by Gigi Thorne
High heels? In the muddy ground?
Then my eyes travel up, drinking in the creamy legs. A pencil skirt hugs the delicious curves of a woman, dipping to a thin waist from the flare of her hips. A green blouse she’s wearing is almost see-through with the light flashing over her, giving the perfect tease of what’s underneath. Finally, my gaze reaches her face. A heart-shaped face with auburn hair frames her soft and almost fragile features.
Who the hell is she?
Getting a closer look, I walk toward the beautiful creature in front of me. She probably hasn’t seen me yet, she’s busy trying to get hold of all of her bags without dropping them to the ground. Murmuring something I can’t hear, she closes the door behind her and walks slowly, clumsily, like a newborn foal toward me.
A chuckle escapes me as I watch her and that gives me away, she looks up.
Everything happens so fast.
One moment she’s looking at me, her lips part with a sharp intake of breath. The next second, all of her bags fall into the mud, and she stumbles with the mixture of shock and anger in her expression. Out of instinct, I reach for her, wrapping my arms around her as her hands land on my chest. In the blink of an eye, the beautiful creature ends up flush against my body.
She’s short. Even in those murder weapon high heels, she barely reaches my shoulder. Her body is light as a feather as I carry all of her weight, but she definitely has curves to kill. Her tits pressed against my chest, heaving as she tries to control her breath after the little panic and that frantic movement rubs her hard nipples against my body. My dick stirs in my jeans, and I curse silently. I don’t know how my hand ended up there, but my palm is cradling one of her tight and perky ass cheeks. I fight with myself to behave, but I’ve always been an ass guy, I can’t help but squeeze.
She gasps, and I feel her intake of breath right on my neck. I look down, and our eyes meet with a soul-searing connection. She has the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen, like an emerald. Clear, bright, and alive. I catch some gold flecks in them. Her eyes look like jewelry, and with the power they hold against me, I bet it’s a magical jewelry that would bring the most powerful men to their knees.
Who is this woman?
She can’t belong here.
“Mr. Cooper?” she finally whispers. Her breathy voice sends another jolt of arousal to my body, and I have two options. Either kiss her or letting her go. Thankfully my mind hasn’t been fogged enough to do the wrong thing, and I let her go.
After making sure that she can stand on her own feet without my help, I clear my throat and try to get my head to work. The one above my shoulders, because God knows she makes the other work with little effort.
4
Aubrey
It’s obvious the Cooper family is ridiculously blessed when it comes to good looks. Braxton Cooper is good-looking, so I expected his brother to be handsome. Rhett Cooper has surpassed all my expectations. He’s tall. At least 6’ 4, I guess. His body is ripped under the layers of clothes. His blue eyes are dazzling, especially under the spotlight of the big light over the gate. I can still feel his body against mine, still feel the warmth radiates from him. God, he’s breathtaking.
Even though I try to act the professional I am, after the most erotic moment I experienced, it’s hard while my feet are covered in mud.
It’s even harder as his eyes eat me up with the unadulterated hunger in them. I press my thighs together with the sudden throbbing between them. I’ve never felt such a huge arousal in my body while no parties are naked and there’s little to no sexual touching if you don’t count the accidental ass gripping. Shame and lust compete inside me with the memory of his hand where he touched me.
“Who are you?” he finally asks.
I can’t decide if he’s checking me out or judging my worth as his gaze roams over my body. I want to fidget in my place like a schoolgirl who is sent to the headmaster’s office, which is ridiculous.
Straightening my back, lifting my chin up, I force myself to have the confidence I always have. I won't let this gorgeous man intimidate me with his...well, gorgeousness.
“I'm the designer. You must have been informed of my arrival. Mr. Braxton Cooper asked me to have a look at your place to see if I can help with your project.”
“Are you working for him?” he asks. His voice is half doubting half accusing.
“I designed his penthouse in New York City. So yeah, you can say he's a client of mine.”
“So, you're from New York?” he says like he's annoyed with the idea, I feel the need to confirm it.
“Yes.”
He looks me up and down again. This time his gaze stays a second longer on my muddy feet.
“Have you ever worked on a ranch?”
“Like designed one? No, but I designed outdoors such as gardens-" I start, but he interrupts me.
“No. I'm asking have you ever been on a ranch? Or maybe to a camp? Maybe the house you grew up in has a big garden?”
“No,” I murmur. I know where he's going with this. “But I’m good at what I’m doing, you can trust me with your place.”
He snorts but doesn’t make further comment on the topic.
“Your room is ready. Third door in the third floor,” he says, clearly dismissing me from his sight.
With a nod, I grab my mud covered bags from the ground and start walking as I pray I don’t make a fool of myself in front of him more than I already did.
I curse my high heel shoes as I stumble with each step.
What was I fucking thinking? I should’ve at least worn my sneakers, but how could I have known? I’ve never worn anything but high heels and pencil skirts when I work, which is all the time.
Heavy sigh and powerful footsteps behind me make me alert.
“Hand me those bags and hold my arm. It’s not like a marble floor in penthouses, right darlin’? You’ll break your neck,” he says. Even though his voice mocking, the strong huskiness under his tone sends a shiver down my spine.
