He scowls, looking at the fans that whirl above each of the horse’s stalls. Chance told me that it’s important to keep the horses cool, but even the fans are simply stirring the blistering air.
“Why is it so hot?”
“It’s Montana,” I say with a slight smile.
He returns my smile, which makes me feel better. Maybe it will be all right between us. “Montana’s summers aren’t usually one-hundred and five degrees at dusk.”
“Emma Jean was telling me about a pond beside the cow pasture,” I say, rubbing the sweat from my own forehead.
His eyebrows rise. “You want to swim in there?”
If he is feeling anything like me, he must be looking forward to that refreshing body of water just waiting there. “I’m game if you are.”
“Sure you don’t mind swimming with fish and cow manure?” he asks, watching me to gauge my reaction.
“After these past two weeks, I would be ashamed of myself if a little shit scared me away. As for swimming with fish, I can handle that.” I laugh. “It’s just like swimming in a lake or the ocean, right?” Not that I have ever swum in the ocean, but I took a dip in the Chicago River a few times as a kid.
His lips curve and his eyes dance mischievously. “I’m always game, cupcake.”
He has no right, no goddamn right to be so gorgeous. I put out a hand. “Truce.”
He covers the space between us in three strides and puts his hand into mine. Our grimy hands touch. A thrill runs up my arm and his eyes become hooded. I retract my hand as if burned.
“Let’s go,” he says huskily.
Outside, the sun is beginning to set, but the sky is still lit with an assortment of bright colors. The scenery is beautiful in an innocent, simple way. The field looks recently mowed and hay lays on the ground in stripes. We walk together, not touching, but every nerve in my body is vividly aware of his next to mine. As we near the pond, I see a large oak, branches sticking in every direction, growing beside it. The setting sun makes the surface of the water glimmer. The top layer is probably as hot as the air around us, but the depths will surely be cooler. I bounce a little in between my steps and halt at the water’s edge.
I turn to look up at Lars. “Do we just hop in?”
He gazes into my eyes with an indecipherable expression. Then he shakes his head slowly and steps away from me. Maintaining eye contact, he peels his shirt over his head and hangs it on a branch of the tree. I stare at his abdomen in shock. His abs are toned and his midriff is twice as wide as mine, but he’s all muscle.
He bends down and takes off his boots. While I watch wide-eyed, he unbuttons then unzips his jeans and yanks them down his big thighs. My eyes veer to his boxers. They cover him far more than a bathing suit would, but I feel my temperature rising.
In nothing but his boxers, Lars walks into the water until it covers his stomach. He waits for my move.
“Shit,” I whisper under my breath. Can I do it? I know that if I do this, it will show him how I feel in a way that words can’t.
I take a deep breath. I want to do this. Keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me, I tug my shirt over my head and hang it on the same branch that he hung his. Thanks to Tamara, I’m wearing a lacy pink bra and matching panties. If it weren’t for her undergarment choices, I would be dressed in a sports bra and granny underwear.
I lift my eyes cautiously to find him staring at my chest. Bending from the waist, I peel my sweat drenched jeans from my body as smoothly as possible, but obviously, nowhere near as seductive as his stellar performance. I leave my jeans in the loose dirt and take a step into the pond. As I suspected, the water is warm on the surface, but as I get deeper, it is shockingly cold. Goosebumps spread across my body. I suck in a breath of sweltering air.
Despite the coldness of the water, I continue walking toward Lars until I am standing chest to chest with him. I’m down to my bra and underwear and he’s in his boxers, but I can’t help the need to outdo him. I bend my knees so I am neck deep underwater, reach around my back, and unclasp my bra.
Lars can’t yet see what I’m doing, but his eyes are full of a feral hunger. Once I hold my bra above the water and drop it beside me, our taunting game is over. I know what’s coming before he reaches with both hands for me. Nothing can stop this moment from happening—neither man nor animal. Being close to him is a long overdue necessity,
In one fluid movement, he lifts me out of the water and holds me up higher than his head while he stares at the water sluicing off my naked breasts. With a strangled groan, he presses my freezing body against his. Our lips are centimeters apart and we share the same breath. I want him closer than he is even now, and I can’t help pressing into him as tightly as I can. He feels big; shockingly big, hot, and hard.
