by Rayna, Eden
Kirk places a kiss on his mom’s cheek before moving to his sister and sister-in-law to do the same, punching each brother in the shoulder in turn.
I answer for him, trying to let my personality surface through the quagmire, “All good things about you, Mrs. Sanders. It’s them I’m worried about,” I say, pointing at the Sanders boys.
Matthew’s hand moves from my back to my shoulder, patting it gently. “Well, it seems like you’ll be able to handle them just fine. Not too many women waltz in here calling them out on their bullshit before even shaking hands.”
I exhale for what feels like the first time since we hit that gravel road. It seems I may make it through this experience after all.
“Where’re all your belongings?” Mrs. Sanders asks peering through the window of my small car.
I look at her confused by her expectation. “My bag is in the trunk.” It takes a conscious effort to not make that a question. Kirk finally comes to stand beside me, switching places with his father.
“Mom, give her a minute before you ask her to marry him, okay?” Garett pipes up and is rewarded with a jab to the ribs by his wife.
“I just figured, since Kirk got you to come all this way, you’d be staying a while.”
“Just until the evacuation is off,” I inform her. A collective hush falls over Kirk’s family and I feel as though I may have offended them.
“Ma, seriously, give her a minute, will you?” Kirk mimics his brother.
She wipes her hands on her thighs like that is a natural movement when moving from one task to the next. “Well then, you go take your bag down to Kirk’s place and wash up. Dinner’s in an hour.” She spins toward the house and disappears through the door.
I turn to Kirk and whisper, “Did I offend her?” That’s not the first impression I wanted to make.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into his side, dropping a kiss on my head. “It takes way more than that to get my mom riled up.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“You made it through your first family dinner. What do you think?”
I drop myself on to the couch beside Kirk where he’s comfortably seated, feet propped up on the coffee table. I nestle in beside him, into his open arm and lean my head into the crook of his shoulder. I look around his house, surprised that it actually looks like a home and not a bachelor pad. It’s fully furnished, matching dishes in the cupboards (yes, I snooped), curtains on the windows. There are no milk crates as shelves, no boxes as tables. I don’t know why I would expect it to look like he was still in university given that I had seen his house in Fort Mac. Although sparsely decorated, it was lived in by adults. I guess some part of me is still looking for faults, for a reason for me to tell him I’m out.
This relationship makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of the cliff, ready to jump into the crystal-clear blue water below where everybody is swimming and having a blast. Then I look down and I develop a paralysing fear of heights. Everyone below is shouting, “Don’t look down! Just jump!” From beside me, comes another voice, Kirk’s voice. It wafts through my ears and gives me the confidence to take the plunge. Just like he gives me a reason not to look for faults anymore.
“Dinner was wonderful. Your family is every bit as great as you described them. And,” I snicker, “your brothers were way more civil than I expected.” Kirk had me more than a little worried about them from all the tales of woe he shared with me on the drive.
Kirk strokes his hands through my hair repeatedly, combing it back in a soothing manner. “Don’t let them fool you. They were on their best behaviour, probably because Ma told them to keep it locked down or else. As soon as she’s out of sight, you’ll get a taste of the real Garrett and Dean.” He states it as fact and something I should prepare myself for.
“As long as they keep me out of the pranks, I don’t care,” I joke even though I’m not joking.
“If you want to stay out of it, you’re going to have to watch that sassy mouth of yours,” he banters back. “I know you were on your best behaviour today too but as soon as they see you dishing it, they’re going to give it right back.” He shifts so he can look at me. I see the humour in his eyes but I know that there’s truth behind what he’s saying.
“I think I need a few more days before I promise to completely change my personality for you and your family.” I lean in for a kiss to seal my proclamation.
Kirk wraps his hand around the back of my neck and kisses me back, giving me more than just the goofy peck I was going for. He presses his lips to mine, parting them slightly and hums tenderly until I open my mouth so we can lock lips. Little nips and kisses turn greedier. His tongue slides into my mouth and I accept his offering.
“I have something for you if you’re willing to bend just a little to our ways.” He’s grinning so broadly I can’t say no even if I am clueless about where this could lead me.
“Okay,” I say. Going with the flow seems to be my mantra today.
Kirk hops off the couch and walks into the spare bedroom. I watch him through the open door as he opens the closet and rummages around a bit, pulling boxes out and stacking them then putting them back save one. I recognize it. It’s the box he brought with him to Fort McKay when I nearly lost him for good. My curiosity is piqued.
He saunters out of the bedroom, grinning like he won first prize at the county fair for what’s hidden within the box. He sets it down gently on the table and taps the top twice.
“Go ahead. Open it.” He watches my face as I get ready to lift the lid. Good thing he’s not putting any pressure on me.
From the way he was swinging the box around, I know the contents aren’t breakable so I go ahead and rip the lid off like a kid on Christmas morning. Inside is a pristinely white cowgirl hat, which looks like a smaller, cleaner version of Kirk’s. A thin black leather band wraps around the crown and is joined in the middle with a small gold buckle.
