Buck Me Cowboy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  So I’ve given up. Every day we work together as I care for the house and he works over the fields, and every night he works over my body with the same expert precision. He knows my sweet spots better than I know them myself now, and can’t seem to get enough.

  I was cooking our lunch one day when he sauntered into the house wearing nothing but his distressed denim jeans and brown work boots. Tyler drips with sweat and I’m salivating just watching him drink a glass of ice water.

  “Hi,” I flirt while sashaying across the kitchen to greet him. His eyes flicker over me, lips curling behind the glass.

  Without words he places the glass on the counter and grabs the nape of my neck, pulling me close to greet me with his tongue. I love the flavor of this man, especially after a day working on the farm. Unable to resist, I move my kisses to his jawline, making my way to his neck to taste the salty tang of his glistening skin.

  “Baby, I have a lot of work to do,” he grunts, but I won’t give up. Moving downwards, I kiss his naked chest, moving from one nipple to the other, teasing him in the same way he does me. His fingers are in my hair, and he clenches tight, making me squeal before pulling my face back to his.

  “Why are you so disobedient? You know I have to work,” he grunts, cocking his head to the side with a gleam in those blue eyes. The man’s so dark from preparing the farm for harvest, his skin the perfect shade of golden brown.

  “You never told me to stop,” I retort sweetly and he laughs softly at my sassiness. But then his face grows serious.

  “Who do you usually sell your harvest to?”

  Tyler’s face tightens as the topic changes, mood darkening. I step back to look at him intently, but the man is all business. So I tell him, honestly and simply.

  “The Morgans, from the next town over, used to buy all the corn we could produce. They’re strictly in cattle, so they use half as feed and the other half as re-sale,” I confide.

  If there’s one thing farmers don’t casually discuss it’s who they buy and sell from. This is top secret business information that you don’t just throw out there in the wind. But with Tyler, I feel safe and confident.

  “Why the Morgans? They must be making a killing reselling,” he grinds out. “You could sell this directly to market and make twice the money,” comes a low rumble, and I take a deep breath.

  “Tyler, I don’t deal with all of that stuff. Pa set it up and I’m just doing what he used to do. Besides, Mr. Morgan called me right after Pa died and promised to buy my crop, so I know I can make money if I get a good harvest for him,” my words come tumbling out, trying to explain. God, please let him accept my answer. We’re already too far along, I couldn’t change direction even if I wanted to.

  And after giving me a long look, Tyler lets it go.

  “Okay, baby, come here,” he extends his arms and I happily walk into them, ecstatic to end this conversation. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he adds and I can hear him inhale deeply, nose buried in my hair.

  “I don’t know much about that stuff, Tyler. It makes me anxious even talking about it. I just need to get through my first harvest,” I explain and he rubs my back in a silent gesture of understanding before tilting my head upwards to kiss my pouting lips.

  “I know. I’m sorry,” he kisses me once more and I move to make our plates while he sits at the dining table.

  I’ve made two sandwiches on this fancy loaf Tyler brought in from the market yesterday. He called it shibotta, or something like that, but after seeing the price tag I just called it expensive. My vegetable garden is flourishing, so I took a few of my ripe potatoes and made a fresh batch of crispy chips, which Pa used to love.

  “You made these?” Tyler asks while examining a chip with a skeptical eye.

  “Who else?” I quip with all the sassiness I can manage.

  “Most people just buy them in a bag, you know,” he raises an eyebrow, teasing me right back.

  “Yeah, well is that bagged nonsense better than this?” I counter, holding up one of the paper-thin slices of fried potato.

  “No, ma’am,” he smiles before popping another chip into his mouth.

  After lunch Tyler goes back to the field once he’s updated me on the status of the crop. Somehow he works five times as fast as me, so he’s already managed to harvest a ton of corn, plus bale some hay, plus move a ton of equipment to the barn. All that would have taken me months on my own, and I thank my lucky stars again for this man.