My breathing is heavy and his mimics mine. Suddenly, his lips crash into mine, rough and possessive. I follow him blindly, allowing his tongue to penetrate my lips and his hands to massage my breasts. I wrap my legs around his abdomen and my fingers become claws that rake through his hair. A sound emanates from the back of his throat and I tug at his hair, unable to control my reaction to his hot mouth devouring mine.
I don’t know how long we remain in that position; closer than I would have thought it possible for two human beings just greedily eating at each other’s mouths.
I never want to let him go, but he begins pulling away and I allow a small sliver of distance to form between us. My breath comes in shallow, fast pants, and my lips feel swollen and hot. There is a needy pulsing between my legs. The coolness of the water invades the heated space between us, and I realize what we are doing.
In Lars’ silvery eyes, I see nothing but raw emotion, the pupils so enlarged they make his eyes appear almost black. In the space between us, I feel him wiggling around beneath the water. When he holds his boxers above the water, I reach for my panties. Peeling them off effortlessly, I hold them up. I see him take a sharp breath.
With a triumphant smile, I fling the scrap of material away.
Slowly, much slower than before, he reaches for my body. His eyes depict a serious warning that I should take heed, but I don’t. Instead, I lean eagerly toward him. I think he is going to kiss me again, but he avoids my mouth and goes for the base of my throat, peppering barely felt kisses all the way to my ear. When he reaches my ear, he takes the lobe between his teeth and bites down, and I shake like a leaf, almost unable to hold myself on my two feet.
I pull back and whisper. “What now?”
His hands grab my waist and pull me against him—close enough for me to feel all of him press into me. His cock jerks impatiently against my belly. “I’m going to spread you open and make you mine. I’m going to sink so deep inside you, you won’t be able to walk for days,” he whispers thickly into my ear. “Not yet. But soon. Very soon.”
With a growl, he turns away from me and exits the water wearing nothing but his dignity. I watch him dress.
“Come on out. I won’t watch,” he says, turning away from me and giving me the opportunity to come out of the water and dress without being seen.
I can’t decide if I want him to be a gentleman, or if I’d rather he watch as I exit the water. Either way, I leave the water, leaving my bra and underwear at the bottom of the pond, likely never to be seen again. The water laps around my knees when he turns around. I freeze. His chest heaves up and down and his eyes glow with a fierce hunger.
‘You said you wouldn’t watch.”
“Why wouldn’t I look at what’s mine?” he asks.
I take the last few steps to dry land and dress quickly. Then I follow him back to the horse barn, neither of us speaking, as if nothing had happened.
But something did happen, and I can’t help but feel as if this is the turning point of our relationship.
Chapter 35
Cass
After skinny dipping with my boss, I thought it would feel uncomfortable, but it isn’t. What I really feel is antsy. Lars has initiated close contact
and a bone-melting kiss, but he has deliberately left me flustered and craving more.
I FaceTime Jesse as soon as I reach the house. As soon as she answers, I lay back on my bed.
She squints at me. “You look…hmmm…what’s that look? Aroused. Oh, wait. Is that drool? Have you been reading smut? Or have you been opening the big book of Lars the Cowboy,” she teases.
“Jesse, I don’t know what to do,” I wail.
“So you have been opening the big book,” she pounces.
“I might have glanced at the first page.”
She laughs. “Remind me again what’s on the first page?”
“We skinny dipped in the pond and kissed.”
“This sounds like a very interesting book,” she says with a mischievous grin. “Why don’t you see what’s on the next page?”
“I want to, but it’s such a bad idea.”
“Why is it a bad idea?”
