I take a deep breath. “You know not everyone is cut out for farm life. She grew up in a big city. I’m partly waiting to see if she’ll stay.”
Her hand comes to rest gently on my shoulder, squeezing it. “I was born and raised in a big city too, Beau. I don’t think she’s going anywhere.”
“There’s nothing wrong with giving it some time to know for sure.”
Her hand squeezes my shoulder again before she lifts it, and starts walking away.
She pauses, turning back to look at me. “Sometimes you wait too long and lose an opportunity that you can’t ever get back.”
I’ve known Bess my whole life. That’s the most melancholy I’ve ever seen her. As far as I know, she’s never married, never had a long-term relationship. I don’t even know what brought her to the farm in the first place. Maybe someday she’ll share her story with me.
Watching her figure retreat, I can’t help but wonder if my caution toward making a move on Bethany is a mistake. What would be worse, never having a chance to ask her out or doing it too soon and pushing her away instead?
It’s a question I mull over quite a bit that day and into the next. I’m no closer to knowing what to do than when I started. The few female relationships I’ve had have been initiated on their side. My very first girlfriend was the cousin of the Jacksons, a family who still lived and worked on the farm.
She came out for a visit the summer I turned seventeen. Angel was nineteen, and looking back, was probably bored staying on the farm. She decided to fill up her free time with being my first everything. By the end of the summer, I was convinced I was in love with her. Unfortunately, that feeling was not mutual and she headed back to college without even looking back.
In my defense, I was still on the scrawny side back then. After her came my first local girlfriend, Sylvia. This time around, I was twenty and happy to practice all the things Angel had taught me. Again, I was sure I was in love. That was until Sylvia started talking about moving away together. I told her in no uncertain terms that I had no interest is living anywhere else.
She didn’t even tell me to my face she was moving; she just up and left one day. I had to find out from her mother when I was picking up fertilizer from the farm supply warehouse. The next girlfriend I had, like Bethany, moved out to the country for a change of pace. Her name was Josie and that change of pace only suited her eight months before she got bored and moved back to Atlanta.
Whatever woman I end up with, if I end up with someone, will have to understand that being a farmer is part of who I am. I enjoy waking up early, except for this morning after staying up too late reading. Most mornings, I’m the first one up and out the door. Being outdoors is where I am most comfortable. Walls, no matter how tall, always seem to close in after a while.
There’s a hope though, after spending time with Bethany and learning more about her, that maybe she’ll stick around long enough for me to take that chance. Once I’ve finished my work for the day, I head back to my cabin to shower before dinner at Bethany’s. I need a haircut, but otherwise, I clean up nice enough. I wasn’t able to finish the book; work of the farm and needing a good night of sleep took precedence over it.
Hopefully, that’s okay with Bethany. I’d hate for her to think I wasn’t interested in what she did. I did manage to make it to 68%, or at least that’s what the bar on the bottom of the eReader said. I still have plenty, book-wise, to talk about with her even though I’m not done. I change into a newer pair of jeans and a grey collared t-shirt. It had been a hot week seeing as how summer was fixin’ on moving in.
It won’t be too long before I’ll be taking evening dips in the pond out by my parents’ cabin to escape the heat. Hell, it might be fun to see if I can talk Bethany into swimming some night. More nervous than I thought I’d be, I leave to head over to her place. When I get there, I see she’s setting up supper outside.
She looks up as I park and waves. I suddenly feel underdressed in my jeans and t-shirt when I see her in a dress.
I pass the front door and head straight for the porch, smiling as she opens the door for me. “That’s some dress, Bethany. I feel like I should be taking you somewhere fancy.”
She looks away quickly, blushing. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
The table is already set, so I offer to help in the kitchen, but she refuses, telling me it’s all done. It feels foreign not helping her. I sit stiffly, wanting to help her as she starts bringing stuff out.
Finally, I give up and stand. “Sorry, I gotta help.”
