Whitney’s jaw dropped. “That old? Jesus. Place must have a lot of history.”
“Yup. Can’t say I know of it myself. What about you, Whitney? I can’t imagine what kind of background you’ve had. I find my imagination can be rather… limited. Partly why I enjoy opening up the ranch for visitors. I like to listen to stories.”
Whitney rolled her shoulders with a sigh, as they slowed back into a walk. Jack illuminated the path ahead.
“I grew up in a troubled family, I guess. Ma, pa, one set of grandparents – the other set we didn’t have contact with, for reasons my pa never explained. Problem with my ma was she didn’t intend to have me. Oh, she cared for me, don’t get me wrong. But had me when she was young. Pregnant with me when she was fifteen. She needed to do some growing up herself.”
Jack listened in silence, not interrupting as he waited for Whitney to continue.
She wasn’t sure why she bothered talking, and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible, as thinking about it made her uncomfortable. Talking about anything personal didn’t normally come up. She was just used to people not caring, or seeing it as anything worthwhile, especially when they had their own problems to deal with.
“It wasn’t bad, but when pa was injured at work, he needed time off. Couldn’t afford the medical stuff, and mom went into overtime work. Sometimes balancing three jobs at once. Always came home exhausted. Da did what he could at first, but he lost the will, yunno. He got himself to a place he thinks he can’t get out of in his head. Mom had two kids to try and give my da something to do when he didn’t go back to work. Then grandpa died, and grandma couldn’t look after herself alone. So we got grandma in the house. And I stayed to work and help my ma. Cause yunno, she may not have planned for me, but she did everything she could. So it’s the least I can do. I just...” Something hitched in her voice, causing her to blink in surprise. Was she sad?
“Here. Dismount here. There’s a wooden post we can tie the horses to,” Jack said abruptly, his voice low. “If you need me to help you off Graham Cracker…”
“I’ll try myself,” Whitney said, glad for the interruption. Graham Cracker halted with a gentle tug. Nervously, she dismounted, tumbling off awkwardly to the side of the horse – thankfully without getting tangled up in anything. Jack tied the loose reins onto a pole, and the horses instantly started grazing on the lush green grass underneath.
Jack led Whitney a short ways off the trail, his light flashing through the leaves, until it settled on a small wooden lodge. “This is where I once had a treehouse. You can still see the remains of it up there,” Jack beamed light onto a ramshackle collection of twigs on some thick tree branches. “But I had the cabin built as a birthday gift from my grandpa. He made it himself. Took him three months.”
The night chill bit into them. Inside the lodge was just two rooms. The first had a bed which took up most of the space, and a cupboard for snacks, and a small table with a wireless lamp on it. Jack switched the light in the room on. The second room was a toilet, with functioning water facilities. “Generator is on the back of the cabin. All self-contained. My fort.”
With a sigh, he then turned to Whitney as she shut the door. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude and stop the story there. I was just worried you… you were upsetting yourself.”
“It’s okay. Appreciate the thought.” Whitney took off her jacket, draping it on the little chair by the desk. “Think I was affecting myself a bit there. Took me by surprise.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I’m too casual about… my background, you know.”
“It’s okay. I’ve honestly not had it so bad,” Whitney said, attempting to mollify him. “A lot of the kids in the neighborhood had it much worse. My... the things I struggle with is mostly from wishing it could be better for my mom and dad, yunno? Like, they did everything they could despite whatever flaws they had. Even Da, though he lost himself towards the end. Grandma as well, she always used to cook so ma didn’t have to. I just feel they deserve more than what they have. Which is why I do what I can to make it better.”
Jack stepped up to her. “I understand.” A glimmer in his eyes warned Whitney of an impending kiss. She placed a hand on his chest.
“Hang on a second, mister. You getting all close here. Fairly sure you said something about this being forty minutes there and back.”
“I wasn’t lying. I just didn’t mention the time between those forty minutes.”
