"That's the wrong pen."
"But you said..."
"The one behind the barn. And don't forget to fill up the water. It's hot today."
"So I've noticed, but does the idiot even allow me to have some lunch?" I mumbled to myself.
"What was that?" I heard behind me, and I immediately straightened my back. I refused to show that I was tired. I wasn't a weak person, but I knew he would make me feel less than crap if I didn't work hard enough.
"Nothing. Come here, Penny," I said to the chestnut mare next to me, and she followed me like a giant, kind dog. If I just ignored the man and did my job, he'd let me be. At least I hoped so.
"Better keep up your working morals, Georgia. We don't want that city girl attitude around here."
"Yes, Sir," I muttered and walked with my head held high. If he knew how I really felt, he'd laugh all the way until next week.
His name was Michael Jackson and he was the most handsome man I'd ever laid my eyes on. Long, dark curls were gathered in a ponytail in his neck, with some stray strands sticking out underneath his cowboy hat. He had a full leather chaps, worn out boots and a shirt that always was rolled up to his elbows. And it didn't help my imagination that he always left the shirt unbuttoned, just enough for me to get random glances of his muscular chest.
This magnificent man was known as one of the greatest cowboys in Texas, and was able to tame the wildest horses and turn them into safe riding horses. He kept some of them for breeding, and then he sold the rest. This was a man who meant business. And little old me was hired to be one of his helpers this summer. God, I couldn't wait until September and I could go home to Utah.
"Did you saddle up Storm yet?" Michael asked as soon as I entered the stable.
"No, Sir. I just finished..."
"Well, do it then," he interrupted harshly. Then he snickered and said something to one of his colleagues, followed by a mocking laughter. If he wasn't so damn handsome, I'd walk right up to him and slap his face. But I didn't. I kept obeying his orders and tried to keep my imagination under control. Then, after all the work was done, I hiked up to a nearby lake to be by myself and go for a swim. A little skinny dipping in the beautiful, undisturbed nature didn't hurt. Quite the opposite, actually. It was refreshing.
"Jesus, that was cold!" I exclaimed to myself. Then I froze for other reasons than the cool water. I got the feeling that somebody was watching me. But no matter how much I strained my eyes, I couldn't see anyone, so I shook my head and swam a bit further out. Then I squealed when something brushed against my foot, and swam as fast as I could back to the shore.
I sat down on the stone where I had put my clothes, and let myself air dry in the late evening sun. I felt homesick and I missed my friends. And with a rather somber mood, I got dressed and walked back to the farm.
At least I slept well here. The fresh air and the hard work were actually great, compared to the busy city life where the closest you got to physical activity was carrying out the garbage. If only my boss wasn't so mean all the time. It seemed like he had decided to make my life here as miserable as possible. With passion!
I was getting ready to go to sleep when I heard a knock on the door to my cabin. Who in the world needed something at this hour? It was almost midnight.
"Look, it's late and I'm about to go to sleep, so I'd rather..."
I gulped down my words when two brown eyes met mine.
"Mr. Jackson? What are you doing here? Did I forget to do something? Is one of the horses loose?"
He shook his head and stepped forward, a little too close actually, and it made my imagination run wild. The image of him reaching out for my hand and pull me flushed to his body, crashing against my lips, made me draw a sharp, soundless breath. I closed my mouth when I realized that I was gawking at him.
"I just... You need to help me with the fencing."
I blinked my eyes and licked the dryness off my lips, and he instantly covered what could have been mistaken for kindness, with a cocky nod and a half-smirk.
"Uhm... Right now?" I raised my arm to look at my wrist watch, but remembered that I left it in the bathroom.
"Only if you're nocturnal."
I raised my eyebrows and tried to figure out if it was a joke or if he really meant it.
"I was thinking we could start at sunrise before it gets to warm."
"But that's at 5 am, Sir," I reasoned, but he just kept smirking.
"Got any problems with that, city girl?"
An immediate rush of annoyance choked every kind of sexual fantasies that had been lurking in the back of my mind. This guy was a complete and utter asshole, and he made me so frustrated I could cry. But not while standing in front of him. No way in hell!
"Not at all. Where do we start?"
"At the south side of the meadow."
I nodded. I knew which area he was talking about, and it was a rather rough landscape around a tall hill. Why he decided to put up a fence there, was beyond my understanding. There was no grass for the horses there.