She shakes her head at me, but doesn’t argue when I take the platter from her. She’s prepared lobster and crab legs. Seafood dishes appear to be her specialty. We don’t eat much seafood on the farm so it’s a nice change.
Bess usually sends me over with a dessert, and tonight is no different. We’ve finished our main course and are about to have some pecan pie when Bethany jumps out of her chair and runs into the yard.
“Where are you going?” I laugh, following her.
Her hair bounces around her face as she glances back at me. “I saw a firefly.”
Our dessert is forgotten as we race around catching and releasing fireflies.
Chapter Four
“Bethany?”
“I’m in the kitchen. Hurry,” she shouts.
If there wasn’t water spraying out from under the sink, the sight that greeted me as I rushed into her kitchen would have been funnily similar to our first meeting. Legs, long, pale, freckle-kissed legs, one fine ass encased in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and the rest of Bethany’s body disappearing from sight into the cabinet under her kitchen sink.
“I can’t turn it off,” she groans.
I crouch down beside her and tap her thigh. “Let me try.”
She wiggles out, her green t-shirt soaked and molding to her breasts. She squints at me, probably wondering why I’m staring at her and not trying to shut off the water.
I quickly duck my head under the sink and go to turn the shut off valve. It’s stuck, maybe rusted, but with sheer force and a layer of skin off my palm, I get it to turn. I’m breathing heavily by the time I move out from under it. Bethany is standing over me, panting and dripping. I can’t deny under different circumstances, I’d love to be making her pant and drip all over again.
Just thinking of her that way sends blood flowing to my cock. I shift, using my now sore hand as leverage and wince.
Lifting it to inspect the damage, I’m grateful the pain is killing whatever budding erection I was about to sport until Bethany gasps, “Your hand.”
Standing, I wave her off. “It’s not that bad. It’s my own damn fault for not putting on a pair of gloves or using a wrench.”
She ignores my brush off and comes closer, pulling my hand into both of hers, cradling it at she takes a look. She’s so close and is touching me, in a wet shirt. Any pain I’m feeling vanishes as desire returns. Over the past few weeks of getting to know Bethany better, I can’t deny there is something more than a simple attraction going on here.
I like her. Even when she’s trying to do something harebrained to this old farmhouse, it’s fun to just be around her. More often than not, I’ve found myself gravitating toward her farmhouse, a pull I cannot ignore. Even if she’s working, she’ll save her place and offer me a glass of lemonade and her company. In all my unexpected visits, not once has she seemed anything less than happy to see me.
Her call to my cell for help is the reason for my visit today. Even when I’m busy on the farm, a call from her makes me stop whatever I’m doing. Bess notices but hasn’t said anything. She doesn’t have to. She already looks like the cat who ate the canary. When I first met Bethany, I planned to keep any feelings I was developing for her on hold. I’m a farmer. I know a seed takes time and nurturing to take root.
At first, I planned to wait a year to ask her out and I’ve been reevaluating and lowering that time frame mentally every time I see her. Just two days ago, it was down to two mont
hs. Standing here, in this kitchen I helped her repaint a couple of weeks ago, my patience has reached its end. She’s cradling my hand in both of hers. Quietly, flustered since I got hurt, not noticing my other arm snake around her waist until I’ve crushed her body tightly to mine.
Her hands are still between us, one now pressing against my chest, the other protecting my hand. Her wise eyes are more green than brown, her pretty lips forming an O. Gently, I tug my injured hand from hers and slide it up her back and into her damp hair. Any pain I feel is outweighed by how right her skin feels against mine.
I keep my eyes locked on hers as I slowly dip my mouth to hers. This way, I know she knows it’s coming. She has plenty of time to stop me. So close I can almost taste her, my eyes drift to her lips and have just enough time to see the corners tilt up before I claim them. Her hands drift up to wrap around my neck. The dampness of her shirt seeping through mine is nothing compared to her firm breasts rubbing against my chest.
