by Tessa Teevan
The sound of her ragged breathing is such a turn-on, and I groan, knowing I’m going to be sporting a raging hard-on for the rest of the afternoon. I pull my lips away from her skin, moving back up to press another kiss against her lips.
“Have a nice nap, pretty girl?” I ask, smiling down at her.
With hooded eyes, she nods. “I was having a pretty damn awesome dream, but then someone had to go and wake me up before I could get to the good stuff.”
Propping myself up again on my elbow, I place my other hand on her stomach, feeling the smooth skin underneath my fingers. “Oh yeah? What were you dreaming about?” I ask, my fingers absentmindedly making circles on her skin.
“Well, it was a little like this, but you know…hotter,” she whispers in a sexy drawl, bringing her hand down to cover mine. “I was lying here on the towel just like this when a sexy cowboy joined me. Without saying a word, he leaned in and gave me the most passionate kiss.”
“A sexy cowboy, you say? Interesting. And the kiss? Was it hot?” I ask, swallowing hard when she starts to move my hand lower.
“The hottest damn kiss I’ve ever had. I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. His hands started roaming my body, and I swear, he didn’t leave a single inch untouched except for underneath my bikini. He rested his hand on my stomach, bypassing my breasts. Slowly, he started to move his hand down lower, teasing me when he got to the top of my bikini bottoms. One finger trailed along the hem, and I could barely contain my excitement as I waited for him to slip it under the material, to touch me where no one but me ever has.”
The whole time she’s talking, I can’t tear my eyes away from my hand as I watch her move it just like the guy in her dream. Instead of tracing along the hemline, she brings my hand in between her legs, over the material. My heart’s racing, and my cock is straining against my jeans. I look up at her, needing to see her eyes, to gauge her reaction. Her eyes are fixated on our hands, and she presses hers down into mine, as if she wants me to take control.
“Cheyenne?” I ask huskily, knowing that my voice is laced with desire and hesitation. As much as I want to explore her body, to be the first guy to touch her in her most intimate place, I need to be one hundred percent certain she’s ready for this.
“He was so close, so close to touching me, but then I woke up before I could feel his hands on me, in between my legs. And since it was your fault, city boy, I think you need to make it up to me,” she says softly. “Touch me, Sawyer. Please.”
I swallow hard as her words wash over me. Who the hell am I to say no to her request? I know I don’t have a lot of time, so I don’t protest. Leaning in, I kiss her slowly, wanting to build up to the moment rather than immediately slipping my hand inside her bikini. Our tongues tangle, and she’s greedy, licking and sucking as she tries to get my hand to move.
“Sawyer, don’t make me wait any longer,” she breathes against my lips. She sounds desperate, and I can feel her legs clenching together as she squirms beneath me when I rub her over the thin material.
Slowly, I bring my hand up and tease her along the edge of her hemline, just like her dream cowboy. Her hands come down again, trying to push mine farther down. “Stop rushing it, pretty girl. Just lie back and relax,” I tell her as I slip my hand beneath the material, inching closer to the sweet spot between her legs. I’m greeted with soft curls, and my heart starts racing at the first sign of evidence that I’m about to go where no man has gone before. Holy fuck. The gravity of the situation hits me, and I realize that I have to make sure that this experience—Cheyenne’s first sexual experience—is memorable.
Her eyes close when my forefinger reaches her clit, where I press lightly before rubbing in slow, methodical circles.
“Oh god, Sawyer,” she moans, giving me confidence that she’s enjoying herself. She protests when my finger leaves her clit, but she silences when I slide it up and down her slit, covering it with her wetness. I find her entrance and slowly slip the tip of my finger inside, and she gasps at the contact. Jesus, she’s so incredibly tight, even around my finger. Sliding it back out, I stroke her lips up and down, letting my finger get even wetter.
“God, Cheyenne, you’re so tight,” I groan when I slide my finger back inside her, this time going all the way in.
