Page 88 of Bucked Hard

“Well, your T-shirt actually covers more of me than my dress, so the nuns would approve.”

Her hands run down the fabric over her belly, and I wonder if she put her panties back on. She pulls gently at the shirt and twists a bit, and I see the way her nipples are poking through the fabric.

It’s dark outside like it’s midnight. The next round of this massive storm is swirling up and ready to do what it will.

But I’m also ready to do asIwill. I’m ready to tear that T-shirt from her tiny body and take her right here on the fucking floor where I took my first steps.

My cock jerks upward, tightness grips the back of my neck, and my hands clench into fists.

A bright flash of lightning illuminates the room for a split second, making her eyes widen with shock and fear. The thunder that follows shakes the floor beneath our feet.

Her arms wrap tight around her waist, and she steps one foot on top of the other, her legs rubbing together.

“It’s okay. Come sit.” I walk over to her and latch an arm around her waist. She doesn’t resist, and it wouldn’t much matter if she did. I’m going to take care of her. In more ways than I’ve ever done before.

She has this mixture of innocence and pure sex. Part of her is shy, but I can see in her eyes there is something else too. Her thoughts aren’t far from my own, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep myself under control.

Another flash of lightning, another rumble of thunder, and she moves toward me, standing next to the sofa.

“Hope the electricity stays on.” She glances up at the bulb burning above her. “It’s like the middle of the night out there.”

“There’s a generator. Last few years when my mom was sick, I had it installed. She was on oxygen, and I never wanted to be without power, just in case. Runs everything in the house.”

“You must have loved her a lot.” She sits and curls her legs beneath her.

I nod. “I did. I miss her every day, just as you must miss your mom, but it gets less painful as the time goes by.”

She nods, her hands moving to tuck the loose bottom of the T-shirt under her thigh. Her skin is smooth, soft, making my fingertips twitch at the thought of tracing over every inch of her. I take a long moment just to drink her in, looking longingly at where my T-shirt pulls tight around her hip and noting no shadow of panties underneath the thin fabric. The only thing between me and what is mine, then, is that shirt.

The thought of touching her is driving me wild. I’m drowning in her and enjoying every moment.

I take a seat across from her on the edge of the coffee table, for now just needing to admire her. To hear her voice. We spend the next couple hours simply talking, finding out about each other, as the storm rolls through. The power goes out, the generator kicks on, and my heart is hers more and more with every passing moment.

She talks a lot about school. About getting her PhD. And I swell with pride like a fucking father. But then she reveals the downside of her plans, that she wants to go back to school again. Seven hours away from here.

No fucking way. But a flash of something hits me. Who am I? Just a farmer. Who am I to keep a girl like her from achieving her dreams? I’m pecking a few layers up the food chain here, and that fact is not lost on me, as much as I’d like to pretend otherwise.

“So, hopefully, I’ll be back at school in the fall,” she adds as she gathers her hair in her hands and pulls it over one shoulder.

“I hope so too. Only, not so far away.” I don’t try to hide my discomfort at the thought of her going back to Bozeman. I’ll follow her if I have to. I’ll drag her back and figure out how to get her what she wants right here, even if I have to build a fucking college myself. No way I’m letting her leave.

She smiles at that, but it’s enigmatic. I can’t tell if she believes me or not.

“You want to check in with your dad?” I hand her my phone, and she dials immediately.

I hear the hum of his deep voice on the other end of the line, and she nods, smiles, says a few words. But I can tell she feels what’s here between us as strongly as I do. As soon as she’s satisfied that he’s safe, she shuts off the call.

“He’s okay.” She hands the phone back, and I set it next to me on the coffee table. “Safely tucked away in our basement. Not comfortable, but not in any danger. He’ll call back in the morning.”

“And what about you?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Are you okay?”

My hard-on is painful. The scent of her swirling around me has me near madness. Knowing she’s naked under my T-shirt makes me feel even more entwined with her.

“Oh, I’m good.” She smiles again, lighting up her eyes as her hands rub her knees. “And what about you, Mr. Stoddard?”

The flirtation in her demeanor, the tone of her voice, the meaning behind her question… It makes me wince.

When her eyes slowly flutter up to meet mine, I know I can’t wait any longer. She bites into her bottom lip, regarding me from under those long lashes, and that is my last straw.

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