Page 29 of Bucked Hard

The rest of the afternoon I’m buzzing inside and I’m already on my second pair of panties.

How could he be here? This is crazy. Now that I know it’s him, I’m having trouble walking straight.

Aunt Jessie has to scold me twice, my daydreaming making me burn two batches of corn cakes she wanted to make to contribute to tonight’s dinner.

“Rachel! What is the matter with you?”

“Sorry, Jessie. I’m not myself today.”

I pull the heavy black pan off the top of the stove and scrape the blackened corn cake stuck to the bottom into the trash. It’s half past five and Vanessa’s already outside getting the fire going and the kids are running around in the garden.

My mind plays out a hundred different versions of the night in front of us. Chad sits next to me, letting his leg touch mine. No, not his leg, his arm brushing against me as he asks me to take a walk with him. Then maybe…

Stop it. NO way. It’s not going to happen. Look at him! He’s a sculpted cowboy God. Guys like that are not into fluffy, plain girls who like to daydream and talk to themselves.

Well, but he was pretty far into me last night.

Stop.

Eventually, I manage to get a couple batches of corn cakes done without burning them. When that’s done, I head upstairs to my room and lay out some clean clothes.

“Jessie! I’m getting in the shower!”

We have to give each other a heads up when we are using the hot water. There’s nothing quite like a blast of freezing cold water when you’re in the shower and someone else decides to use the hot tap.

“Ok, honey.” Her voice trails up from the kitchen.

I close the bathroom door. My belly tightens and a little vibration starts between my legs.

Happy birthday to me.

“Sure, let’s go.” I’m talking out loud to myself like I’m talking to him. “In the shower? Why not?”

Stripping my clothes off feels good. It’s a hot day out there, and they’re stuck with sweat. I step into the shower and let the warm water run down my back, over my full breasts, the curves of my body.

I imagine walking with him, his hand brushing against mine. As I lather soap suds over my belly I think of him grabbing my waist, pulling me close in an urgent kiss. His rough, strong hand pushing up against the back to my neck, tangling in strands of my hair. I imagine what his mouth tastes like as it moves against mine. Tangy, salty, like grit and prime beef. His hands cupping my breasts as his lips move down my body.

In my head, he’s a character out of a romance novel. I have stacks of them in my closet and under my bed, and they’ve taught me a thing or two about single-handed reading.

My thighs are tight as my fingers delve into the hot pink slit between my legs. I press hard, rubbing back and forth, letting the hot water cascade over my shoulders and down my back. My fingers are Chad’s fingers, working inside me while his mouth kisses my breasts. My hands fumble against his pants, working the strained zipper.

Sounds escape my lips. I drive my fingers hard and deep, feel the surging release building as I moan and gasp into the warm water. The hard, swollen nub of my clit sends lightning bolts through my body as my fingers drive inside my wet canal, and I imagine it’s Chad’s huge cock entering me, pressing into me for the first time.

I close my eyes and see his face, his mouth open, his eyes focused on me, and only me.

I spasm and quiver as my fingers complete the job, my free hand darting out to steady me against the wall of the shower, shuddering until the waves of pleasure subside.

Panting, I arch my neck letting my head fall back into the shower spray, the water tingles against my tightened nipples.

When I step out of the shower I can hear talking and laughing from outside. The smell of burning wood drifts into the house, carrying with it the intoxicating scents of Vanessa’s cooking: grilled vegetables, beans, chicken and sautéed onions.

My mouth is already watering as I turn the doorknob to my room and hesitate. I can feel the tension growing, the edge of something about to happen. I’m just not sure what it is yet.

I blow out a breath. “Come on, Rachel.”

Whatever’s about to happen, I need to see it through.

Moving through the house, the smells just get stronger, and when I step out the back door the fire is high and bright against the pink and orange sky over the corn field. Enrique stands behind Vanessa, his hands on her shoulders, her fingers settled on top.

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