“Are you skinny dipping all by yourself, Mrs. Dennis?”
She yelped and swallowed a mouthful of water, sputtered and wiped at her eyes to find Simon sitting equally naked on the dock.
Before she could respond, he continued, “Your father told me this is where I’d find you. He told me about the tractor and what you had to do. I should have been here, Cassie. I’m so sorry.”
“Did he send you to come check on me? Because if you’re out here just because you feel guilty, well you can just turn around and go right on back. I’m a farmer. I’m used to long hours.” Her voice and her pulse rate rose with her anger. Christ, she didn’t need her father’s sympathy vote in this marriage.
“Cassie, it’s our wedding night. I’m sitting on the dock naked with a hard on because I want to make love to my wife. Your father just happened to know where I might find you when you weren’t in my bed.”
Her stomach did a little flip-flop. “I wasn’t sure you wanted me in your bed.”
He raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. “You’re my wife. Where else would I want you to be?”
“After the way you ran off on me in Vegas, I wasn’t sure where you wanted me to be.” She trod water just far enough from the dock that she could get a good look at the man in the moonlight, taking on the fact that he was here, he was naked and he wanted her.
Before the surrealness of the situation had a chance to sink in, he stood and with a gigantic splash cannonballed into the water next to her. When he bobbed to the surface, he pulled her into his arms and gave her a long, lazy kiss, and when they pulled apart breathless, he spoke, “I’m sorry about having to leave you like I did, and believe me, I wouldn’t have done it if I could have gotten out of it.”
“Is everything all right?” Cassie asked.
“Better now that I’m home with my wife. And just so you know, I’m in desperate need of a little consummation.”
He rubbed up against her, and she could feel his very enthusiastic cock beneath the surface of the water. Then, he heaved her up onto the low dock and she gave a little yelp. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about little else since I left you at the airport.” He shoved his way out of the water and onto the dock between her legs, forcing her to crabwalk backwards, then he slid up between her thighs, pulled her to him and planted a kiss low on her belly.
“Last night when I carried you to my bed, the smell of you made my mouth water. All my long hours flying today, all I could think about is if you smell that good, how amazing you must taste.”
Then, without further warning, he buried his face between her legs, cupping her buttocks in his big calloused hands, opening her to his mouth.
The sound of him, licking and slurping and nibbling, reminded her of someone eating a very juicy peach. As his tongue worked its way up the trough of her in long luscious laps, delving deep and flicking teasingly, she curled her fingers in his hair and arched up against him, making little kitten sounds at the back of her throat. The kitten sounds became growls and the growls were practically wolf-howls at the moon when his lips pursed around her clit and he began to suckle her hard.
She came, bucking and convulsing, as he licked droplets of water off her belly and up between her breasts until he lay next to her, his face sheened in her juices.
With a little wriggle and a reach, he pulled a foil package from his jeans pocket, which she only now realised lay on the dock next to them.
“This is just until we sort out our birth control situation, Cassie,” he said, sheathing himself. “I want the having of children to be our choice, not an accident.”
Once he was ready, he cupped her ass again, lifted her splayed wide, and pushed into her with a strangled grunt.
She gasped and cried out. She knew he was well endowed, but seeing his cock and having it up inside her were two different things. He stilled, slumping to kiss her breasts and the side of her neck, letting her set the pace, and when she was ready, when she no longer felt as though she were being ripped in two, she thrust up to meet him.
Together they found their rhythm, and when the tension had grown until neither of them could breathe, he came with a roar, pushing up into her, raking hard against her clit, causing her to grasp down tight, which sent her over the edge too.
They cleaned themselves with another swim, then dug into the crackers and cheese and the bottle of wine Simon had brought, knowing they’d be starved. Then, from the pocket of his jeans, he pulled a black velvet box. She opened it to find a simple gold wedding band, which he placed on her finger.
“I bought it at a jewellery store my family’s done business with for years. I could have raided the family vaults for as many diamonds and sapphires as you’d like, but you’re a farmer, Cassie, and I know you’d never wear any of those things.”
He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them, his gaze nearly black in the moonlight. “I wanted you to wear my ring, though. I wanted you to wear something that tells the world you’re mine.”
When she didn’t reply, he added quickly, “I mean, you can have diamonds and sapphires too, if you like.”
She raised her mouth to his and kissed him. “It’s perfect, Simon. Exactly right for me. I’ll wear it proudly.”
*****
Working with Simon was like working with the other half of herself. He not only caught on to her ideas, but he often enhanced them, and brainstormed with her to something even better than what she’d originally imagined.
The solar panels were going onto the house next week. Simon had done a lot of the repair work needed on the barn. All the fields had been planted and now they were going down the list of maintenance and repairs that they could do in the interim as well as the plans and budget for expansion and improvements. Neither of them could keep from noticing that her father was spending more and more time with Joanie. They speculated on whether it was just to give them more privacy or if something was going on between the two of them. Her father’s health was improving day by day, and they both agreed worse things could happen than him being in love with Joanie.