She doesn’t respond, and I begin to slowly move my finger in and out of her while simultaneously working her clit with my thumb. When I feel like she can handle it, that she’s loosened up even just a little bit, I slip one more finger inside her, stopping to look at her, wanting to make sure that I’m not hurting her. I don’t have much experience with virgins, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin this for her.
Her head’s tilted back and her eyes are closed, but then they open when she realizes I’m no longer moving. “Don’t stop, Sawyer. You feel so good,” she whispers, and I obey.
I have no idea how long I spend working her over. It could be two minutes or two hours. All I know is that time seems to have stopped as I continue to slide my fingers in and out, slowly gaining momentum. I can feel her walls start to tighten even more around my fingers, and I know she’s on the verge of coming. Feeling bold, I take my hand off her clit to move the material from her bikini top to the side. I go back to massaging her clit and lean down to take one small, hard nipple into my mouth. When I bite down gently, her hand comes to my head and her legs start to stiffen. I suck and lick her nipple, desperate to do whatever I can to ensure she has an orgasm. I’m rewarded moments later when she grips my hair, pulling a little harder than usual as she lets out her release. I continue to pump my fingers in and out of her until the waves of her orgasm wash over her almost in the same quick succession of the way the water rolls in with the tide. It’s soft and quiet, slowly becoming more powerful over time, and I love every second of it. Slowly, I pull my wet fingers out and slide my hand out of her bottoms before lifting up from her breast, admiring her perfect breast one last time before covering her back up.
I lean in to place one more kiss on her lips, and I love seeing that she’s flushed, cheeks pink, her eyes slightly glazed over. Taking a quick glance at my watch, I realize that if I don’t get my ass out of here, I’m going to be late. The last thing I want is a Wyatt Worthington ass chewing, but I don’t regret what just happened for a single second.
“I’ve gotta get back, Cheyenne,” I tell her, and she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me back down for a kiss.
“Mmm mmm,” she says against my lips right before I pull away. “Tell Wyatt you’ve got to fulfill a girl’s dreams. No farm work for you today.”
Laughing, I stand and bring her up with me. “As amazing as that sounds, babe, I don’t think I can handle any more dream talk right now,” I tell her, adjusting my cock in my jeans. Her eyes widen when she sees the tent I’m sporting.
“Oh god, Sawyer, I wasn’t thinkin’. Umm, crap. Is that going to hurt? Did I just give you blue balls? Is it going to bother you all day?” she asks, groaning as she fires off questions in rapid succession.
“It’s nothing I can’t take care of later. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You just focus on hanging out here and relaxing the day away by the lake while I’m out baling hay. I’ve gotta keep it up if I’m going to keep these muscles,” I joke, trying to take her mind off my, umm, hard situation.
She grimaces, not able to tear her eyes away from the hard bulge in my jeans. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. I woke up and you were there, kissin’ me, all hot and cowboyish in your jeans and sweaty, dirty cutoff t-shirt and I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been wanting you to touch me like that for weeks,” she admits, surprising the shit out of me. I won’t lie. It’s definitely an ego boost knowing that our late-night making out has been affecting her the same way it has been me.
“I promise you, I’m fine. That is, as long as you don’t regret what just happened,” I say, starting to freak out a little that she was still half asleep when she begged me to touch her.
She leans u
p to place a kiss on my lips. “The only thing I regret is that I waited so long to ask you to do that. It was incredible. So much better than doing it myself. Now I definitely get the hype and can’t wait to see what else you can do, city boy.”
My thoughts zone in on her masturbation insinuation. “Wait a minute. You touching yourself? Jesus, Cheyenne, all the blood is already raging through my dick. Are you trying to kill me?”
She laughs, kissing me once more. “Oops. Sorry about that. I guess I’ll have all day to figure out how to make it up to you tonight,” she says, shooting me a wink.
The thought of her hands on my dick has it pulsing, and I swear, if she doesn’t stop talking, it’s going to take on a mind of its own and tear a hole in my jeans as it tries to disconnect from my body and move in to attack her. See? I’m so fucking hard that I can’t even think straight anymore.