I think back to that night in Fort McKay. The trip he made to see me, the flowers, the mystery box. I was so caught up in my own relationship idiocy that I didn’t stop to think that his actions were how he was saying he loves me. I was waiting to hear those three specific words when in reality, he had been telling me all along.
I gently lift the hat up and tilt my head back, shaking my hair away from my face before setting in on my head. I pull both sides down until it is snug then I look up at Kirk who wears a nervous, curious look on his face.
“If you don’t like it or it doesn’t fit or –.”
“How does it look?” I finger the brim and run my hand along the edge.
“You look fucking hot,” he rasps.
“Yeah?” I ask, climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. From here I can look down on him and enjoy a view I seldom get. I normally feel so small next to him but right now I feel larger than life. Kirk gives me a strength I didn’t know I would ever possess. I used to try to find it through picking guys up at bars, feeling the power of being able to say yes or no to going home with someone on a whim then having the fortitude to walk away when I was done.
What Kirk gives me takes me to a whole other level. He gives me to courage to stay, to feel, to learn and to grow. He makes me feel like I want to be a part of something stable and established rather than always forging my own way to show how I can be different.
“Do I look like a farm-girl?” I run my hands through his hair and liven it up after being under his hat.
“Hell no. Not until there’s dirt on that hat and under your fingernails.” Crestfallen, I drop my eyes and sigh. “But the way you’re sitting in my lap right now tells me you’ll do just fine in a saddle.” He gives me a sly look as his hands land on my hips and drive me down into his growing erection.
Kirk holds me by the waist and pushes me down on him then slides me back up. He controls the movements of my body, sliding me down and pulling me up in an unhurried manner. Just like everything here on the farm: unrushed, enjoyed. We have nowhere to go and
nothing to do but appreciate each other’s company and bodies.
I can feel his hardness growing with each skim across his groin. The rhythm he moves to builds and his hands tighten their grip on my hips rubbing me more firmly against him. Kirk maintains perfect control while I make a mess of my panties.
I begin undoing buttons on his shirt and my hands slide between the open halves across his solid chest. I pull the fabric down across his shoulders so I can see his muscles flex through his movements and feel the sweat build on his skin. My hands sneak around the back of his shoulders and use them to help push myself on him. He hums in approval and begins undressing me, first with his eyes then with his hands.
Naked from the waist up and nipples hardened to perfect peaks, Kirk motions for me to stand so he can rid me of my pants. “Keep the hat on.”
I stand naked before him and he moves forward on the couch, bringing his knees around my legs and settling his hands on my hips. He kisses just below my navel, dragging his tongue up in a blazing line before swirling around the hollow in my belly. The bristle of his five o’clock shadow contrasting with the silkiness of his tongue makes my stomach muscles contract.
“Are you going to make me stand here naked all night, or are you going to give me all those orgasms you promised me?” I dig my fingers into his hair, tipping his chin back so I can look at him.
“We have all the time in the world.” Unless I’m reading too much into this, I feel like he is referring to a much longer period of time than just tonight. A nervous thrill runs through me at the thought of really making a go of this relationship. My first boyfriend, my first love.
“But you’re right. A promise is a promise.” His voice is husky and growing darker each time he says something.
He stands so that I have to look up at him once more. He shrugs his open shirt off his body and loses his pants and boxer briefs, leaving me shaking with the anticipation of what’s to come.
He drops his lips to mine and mumbles into my mouth. “Start counting,” he utters.
I reply into his kiss, “When there’s something to count, I will.” Before my sentence is even complete, his fingers are between my folds and gliding through the wetness the foreplay has created.
“I love how wet you get for me.” I want to tell him how I walk around wet all day, but my words get stuck in my throat when he thrusts two fingers inside me mightily. Whatever I was planning on saying gets jumbled up as a breathy groan. Kirk’s palm presses against my clit, providing gracious pressure while his fingers tease me into a frenzy.
I grasp his full erection and feel the veins popping through his taut, warm skin. My sliding hand takes on the same rhythm as my hips rocking into his fingers inside me. We are tangled in a strange mating dance of fingers, hips, lips and tongues.
Kirk’s free hand lifts my thigh and props my foot on the couch to spread me wider. The new angle makes his long fingers slide deeper. I tip my head back in ecstasy and feel the weight of the hat on my head.
“You’re starting to look more and more like a cowgirl after all,” Kirk says of my new stance. I picture myself twirling a rope above my head and it makes me laugh. “What’s so funny about that?” Kirk asks.
“My imagination just got a little carried away. Ropes, lassos. You know.” Kirk’s eyes sparkle at the idea.
He pulls my earlobe between his teeth and whispers into my ear, “I can get just the rope for that.” My whole body shudders at the thought. Who would get tied up first, me or him? Just picturing myself tied to his bed with Kirk in his hat staring down at me is enough to bring my orgasm on. I squeeze around Kirk’s fingers and dig my nails into his shoulder, holding on to him instead of my hat.
“Whoa,” he says, just as surprised I am from how fast that happened. “So, you want me to tie you up, huh?” He knows exactly what pushed me over the edge.