Struck by a sudden daring, she leaned close to whisper into his ear, “Is that so? And what did you want to do then? Because I seem to recall you mentioning you wanted to taste me again…”
She started unbuttoning her shirt. Jack’s attention twitched to her exposed cleavage. She slapped his hand away as he reached, and grinned. “Wait.”
Jack’s eyes blackened in lust. A tremor went through his body, but he let his hands rest on his hips, letting his gaze do the feasting.
Whitney, with a sly smirk, popped the last button and slid out of her shirt. She took off her boots and pants in the same manner, making it slow and deliberate as she revealed more and more flesh. The band keeping her bun intact loosened during the process, allowing her hair to spring out, wild. Jack hissed in desire. She combed her hair, before unclasping her lacy black bra, the arm restraint rolling onto her palm. His eyes lingered a little too long on her breasts, before going back up to her face.
“Wait,” she purred, finally rocking out of her panties. In the soft light of the room, her shadow stretched across the bed, exaggerating the curves of her body. Her arousal and the cold made her nipples stand to attention. She let her gaze roam over Jack’s sandy-blonde hair, his blue eyes, close-shaved face to his linen clothes, and the noticeable bulge in his pants, straining for release.
She walked backwards, and stood by the bed, moving her legs apart. “I want you to kiss me here,” she commanded, running fingers over her nipples.
Jack’s lips curled upward as he moved to oblige. He bent his mouth to her breasts, and kissed each nipple, before taking them in his mouth, tongue rolling over their hardness. His beard tickled her skin, and Whitney fought to keep a composed face, maintaining her dominant position. Just the dab of his tongue over her nipples alone was enough to send orgasmic echoes in her stomach. She bit back a moan, instead pushing his head away.
“Enough. Now. I want you to kiss me here.” The tip of her fingers trailed over her clit.
She eased onto the bed, shuffling backwards until her head touched the wall.
“As you wish, my lady.” Jack crawled onto the bed and kneeled reverently between her legs, eyes roving from her face to her exposed core. “You’re so wet, already. I see it. Smell it…”
Whitney shivered. Her body was screaming to be touched.
“Kiss me.”
Jack turned his neck to start kissing along her right thigh, leaving a trail of wet kisses that neared towards his ultimate goal. Whitney moaned in anticipation, shutting her eyes so she could follow the feathery touch of his lips. His tongue probed her wetness, running up her slit, finally resting on the little bundle of nerves. The contact instantly made her hips jerk. She held still as he flicked his tongue, letting it play with the nerve point. Up and down. Circular motions. Rapid jabs – all causing her hips to twitch like crazy.
The imperious stance Whitney had adopted, dissolved into a series of moans. The feeling was electrifying, astounding, almost too much. Jack actually needed to clamp her legs down, to stop her from moving and making him lose his spot. Several times, his tongue missed, dampening the rising euphoria, but when it did find the mark, Whitney shrieked in uncontrollable pleasure, hands digging hard into the bed covers, hips struggling against Jack’s hold as he continued flicking gently at her clit, coaxing her body into climax.
Whitney loved it, the powerful mix of feelings bombarding her, all stirred up by Jack. She elicited another moan when he licked her in the perfect place. A lot of the time, it was nice, but some of the time, when he g
ot the right angle, enough pressure – it sent a beautiful jolt of emotion raking out of her stomach. When he hit the right spot several times in a row, the orgasm pushed against her like a dam threatening to break.
“S-stop!” She gasped, bucking against the insurmountable tension. “Don’t let me come yet! Come with me!”
“Awh…” Jack murmured, the word humming into her clit. He stopped, however, just before she reached her climax, stripping off his clothes before plunging on top of her, hips connecting, his penis locking in, where her inner muscles immediately clenched tight.
They gasped together as he swayed into her. The dwindling orgasm flared to life again, stirred by Jack’s proximity, his closeness and the length of him, and Whitney came hard with a spasm, yelling her delight. Jack tumbled into an orgasm mere seconds later, crying out.
Gradually, they extracted themselves into more comfortable positions.
Lying side by side then, Whitney grinned. “So how long this forty minutes in-between gonna take?”