"Good. See you at five outside the barn."
He turned to leave, but before he did, he adjusted his hat and spoke over his shoulder.
"Nice view, by the way."
My eyes widened in shock and my hands immediately went to cover my breasts. I was wearing a white tank top and a pair of short shorts. Really short. But that wasn't the problem. My hair was still wet and hung around my shoulders, making my tank top quite revealing, nipples and all. And his arrogance only made fact that I wasn't wearing any bra, worse.
"Jerk," I grumbled and slammed the door shut. I did not look forward to start the day that early.
At five next morning, I walked through the doors to the stable. It was dark except for the night lamp's vague glow, and if it wasn't for the calm chewing from the horses, I'd been scared. But it didn't stop me from jumping high when a male voice sounded right behind me. Luckily, I knew that voice.
"Ready to raise a pole?"
I rolled my eyes before I turned to face him.
"You've spent the whole night coming up with that line, haven't you?"
I squinted and tried to look indifferent, but it was hard not to stare. He'd forgotten his hat and left his black curls to flow loosely around his shoulders. His shirt was partially unbuttoned as usual, but for some reason he hadn't shaved. That left a dark, masculine shadow along his squared jaw, and gave me a sudden urge to run my fingertips over it. Just to touch the cleft in his chin and graze along his plump and way too kissable lips. The thought made me close my eyes and take a deep breath to snap out of it.
"Saddle up Piccolo and get ready."
"Okay. Who am I gonna ride?"
His smirk returned to its normal place, and I fought against an eyeroll and the temptation to throw him a sour remark.
"You're riding with me," he ordered, and when he returned I actually felt disappointed when I saw his hair tied back and his hat pulled down low over his face. He still looked devastatingly hot, but it kept me from admiring his beautiful face and made it difficult to see where he was looking.
Sometimes I got the feeling that he was observing me like he did with the wild horses he worked with. Like if he tried to find the best way to break it in. But I didn't need to be tamed, and I most definitely didn't like to be stared at. So I was actually relieved when he climbed up in the saddle and pulled me up behind him.
Unfortunately, when the horse started moving, my arms immediately grabbed the closest thing to keep myself from falling. And the closest thing was him.
"You'kay back there, city girl?"
"My name is Georgia, and I'm fine," I grumbled. I knew he called me that just to provoke me.
"Good. Because you're gonna be really tired when I'm done with you."
What the hell is this guy insinuating? If I didn't know any better, I would have taken it to be a bad attempt to flirt. Really bad. But this was Michael Jackson. He didn't flirt. In fact, I hadn't seen him with a woman at all. Maybe he was gay? Then again, nothing about him gave me that vibe. The only wibe I got was that he was extremely attractive and made me...
"Stop it," I said to myself.
"Nothing, sir. Just keep going."
But the horse made a halt, and he gestured for me to get off.
"Why are we stopping? This isn't the meadow."
"I know," was all he said, and as soon as I stood wide legged on the ground, he jumped down next to me.
"So this is the part where you tie me up and kill me, huh?" I burst out, then scolded myself for making a joke out of my own fear. What if I was right?
"Naw," he chuckled.
"Although, I wouldn't mind the first part."
I shuddered from his proximity and mentally cursed at how my body reacted to him, but soon I got other things to focus on.
"Make holes in the ground and stick the poles into it, and I'll pound them into the ground."
I mumbled a reply and nodded vaguely.
"That direction," he pointed out, and I nodded again. That shouldn't be hard. And it wasn't in the beginning. Not until my muscles started to scream in exhaustion.
"Tired?" Michael asked, and came closer. This man had some serious issues with respecting personal space.
"No," I said defiantly and continued until I hit a rock. No matter how hard I tried to make the hole, it was impossible.
"Too tight, huh?" he murmured and came up behind me, and my heart went ballistic in my chest when he reached around me and placed his hands on mine. I could feel his breath against my neck and his cologne embraced my senses, almost as if his arms took control over my physical being.
"I'll help you make it fit."
I cleared my voice to answer, but it was impossible. I just let him move our bodies together as he found a different spot. Then his abs tightened right before his biceps did, and he drove the crow bar into the ground with strength and determination. Then another time. And another. And for each time his body flexed and relaxed, I felt his breath as a little hurricane against my skin.