Cassie had just gotten out of the shower after the filthy job of cleaning out the chicken coop when the limo drove up the gravel driveway. She stood on the porch in her cool summer dress that she’d worn especially because it made everything more accessible for Simon, who should be up from fixing the pump for the water trough any time now. The man who got out was an older, much more dress-for-success version of Simon. His hair was grey at the temples, and he might have been slightly thicker through the waist, but all-in-all, it wasn’t in the least bit difficult to tell that it was Simon’s father.
Cassie came off the porch to meet him, hand extended. “Mr. Dennis, I presume. We weren’t expecting you.”
When he didn’t return her handshake, only glared at her, she figured this wasn’t a social visit.
“I take it you’re Miss Fielding.”
“You take it wrong then. She’s Mrs Dennis.” Simon came to her side, still in his sweat-soaked t-shirt and faded jeans. He slipped an arm around her, and Cassie was glad for the support.
Simon’s father swayed slightly and the sour look on his face soured further, but he quickly regained his composure. “Mrs Dennis. I see.” He chuckled softly. “Simon, if you’d told me that you wanted a farm, I’d have bought you one. You didn’t have to marry the farmer’s daughter to get it.”
He raked her with the same gaze he might have given something on the bottom of his shoe.
“The farm is mine.” Cassie’s voice was surprisingly calm. “Your son works for me.”
It hurt that Simon hadn’t told his father he’d married her, but under the circumstances, what had she expected?
The man looked her up and down again then turned back to his son. “If you’d needed a leave of absence to go play farm boy for a while, Simon, all you had to do was ask. Honestly, marrying for the privilege of shovelling shit seems a bit extreme.”
“Actually, Simon was fixing the pump,” she
said, squaring her shoulders against the heat of her husband’s body. “I was shovelling shit. Division of labour, you know?”
Old man Dennis looked like he’d eaten a green persimmon, and Simon snorted in an effort to hold back a laugh.
“Regardless of who shovels shit, Simon, I want you back in Chicago. You’ve played long enough, and Maggie needs you.”
Simon stiffened beside her at the mention of the woman’s name, and Cassie stiffened too. This was the second time she’d heard the name, and the first time, he had run off to Chicago practically leaving her standing at the altar.
“Maggie doesn’t need me and you know it.”
“Look, son,” the man took a conciliatory step closer. “Forget Maggie. It doesn’t matter. We can work something out with Maggie, I promise. And all of this,” he made a comprehensive motion at the house and the farm, “well, it’s easy enough to extract you from the marriage. I can have my lawyers start on it immediately. As far as the farm goes,” he shrugged. “Well, just make her an offer she can’t refuse. Women like her always have a price.”
Cassie felt as though her chest was about to burst into flames. She shrugged off Simon’s arm and stepped forward until she stood nose-to-nose with the man.
“Get off my property, Mr. Dennis, before I call the cops.”
The man’s face reddened and his jaw hardened like granite. He glared at her for a second and looked up at his son. “Simon?”
Simon was once again at her side, slipping his arm around her. “You heard the lady. Oh, and Dad, don’t you ever, ever, speak to my wife like that again.”
For a second Dennis stood unmoving, glancing from Cassie to his son and back. Then he spoke to Simon, his voice low and venomous. “I’ll cut you off.”
“You can try,” Simon said. “Now, I believe my wife asked you to leave before she calls the cops.”
Cassie stood stiff-backed, stomach burning, fists clenched at her side as Dennis’ limo drove back down the farm road, then she turned on her heels and all but ran to the barn.
The barn had always been the place she’d come to when she felt helpless, but needed to rage at the universe for its injustices.
It had been the safe place for her anger when Mrs Phillips had wrongfully accused her of cheating in algebra because she had gotten a perfect score on the exam; when Davie Baum had upended her bag in the hall between classes and sent tampons skittering along the polished floor, earning her the embarrassing, but short-lived nickname of Plugs.
The barn had been the safe place for anger much worse and much more devastating than her high school woes, though. It had been the place she had raged and sobbed and mourned her mother’s death. It had been the place she had howled and shook her fists at the rafters in terrified anger that she’d also lose her father. It had been the place where she had raged helplessly at their devastated finances as the medical bills mounted and the situation became more and more dismal.
And now? There was a woman who still had a hold on Simon somehow. Then there was Simon’s father, who had made it perfectly clear he saw her as little more than a gold-digger? This marriage was, against all odds, quickly becoming the most satisfying relationship she’d ever known, and by far the most passionate. Still, she couldn’t help wonder if it were nothing more than just a house of cards and that Simon might wake up at any moment and decide he really was tired of playing farm boy, and worse, he was tired of her, and he would go back to Chicago.
When Simon came to her, she was standing with her back to the open sliding door, arms braced against the stalls they had renovated. He wanted to breed horses—not on a grand scale, but mostly as an experiment in the beginning, a part of their plan to diversify. The planning was still in the early stages, but it was filled, like most of their plans for Fielding Farm, with exciting possibilities.
“I’m sorry, Cassie.” For a long time he stood silhouetted in the door, his shadow stretching out before him, merging with the gloom of the barn. Then he moved to stand behind her, slipping his arms carefully around her waist, as though he feared she might turn on him. In truth, she wasn’t sure his fears weren’t justified.
