by Susana Mohel
Before I can respond, Joel’s striding off, leaving me alone, confused and very frustrated since he never actually got me off.
When he slams the door behind him, I wonder if I’ve made a huge mistake. What in the hell kind of mess have I gotten myself into?
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Twelve years previously…
Now that Joel’s actually here, I suddenly feel shy and can hardly look at him, so I stare down at the floor instead.
We’ve been secretly meeting in a disused room, tucked away at the back of the staff quarters that Joel somehow managed to obtain the key for—I didn’t ask how. It’s been great as nobody ever comes here, plus it’s a fair distance from the main house.
Joel pretty much has the run of the ranch now since he’s proved himself to be very reliable and ultra-hardworking. No one has any idea that we’ve been meeting up as often as we can since that day I found him sitting by the pond. We’re crazy about each other, can barely keep our hands off each other, and things have progressed to the point where we’re ready to take things to the next stage. We’re being responsible though. I’ve gotten myself on the pill, for health reasons as far as my mother is concerned, as naturally she has no clue about my real motive.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I confess shyly.
“Trust me, there’s no other place I’d rather be,” Joel replies, lifting my chin with his fingertip so I have to look him in the eye. Dear lord, how handsome he is, and I adore the cute way his luminous amber eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles at me.
My Joel.
“No need to be scared, babe. I don’t ever want to see fear in those beautiful eyes of yours,” he murmurs, as his hot, wet tongue runs up and down my ear… slowly, very slowly. “Desire, yes, but never fear. If you don’t want anything to happen, then nothing will happen.”
“That’s really sweet, but I want this. So much.” I bite my lip in anticipation of what’s to come. Sure, I’m a bit nervous, what girl isn’t about her first time? But I have no doubt about taking things to the next level. I’ve dreamt of virtually nothing else since we met.
He catches the lip I was worrying between his teeth. Something burns in the depths of my soul, deep, unexplainable emotions—I can’t put into words what he does to me, he just makes me feel everything a thousand times more intensely.
Before I lose my nerve, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him. A kiss to let him know that I’m surrendering my heart and everything else that I have to him, entrusting him with the most precious gift I have to offer.
Very soon, kissing isn’t enough, and my body is trembling. Not with fear but with need.
Joel takes his time undressing me, savoring the experience, discovering every inch of my exposed skin. Setting my senses on fire with his fingers, his lips, and his tongue.
Oh, my God.
What will it be like having him naked in my arms? I’ve wanted him, longed for him for what seems like forever. But I feel out of my depth. This is all new, and I’m so inexperienced, what if I ruin things?
“I’m not sure what to do,” I blurt out. “What should I do, Joel? Tell me, please.”
Joel pauses, concern etching his lovely face as he studies me.
“Whatever will please you, make you happy, Tara, because you make me happy just by existing,” he answers, sincerity shining in his eyes. He’s looking down at me with such tenderness that my heart skips a beat. Right now, this man is the epicenter of my universe, and I’d do anything to make him happy.
“I want to touch you, to please you.” I’m curious, eager to explore, so I tentatively run my hand over the large protrusion in his pants.
“Honey, if you keep touching me that way, this is going to be over far too soon and I have all kind of plans for tonight,” Joel groans, as he moves my hand away.
Then words are forgotten as he kisses me, our bodies communicating with touch rather than words.
As we lie together on the narrow bed, my breathing is shallow, and I’m giddy with anticipation.
I marvel at the sight of his smooth skin alongside mine, golden freckles dusting his broad shoulders. It’s as if he’s shielding me, guarding and protecting me from the world. Always in control, he uses his skilled fingers on me until I’m desperate for him, knowing that tonight we’re not going to stop.
“Joel!” I cry out when his body finally invades mine. It’s a mixture of pain and ecstasy, but he stills and gently murmurs sweet words in my ear, calming me, comforting me. The pain is soon replaced with pure pleasure as we meld together, until I’m no longer sure where I end and he begins.
Him. Me. Us. Together.
A wave of incredible pleasure surges through me from head to toe, my body contracting around him as I experience my first orgasm with him this way. I cling to him, crying out his name, wanting us to stay locked together like this forever.
He calls out my name as he too reaches his peak, a look of ecstasy on his face as he rides it out, before eventually collapsing on me. His presence is all-encompassing as he lies on top of me, trapping me beneath him, completely and utterly possessing me.
And I love it.
“You’re mine now,” he murmurs, continuing to gently move inside me as he slowly comes down from his climax.
“Yes, yours,” I drowsily agree, drunk on bliss. Yes. I am his, and he is mine. My first time. No one else can ever have my virginity, that was my gift to him. I have no regrets, I wouldn’t have done anything differently. This was perfect.
Holding me tightly, he turns us so that I can lay on his chest.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” I whisper, running my hand over his chest, and toying with his dark brown nipples.
His laugh reverberates in his chest, feeling weird but also nice as I rest my head on him. I’m not used to this kind of close physical contact. Growing up, my mother rarely showed any kind of physical affection, so I’ve not experienced this kind of closeness with another human being before. Maybe that’s why it’s having such an impact on me.