He easily carries my suitcase, laptop bag, and my purse and places my hand on his forearm. I expect him to let me go the moment my feet hit the concrete floor, but he doesn’t. I look around the house as we climb the stairs. The place is big, and it’s well kept. Old, but in very good condition. The structure seems strong. Until we reach the third floor, I count twelve doors which sounds enough for a nature-based hotel. I need to know more about his idea, the info his brother gave me in the email he sent isn't enough for me to design something.
“This room is prepared for you. If you'd prefer to stay in a motel it's a thirty minute drive,” he says.
“As long as it's okay with you, I'd like to stay here.”
He nods and shrugs. “That’s my room down there. Would that bother you?” he asks, pointing at the first door on this floor.
“You don't snore enough to bring this place down, do you?”
He smirks. “I guess you'll find out soon.”
He opens the second door before saying, “One more thing, the bathroom in this floor is common. I can make them prepare another room.”
Well, that sucks, but he already thinks I'm a Princess who doesn't know anything about ranch life, which is true, so I don't want to give him another reason to prove that thought. “I'll survive,” I say with a shrug.
“Good.”
Just when I'm about to enter my room, he calls out. “Designer?”
I look at him over my shoulder.
“Do you have a name?”
A short laugh escapes from my throat. “Aubrey. Aubrey Watts.”
He nods. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I smile at his kindness despite his judgment.
“Actually, I’ll use the bathroom now.” I point out my mud-covered state.
With a grin, he waves his hand toward the bathroom before disappearing into his room.
5
Rhett
“I told you not to send me city babies who know nothing about ranches, Brax,” I tell my bro
ther as soon as he answers his phone.
“Will we do this every day, little brother?” he sighs.
“I dealt with the others you’ve sent. They were here just for the report, I hoped the designer would be someone who understands nature, not someone who comes here with fucking high heels!”
He laughs. “Damn. That’s my fault, I think. I didn’t tell her what kind of property she’d be working on.”
Rolling my eyes, I sit on my bed. “Why her?”
“Why not her?” he fires back. His voice is amused.
Because she's so fuckable, I think to myself.
“For two reasons,” he starts to explain when I stay silent. “One, she’s really good at what she does. She’s not like the rest of the designers who repeat the same things over and over just because they know it makes them money. She loves this job. She has a way to bring out the best of the place. And she’s smart, she can definitely help you shape your idea better.”
I frown. My brother doesn’t talk highly of many people. Unless he’s fucking them and then, he just praises how good they’re in the sack.
“What’s the second reason?”
“What?”
“You said she’s good for two reasons.”
He chuckles. “Well, secondly, you can use some female company in your moody life.”
I roll my eyes. As opposed to my brother, I’m over meaningless sex. It was good in my twenties, but at the age of thirty, I realize what my mom and dad had is so much better than getting off with every willing female. Instead of fucking nameless girls every day, I want to fuck my girl in different ways all night, knowing she’s mine and what we have is more than just a one-night-stand, that we have a future together.
The loss of my parents has made me realize how empty my life is. They left this world so much earlier than anyone would like, but at least I know they had a good life. Their love was so obvious as they looked at each other, and now I hope the same for myself.
“Just give her a chance, okay? If you think she can’t help you with what you have in mind, I won’t push you into it,” Brax says seriously after my silence.
“Okay,” I sigh. “I hope you’re right. I’ve already wasted enough time. I should’ve-”
“Rhett, we were both hurting. We still do. Don’t push yourself.”
I nod like he can see me. “Yeah,” I breath out.
In the hallway, I hear the sound of her heels hit the floor before another door opens. She’s heading for the bathroom probably. Her amazing body that was flushed against mine just a while ago is now naked on the other side of the wall. I lick my lips like a teenage boy who can’t control his arousal.
“Rhett?” Brax says. I have no idea what he said in the last minute I spent imagining her naked body in my bathroom.
“Do you know what size shoe Miss Designer wears?” I blurt out.
The line goes silent, but I know he’s there.
“No, but I can find out,” he finally murmurs. I feel a strange relief that he doesn’t know her shoe size. That means he’s not close with her. I don’t know why it’s my business, but I’m glad about this assumption.
“Okay. Text me,” I say.
“Okay,” he drags. I hear him chuckle just before he ends the call.
What’s funny?
He asked me to give her a chance, I’m giving her a chance. Just making sure she doesn’t break her neck while doing it.
When I hear the bathroom door open and close, I wait for her to enter her room before going out of mine. My sweat has dried on my skin, making my clothes stick to my body. The floral scent hits me the moment I open the bathroom door. The same scent I smelled while she was in my arms earlier. I can’t help but imagine her in my shower, naked and wet while she massages her tits and that amazing ass of hers with this girly scent. My dick pushes against the fabric of my jeans, desperate for some kind of relief.
Angry at my own reaction to the city girl, I pull off my shirt and t-shirt over my head. Unbuckling my belt, I toss it on the counter and go for the buttons of my jeans. The crazy scream I hear from next door puts me in a fight mode, and I run out of the bathroom to her room, ready to kill whoever scared her.