I have no plan in place for this kiss, other than the absolute certainty that I need to put my mouth on hers. Once I have, it becomes another absolute certainty that I need to taste her tongue. When I have, I am absolutely certain I’m not going to stop anytime soon.
She seems as greedy to consume me as I am for her. Her tongue sweeps into my mouth, changing my outlook on patience as she does. Her teeth nip at my lips lighting the spark to my fuse. I only hope, as her hips rock against my very apparent appreciation toward every single thing she is doing, I won’t embarrass myself by blowing a load in my pants. Turning, I lift her and set her onto the counter, my lips never leaving hers.
Stepping between her legs, my hands flex on her waist as her fingers dive into my hair. Bess has been after me for a couple weeks now to trim my hair. I can safely say I may never cut it short again. I’d hate to risk losing the almost painful jolt of pleasure it brings as Bethany tugs it. Her shirt is wet, and clinging to parts of her I’d like to explore. It’d only be polite to remove it, right?
My hands drift under the damp material. Similar to the start of our kiss, I move slowly. I wait for her hands to release my hair and stop my hands and their upward progression. This does not happen; instead, her lips drift from mine to my ear.
She kisses my neck first before her nose ghosts over the shell of my lobe as she whispers, “Do it.”
Verbal confirmation heard and acknowledged, I tug her shirt from her and fling it behind me. It lands somewhere with a slap. My hands reach to cup her breasts. Her swift intake of air as her back arches, pushing them further into my hands, a giant turn on. She inches forward on the counter, hooking her legs around my waist as she grinds against me.
My thumbs massage her nipples through the lace of her mint bra. I drop my mouth to one, sucking her nipple into my mouth through the lace as my hand works the cup down of her other breast. She gasps, her hands once again in my hair as she holds me to her. One of her hands moves downward and slips into my jeans to grip my ass.
All I want to do is love her long and hard until she’s panting my name. With a mouthful of her tit, I’m curious if that’s something she’d like as well. My fingers trace the seam of her bra, all the way to the back closure. I lift my head. Her eyes are closed; her lips parted. When her eyes flutter open and her gaze rests on mine, I unhook her bra.
Our eyes stay locked as my fingers move up to her shoulders and slowly drag the straps down.
“What do you want, Bethany?” I ask, dropping her bra next to us.
She gulps. “You.”
Good answer.
My lips drop to her neck. “And what do you want me to do?”
“Whatever you want.”
Even better answer.
I take her mouth, lifting her as she clings to my shoulders. Her bedroom is on the second floor. I sample her lips, throat and collarbone with each step. I grin against her lips when I see how messy her room is. There are boxes from her move still piled in one corner. Another corner boasts an overflowing laundry basket. Her bed clearly unmade. Instead of annoying me, somehow I find her haphazard mess endearing, or I could simply not care since I plan on burying myself in her.
Depositing her gently onto her sheets, I take a step back to imprint the sight before me permanently. Naked from the waist up, eyes wild with lust, she beckons me. Reaching over my head, I tug my shirt forward and off. She’s seen me shirtless before, but watching her lips part in appreciation, ratchets my desire impossibly higher.
I fumble to take my boots and socks off as quickly as possible as her body writhes with want. My fingertips crawl up her legs until I get to the button of her little jean shorts. Her hands fist the sheets on either side of her as I undress her. Once I’ve rid her of every stitch she wore, I kiss my way up her legs. I focus on and worship each freckle that has tormented my dreams along the way.
Patience is a virtue and I plan to take my time loving Bethany. Her attempts to rush me along are noted and appreciated. There is a time and a place for a fast and hard screw, but seeing as how she’s been an itch I’ve been wanting to scratch these long weeks, I plan to fully see to it. Besides, I’ve never been a halfway kinda guy.
“Just watch, darling. I’m gonna take real good care of you.”
I hold her gaze, her eyes widening and hands fluttering to my head as I taste her. She’s perfect. Every single thing about her in this moment has me more turned on than I think I have ever been before now. With my fingers and my mouth, I take my time drawing pleasure from her. When I’m certain she is completely satisfied, I start my ascent up her body.