  Happy and content, the rest of my afternoon flies by as I move between cleaning the house and prepping for my GED test. The amount of information I already know shocks me. Tyler’s quizzed me a few times and I can tell my perfect scores impress him. Sometimes I wonder about him, because I caught him skimming the book early one morning when he thought I was still asleep. He said it was just out of curiosity, but when I later asked him about his education, his answers were unclear again, shrouded in secrecy.

  “You talk like you went to school,” I teased him one night over dinner. When he didn’t respond at all I decided to pry further. “Did anyone in your family go to college?”

  His answer was slow and reluctant, like the words were being dragged from his chest.

  “I’m not too big on school,” that deep voice rumbled. “I always hated it,” he’d said reluctantly. Okay, but this was the vaguest answer ever. Did he graduate? Where did he go? Why did he hate it?

  But I let it go because there’s no reason to poke the bear. Besides, I never feel like he’s hiding anything, just that he’s uncomfortable talking about himself. Lucky for him, I can talk about Pa and me all day, and so I do. Tyler listens to my stories while nodding and running his fingers through my hair, stopping to comment occasionally.

  “But you said the Morgans paid everyone a generous amount for their land,” he questioned after hearing me complain.

  “Yeah, but they didn’t want to sell. Don’t you see?”

  “Why’d they sell then?” he asked quizzically.

  Red began rising in my eyes.

  “What do you mean? Because they pressured them, Tyler! There are three Morgan brothers and they’re pure evil with lots of money. We can’t fight them! Pa was the only one that stood up to their arrogant asses and what’d that get him? A trashed barn and a destroyed car. All because he didn’t want to accept their ‘generous amount,’” I spat furiously.

  Tyler was silent for a moment, blue eyes dark.

  “Assholes,” he finally ground out, and I could feel the anger leaving my body. It was nice to have a teammate on my side, someone who cared about the Double H.

  “Exactly,” I sighed again. “It’s not fair in a million ways, but what can we do? We’re tiny homesteads up against an industrial giant, so it’s not like we have any power.”

  Tyler nodded slowly again, eyes not meeting mine.

  “Fucking sucks,” was his succinct reply, and I let it go after that. After all, what could he do for me? As much as I adored the man, he was a traveling ranch hand, someone with little in the bank, and absolutely no sway with the big guys in the business. So his emotional support was what mattered most.

  Besides, I haven’t even told him the worst part, about how those Morgan brothers were disgusting and crude. Sure, they’d vandalized our property, but even worse was their vulgar and vile behavior towards me. Jacob, the oldest came by after Pa died and grabbed his crotch while telling me I needed a new daddy now.

  Mitch, the youngest, was even worse. He whipped out his dong and peed on our porch, leaving a stinking pool of fluorescent yellow urine right on our doorstep. It took every ounce of pride for me not to cry right then, because it’d only excite them more.

  So I hate those boys. There was nothing or no one that could ever change my mind about it. And it’d do no good to tell Tyler because what would he do? Run over there and wring their necks? Burn down their crop and get himself charged with vandalism? There were no good answers, and it was better to leave out this part of the sad story fo
r now.

  The oven chime jolts me from my thoughts and I make my way to take out the brownies I’ve made to go along with our beef roast and mashed potatoes. Tyler loves my cooking, so I try to make him all types of meals; it’s the least I can do in exchange for all he’s done around the farm and house.

  “Wow baby,” he grunts from the side door and I turn to face him, draped in my red-checkered apron.

  “I was just going to call you in. I hope you’re hungry,” I smile at his sweaty body and he closes his eyes in exaggerated exhaustion.

  “I’m starving,” he groans before stumbling towards me.

  “Oh, my tired man,” I coo while taking his face into my hands, sprinkling kisses all over his damp cheeks.

  “What’d you make? It smells amazing,” he compliments my cooking, as he does every night, before glancing over my shoulder for a peek.

  Turning so my ass is pressed against the stiff waistband of his denim, I point to each pot as he hovers near my ear. His hands are on my belly, pulling me into him, and my body heats from the friction.

  “You’re lucky I’m so hungry, or I’d take you down right here in this kitchen,” he warns with a growl before pulling me close.

  I giggle.

  “I’m sure we’ll get to that,” is my sweet coo. “But for now eat.”