“Babe, you’re killing me here,” I tell her, slowly backing away from her, fearful that if she says anything else I’ll go all caveman on her, throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to the small house across the lake that houses Wyatt’s boating shit. I don’t think Cheyenne plans on losing her virginity in a dusty old boathouse, so I know I have to get out of here.
She slowly saunters towards me, giving me a seductive look as she runs her hands down her body. “Come on, Sawyer. Wouldn’t you much rather be using your hands on me instead of out in the fields?”
I back away from her but she just speeds up, bursting into a sprint and jumping into my arms at the last second, causing me to stumble backwards, almost losing my footing as I catch her. She wraps her legs around my waist at the same time her arms hook around my neck. Looking into my eyes, she gets a serious look on her face.
“So I’ve been thinking,” she says, trailing off when I groan. I know this can’t be good. “Hear me out! Like I said, I’ve been thinking. I’m getting ready to leave for California, to Berkeley of all places. The thought of going out there an inexperienced virgin makes me cringe.”
When she pauses, I look into her eyes, wondering what exactly she’s trying to get at. “Cheyenne, tons of people go to college as virgins. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
She rolls her eyes before continuing. “Sawyer, I was eighteen years old before I even let a guy put his hand in my pants. I’m a little behind here. And I don’t want to be. I’ve decided that I want to have sex with you,” she states matter-of-factly, like she just told me what she wants for dinner or what movie she wants to watch tonight.
The thought of sliding my cock into her tight pussy makes it twitch, and I swear, it’s going to fall off before I even get back to the farm. I swallow hard, not exactly sure what to say. “Umm, I’m honored, but are you sure? I mean, it’s kind of a big deal, not really a decision to take lightly.”
“Okay, can you put away the responsible Sawyer and bring back the guy who had his fingers buried inside me just a few minutes ago?” she requests, and yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m about to be the first male ever naturally castrated by an insane case of blue balls. “Look, I know it sounds sudden, but we’ve gotten pretty close this summer, and I trust you. And you can’t tell me you don’t want it either. I feel your erection every night when you’re pressed up against me. Hell, I can feel it right now. We both want each other. It’s only natural that we give in to it, and since our time is limited, sooner is much better than later.”
I can’t really disagree with her argument, and I don’t have time to discuss the pros and cons of taking her virginity. “Fine. You make a good point, but can we discuss this later? This feels a little bit too much like a business transaction. If we do this, if I take this from you, I don’t want it to seem like a scheduled appointment, okay? Let’s just take it from here and see how things play out.”
She slides out of my arms and starts to walk back towards her towel. I’m about to leave when she turns around to look at me.
“You will sleep with me before this summer is over, Sawyer Callahan,” she says, grinning at me and looking sexy as hell. All I can do is groan and hope Wyatt doesn’t give me too much shit for being late—and having the biggest erection of my life because there’s no hiding it in my jeans. Shaking my head, I can only imagine the horse cock jokes that await me, but the thought of being with Cheyenne is worth every single one, and I can’t fucking wait for her to make good on her promise.
March 2014
CHEYENNE’S BEEN WORKING FOR me for a little over two months, and since that standoff in my office on her first day, we’ve been able to keep our relationship strictly professional. When I came to work the next day, I noticed that the picture frame was gone, and it gave me a little bit of satisfaction to know that she kept it. I’ve tried to talk to her here and there about Berkeley and her years in California, but I usually only get one-word answers, so I stopped asking.
We’re working on a project that has a tight deadline, which has caused us to work long hours at the office, and tonight’s no different. She’s sitting across from me, her legs crossed, and my eyes trail down them to take in the sexy heels on her feet. Every day I’m tortured by her presence, and on days like today, when she wears a tight pencil skirt that perfectly shows off her ass, I can barely keep myself from staring. I’m about two pencil skirt days away from a sexual harassment complaint. Fortunately, I’m not a twenty-year-old horndog and I can control my erections a little more easily.
