I’m a woman now.

He has no reason to say no.

Unless…he doesn’t want me.

Worry over that possibility has me chewing on my lip as Miles passes, on his way to the front door. Everyone has gone back to their jovial conversations, but I keep tabs on Miles during his journey to the door. Just before he exits, he pauses. Hesitates. Then he takes a small box out of his pocket and leaves it on the entry table, flicking a glance back at me over his shoulder.

I’m breathless by the time the door closes behind him, desperately trying to appear nonchalant on my way to retrieve the box.

Thank goodness for the alcohol because no one seems to notice when I escape to my bedroom with the box, tearing the paper off and ripping open the tiny lid. And there, nestled in cotton is a necklace.

Not just any necklace, though.

A choker.

The band is simple, thick black ribbon, the two sides connected with a ruby red heart, right in the center. Something about the design, the fact that it’s a necklace meant to be worn tight, gives me the urge to tug down my panties and pet myself between the legs. I want to put the choker in my mouth and let it muffle my moans of Miles’s name. I’m so hot. So wet. I’m burning.

It takes all of my willpower not to touch myself, but to wait.

Wait for him.

This gift has to be a sign that he’ll welcome me tonight, right?

Not too much longer and I’ll know for sure.

2

Miles

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Those are the same six words I say to myself every night when I walk in the door to my bunkhouse—and goddamn, are they true.

I had no right to give Cassie that piece of jewelry tonight. Had no right to study the curve of her throat while her father spoke to me.

Trusted me.

The man should not trust me.

My thoughts are depraved and wicked when it comes to his daughter and they flame to life now, urging me to take my cell phone out of my back pocket. I open the photo library and find the one from earlier tonight. Cassie sitting on the kitchen counter in her party dress, her thighs open just enough to show off her pink panties, her head thrown back with laughter.

“Fuck.” I mash the screen against my mouth, growling in pain as my cock swells to life in my jeans. “FUCK!”

I should delete it. I should delete it now.

I absolutely should not lay the device down on my pillow and fuck my own hand while imagining it’s her innocent pussy locked around my dick.

Knowing it’s only a matter of time before I give in and jack myself into oblivion, I nonetheless make an attempt to be civilized, throwing my phone with a clatter across the kitchen table. Immediately, I miss Cassie’s image. Miss her, period. “You’re old enough to be her father, you sick prick,” I growl, starting to pace.

Fine, that’s a stretch.

I’m thirty-six, so I’d be a pretty young father, but that is exactly double her age and there is no excuse for the lust she stirs in me. None. Especially considering how long I’ve known the girl. She did quite a lot of growing up before I started noticing she’d changed into a woman, but when I noticed, I noticed hard—and there’s no escaping this obsession now.

She occupies my mind every minute of the day.

Every morning, I start fresh, swearing I’m going to stay away from her, but I break the vow within an hour. I’ll be taking stock of cattle and suddenly, there’s Cassie, running toward me in slow motion with her braless tits spilling out of her flimsy tank top, her eyes shining with youth and excitement.

Can I ride, Miles?

I might be well aware she’s referring to riding a horse, but every morning, it takes every ounce of my control not to drag her into the barn and teach her how to ride a man, instead. This man. Her man.

You are not her man. You can’t be.

Cassie’s father is my oldest friend. The employer who trusts me.

I cannot fuck his eighteen-year-old daughter.

It would be the ultimate betrayal of trust and I value my honor.

I treasure the trust I’ve been given by him, to run his farm, protect his beautiful daughter and keep his mind at ease.

Still.

My eyes tick to the cell phone across the room where Cassie’s picture still lights up the screen. I’m kidding myself if I think I’ll ever make it through tonight without blowing my usual load, pretending it’s the one that’ll get Cassie pregnant with my child. I have to do it. My throbbing cock gives me no choice.

On my way to grab the phone and bring it to bed, there’s a knock at the door and I stiffen. “Who’s there?”


Tags: Jessa Kane Erotic
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