick do the thinking the night before. He’d gone home and had a huge fight with his father after skipping his brewery work in favor of going hunting with Diana. A dumb move and he knew it. He deserved getting reamed out over it, but as usual what could or should have been a fairly simple, you’re a thoughtless piece of shit. I hope you don’t expect to get paid for work you didn’t do guilt session devolved into something worse.
Much worse.
He slunk to the side of the house facing the barn and waited for Mr. Brantley to emerge with the horse so he could make a clean getaway down the hill where he’d hidden his bicycle the night before. As he was making the dash for the barn he spotted Diana climbing up on the horse and heading out for a ride.
The vision froze him, as it usually did. He took in the way she bent and spoke to the animal, then gripped the reins like a pro, all so very much part and parcel of what Diana Brantley meant to him.
“Hey,” her father called out. Dom ducked out of sight behind a row of honeysuckle bushes. “Don’t be gone long, Di. Cleanup is required still.”
She waved and Dom noted the man’s sparkle of pride. She’d always claimed her father had wanted a son, that Jen had been the beauty queen sister and Diana, the tomboy. But to Dom, Diana’s, wiry, energetic beauty exuded a sort of sexy attraction that he found harder and harder to resist. Frankly, he was sick of kissing and light petting with her.
So, when he’d escaped after coming to blows for the third time in a month with his father, his jaw aching and his knuckles raw, Dom had come straight here, ditched his bike in the woods and slunk to the house, determined to do something proactive about shedding his virginity. His nerves had been humming and his stupid rookie dick already hard when he tossed pebbles up to Diana’s bedroom window.
“Hey,” he’d whisper-yelled, desperate for solace, to be where people loved him, but mostly to get laid once and for all. “Let me in.”
He’d wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, hovering at the ragged edge of bolting into the woods. As he had been just about to do that, the side door creaked open, revealing a female figure, backlit from the dying kitchen firelight, long hair blowing in the winter night wind.
He shivered, recalling how shocked he’d been to find Jen, not Diana, tugging him inside, pressing him against the kitchen wall and kissing him until he was blind, dizzy with lust, and single-minded in the way only a teenaged boy can be. He’d shoved his hand up her shirt, fumbled her bra clasp open and grunted in shock and embarrassment when she clutched his dick—considering he came within about five seconds of that new and thrilling sensation.
She had put her finger to her lips, never taking her gaze from his. “Shh. Zip it up, Dom. Let’s go upstairs.”
“B-b-b-but….” He’d nearly caught his dong in the zipper, he’d been so confused and lust-addled. “I’m not….”
“Shhh.” She put a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t want you to be my boyfriend. Diana can have you for that. But I want more of this.” She stroked him through his jeans. “And I have a few things I wanna teach you, too.” She ran her fingers up his shirt and found the ring he’d put through his nipple. “Game?”
He had been. And then some. Which led him to this exact moment of regret, hiding and spying on Diana, wincing at the memory of her hurt, angry expression that morning. He’d swear he loved the girl. He certainly loved being near her, hanging out with her, kissing her. But Jen had shown him some things he wouldn’t be able to live without, now that he’d tried them.
Shifting as his raw dick stiffened, he clenched his jaw. Fury at his craven, selfish behavior toward the girl everyone assumed was his girlfriend, with her sister of all people, forced a decision to formulate in his brain.
He ran alongside the horse path out to the larger field, keeping behind her, although he knew the horse sensed his presence. They burst out into the field and Diana gave the animal its head, letting him run full out across the grassy stretch, her long, blonde hair flying out behind her, leaning into the wind, her strong thighs giving the horse direction, Dom had to sit down when he knees threatened to give out.
Diana was simply gorgeous. Like the hunter goddess she’d been named for. She yanked on the reins and headed over to him, still half-hidden in the weeds. He froze, observing her approach, throat closed up with something he didn’t understand or like very much.
“Christ,” he yelped, jumping up and out of the way of the horse’s hooves. She slid off the saddle, leaving the horse stamping with displeasure at the sudden cease in activity. She marched straight up to him, and shoved him so hard he stumbled and landed on his ass.
“No, don’t get up.” She loomed over him, blocking the sun. “You’re a pig, Dominic Love. I don’t know why I thought any different. I didn’t realize my sister was such a slut, of course, but I’ll deal with that later.” She held out a hand. He reached for it, thinking the lecture was over and they could go near the status quo, with a few adjustments once he showed her how much fun—
When he’d gotten about halfway up, she let go, dropping him onto his butt, which hurt like hell considering the soreness under his zipper.
”Don’t be a bitch,” he muttered, getting slowly to his feet, wishing those words back the second he uttered them. She raised her arm and slapped him so hard his head rocked back.