She’s lost in a stack of paperwork as she goes over the product details. Looking at the clock, I see that it’s already after seven.
“Hey, why don’t we pack it in for the night,” I suggest, and she barely looks up at me. “Cheyenne, it’s Friday night. I’m sure you have better places to be than at work right now.”
Waving me off, she shrugs. “I don’t have any plans for this weekend. I want to finish going over these files so I can start drawing up ideas this weekend,” she says.
Not wanting to be here any longer tonight, I stand up and round the desk, about to pluck the files out of her hands. “Let’s at least take a break and go grab some dinner,” I suggest, silently hoping she’ll agree to go out in public with me, even if it’s under the guise of a business dinner.
She finally puts the files back in their folder and then places it on my desk. Before she can say anything, I hear her stomach rumble. She smiles sheepishly at me.
“I guess I better feed you,” I tell her, standing up, gesturing for her to come with me.
A look of uneasiness crosses her face, but she doesn’t decline. She gathers up her things and I lock the office door behind us.
“It’s just dinner, Cheyenne,” I tell her, hoping to put her at ease. I’m relieved when I see her shoulders relax, and I lead her towards the elevator. “I haven’t been out in downtown Atlanta recently. What sounds good to you?”
Surprising me, she suggests going back to her place. “My roommates went back to California for the weekend, and honestly, after this long week, I want nothing more than to slip into my sweats and order some Chinese takeout. Does that sound okay to you?”
“Sounds perfect, although I’ll be a little overdressed in my suit,” I tease her, and my heart swells when she grins at my comment.
“I might be able to raid Bryan’s closet to find something suitable for you to wear. Suits and veggin’ on the couch don’t exactly go hand in hand though, so you’ll have to make do with whatever I can find.”
“I have no problem with that. Hell, half the time I hang out in my birthday suit, so you know I’m comfortable with anything,” I say jokingly, sighing with relief when she smiles back at me. “I just want to hang out, Cheyenne. To get to know you again. Is that really such a hard pill to swallow? We started out as friends a long time ago, and I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends again. I promise, no funny business. I just want to spend time with you when you don’t have your nose stuck in a sales report or production analysis.”
She seems to consider my words as we ride the elevator in silence. When we g
et to the ground floor, she turns to me. “Oh, what the hell. You’re right. Plus, we’ve been working together just fine. I don’t see any reason why we can’t be friends again. In fact, I’d like that, Sawyer.”
Thank Christ. I was all prepared to beg. Hearing her finally admit that we could be friends is a relief. Does part of me wish we could be more? Hell yes, but I’ll take what I can get for now. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking to get involved romantically with her. I’m not sure my heart could take it, but there’s just something about her. I’m as drawn to her as I was before, and at the end of the day, I can’t get her off my mind. I think I’ve spent more late nights in the office this past month than I have since I started working there.
“Friends it is,” I agree, shooting her a smile that she returns. “Want me to follow you?”
“Sure, but let me write my address down for you just in case. You never know how the crazy Atlanta traffic will be,” she says, pulling a pen out of her purse. “I’ll go ahead and call in an order so I can pick up. Anything specific you want?”
Before I can answer, she hands me her address, and my heart flips like she’s just handed me the winning Powerball lottery ticket. She has no idea what she’s just done by allowing me to find out where she lives. She mentioned once that she lives in Five Points, and while part of me wanted to crack into her employment info, I was able to stop myself. As much as I wanted to know exactly where in the neighborhood she was, I figured breaking tons of ethics guidelines was the wrong way to go about it.
The thing is that I also live in Five Points, and one of my favorite taverns is right in the heart of the neighborhood. I won’t lie; I have found myself going there more often this past month than usual, hoping to possibly catch her out sometime. I know, I know. It sounds creepy and stalkery, but you try going six years without seeing the first girl you ever loved and then having her suddenly show back up again. Seeing her just at work hasn’t been enough, so if I have to resort to stalker-like methods—albeit unsuccessful ones—then that’s what I’ll have to do.