At last she relaxed and leaned her head back against his shoulders, feeling his sigh of relief, warm and humid on the soft flesh of her neck. “Is any of what he said true?”
“Some of it, yes. I wanted to buy Fielding Farm. I made your father a very generous offer, one I didn’t think he could refuse.”
“But he did.” Her voice was little more than a whisper.
“Well, not exactly.” He kissed her ear and tightened his hold just slightly, not sure what her response would be. “He told me he wouldn’t consider any offer until I’d worked as his hired hand for six months.”
Cassie laughed in spite of herself. “And then he threw in the farmer’s daughter to sweeten the deal?”
He nuzzled her neck and kissed her just below her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and she pressed back against him. “I think he knew all along what would happen. I think he knew that when I got to know the farmer’s daughter, I’d want it all, lock stock and barrel, and buying the farm was gonna cost me way more than I expected to pay.”
One hand moved up to cup her breast and for a long second, he seemed to have lost himself in the soft flesh of her nape and along the top of her shoulder. “But Christ,” he breathed against her throat, “it’s worth the price.”
She huffed out a laugh, then sucked in a tight breath as he gave her nipple a hard roll with his thumb, and it engorged still further.
“Blisters, bruises, broken nails, aches, pains, mud and muck, shovelling shit.” She grunted as his other hand migrated up under her dress to worry its way in between her thighs. “Have I forgotten anything?”
“How about long hard days of lusting after the farmer’s daughter?” He moaned. “God it’s hard to ride a tractor with a full sac and a hard on that’s about to burst my fly. You have no idea how hard it is to keep from stopping the tractor and getting some relief. But I hold it, Cass. I hold it all because I know I get to come home and fuck the farmer’s daughter, the hired hand’s wife, at the end of the day. I know that I get to give it all to you, and you’ll take it—all of it, happily.”
He caught his breath in a tight little gasp as his fingers parted her labia. “And then here you are all wet and swollen and angry, and not wearing any underwear. Christ, Cassie! What you do to me.”
She only heard about half of what he said, breathing as hard as she was, wanting as badly as she did.
“You’re like a mare in heat, you know that?” he said, raking her swollen clit with his thumb and pushing her legs apart with his knee. “Every time I’m around you, my cock takes charge, and I know you’re deep and slick and ready for me.” He hissed between his teeth as she gave the two fingers he’d manoeuvred to thrust up inside her a grip and squeeze. “I spend my time with my cock at half-mast living for the next time I can mount my mare and empty my load.”
With a sleight of hand she hadn’t seen coming, he grabbed both of her wrists in one big fist and bound them efficiently with a soft lead rope that hung next to the stall. Then he tied the rope to the rail.
Half-panicked, and more than totally aroused, she strained to look over her shoulder. “Simon? What are you doing?”
He bit her neck and she yelped, and if it were possible, became even more aware of her distended, swollen pussy.
“Sometimes a mare’s a bit too flighty to stand still while her stud mounts her.”
She heard the zip of his fly and then he shoved her dress up over her hips, exposing her ass to the cool air of the barn.
As he fingered her open from behind, he spoke in a breathless rush. “Oh, she wants him. She needs him so bad, but she needs a little gentle persuasion to sweeten her, to calm her just enough for her stud to service her well.” And then he pushed into her deep and hard, forcing her up onto her tiptoes, forcing her cheek and shoulder up tight against the fresh wood of the stall, thrusting with as mu
ch rage and anger and lust as she felt. He nipped her neck again and when he spoke between thrusts, his voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “I may be an asshole. That may well run in the Dennis family, but I’m your asshole, Cassie, and I plan to service you well and often.”
It was nearly dark when they stumbled from the barn, both on wobbly legs, both with a few bruises and abrasions that had nothing to do with farm labour. In the kind of trance that often envelops people who do what they have to do day in and day out, they finished the evening chores, and devoured the leftover fried chicken and coleslaw along with a huge slab of Joanie’s famous angel food cake before they showered together—an act that always took longer than expected. Then they fell into bed, both noting with pleasure Merrill Fielding’s text saying he’d done a few errands at Joanie’s. It was late, so he’d be staying over for the night.
*****
Cassie had just come back from picking up chicken feed from the Farm and Home to find Simon’s bag open on the bed and him rummaging through his underwear drawer. They had continued on in the cabin after their marriage for the sake of privacy, though with her dad spending so much time with Joanie now, she wasn’t sure that was necessary any longer.
“What’s going on?” she managed, around her pulse that felt as though it would jump out of her throat.
He started and looked up at her, hands full of underwear. “I’ve got to go to Chicago, Cassie. I promise I won’t be any longer than I have to be.”
“Why?” she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed before her knees gave.
A dark blush crawled up his throat, and the muscles along his jaw twitched. “Family business that needs to be sorted once and for all.”
“You don’t want to talk about it,” she said softly.
He sucked a deep breath, dropped the underwear unceremoniously into the bag and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing is ever simple with the goddamned Dennis family,” he said.
Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires Page 21