Jack winked. “As long as you want it.”
“Sounds good to me. Though we might need to take the poor horses back at some point.”
“Well. We can continue this over at my cabin instead…” Jack purred. He kept stroking Whitney’s cheek. He didn’t want to stop touching her, and Whitney did the same, letting her palms constantly run over his wonderful, smooth pale skin.
“This is so amazing,” Whitney breathed, now pinching his hand with her fingers, allowing the tips to brush the softer flesh there. “How right this all feels.”
“I know what you mean. It’s like you just came out of nowhere and settled down somewhere in my heart. I can’t get enough of you.” Jack noticed her shiver when he brushed the nape of her neck.
The words thrilled and frightened Whitney at the same time. “That almost sounded romantic.”
“I was aiming for a slight romantic feel, yes.”
“Were you, now…” Whitney stretched out languidly. The admission made her feel off kilter, unsure of her position. On one hand, she wanted to put these encounters in her mind as fun, delightful adventures shared by the two of them.
On the other hand, an impossible thought encroached on her consciousness.
The idea that she might actually be falling in love with someone.
The idea she might have fallen in love from the moment she saw his picture.
Crazy. Crazy.
“What are you thinking, Whitney?” Jack asked, seeing the expression in her face.
She patted his cheek, deciding on honesty. “Some crazy thoughts. Not to try and scare you or anything, but I’m actually wondering if I might be… getting attached to you. Like, love you attached. Though I don’t want to use the word ‘love,’ because that sends a lot of people running away screaming.”
“True. You can use that word around me if you want, though. I’ll use it.” Jack moved his face close.
“Whitney. I might be falling in love with you.”
She grinned. “I might be as well. With you, I mean.”
They both giggled like children.
“Can’t see myself explaining that to my ma, though.”
“And me to my parents. Maybe we should save the public declarations for later,” Jack said.
“Agreed.”
Eventually, they got redressed, and rode the horses back to their respective stables. Jack took off the saddle and reins of each horse, before keeping them in their hay-filled stable rooms for the night. Then, he dragged Whitney to his cabin.
They didn’t sleep for much of the night.
Neither were complaining.
Chapter 8
The phone rang four times, before her mother finally answered.
“Hello, Whitney!”
“Hey, ma. How’s it going, over there?” Whitney, sprawled out on her bed, adjusted the settings to loudspeaker, so she could lay the phone on the side desk.
“Not great, honey. They’ve been cutting hours at my workplace a little too much. Done it again today. So starting to look for a new job. Using your laptop, hope you don’t mind.”
“Obviously not. Why they cutting hours, anyway?”
“Something dumb about work hours being restricted by upper management. So there’s less hours allocated to the staff, yet they have to do the same work as before. I say good luck to that. The boss already had to fire two people as well. I’m not in danger of being fired cos I work too damn hard. But I won’t be making the rent and expenses this month.”
Whitney’s gut twisted. Her mother was in panic mode, when she felt squeezed by the pressure of their low monetary income and having to juggle their home-life in balance. She really wanted to tell her mother more about the ranch, maybe even about Jack, but knew her mother would be too focused on her own issues. “I get holiday pay, Ma, so we’ll make up for it. Don’t worry.”
“I hope so. Your da… him and me had a fight.”
What followed afterwards was the longest, most awkward pause Whitney had ever experienced with her mother.
“Yeah?” She said, when Aniyah refused to break the silence.
“Moment. I’m… I don’t know. Feel funny.” The voice came back, oddly muffled.
Is Ma crying? “Ma, you okay?”
A choked sob answered. “Oh, Whitney. Just don’t know what to do. You were right, yunno. Frederick, he… he tried hard. But he ain’t doing shit nowadays. And the more I listen to him whine and complain, the angrier I get. But I love him. He did so much. But he doesn’t do much now.”
Whitney held her breath in startled amazement.
