Page 58 of CowSex
We’ve just left the grocery store. After twenty minutes of debating in the freezing cold on the pavement outside the phone shop, Sheriff Nelson let us all go with a warning to stay away from each other and out of trouble.
Fine by me.
I had no intention of actually going out with Logan Barnes. I just had the feeling that Koa didn’t like him, and when he put his arm around me and got all territorial and possessive, I couldn’t resist fucking with him.
It’s not that Logan isn’t good-looking, he is. In that Swiss ski instructor kind of way. His hair was very blond, his skin very tanned, his eyes very blue, and his teeth over-the-top white. He looked exactly like what Koa described him as, a slimy fucking sleazeball. I’m not an idiot, I knew from the get-go all he had on his pervy, ski instructor mind was ‘snow ploughing’ me.
Still, I didn’t expect things to end up that extreme, with punches being thrown and the police turning up. Again.
“Well, at least I don’t go around asking everyone if they’re all right, what the fuck is that all about?”
“What?”
I finally pull my gaze from the falling snow and look at Koa as he drives.
“‘All right, Logan, I’m Gracie.’” His bad English accent has improved somewhat, but his attempt at mimicking me is still shit.
“Oh, well done, you, you’ve evolved from Bert the chimney sweep to Oliver fucking Twist. Cor blimey, govna, you got a shillin’ to spare?”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
We both fall silent again. He stares at the road, I stare at him.
He had a boner earlier.
Why that thought just randomly popped into my brain, I don’t know, but there it is.
My cheeks burn, and it’s not just because I’ve spent part of the day standing around in Arctic conditions.
Not only did he tell me he was turned on when I lamped Logan, but he also made sure I felt it. All of it. I’d wondered if the size ratio of his body was equal, and I was delighted to note that Koa was perfectly proportioned. Ecstatic, in fact.
This knowledge made shopping in the supermarket a little uncomfortable.
Koa kept walking off in front of me, offering a bird’s eye view of his magnificent arse.
It was almost like a shelf, each cheek high and round. Perfectly defined and separated by the seam of his jeans. I spend most of the time wondering if he had those hollows on either side, right at the top of those thick thighs of his.
The thought of them had me gripping the shopping trolley and hoping he didn’t notice I was walking awkwardly just to gain some friction from the seam of my jeans.
Every aisle we walked down, Koa turned heads. He got second and third glances from not only women but men, too. He even got asked for his autograph and posed for photos three times.
I sort of felt proud. Of what, I didn’t know. We’d been thrown together by chance and there I was, wandering around a supermarket with him, enjoying looking at his arse. He wasn’t mine by any stretch of the imagination. What I was absolutely certain of though, is that you didn’t get a view like that at ASDA!
The thought of him being turned on by anything about me had my belly carrying out a back pike, into a handstand, finishing with a cartwheel, my vagina then giving a squeeze and a curtsy in recognition of my belly’s outstanding performance.
I wasn’t usually the kind of girl who slept with someone after knowing them only a short while; I’d been in a committed five-year relationship with Reggie. We were together about four weeks before we’d had sex, and before him, I’d always followed the three-date rule. I’d never had a one-night stand. And yet, there I was, getting horny, hot, and flustered over Koa Carmichael. A man I’d known only three days.
Nothing could actually come—no pun intended—of these thoughts, because, well, what happened after the fucking? If we were both going to continue living in the cabin, then we had to keep things platonic.
“I didn’t get to finish asking you earlier.”
I turn to him, confused. “About what?”
“Helping me fix up the cabin.”
I’d forgotten all about the conversation we’d started to have earlier about me helping him with the cabin’s interiors. My nosy self had sent the conversation off on a tangent, and we’d ended up discussing his ex-wives and his daughter instead.
