Page 20 of Bucked Hard

My steps toward the dark rear of the truck stay even and steady with her soft steps behind me. I took note of the feed sacks stacked two high and I’m a country boy. That is going to make a comfortable place for me to lay her back while I decide just how far this is going to go. My instincts tell me I need to give her just a taste, not push too hard, no matter how much my dick would like to argue his case and go for the home run.

“What’s his name?” I take my free hand and unhitch the tailgate, settling it down before turning toward her. And for the first time since I got home I take off my ball cap, set it down on the open gate and rake my hand through my shoulder length hair. I only wish I was more presentable.

For her.

Her mouth is agape as I push back the hair that keeps falling forward, my other hand still bound to hers.

“Jimmy,” she mutters, but it sounds more like a question than an answer. “His name’s Jimmy.”

“Uh huh. Well, Jimmy’s a fool for leaving you at that bar all alone. If you were my girlfriend, I’d never let you out of my sight at a place like that. And I sure as shit wouldn’t let you drive home alone. He doesn’t sound like he knows what he’s got.”

I look down to drink her in, the moonlight highlighting just the right spots and I see her tuck her toes together. I love that shy, little girl air about her. It’s not a game either, it’s her and she’s digging farther and farther into me with each moment.

She tugs her lips to the side as I stare down her little white lie. She’s lost her smile and I hate that, so I give her an out.

“There’s no Jimmy. You and I both know it, so I’ll let that one go. Don’t lie to me again.”

“You’re awfully bossy. Who says there will be an ‘again?’”

“I do. I say.” My eyes don’t let hers go for a second. “Just setting the ground rules so in the future you won’t make the same mistake.” I’m as sure we have a future as I am that gravity will hold my feet in place.

My lips turn up as a spark of sass lights those doe brown eyes.

“You say? Were you dropped on your head as a child? I don’t even know your name and you’re talking about a future?” She can’t fight the smile that simmers then explodes in the cool late summer night.

Her dimple is on full display, making my balls quiver like a scared little girl. But no way. If anyone is cumming tonight, it’s her. My greedy ass dick will have to cool his heels; this filly is always going to come first.

“I know I served you ice water all night, but maybe you sipped on your grandad’s jar of white lightnin’ when I wasn’t looking.”

I may be jumping the gun, I get it. What I know about her could fit inside a thimble. I know her first name, I’ve managed to hold her hand, get my fingers on the softest skin I’ve ever felt, but even with so little, it’s so much. I’ve gone from a man who hasn’t given a woman a righteous second glance for far too long, to one that takes a leap from holding a hand to thoughts of carrying her over the threshold and a desire to secure her in my life by any means necessary.

I lower both hands to entwine our fingers. The way her soft skin contrasts with my calloused hands is beautiful.

“I did feel drunk back there, I’ll admit that. And I was drinking something. Only I was using my eyes not my mouth.”

As soon as the words leave my lips, my chest constricts at the thought of my mouth between her legs, drinking her, and I have to swallow hard and let go of her hand.

I drop our hands, grip her waist and feel her press her back toward the open tailgate at my touch. “One, two, three, okay?”

“What?” She crinkles her nose when she says it and I like how she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, but she’s also not pushing mine away.

I nod at the open truck bed and secure my fingers at the nip of her waist.

“Ready? On three.” I nod, dig my fingers into the softness. Her eyes are on mine, looking like the most delicious melted chocolate. “One, two, three.”

She gives this little bunny hop and it makes her as light as a Saturday evening breeze. It takes no effort to lift her, and a moment later I’ve got her where I need her, facing me, ready to lay her back and show her just how I intend to worship her.

She goes to adjust herself, scooting back and tugging at the hem of the soft fabric of her skirt and I move in, pressing my body between her knees.

“There.” I lick my lips trying not to drool. “Now, have you decided how to thank me?”

I can’t help it, my fingers toy with a stray hair that dangles over her forehead. An intensity is growing inside of me that could quickly turn dangerous. I want her in a way that scares me, like I didn’t even know what wanting was before, and I don’t know anything about her, but I intend to have it all.

“Thank you. I said thank you. Do you want some money?” The words come out in a whisper, like she’s not quite sure what’s about to happen. Her eyes teeter between twinkling excitement and more than a healthy hint of fear.

“No. I don’t want money, Dove.” I inch forward, spreading her legs with my hips, and I fucking swear I catch the scent of her pussy on the air and I just about lose my mind.

I want to flip her skirt up and see what’s under there. I’m hoping soft cotton, white maybe with the day of the week embroidered on them. She’s not a thong girl, and that’s only right. Something about her makes me want her to be innocent so I’ll be the first to be here.

---