“Because—”
“—Yeah, yeah,” she pretends to yawn hugely. “I remember how this soap opera goes. You like him, but you don’t want to like him, because you’ll never see him again after this job. I think it’s bullshit. You should just sleep with him and be done with it.”
“Well, I just wish I hated him more than I do. Then maybe I could do what you say. Go to bed with him, enjoy the sex for what it is, and walk away without a second glance.”
“You only have like ten days left. Just do it. You’ll be fine,” Jess encourages.
“Nine days,” I correct.
“Even better. Fuck like rabbits at night...dirty, sweaty, flesh slapping flesh, meaningless sex, and keep your distance during the day.” Jesse is making it sound like a walk in the park, but that’s partly my fault. I’ve been seriously under-exaggerating my feelings for Lars
“Jesse, I have feelings for him,” I finally admit with a sigh. “And they’re growing. A lot.”
She sits up straighter. “Oh, mistake! Since when? I mean, the guy doesn’t even know your real name.”
I bite my lip. “I know he doesn’t. Okay, I just needed to talk this out and hear you say the words. Thank you, Jesse. I love you,” I say and hang up. She can’t give me good advice in this situation because there’s no good advice to give. My phone continues to ring as she tries to call me back, but I put it on silent.
I stand from my bed, walk toward my dresser mirror, and stare at my reflection. I would have never guessed that being someone else could be so difficult. It was meant to be just a job and nothing else, but now I’ll be leaving a piece of my heart behind in Montana. My phone rings again and with a sigh, I go and pick it up, thinking it is Jesse—but it isn’t.
Strange, Tamara has never called at this time of the day. I accept the call and she comes on. She is still in bed.
“Hello, Tamara,” I say politely.
“Don’t you know how to take a good photo?” she asks sourly.
“What?”
“That photo you sent of that Lars guy. It might as well be the backside of a fucking rhino.”
Holy purple cows! This woman is unbelievable. “Well, I didn’t want him to know that I was taking his picture,” I explain.
She yawns. “Take a couple more and send them to me this morning.”
“It’s already evening here and I won’t see him again today. I’ll do it tomorrow,” I promise.
“All right. Get me shots that show his body.”
A steel claw grips my stomach and I try not to show any emotion on my face. “Okay,” I whisper. Thank God, the screen goes black. She disconnected the call. Slowly, I put the phone down on the dresser.
Oh God. She wants him for herself. When I leave, he’s going to think I’m her, and he’s going to sleep with her. An imagine of her bouncing on the blond man flashes into my mind. The blond man morphs into Lars and my heart hurts. I lean on the dresser and lower my head. Nine days. I have nine days to lose the feelings I have for a man I shouldn’t have fallen for in the first place.
I don’t know how long I stand in my room and try to brainstorm ways to stay away from Lars, but I know there is no way I’ll be able to do it. On top of that, I don’t even want to stay away from him.
Finally, I rouse myself, and begin peeling the clothes off my body as I walk into the bathroom. I have plenty of time to take a hot shower and clear my mind before dinner, so I do. When I get out, I feel no better. Maybe I’ll take a walk around the ranch, I think as I get into a pale pink, low cut T-shirt with a shredded back. It’s cute and not too revealing, with a tank top underneath. Then I throw on a pair of frayed light shorts. They are inappropriately short, but there is not much choice.
Quickly running a brush through my hair, I go into the kitchen to look for Emma Jean.
Chapter 36
Cass
The counters are lined with appetizers and food designed for large gatherings, and Emma Jean is wrapping a large glass bowl of potato salad with cling wrap. She sends a big smile in my direction.
“What’s going on tonight?” I ask curiously.
“Lars didn’t tell you?”
I shake my head.
“We have barn parties every few months for the employees who live on site. There are a bunch of them, so the party is usually quite large.”
“A barn party?” I ask.
Emma Jean turns the stove off and moves a large pot off the burner.
“Yup. They’re quite fun. There’s music and dancing.”
“Will…will Lars be there?”
“He hasn’t missed one yet.”
“Right.”