“Much as I’d like to, you know we can’t stay like this. It won’t be long before someone’s going to come looking for you.”
I sigh. Joel’s right. I have to get back. If anyone were to find us, the consequences for him would be devastating. He’d be fired, and lose everything he’s worked so hard for. Just being here with me is a huge risk for him, so for his sake if not mine, I have to go back and act as if I haven’t just had the most wonderful, earth-shattering experience of my life.
After our first time, there were many more secret trysts. They were what I lived for. My mother remained oblivious to what was going on under her nose, just thankful I wasn’t bothering her, while Joel made sure he always completed all his duties satisfactorily and didn’t draw any kind of negative attention.
I loved seeing him every day, and I took every opportunity I could to secretly watch him riding out on his horse, in those jeans and with that hat. Yep, my Joel was the whole package alright.
I was one lucky girl- the way he looked at me, the way he smiled at me and only me. My whole world orbited around him. And I was thrilled that it was the same for him. He really loved me, I knew it, I felt it.
I could swear it.
Fucking memories.
Fucking Joel.
I’m totally fucked.
And not in the way I want.
Funny how life turns out, isn’t it?
Mine was never the same after Joel left.
I went through the motions, but life had lost its meaning. I just existed, living a quiet, almost reclusive life, doing my best to forget him, resigning myself to never seeing the love of my life again.
But it turned out life wasn’t done being a bitch to me yet, and when my world turned upside-down again, I was left with little choice but to go to the very man I’d spent years avoiding.
Because in spite of everything, when the chips were down, whatever had passed between us, I believed I could still count on
Joel to save Redlands.
Damn life, ignoring my shattered heart.
And that’s the sad story of how I’ve ended up where I am today. Married to Joel, but with a massive ocean between us.
Getting to sleep in my comfy old bed is not usually a problem—sleep has always been my ally, providing me with an escape from reality. Even though my condition has me totally exhausted, tonight the familiar pale-colored walls and soft sheets aren’t working their usual magic.
Try as I might, I can’t escape the memories. Some happy. Others not so much.
I close my eyes, trying to leave all my ghosts and demons behind.
The curtains flutter in the breeze from the open window. Fresh air that smells of rain, evoking memories of warm summer nights, the kind I’ve always loved.
And yet I’m desperately cold, the bone-chilling kind of cold that freezes your very soul. It comes from the bleak desperation of wanting someone so badly, and even though they’ve rejected you, hurt you, tossed you aside, none of that makes any difference to the longing and the loneliness.
Joel might be here at Redlands, but I can’t have him in the way that I want. It’s an impossible situation I’ve gotten myself into. My only consolation is that thanks to my circumstances, it’ll be short-lived. I won’t be able to conceal things much longer, and then it’ll all be over in any case.
I have to keep reminding myself of why I sought Joel out and begged for his help.
Because it made good business sense for the ranch. Because I know Joel’s the only one who can save Redlands.
But what about me? Did it make good sense for me?
The first light of dawn is creeping through my window when sleep finally comes, allowing me to escape from reality for a while, just as long as Joel doesn’t slip into my dreams again.
But there’s to be no escape, since his callous voice jolts me awake after what seems like mere seconds.
“Wakey wakey. Come on lazy bones, time to get up.”
I groan and bury my head in the pillow, feeling like death warmed up.
“Stir yourself, Tara,” Joel continues, “Or you’ll be drenched in cold water, and that’ll wake you up pretty damn quick.”
My stomach lurches in protest as I try to comply with his orders and sit up. Recently, I’ve not been so good in the morning, but the doctor says it’s to be expected in my condition.
“You wouldn’t,” I protest, as I slowly roll over in bed, waiting for the waves of nausea to pass before attempting to get out of bed again.
“Want to bet?” He raises a challenging eyebrow as he folds his arms and rests his shoulder against the door frame. “I wouldn’t put it to the test if I were you, honey.”
I glare at him and he has the nerve to laugh. To laugh right in my face. Damn him.
And why the hell does he have to look so good this early? So unfair when I’m sure I look like shit.
Mumbling some not so lady-like words, I finally manage to struggle up and head to the bathroom, closing the door with a mighty slam to convey my displeasure, which only makes my headache worse.
Joel laughs at my little display of temper. “Oh, and Tara? Meant to say don’t bother getting yourself all glammed up. Won’t be necessary for what I have planned for you today.”
“I wouldn’t waste the effort anyway,” I snarl in response, muttering some more very unladylike choice words about how he should just go fuck himself.
“What’s this all about?” I indicate the array of tools set out in front of us. Having been dragged out of bed at this ridiculously early hour after virtually no sleep, I’m in no mood for puzzles or guessing games.
We’re standing outside the house. As ordered, I’ve not bothered with my appearance—I didn’t have the time, inclination or energy anyway. So here I am, in old jeans and a tatty t-shirt, with no clue as to what the hell Joel is playing at.
There are paint cans, an assortment of brushes and rollers, plus a tall aluminum ladder propped against the wall.
