A long pause ticks by. “It’s me. Cassie.”
My loins grow heavy, tight. What the hell is she doing here? I’ve never allowed her inside my bunkhouse—for good reason—and she’s never tried to come in, especially after dark. Especially after I’ve had a couple of beers that could impair my judgment. “You shouldn’t be here, Cassie. Get on home.”
“I-I’m eighteen now, Miles,” she stammers, hurting my heart. “I can be wherever I choose.”
Unable to help myself, I move toward the door, laying my forehead on the coarse wood. “Yes, but it isn’t a good idea.”
Because I want too badly to see what my cock looks like sinking into your pretty mouth. And I’m just buzzed enough to find out. The fact that I haven’t been with a woman since I started working on this farm isn’t helping matters. I’m horny, hard up, aching. My body wants relief, but it only wants it from Cassie.
“Why isn’t it a good idea?” she prompts again, through the door.
“You think your daddy would want you in here with me, girl? Alone and after dark? It’s not appropriate.”
“Nobody has to know,” she murmurs. “Don’t you want to see what the necklace looks like on me?”
Yes, angel. Fuck yes I do.
I know I shouldn’t have given her something so personal, so symbolic, but I burn to see Cassie in something I paid for. Something I chose. It’s a fantasy of mine to have total control of Cassie’s clothes. To make her plans and reward her for executing them like a good girl. When I saw the choker, I almost went insane with the need to wrap it around her neck. Tie it tight. Let everyone know she’s mine.
She’s not. She can’t be.
“Go home, Cassie—”
“Miles…” Her voice trembles and I’m instantly on alert. “I-I think there’s a coyote out here—”
The door is unlocked and opened instantly. Heart hammering, I pull her into my arms and turn her protectively, scanning the dark for a predator that would dare to put her in danger. Of course, there is none.
I kick the door shut and turn to face my too-young, too-beautiful obsession.
Cassie gasps, but she’s still smiling. “You can’t call me names on my birthday.”
“Oh, now she wants to follow rules?”
Sexual frustration gives my voice a harder edge than intended and her face falls a little, making me want to kick myself. “Don’t be mad at me, Miles. Please?”
“I don’t know how to be mad at you.”
“I know,” she says softly.
When there was a possibility she might be in danger, I was distracted. But that distraction fades fast in her presence, and for the first time, I see what she’s wearing. An oversized coat, no shoes…and the choker I gave her.
My cock was already stiff when she arrived but it stretches the denim of my jeans now and I turn away quickly and pour myself a glass of whiskey, hoping she didn’t notice the state I’m in. The same state I’m in frequently throughout the day, causing me to jerk off in dark corners of the barn, behind the bunk house, out in the field. This girl has me fucking my hand five times a day and I need that relief now.
“You need to go, Cassie. Now.”
“I love the necklace. There’s something about it…” I can feel the heat of her breath in the middle of my back and I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from moaning. “Wearing it makes me feel like we have a secret.”
“We don’t,” I growl, slamming down my drink. “Don’t read anything into it.”
“What about the way you watch me? Or when boys come knocking on the door and you put the fear of God in them? Should I read anything into that?”
“No,” I rasp. “Of course I’m protective. I think of you as a…”
Moments slip by. “You can’t say it. Because you don’t think of me as a daughter. You never have.” Her palm skims up the center of my back. “Do you, Miles?”
If she keeps touching me, I have no idea what I’ll do. I’ve hugged her before and that almost killed me. Tonight is different. Tonight her touch has intent. She wants something—and I’m still in disbelief that something is me. Has she felt like this long? Or is she just confused by her eighteen-year-old hormones. “What did you come here for?”
She’s silent so long, I have no choice but to turn slightly and her expression makes my heart lurch. She’s nervous, trying to gather her courage. I should tell the girl she’s on a fool’s mission and send her home, but I can only hold my breath and watch like a perverted old man as she opens the jacket and lets it fall to the ground, leaving her totally, breathtakingly naked.
“Cassie,” I choke out, semen rifling from the head of my erection. Ah, sweet motherfucker. I fist the spasming flesh through my jeans, squeezing until the pain halts my flow of pleasure. It fires right back through, as soon as I let go, my mouth turning as dry as dust. How? How can she be so perfect? How can she be better than my fantasies?