“I hate you,” she spat. Her eyes were completely dry. The wind whipped her hair around. Panic nestled deep in his chest when she whirled and headed to the horse.
“Wait, Diana, I’m sorry.” He ran after her, grabbed her arm and tried to turn her around, but she took the reins and climbed up into the saddle, jerking the animal so it very nearly stepped on him. “I won’t go away. I know you don’t want me to.” The expression on her face at that moment gave him a taste of his newfound control o
ver the situation. He took a deep breath and kept talking. “Come on down. Let’s talk some more.”
The horse pranced above him, coming way too close to stomping Dom’s feet. Its tail and mane smacked his face. Finally, he snagged the reins and stilled the animal. Dom touched Diana’s calf, feeling her twanging like a live wire and the power blossomed in him, filling his every pore. Making him invincible.
As if sensing his sudden shift into extreme ego-land, she jumped down off the side of the horse opposite him and lit out running across the field, her long legs pumping, her bare arms swinging. Dom smiled, and stroked the horse’s nose. He pulled the animal over to a tree and tied it in the shade, giving it enough lead to reach the small, spring fed creek before following her at a fast sprint.
He hesitated at the edge of the woods, listening for female sounds. His heart pounded, but not because of the burst of physical activity. Years of basketball and working for his father at the brewery meant he was always in great shape. A chill ran down his spine. Chalking it up to being in shade, he advanced farther into the tree line.
“Diana?”
The usual forest sounds filled his head. Nothing to indicate she might be anywhere nearby. But he knew better.
“Di—oh shit,” he grunted when she wrapped arms and legs around him, covering his lips with hers. Clutching at her hips and trying not to fall over and drag her with him, he kissed her and braced against a tree so he could yank her shirt up and off and unzip her shorts.
“Wait. Wait,” she gasped, grabbing his arm before he dove into her panties. But he was deaf to her, gentle but firm, finding her warmth with his fingertips. Using his months of practice with other, willing girls under bleachers and in family basements, plus the skills Jen had taught him the night before, he teased and stroked, keeping his fingers on the right spot as he tugged her nipple to a hard peak with lips.
She clutched at him, making soft, breathy noises. He turned them so she leaned on the tree, and resumed his finger work. They were both breathing heavily by then. She had hold of his arm and his shoulder, had tilted her hips, giving him more access. He shuddered, and starting mentally counting down from a hundred to keep from blowing in his jeans. Luckily, he’d had three orgasms in the last twelve hours or so, which gave him a modicum of control.
She shivered and pulsed against his fingers as she emitted an adorable sound somewhere between a sigh and a squeak. He eased his hand out of her pants.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. He tingled from his scalp to his toes, but something held him back. His gut hurt, his neck ached, and his dick was leaking all over the inside of his underwear. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades as she calmed. “That was beautiful.”
She shrugged and brushed her hair off her face. “I’m still mad at you.”
He grabbed her arms, slid his grip down to her fingers, kissed them then pulled them down to his zipper. “Don’t be mad,” he whispered, closing his eyes when she gave him a few tentative strokes through the denim. “Unzip me.” His voice dropped lower as a crazy, blind urge to flip her around and fuck her so hard she’d cry gripped him.
She hesitated, but he guided her hand, urged her to move her palm up and down.
“I…I don’t think I can do this.” She stroked him awkwardly, but finesse didn’t matter much to him at that point. “Dom….” she said, a distinct hitch in her voice. “Let me just….”
He reached into her hair, fisted his fingers and tugged, making her gasp. Her nipples were hard again, teasing and tempting. He sucked one of them into his mouth, groaning along with her. She moved faster as he suckled first one then the other nipple, his hips thrusting forward, his spine tingling in a familiar way.
“No.” He rose from her breasts. “I want to be inside you, Diana.” His entire body quivered. This was not what he’d felt earlier with Jen. That had been primal and raw and nothing more—a release of his virginity, finally. This…this felt like a much deeper, more painful urge. It scared him, but his body’s requirement to consummate, to connect, to fuck, screw, insert itself into hers slowly deafened him.
“Diana,” he gasped, gripping her arms. “I have…a condom. Pull it out of my pocket.”
Shaking all over, she gave it to him and he ripped it open with his teeth, put it on, then kissed her in a way he hoped showed confidence. Because that was the exact opposite of what he felt. He tugged her down to the forest floor. No blanket, no backseat, no smelly basement couch, not even a darkened bleacher’s underbelly…just him, and her, and the ground. He loomed over her, then eased between her legs.
“I want this so badly, Diana. I know you do too, right? Baby?”
She blinked fast, then nodded.