  And with a thump, Tyler drops into a chair at the table, eyeing the food ravenously. He takes a humongous bite so that half the plate is gone in an instant. I giggle again.

  “Glad you like it,” comes my purr.

  “Honey,” he grunts after another bite. “I fuckin’ love it, your food is honey to the gut.”

  I laugh again, throwing my head back. But it’s time to get serious.

  “So is everything okay?” I ask Tyler, settling across from him at the dining table. My roast has come out perfectly, so he’s more focused on the plate in front of him than me. “Is the crop fine? The harvest fine? We ready to sell?”

  “It’s all good, baby,” he answers without looking up, fork still moving in a blur.

  And we finish our dinner in silence before I make each of us a big brownie sundae, complete with chocolate sauce and my homemade vanilla ice cream.

  “You’re going to have me waddling on that field soon,” he jokes when I set his dessert bowl in front of him.

  “I can take it back,” I tease, reaching for the bowl, but Tyler tightly grasps my wrist in his grip before dipping my fingers into his ice cream.

  “What are you doing?” I giggle at the sensation of the mix of hot chocolate sauce and cold ice cream on my fingertips. The blues of his eyes darken as lust takes over. Moving my hand to his mouth, his tongue slowly swirls around my petite fingers. Taking my fingers in his mouth, he slowly sucks the sweetness off, keeping his eyes on me as I try to straddle him, but he stops suddenly.

  “Sit down,” come the words, while my heart races. Oh my god, what does he have planned next?

  “Baby,” I plead. He knows what he’s doing teasing me with his expert tongue.

  “We have to have dessert,” he says as if it’s obvious, before softly kissing the pads of my fingertips.

  I’ve never wanted to skip dessert a day in my life, but tonight I’m dying sitting across from Tyler as he slowly licks the cream from his spoon. Deciding to join him in his little game, I dip my fingers in my own bowl and lick my fingers clean as he did. Clenching his jaw, I watch him move his hand beneath the table to adjust that growing cock and my heart flutters wildly.

  But before I can finish the bowl, Tyler rises from the table and takes it before quickly shoveling my remaining dessert into his mouth with two heaping scoops.

  I squeal watching him quickly wash the two dishes before leaning down and swooping me into his arms. Loud laughs escape my throat as he tickles my neck while carrying me up the steps before gently laying me on soft sheets.

  “You should be naked by the time I get back,” he whispers in a dark tone that lets me know it’s more than a suggestion. Unable to speak under his intimate glare, I simply nod and watch him disappear into the en suite.

  Jumping to my feet, I scramble through my drawer of underclothes, searching for the negligee he gave me a while back. Most times our sessions are spontaneous and impromptu, so I’ve never had the opportunity to dress before Tyler is shoving his cock in me and making me scream.

  But as I struggle with the tiny bit of nothing, my arms get tangled. There’s a mix of black straps and several swatches of cream lace, but I don’t know which way is up. After struggling some more, probably looking like a headless chicken, the straps twist to lie flat against my soft skin and I breathe easy, adjusting the cups. Well, what can be called cups, they’re so tiny and sheer, barely even covering my nipples.

  Luckily the matching panties are quite simple, with only two extra straps above the briefs, which make my waist look much smaller than it is. Looking into the mirror, my eyes grow wide.

  Holy shit, I’m a sexpot! comes the thought unbidden. The negligee has lifted my breasts so like they’re two scoops of vanilla ice cream. Fluffing my hair, I blow a kiss at myself, giggling quietly.

  “Goddamn, you look amazing,” comes a low growl from behind. Tyler’s behind me, I can feel it rather than hear it, and I spin to see him wiping droplets from his neck with a white towel, those blue eyes trailing every inch of my curvy body. But he’s the one who’s gorgeous. Those pecs are defined and muscular, abs the perfect six pack. And that dong. That huge length protrudes from the towel wrapped around his waist, making my mouth water.

  And I’ve gained new confidence as well. So instead of waiting for him to make a move, I purr again.