“Well, Tara, as I recall, you said something about wanting the ranch restored to its original glory. That’s why you came to me, right?” Joel states. “But if you think the only one who’s getting their hands dirty around here is me, then you’ve got another think coming.
“I never assumed that,” I protest.
“Great, glad to hear you’re intending to pull your weight and not just rely on me. So, to prove you’re serious, I want you to paint the outside of the house. And since I won’t tolerate half measures or sloppy work, I’ve provided you with all the necessary supplies and equipment.”
I look up at the house. It looks dauntingly large from this angle. Intimidating even. It’s a white wood paneling building, surrounded on three sides by a large two-story porch. On the fourth side, there’s a full height red brick feature chimney.
“The whole thing? By myself?” I ask incredulously, shaking my head in disbelief. I don’t mind helping out, but this is something else entirely. “I can’t possibly do it on my own, Joel. When my father was alive, he used a specialist maintenance company to carry out this kind of work, and they used to send in a team of several men, and even they took a couple of weeks to complete the job.”
“He may well have done, but that was then, and this is now. The coffers are empty and we can’t afford to bring anyone in,” Joel insists firmly.
“What about some of the ranch hands? Surely a couple of them could be spared to help out for a few days?” I plead.
“Nope, no can do. I’ve been through the accounts several times, and there’s no way round the fact that the current payroll is unsustainable. The ranch is overstaffed anyway, so first priority has to be cutting the dross. Should have been done a long time ago but seems no one had the guts to deal with all the hangers-on and deadweights you’ve accumulated around here. So, that’s what I’ll be dealing with while you’re getting on with the painting. And that means there’ll be no one to help you, honey.”
The sickly-sweet way he uses that term of endearment irritates the hell out of me.
This has to be a joke. When I asked Joel to manage Redlands, I didn’t expect him to start all this house maintenance and decorating practically as soon as we moved in. Sure, I thought we’d get around to it eventually, but I realize with a sinking heart that this is Joel’s way of proving that he’s the one laying down the law, that the roles are reversed. He’s no longer the hired help, and I’m no long the lady of the manor. He calls the shots, and I have no choice but to go along with whatever he dictates.
Although to be fair, on closer inspection, I can’t dispute that the house is in a pretty bad way. Lord knows the state of the roof, but I don’t raise that point in case Joel suggests I tackle that too.
None of which changes the fact that I’ve never done anything like this in my life before, even if I am willing to put in my share of hard work, at least, as far as I’m able in my current state of health.
“But I have no idea how to do any of this,” I say, waving my arms at this big old house I’m somehow expected to transform. “And I don’t see a magic wand, unless you’ve got one hidden up your sleeve.”
“No magic wand, so I suggest you look on this as a golden opportunity to expand your skills and prove yourself,” he replies. “Use your initiative. Google it. Search YouTube. But you’d better learn fast as you need to get this finished by the end of the week seeing as I’ve plenty more jobs lined up for you.”
I gape in disbelief at him. Words fail me. Is he serious?
“I’ll leave you to it then. See you at dinner. Oh, by the way, honey, I’ve already fired the cook, so don’t be expecting the hired help to have dinner ready and waiting. If you can’t fix something at least half way decent, I suggest you Google that too.”
With a cheeky grin and a wave, Joel walks away, heading toward the staff living quarters, leaving me seething with anger.
“And don’t even think about poisoning me, cause we’ll be sharing the same food,” he calls over his sho
ulder. “Be sure and have a good day now, darlin’.”
Poison? He must have read my mind…
“You’re an animal, Joel Sadger!” I yell after him.
“That’s why you married me, isn’t it?” he calls back, making stupid donkey braying noises as he walks away.
I’m left clenching my fists in anger, confusion, and bewilderment in equal measures, wondering how the hell I’m going to deal with this impossible situation I’ve somehow gotten myself into.
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Thank the Lord for the wonder of Google.
I could kiss my phone when the search results appear, as it turns out there are plenty of folk willing to create free tutorials and share their expertise on just about any topic you can come up with and then some.
Knowing I’m in way over my head, I don’t rush to get started until I’ve spent some time carefully researching every aspect of my task—prepping the wood, mixing the paint, protecting surfaces that aren’t being painted—all kinds of fascinating topics.
One tutorial advises that roof repairs should always be tackled before, rather than after painting the house, to avoid damaging newly painted surfaces. That makes perfect sense to me, so it begs the question as to why the ever-practical Mr. Sadger is making me paint the house first?
Hmm. I suspect he thinks it doesn’t really matter, since he’s not expecting me to complete the task anyway, but that he’s deliberately setting me up to fail, to prove a point—that I’m a pathetic and useless creature compared to him.
Well, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction, however exhausted and ill I’m feeling right now. I do still have a modicum of self-respect, I do have a backbone, and I’m damn well going to prove him wrong.
I’ll challenge him at supper tonight, point out that it would have been logical to tackle the roof first. And I don’t care if questioning him pisses him off, because bottom line, it’s still my house.