Her hands go straight for my jeans, but I almost stop her, wanting today to be only about her, but I’m too weak with want. She pushes me onto my back and then rids me of my jeans and boxers. I’m ready for her, long and hard. My hips buck when her fingertips wrap around my cock. Christ, her touch is heaven, sending a sensory overload through me. I’m a bundle of exposed nerves.
Her eyes land on mine and I watch as her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She doesn’t break our eye contact as she lowers herself to take my cock in her mouth. There’s nothing hotter than her hazel eyes locked on mine as she goes down on me. This feels really good, like winning the lottery or scoring the game winning touchdown.
That’s a guess since I’ve neither won the lottery nor played high school football. Problem is what she’s doing is so freaking amazing; I’m about to come straight down her throat. I’d rather be balls deep in her pretty little pussy though.
“Darling.” I sit up, reaching to lift her and pull her into my arms.
My mouth needs hers. “Shit, Bethany, you are so gorgeous. I want you so bad.”
Her mouth moves against mine as she tries to kiss and speak at the same time. “I want you in me, Beau. Please.”
“I want in you so badly, darling. Do you have any condoms?” I can’t break our kiss either, replying against her mouth, holding her body tightly to mine.
She pulls me with her as she leans right, her hand going for her bedside drawer. Her hand disappears into the drawer once she has it open and she groans, shuffling stuff around. I try not to laugh, but she’s so frustrated it’s cute.
“Let me.” Shifting her off my lap, I move closer to the edge of the bed so I can see inside her drawer. I find her vibrator first and lift it and an eyebrow up at her. She blushes and covers her face so I set it on the top of her table.
“We’re playing with this later.”
Once I find the condoms, I take no time opening one and putting it on. Bethany has turned so her back is to me, hands still covering her face. I crawl over to her and kiss my way up the side of her body, turning her onto her back.
“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I think it’s sexy as hell you can make yourself come. Now, it’s my turn to.” Her mouth drops as her hands fall away from her face. “You know that right, Bethany?”
She shakes her head so I continue, shifting her legs until I’m between them. “Just how sexy I think you are. Hell, you’ve been the re
ason for every cold shower I’ve had to take since I met you. Does that turn you on?”
She nods, her lips still parted. I dip my mouth down to hers as she tilts her hips up to meet my cock. I was wrong earlier when I thought heaven was my cock in her mouth; nope, that wasn’t even close to burying myself between her thighs. She wraps her legs around me and her fingers bite into my scalp. Her lips are the path to my salvation as I pump in and out of her.
“You feel so perfect,” I groan against her lips.
Not moving her lips from mine, she replies, “Oh, God, right there.”
“You tell me what you want.”
“You, don’t stop.”
I can’t stop kissing her and she seems to feel the same way. Neither of us fully stops speaking as we continue to kiss. I tell her how her body is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She tells how me what feels right, don’t stop, there, there, there, harder, yes, yes, oh God yes.
Amazing is only way to describe what being with Bethany feels like. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders as I lift her up and down and then back down onto my shaft. Moving one hand back behind her to brace herself, she twists her hips, grinding against me each time I’m deep inside her.
I lower my head and pull her nipple into my mouth, running my tongue over it before nipping it. She groans, her movements becoming jerky, her body tensing. I repeat my attention on her other nipple and she cries out loudly, her tight core convulsing around my dick. I come hard after that, gripping her slick body tightly in my arms.
I push her backwards, following her and tucking her to my chest. “That was...”
“Incredible,” she finishes, dusting my collarbone with gentle kisses.
“Give me just a moment.” I stand, the heat of her eyes on my bare ass as I cross the hall to her bathroom to dispose of the condom.
She’s waiting for me, all sated and luscious on her bed. I tackle her, grinning as she squeals. “I want to kiss every inch of you.”
She wraps her arms tightly around my neck. “Best house call ever.”
American Honey Page 60