  “Thank you,” I say, stalking towards him like Catwoman, and for the first time in our three months together I feel in complete control as he stands rooted in place, long dick growing before my eyes. When I lift on tippytoes to kiss his soft lips, the alpha remains still, so I run my tongue across his mouth before kissing his jawline and neck. Gone is the saltiness, replaced by the fresh clean flavor of man that I love so much.

  His cock presses into me as I make my way down his body, licking every droplet of water from his shower. The lingerie has given me an extra layer of confidence and empowered, I get on my knees, his hard cock directly in front of my face. My mouth waters as I slow my seduction to make him wait, watching as his balls rise slowly. Umm, he’s real horny, just the way I like.

  “Maisie, please,” he grunts, thrusting his cock forward, confirming my suspicion.

  “Please what?” I ask before biting my bottom lip in the way I know drives him crazy. His cock grows shiny from the pre-cum coating the head of his manhood. Throwing his head back, he speaks to the ceiling, control level obviously plummeting.

  “Suck it, Maisie,” he bites through his teeth. He must not like this game so much from the other side.

  He’s had enough torture, so I slowly run the flat of my tongue across the tip of his cock, soaking up his arousal before humming my delight. Tyler always tastes so sweet after a long shower. Lining slow, sloppy kisses up the shaft, I sense his impatience as he shifts his weight and drops his hand to my hair.

  But rather than giving in, I lick to the base and twirl my tongue in circles. His breathing is loud and harsh when I make my way to his balls, taking both in my mouth and sucking gently. Those thighs instinctively open, spreading further as he takes a deep breath, that big chest growing big.

  But Tyler’s shown me heaven, because when his legs spread, I spy that narrow strip of flesh between his balls and his asshole. His perineum, that’s right, that sensitive spot right in front of his anus, and something in me has to taste it. Leaning forward, I run my tongue down this thin strip of private flesh, savoring his vulnerability. Fuck, this is so sexy, me licking the cowboy here, making his legs wobble.

  And a strange sound slips out of his mouth then. It’s a mix of moan, cry, and growl, an alpha at his peak, letting a woman use him, letting him become a fucktoy. Oh shit, my nips grow hard, pussy dr
ipping at that sound.

  “You like big guy?” comes my coo, as I lick his soft, secret skin again, fondling his balls with one hand, dick with the other. My tongue snakes out again, savoring that sweet spot once more. “You like?”

  But Tyler’s not fucking around.

  “Put me in your mouth right now, baby girl,” he rasps, hand grabbing my hair, and I oblige. Repositioning myself, I bump his cock playfully with my cheek. Oh shit, his erection is so severe it looks painful.

  “You want to fuck my mouth?” I ask lightly and his head instantly drops, eyes looking at me in disbelief.

  “What do you think?” he rasps again, blue eyes blazing into mine.

  But I run with it, using my newfound confidence.

  “Then do it Daddy. If you want to fuck my mouth, then do it. I’m a slutty bitch, teach me a lesson,” I retort sassily, and his fist instantly clenches a fistful of hair before his cock is thrust into my throat. I’m jump backwards immediately, trying to avoid some of his monstrous cock, but he pulls my hair, thrusting himself deeper into my mouth.

  “Take it, you dirty bitch!” he growls, grabbing my hair as his hips pump forward. Oh shit, oh shit! He’s fucking me just like he would my pussy, a deep heave, one-two, one-two. His cock is shoved down my tight throat, and just seeing the immense pleasure on his face makes me cream in my new lingerie, sticky wetness dripping between my thighs.

  “Of fuck, baby! Unnh! Fuck!” he groans and I inhale, opening my throat wider to take in a little more of him. Twisting my neck from side to side, I swivel my mouth around his throbbing dick as his hand pulls so roughly on my hair. Oh shit, I’ve never seen Tyler lose control like this, his body begs for release, jerking roughly with the slightest movement of my tongue.

  Every one of his groans is followed by a high-pitched moan; his body is on the verge of an eruption and it can’t come soon enough. My eyes water from the pressure, jaws aching when he looks down at me, blue eyes fierce.

  “Open up,” he snarls and instantly, a thick, warm liquid splashes down my esophagus, bubbly and frothy, making me choke.