"There. I think the pole should fit perfectly now," he said with a gruff voice that didn't sound like him at all. Then he let me go, and I immediately missed having his arms around me. If I wasn't frustrated before, I definitely was now. Why did my body betray me like that? Why did I want him to touch me other places than just my hands? I why the fuck did I keep picturing my lips on his, fighting for a delicious dominance while our desire flooded like water from a broken dam?
"I think you've had enough, city girl."
I swallowed heavily and tried to ignore the awkwardness that grew by the second.
"I can handle more," I whispered, actually hoping that he didn't hear me. And maybe he didn't, or he pretended not to, because he put the equipment away against the trunk of a tree. Then he wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his palm.
That sexy sweat... No! What am I thinking? I'd never felt attracted to a sweaty man before, and having these thoughts now made me feel like a pervert. He hated me. I hated him. That was a relationship I'd accepted already the day I came here.
The ride back to the farm was completely silent, very awkward and slightly embarrassing. And his weird behavior after I'd put Piccolo into his pen, didn't make it any better. He'd never openly stared at me like he did while I did my job. And when he noticed that I caught him ogling, he shut down and grumbled something. Then, when I asked him what he said, he just barked an answer without turning around as he walked away.
"I said, make sure to do the mucking properly!"
Then he stomped off.
I was almost done with the last pen and stopped to admire my work while catching my breath. This had to be good enough, right? They were all spotless, with hay and fresh water for the horses.
I grabbed the wheel barrow and prepared to take it out, when a rope came flying through the air and tightened around my body. The wheel barrow tipped and the horse manure spread all over the ground. I almost fell.
My arms were locked and I stumbled a bit before I regained my balance, and my gaze shot to the end of the rope. I don't know why, but I half expected a cocky smirk and two brown eyes glowing in amusement at the sight of me struggling to get loose. But instead I only saw the rope disappearing behind the corner of the doorway.
The rope tightened and I was slowly pulled toward the entrance, and thereby whoever it was that decided to play a prank on me.
"Ha, ha. Very funny. Let me go!"
I didn't get any response other than the rope tightening even more.
"Hey! You better fix the mess you made!" I yelled, hoping that Mr. Jackson didn't see this before the wheel barrow with its previous contents was gone. But I didn't have the time to think that thought through before I rounded the corner.
"What the hell are you doing?" I exclaimed, not really surprised that my suspicions were right.
Michael just snickered and pulled me closer, and as soon as I stood right before him, he grinned mischievously. Then he eliminated the distance between us until I could feel his chest against mine. And because I was so taken aback, I didn't even register that he removed the lasso and changed it with a smaller and softer rope, that he elegantly threw over the beam above our heads. Then he tied me up.
"You're feeling it too, don't you?" he asked.
I swallowed heavily and felt my body burn under his intense stare. I couldn't say a word.
"Are you attracted to me just as badly as I'm attracted to you? Because lord knows I'm crazy about you."
He was breathing hard and looked like he struggled to control himself, and I was shocked to find that I didn't want him to. I wanted him to lose control and ravish me. Every cell in my body yearned for him, and wanted to be touched by his hands or mouth. So I nodded. There was no reason to lie. I was helpless now anyway.
"Ever since you mentioned the idea of you being tied up, it's been driving me nuts. I haven't been able to stop envisioning you like that. Like this, with your arms above your head, clenching your thighs together to ease the aching between your legs. You're wet?" he partially stated, partially asked, and I licked my lips and tried to make my voice work.
"Yes," I finally whimpered. Then I moaned when I felt his soft hands on my hips, carefully sliding them up my waist and ribs.
Nothing about him was intimidating and rough like I'd envisioned him to be. Ruthless. Brutal. No, he was the exact opposite. He was gentle and sensitive about how I reacted, and so damn passionate that my blood was boiling like fire in my veins.
"Do you have any idea how much you've turned me on since you got here? The way your breasts bounce when you groom the horses? The rosy cheeks and parted, full lips when you're carrying water?"
Then he leaned closer until his lips brushed against my earlobe, and his voice dropped until it sounded like a thundering, full base.
"Don't think I don't know you've been checking me out, just as much as I've been checking you out."
He knew? He'd seen me gawking at him when I thought he didn't notice?
"But you..." I started.
"...'ve been pushing your buttons? Hell, yeah. Do you know how sexy you are when you're mad? And do you know how hard I get when I see you work just as hard as a man?"