“What? Where? Who?” I barge into her room.
The first thing I notice is what she’s wearing, or the lack of it. She only has a towel in her hands, covering her front while her back is resting against the wall. I can see the delicious curve between her waist and hip. Her tits are pushed up as she holds the towel tightly around them.
I swallow, trying to understand what scares her.
“What is it?” I finally ask. My voice is gruff as I try to not look at her body.
“There’s a thing on the bed.”
With a frown, I walk toward the bed.
“Be careful. That thing is big,” she says behind me, and I smile at her concern.
When I open the duvet, she probably threw at whatever under it, something green jumps on my leg and she screams again.
It’s a… “Moth?” I breathe out. “Are you afraid of a moth?” I ask, laughing.
“Yes. Please, please throw it away. Please,” she begs. She sounds so close to crying. Jesus.
Taking the moth between my palms, I let him go from the window, but with the light shining from the room, it flies right back.
Aubrey screams and runs away from the room. I hear another door open and close. Still shocked about her fear, I grab the moth between my palms again, and this time as soon as I let him go I close the window safely.
I knock on the bathroom door, thinking Aubrey is there, but there’s no voice. So, I get in to wash my hands. Shaking my head, I open the door of my room, and there she is, bending and turning around in front of the mirror to see herself. I’d laugh at her if I weren’t fixed on her bare backside. She has dimples just above her ass, and I swallow my groan as she keeps moving and trying to touch her back.
She finally sees me, but instead of trying to cover herself she walks toward me.
“There’s something on my back. It’s moving, but I can’t reach it. Please. Take it,” she sobs.
God.
“Aubrey. Aubrey, look at me,” I try to catch her attention, but all she does is keep scratching her back, her neck, and her arms.
Finally, I put my hand on her back, and she stands still.
“Is it that thing? Moving on my back?”
I bite my lip to stop myself laughing. “No, Aubrey. It’s nothing on your back. That thing is gone. I promise,” I say. Rubbing my hand on her back, I force myself not to think how smooth her skin is under my touch. “See, there’s nothing,” I gruff. My cock twitches in my jeans as my hand moves over the curve on her ass.
“Nothing?” she whispers.
“Nothing.”
With a shaking breath, she finally turns to face me. Blush covers her cheek as she looks down and hugs the towel around her like she’s just noticed her lack of clothes. She looks so vulnerable I can’t help but hug her to my chest. The sigh she gives touches something inside me, and I don’t have the heart to tell her to go back to her room. It’s clear she’s too scared to stay there.
I guide her to the bed. She sits with her back against the headboard. Her knees bent in front of her as she hugs the towel around her. I sit next to her, trying my damn hardest not to think of her nakedness.
After a few minutes of silence, she whispers, “I'm sorry.”
In another situation, I’d be angry with whoever did the same thing. I mean, we’re in a fucking ranch, of course, there’ll be animals. The vulnerability and guilt in her voice stops me from feeling like that. Instead, I kind of understand her. I wonder how many moths she’s ever seen in her life in the city, let alone one as big as that one.
“You don't need to apologize for being human, Aubrey,” I say, probably surprising both of us.
“Now you want me gone before giving me a chance, don’t you? I don’t blame you, though.”
Actually, I should. I should want her to
leave. Being here is clearly a shoe too big to fill for her. Instead, I want her here. I want to know more about her.
“Are you always this quick at judgment?”
She smiles. “When it comes to big and scary dudes, maybe.”
I laugh. “Big and scary. I think I've heard worse.”
After a few minutes of silence, she murmurs, “I think I need to get dressed now.”
Turning my head to her, I suppress my groan. Now that she's not afraid, the towel sits on her loosely, showing me the valley between her tits. Her legs are bare, bent in front of her. The towel on her head covers her hair, only a few strands of auburn hair falling over her ears. I wonder if that's her natural color. I bite my lip, knowing there's only a towel between me and finding out. The creamy skin of her slender neck is begging me to nuzzle her. As I keep staring at her, her breathing gets faster, her chest rises and falls in a hypnotizing rhythm. I finally look at her eyes. Her pupils are dilated. There’s raw hunger and need in their emerald depths. The look in her eyes will be what I'll imagine as I jerk off tonight, and probably for the rest of my life. Her lips part. God, she's so fucking beautiful, and as she looks at me that way, like she imagines me kissing her it's so hard to think of something else. She's so close I can feel her warmth, I can smell her skin yet fucking her is probably not the appropriate thing to do right now. It's the biggest fucking tease.
I clear my throat, trying to remember what she was saying.
Clothes.
I chuckle, trying to light up the tension that's palpable. “Yeah, and I should take a shower. I stink.”
“You smell good,” she says, but the look on her face tells me she didn't mean to say it. Swallowing, she adds, “Like grass and woods.”
I grin. “The Princess likes nature scent, hmm? Who would have thought?”
She bites her lip to suppress her smile, making me aware of how full and red her lips are.
“I assume you won’t like going back to that room. I’ll bring your luggage here. Would you feel better then?”