“Let me in, please. I won’t hurt you. It will be perfect. I promise.”
It wasn’t of course. It hurt her. She cried. God help him as long as he lived his sorry-ass life, he would never, ever forget how hard she cried.
After he’d thrust into her, inept, moving too fast and making her burst into tears, he’d come quick, with a grunt and a shiver while she laid there, sniffling. He had zero frame of reference for the emotions roiling through him as he got on his knees, tugged off the bloody condom, and tossed it as far as he could throw.
He zipped up, noting that he’d not even managed to get all the way out of his jeans and that seriously bad grass stains graced both knees that he’d have to get pretty damn creative to explain to his eagle-eyed mother. Diana remained prone, shirt yanked up, breasts exposed, pants off, crying. He gulped, then tried to pull her up and get her redressed.
“Get away from me,” she screamed, curling onto her side. “Just…go.”
He stood, shaky, confused, and a little scared over what he’d just done. “I’m not leaving you here. Come on, let’s get up.”
She let him help her. After he’d fastened her bra and pulled her shirt down, he lifted her hair and kissed the back of her neck. She let him, thank the Lord. She pressed her face into his chest, her arms encircling his waist, wetting his already sweaty shirt with yet more tears.
“That hurt.” She sniffled, then met his eyes, breaking his heart with her pure beauty—that he’d just defiled in the woods like some kind of rutting animal. Guilt slammed him square in the chest.
“I can tell.” He kissed her nose. “But it does, the first time. I mean, I did make you…you know….” He raised an eyebrow. She blushed and lowered her gaze.
“Yeah, I guess so. That was nice. Felt funny, but good.”
“So, about your sister.” He made himself say it. “It was nothing, for either of us I swear it. Please don’t…think I don’t love you. Because I do. I was weak for a minute and I shouldn’t have done it but I’m—I was—so pent up, you know? Baby?” He tried out a new smile on her, one full of sincerity mixed a tinge of naughty confession.
“I guess, but I’m gonna have a different kind of conversation with her, I promise you.”
He grinned, satisfaction and relief oozing across his every nerve ending. This is good. This would be good. They would learn together how to make each other satisfied. A brief vision of a girl in his chemistry class floated through his head. Renee Reese had been flirting with him for weeks, with her all-American curvy perfection, sexy the way no seventeen-year-old girl had a right to be.
He held Diana—his girlfriend, he reminded himself—tighter as they emerged, blinking into the sunlight. They rode to the farm together, and he took the opportunity to cup her breasts and kiss her neck before the barn rose into view.
He dismounted before her parents could see him, eager to get home, take a shower and get to the brewery for a few hours of work. His dad would be calm by then. His older brothers working, or shooting baskets or with their girlfriends, while his younger, annoying brother, Aiden, did something nerdy and bookworm-ish.
Diana joined him and pressed close, her breasts mashing pleasantly against him. The sudden concept that this lovely girl would be his to do with whatever he liked fo
r the duration made him a little dizzy. He disentangled her arms, kissed her lightly and chucked her under the chin.
“Later?”
She nodded, biting her lip, and he had the very first sensation of separating from this, detaching this nice Dominic—with a pretty girlfriend who put out—from another, darker one. One eager to see what he could get up to with the enticing and sexy Renee, and maybe even with the helpful Jen again.
A grin spread across his face and remained stuck there all the way home.
Chapter Seven
Now
At nine o’clock that night the temperature still hovered in the mid-eighties. Diana blew the hair off her forehead and flopped onto the large chaise lounge on the side screen porch, shoving the dogs away.
“Too hot. Get off me.” She set a bottle of beer and another one of water on the old trunk that served as a table in front of the lounge.
Soreness in her neck and shoulders, thanks to all the energy she’d put into deflecting her mind away from Dom, blocked the primal fury over the fact that he’d not shown up yet. The kitchen had been scrubbed down, the racks of boar’s ribs, plus the tenderloin and the chops, had been coated in her special seasoning and sat curing in the fridge, ready for a long day in the smoker tomorrow. She’d even weeded the garden, put flowers in all the vases, then taken Pepper out for a ride.
The water bottle cooled the skin on her neck and chest. The beer was her third, or maybe fourth, she’d lost count. Sounds of a baseball game from the radio, mainly for background noise floated through the heavy air. Late-season insects hovered and hummed. She gazed at the screen she’d repaired after the cast-iron skillet mishap and toward the driveway, willing Dom to pull up on that stupid Harley.
“You are pitiful,” she blurted, gulping down the rest of the beer. “Pitiful, lame, and weak.” She flipped around so her feet were propped up and floated off to la-la land with the help of exhaustion and alcohol.