“I snapped at you because… that was what I’d been thinking all this time. And I felt shame for thinking it. It ain’t your fault, baby girl. I’m sorry for… reacting like that. And just before you went to go. Might had ruined the feel of your holiday doing that.”
The sobs came harder. Whitney, far from feeling the same as her mother, just lay there on the bed, jaw dropped.
Her mother was apologizing. Actually apologizing. She thought Whitney was right. Whitney was so used to being rebuffed or unheard by her mother, that she felt like she’d been slapped in the face.
“Please forgive me, baby girl,” her mother said, practically howling down the phone, “I never meant to let it get this bad. Maybe I should have… pushed him harder, or gotten tough and dropped him if he didn’t step up! But I didn’t!”
“Ma,” Whitney said, recognizing the need to comfort, “It’s okay. You love him, you want him to get better. I do as well! Pa is only depressing himself right now. We need to get him out of that place. Have him work. Have him do something so he feels useful. We can do it. When I get back, we can talk more if you willing.”
“Y-you’ve put up with so much, baby girl!” Her mother wailed, voice shaking, “Did I ever tell you how grateful I am? You could have gone, left, made something of yourself. But you stayed to help m-me… and I just snap at you or ignore you or I’m too b-busy!”
Whitney vigorously rubbed her face. One side of her was happy that her mother was breaking down. She didn’t feel bad about it at all, because she knew her mother needed to see this. They needed to experience this if they wanted to fix the broken knot that was their home. On the other hand, did her mother really have to spring this now? When Whitney wasn’t there in person to deal with it, or motivate her mother whilst she was willing to listen?
Oh, I really, really hope this time, it’s true, Ma.
Gradually, the wailing subsided, as her mother calmed down. She sniffled, blew her nose, then spoke again, in a more steady, less wavering voice. “Sorry, baby girl. So. Uh. How you doing? You rode horses yesterday, right? Did that go well?”
Whitney nibbled on her bottom lip. “Yeah, Ma. Learning a lot. Can actually stay on one without falling off now. Making better friends with one of the girls at work too. Faith.”
“That’s the quiet freak one you talked ‘bout?”
“Ya.” Unconsciously, Whitney mimicked Miles’ accen
t, and stopped herself, grinning, when her mother ask why. “Sorry. There’s two Dutch people who are instructors here. They’re rubbing off on me a bit. Wish you could be here, Ma. It’s amazing. And the one who runs the ranch.”
“He’s the handsome rich one on the web page, right?”
“Yeah. He uh. Ma. He’s been real good to us. Teaches us personally.” Whitney hesitated at the last moment. She made the choice there and then in her head to not tell her mother. Her mother’s impromptu confession took priority. She didn’t want to distract by giving her fuel of a potential love interest. “One of the best times I’ve had in a long while. You would love it here too. Look forward though to telling you all ‘bout it when I get back. Faith will have pictures too. I took a couple – of the big horse I said that liked me. Will send them after the call.”
“Oh, that’s lovely! Oh, I’m so glad you enjoying it. You need to smile more, girl. Carrying too much trouble on those shoulders, and you still so young. You enjoy yourself, baby girl.”
“Of course. And, Ma?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for talking to me ‘bout… that. Didn’t like how we left. Just felt bad, thinking… we wouldn’t be able to smile like we did. Weighed down by everything. I want us to be fixed, yunno?”
Another sniffle. “Yes, yes. Thank you so much, baby girl, for being my daughter. Thank you.”
“Hanging up now before I get too embarrassed. Talk to you later.” Whitney ended the call, even as her mother chirruped a goodbye. A threatening tear built up behind her eyelids.
She listened. She actually listened. Oh hell. One tear made it out, trickling over her cheek. Whitney raised a shaking hand to dab if off.
She stared at her phone for a bit, before thumbing through to the grainy pictures of Graham Cracker, attaching them and sending them off. She also sent the one of Jack and Graham, with Jack grinning like an imp. It felt odd that only last night, she’d been talking to Jack about her fears, about the fact she thought Aniyah refused to see reason. And then… this. A breakdown out of the blue and a gush of appreciation.
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