He paused for a moment before he positioned himself right in front of me. And the way he pulled me flushed to his lower regions while leaning his forehead against mine, made me wanna scream in need for something more. I'd never been more turned on than I was in this very moment. Still, he took his sweet time, as if he wanted to dwell with the situation for as long as possible.
"You're rare. You're not afraid to break a nail or get dirt on your clothes. You're not like other girls. And you're the first one I've had a burning desire to undress in more ways than just with my eyes. That's why I was spying on you the other day."
"Up at the lake. God, you're so gorgeous! And to see you like that..."
His gruff voice drifted off into a groan.
"I couldn't help but to see you once more last night. And your top... Fuck! It was even better than to see you from a distance, naked and dripping wet."
Then he chuckled.
"Do you know how hard it was to force myself to walk away?"
He let his hands sail over my curves like a boat cutting slick across the surface of the calm sea. But I knew a giant storm was brewing, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in the furious waves.
The way his hands cupped my breasts made me wiggle and pull at the rope that held me put. I wanted to touch him, and to dig my fingers into his curls and see if they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to frame his jaw when I locked my lips with his, and to scratch my nails along his spine when I came.
"Do you have any protection?" he asked huskily, as if he was afraid to continue. But when I nodded and tried to get closer to him, he seemed to relax.
I nodded again.
"Good, because I don't think I'm able to hold back any longer."
He paused and looked into my eyes. My nose was flirting with his, and I could feel his lip brushed mine when he spoke.
Then he mumbled something to himself before he hoisted me up and wrapped my legs around his waist, supporting me with his hands firmly around my full globes. How he was able to hold me up like that, became just a brief thought that vanished the moment I felt him roll his hips.
His erection stood strong in his pants, restrained, but more than enough to give me pleasure. At least for a while. I was so aroused that it felt like I was going to climax just by our desperate dry humping alone.
"Do you want this?" he breathed.
"Do you want me?"
"Yes," I moaned and rubbed myself against his bulge. Then finally our lips melded together properly; a wild fight for survival, that hurt just as much as it gave us sweet pleasure. And we both wanted more.
He slowly let my right thigh lower to the ground, only to give enough room to explore my lady parts. I was wearing jodhpur riding pants that were stretchy and gave away the contours of my pussy quite easily. And his reaction was spontaneous and unfiltered.
"Fuck," he moaned against my lips. And as soon as he'd opened the button and zipper and slipped his hand into both my pants and panties, his kisses wandered off and his lips caressed whatever spot of bare skin he could reach down my neck and shoulder.
"Please," I begged, but I wasn't able to put my needs into words. Luckily I didn't have to. My body did it for me. I was drenched to the point that we literally could hear the wet sounds of my pussy when he started stroking me. And it seemed to trigger something inside him, because his hand disappeared together with the one that held my other thigh.
I heard the sound of another zipper and button popping. Then there was a deep sigh of relief when he pulled himself out. Seconds later, my pants and panties were pulled down until one of my legs were free. And finally, he lifted me up in the previous position and pushed me down on his cock.
The way my vagina stretched and embraced his erection made me feel euphoric. I moaned his name repeatedly, in the same rhythm set by him and his ferocious pounding. His hands kneaded my ass to the point that they probably would be bruised tomorrow, but I couldn't care less. Everything went white around me when I squeezed my eyes shut. Then everything exploded.
I writhed and pulsated in his arms, and it felt like he would never let me down from my climax. A new orgasm flushed through me before I could relax from the previous one. Not until I heard his panting stopped with a groan and felt him stiffen, did I manage to tell up from down. The rest was irrelevant.
He jerked several times, rough and with no control, before I felt him relax. Already before he pulled out, I could feel his warm tongue against the skin of my neck, possessiveness clear in his actions. Then he sucked until I groaned in pain.
"We need to continue this inside," he said, and he sounded just as elated as he looked. He quickly untied me and rubbed my wrists to make sure he hadn't hurt me. To be honest I didn't notice the unpleasant numbness in my arms until now, and now I didn't care about anything else but to feel like this again.
I don't know whether it was him or I that managed to pull my pants up, but as soon as we both were acceptably dressed, we ran into his house, only to rip our clothes off again. And that's how things continued until late afternoon the next day.
And the rest of the summer.