Page 48 of Cabins Cows Critics
“She’s having a sleepover with Cuddles up at the house. I thought we could have some alone time. Tell me about this killer.”
“It was this article I read that gave me the idea for him. Have you seen this thing online about the missing millionaire?”
My stomach sinks, and I release him and turn to busy myself with the plate of strawberries I brought over from the house for us.
“I think I saw something about it,” I reply, trying to sound indifferent when in reality my pulse is racing as my mind contemplates the paths this conversation might take. “You say it helped you come up with your killer?”
“Yeah, there are all these ridiculous posts with people claiming they saw him in some country bar or on a yacht in the Maldives, but there was this one post that claimed he is wanted for questioning in a string of murders, and I thought that would actually be a cool story.”
“So you made your killer a millionaire hiding out on your ranch?”
“No. He’s going to be the mayor’s son.”
“That’s… different,” I say, turning and passing him a strawberry, eating one myself in hopes that the sweet tart berry will help calm my nerves.
“Well, as long as you don’t mind spoilers?”
I shake my head.
“Well,” he continues, taking the strawberry but not actually taking a bite yet because he’s far too excited to eat, and it’s almost impossible for me to focus on anything but his pure elation. “He orders disguises online and dresses like a vagrant, kidnapping and murdering tourists who are passing through the small town. But get this. He’ll bury them in unused sections of farmland.”
“So how does the cop come into the story then? Is he the small-town sheriff?” I ask, loving the way his excitement builds.
“He’s taken on the job, but only because one of the victims got away, and so he took on the post in hopes of uncovering who the killer is. You see, he’s sure it has to be a rancher.”
Hayden bites into the strawberry slowly, purposefully, teasing his lips over it as he closes the distance between us.
“So he gets close to the rancher?” I ask, and he drops the strawberry top onto the plate behind me and slides his fingers up the hem of my shirt.
“He gets very close, so close that he’s not sure he wants to know the truth, because he doesn’t want to give up what he’s found. Thank you for that idea, by the way.”
“He would want the truth, though, wouldn’t he?” I ask, my heart still beating a little fast, but my cock has taken notice as he takes my shirt over my head and kisses along my collarbone.
“I think he’ll want the man he’s fallen for, no matter his past.”
“I’m not sure that’s how the real world works,” I sigh.
“Good thing it’s a work of fiction then.”
“Yes. A work of fiction.”
He pushes up on his toes and kisses me again, his tongue eager, needy, perfect. While there is no truth in his serial killer plot, my secrets are real. I keep reminding myself, he’s only mine for a little while, but somehow his leaving this place to return to his life before me is easier to bear than knowing my secrets sent him away.
“I think you should raise the bed. I have a toy to show you,” he says, stepping back to grab the satchel bag from the floor by the door that I didn’t even see him bring in with him. “If you’re still interested.”
He glances back at me, bent over ass up, and fuck my cock aches for him. I’d give him anything he asked for, I know it. I start turning the crank to raise the bed and reveal the shower beneath.
“I thought I made that clear already, but if not, I’ll say it slowly,” I begin as the bed locks into place against the ceiling, and I unbuckle my belt. “You can have me any which way you want me. I’ll try any toy, any position, anything you want.”
He pulls out a gray silicone tapered dildo and a bottle of lube as I kick off my pants and give my aching cock a slow stroke.
“Turn the shower on and put your hands on the wall,” he commands, and I fucking love it.
Glancing back, I watch him undress quickly before joining me under the water. He repositions the showerhead so that the warm water is cascading over my shoulders, then mostly runs down my sides in a slow stream.
Grabbing me by the hips, he maneuvers my stance backward. I arch my body to be able to keep my hands on the wall as instructed, and now with my ass out, his large hands sweep over my cheeks in circles.
“I’m going to make you beg for my cock,” he says as the cool, slick lube runs down my crease. I gasp, but his fingers are there in a moment to spread it up and down in soft, slow strokes.