“Lars throws the parties, so he makes sure to be at all of them,” she explains.
“Are the employees the only ones who will be there?” I ask with a frown. I haven’t had to act like Tamara in front of too many people yet, but if I’m surrounded by people who know more about her, how am I supposed to be convincing while acting like myself. For the most part, I’ve been able to be myself lately, but that’s all going to have to change in a crowd.
“No, dear. All the employees will be here, but it’s not limited to staff. Often, they’ll bring family members and friends along with them.”
I bite my thumb. “Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
Emma Jean turns her full attention to me. “Why would a pretty little thing like you not want to go to a party?”
I shrug. “I don’t know how everyone expects me to act,” I admit.
“No one expects you to be anything but yourself.”
I hesitate. She doesn’t know the real reason I don’t want to go.
“Honey, listen to me. You’re a great person. I don’t know what you’re like when you’re in the big city, or what you’ve done over there, but I’ve never seen you be disrespectful toward me, and I can tell you are a fine person. We’re all simple country folk here and ain’t nobody here gonna expect anything from you. You just be yourself and they can damn well like it, or take a hike,” she says passionately.
I smile and wish I could be honest with her.
“Personally, I think you’ve changed a fair bit since you’ve been here.”
“Really? In what way?” I have tried to gradually become less like Tamara as the days progressed, so if they believe I have changed, I have done my job. That also means that I will be able to act like myself.
“When you came here, you looked like you had your head on the chopping block waiting for the hatchet to drop, but over the last two weeks, I’ve seen the cares drift away from your eyes and you’ve blossomed like a flower.”
I grin at her. “Why, Emma Jean, I don’t think anyone has ever referred to me as a flower before.”
“They will when they see you now,” she says with a firm nod.
A door across the kitchen shuts with a click, and I turn toward the entrance. Footsteps grow closer then Lars fills the kitchen door, looking as fine as hell. My heart skips a beat. Only he can make a flannel shirt and jeans look sexy.
His eyes widen as his gaze travels down my body. I r
ealize his choice of clothing is a major contrast to my pale pink top and beach shorts.
“Should I change?” I ask.
He rubs his chin thoughtfully, a faint smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know. You’re making me sweat like a sinner in church in that getup, buttercup, but you probably should wear something warmer. Once the sun goes down, it’s going to get cold. Do you have a sweatshirt or a shawl?”
Of course, there isn’t a shawl in my suitcase. I doubt Tamara has even heard of such a thing. She probably thinks it’s one of the ingredients in rat poison. All Tamara’s servants have packed for me to wear when I am around people is small, barely there clothing. There are no sweatshirts, hoodies, or jeans without strategically placed rips. I shrug. “I don’t really have anything warmer.”
Lars looks me up and down once more, his eyes lingering on my legs. Then, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. My eyes get pulled to his chest, which surprisingly, isn’t bare. A white wife beater clings tightly to his frame as he extends his flannel in my direction. “I can’t do anything about the shorts, but at least I can warm your top half.”
My heart lurches at the smoldering expression in his eyes. I take the flannel shyly. “You have another one, right?”
Lars chuckles. “Of course. Be right back.”
After he leaves the room, I strip off my pale pink over-shirt and slide the large flannel over my black tank top. It’s still warm from his body and smells heavenly. I smooth it down and it falls to halfway down my thighs. It’s at least triple my size, but it’s a nice change from the tight clothes I’ve been wearing lately.
“Here, let me,” Emma Jeans says, coming over to me and grasping the two front ends at the bottom of the shirt. Expertly, she ties them into a rose-shaped bow at my waist.
“Wow, that looks cute!” I exclaim.
“Let me go get a pin,” she says and leaves the kitchen.
Lars struts back into the kitchen dressed in a gray and black flannel. He whistles low and long. “You sure give flannel a good name, Honeywell,” he drawls as he approaches me. I allow him to take my hand and guide it to his chest while he rolls the sleeve up to my wrist.
The CEO & I Page 30