“Maybe I want to tie you up.” I take his hands in mine and press his honey covered fingers between my lips sucking on them like I’m taking a hard pull on a joint. His cock twitches between my legs as my tongue swirls around his digits.
Kirk chuckles low and gritty. “Babe, you can do whatever you want to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Yeah?” Danielle questions, wondering if I really mean it. I nod, showing her how much trust I have in her. “Too bad I don’t have any restraints on me. We’ll have to save that for another time.”
She presses a hard hand to my chest and forces me down to the centre of the couch. I land with a thud, my erection pointing up proudly. Her eyes track to it and I take my cock in hand, slowly fisting myself. I can’t help the lazy grin that plays on my lips. I love watching her watch me.
Danielle peels her eyes reluctantly from the show I’m giving her and drops her gaze to the floor. She finds my jeans and pulls out my wallet knowing there’d be a condom stashed in there. I motion for her to give it to me, but she’d rather watch me stroke myself while she does the honours. Danielle tears open the packet and slides the condom on, nudging my fingers to the base of my shaft as she rolls it down.
She climbs back on me straddling me as she did earlier, only this time with a different goal in mind. I hold myself still while my little cowgirl lowers herself onto my pole, stopping only when she bottoms out. She pauses, taking a second to adjust to being so full, already letting out needful, desperate groans.
My hands rest on her hips and hers rise to my shoulders. She squeezes her legs around mine bracing for the ride that we're about to enjoy. After a few pumps, she leans back to watch where our bodies join.
“Is this okay?” She reacts to my stiffening body.
“You’re wearing my hat, riding me like a cowgirl, watching my cock sink into your pussy and you’re asking me if I’m okay? I’ve fucking died and gone to heaven.” I feel invincible right now, and it has very little to do with me or my own skill.
I place one hand on her breast, rolling her nipple between my calloused fingers, knowing that makes her come in an instant. I love watching her bounce on me. I try not to buck my hips but she’s pulling me along for the ride and my hips involuntarily rise and fall to meet her thrust for thrust.
The sound of our bodies colliding is only dwarfed by the noises we make as we moan and sigh. Danielle’s head tips back again, just like it did when my fingers were curled inside her pussy. I know she’s getting close. Her walls tighten around me, small spasms begin. I leave my hand on her nipple and slide the other one to her clit. As soon as I make contact she cries out. Her rhythm falters and I take over, driving the pace with my hips since my hands are otherwise occupied.
“I can feel it, Danielle. I can feel you on the ledge trying to hold on. Don’t hold on.” Her hands scrape from my shoulders to the back of my neck, nails digging in as she holds on for dear life. “Ride me, babe. Ride me ‘til you come.”
Danielle whimpers something incomprehensible. Maybe the words weren’t meant to be understood, but her body tells me everything I need to know. She’s past the point of no return. Her hand reaches back and grabs my balls. The second she does that, they tighten in her fist. She calls out my name in a euphoric melody and clutches my cock with her pussy. Everything tenses momentarily then releases in a surge as we both peak at the same time.
Danielle drops her head to my shoulder, catching her breath, still riding me slowly. I hug her in tight to my body, never, ever wanting to let her go. My hands splay across her back, holding her up and against me at the same time until she has the control to sit on her own. She places gentle kisses on my neck and across my jaw, landing a final one on my dimple as I smile at her.
I gently lift her off me and lay her down on the couch. She takes her hat off setting it on the coffee table and fingering the miniature buckle. When I return from the washroom, she is running her hands over the brim.
“Do you really like it?” I climb over her and lay behind her on the couch, resting on one arm and wrapping the other tightly around her chest and pulling her into me. My leg drapes
over hers so we are twisted up like a pretzel.
“I do. I love it.” There’s a tightness to her words.
I give her a gentle squeeze. “We can trade it in if it’s not what you want.”
“You think they’ll take back a sexed-up hat?” She jokes with me.
Nuzzling into her ear I say, “No one needs to know.”
“And no one will. I’m keeping the hat for as long as you’ll keep me.”
“What happens if I want to keep you forever?” I feel her heart thundering in her chest.
“Then I’m going to need a black hat too. And maybe a brown one.” I will buy her a fucking technicolour hat if she wants. I will even build her a new closet to keep them all.
On our own, we settle into the thoughts that come with the proclamation we both made. With the silence surrounding us, it isn’t hard to hear the crunching of gravel outside the window. Danielle stiffens beside me.
“Ignore it,” I tell her.
A loud palm smacks the front door, making the lamps rattle on the end tables. She squeals and grabs the hat off the table, covering her beautiful pussy and wrapping a hand across her breasts. Covering up that way is futile but super cute.
“Fuck off!” I yell.
She gives me a jab to the ribs. “What if it’s your mom or dad?”
I shake my head at her knowing it’s not my folks. They wouldn’t dare come down here when they know I have someone over. They would also knock like civil humans, not thump the door like a wild beast.
My threat is answered with more loud thumping. “Kirk, open up!”
“I said fuck off, Dean!”
Danielle tries scooting her way up the couch to curl into a ball but I tighten my grip around her holding her in place.