Page 8 of Christmas in Vines

His cocky smirk was back. “If it does, at least you know I’m good for it.”

Rolling my eyes, I swatted at him. “Go back to dinner; if grub is gone, it's gone.”

Tyler tipped an invisible cowboy hat to me. “Yes, bosslady.”

As he went off, I turned back to finish my work while pretty sure I was still blushing to my ears. Tyler was something else; he was a playboy, that was for sure, but I didn’t get the feeling that he was a sleazy playboy like Maxwell was. He might have gone around the block, but he didn’t take many women around it with him.

Could I take a chance with him? Was it worth it?

Marcus’s words rang in my ear, and as crude as they were… he was right. How could a little casual sex harm anyone?

ChapterThree

Cole

What I was doing with Willow wasn’t right. I knew it wasn’t… but common sense and emotions don’t really see eye-to-eye, do they?

Willow was all shades of sexy, smart and sophisticated, and while I knew this arrangement might go from casual to complicated in the end…why not give it a shot? There was a fifty-fifty chance it might come to something good.

We were both attracted to each other and while the fraternization stuff would be tricky, we could find a way around it. No one had to know about us… if we did become an ‘us.’

Back at the bunkhouse, I ran into two of my housemates, Ford and Luke. Both guys were the opposite of each other, with Ford being heavy set and bald and Luke slender with a man bun. From what I knew, Luke was a staple around here, while Ford was a drifter.

“Hey guys,” I nodded. “What’s up?”

“Wondering if we can get away with hitting the town,” Ford grinned.

“For girls or booze?” I asked.

They looked at each other and simultaneously said, “Both.”

I laughed and tugged my jacket off to drop it over a hook. “I’d avoid getting shit-faced on my second day, guys; if I were you, I’d wait till the second week.”

Luke jabbed an elbow into Ford’s side. “I told ya.”

Laughing, I headed to my room and got ready for a shower. The day had been long but not that eventful; all I’d done was balance on a ladder and pick apples destined to be turned into hard cider. It was so repetitive that my mind had strayed… right back to Willow.

Seeing her earlier that morning at Mister Clarkston’s side had jolted me—what was my luck that I had kissed the boss’s daughter without knowing it? For anyone else, I’d say astronomical, but for me, I should have expected such a twist in my life.

“Willow Clarkston,” I murmured while shedding my shirt. “All this time, I had not known you existed, even while, well, making fun of your family. I have been shown the error of my ways.”

Grabbing my things, I headed to the bathroom and hopped into the shower, scrubbing off a long day’s worth of sweat and dirt. Who knew that manual labor was so… manual. I suspected by the end of the next three weeks, I would gain a greater appreciation for the guys who worked the Vega orchard.

Tipping my head back, I thought of Willow. My veins simmered with arousal. What would she look like naked? Tilting my head back, I amassed the powers of imagination and began to mentally peel her clothes away.

Her body would be a delightful curve over another. Her tits would be high, round and soft, with pink nipples that distended like they were begging to be sucked. She’d had that lovely, perfect hourglass shape; I know because I’d felt her body in our last kiss.

Grasping my hard cock, and with eyes shut, I summoned the fantasy of my licking those nipples and feeling her body writhe under me.

Pleasure spiked in my brain so fiercely I had to slap a hand on the wall to keep myself upright.

Earlier in the evening, when we’d kissed—very risky doing it in the wide-open warehouse where anyone could walk in on us—I had felt her softness and her sweet, supple body. Now, I wanted to trace every inch of it with my tongue. I planned to explore every inch of her body.

Pressure roiled in my head and my groin. God, I just needed to release some of this pent-up frustration and lust; I fisted myself harder.

I wanted to watch her orgasm slam through her as I fucked her with my fingers. I wanted to see her pleasure herself, unleash the passion I wanted to see from her before I sunk inside her sweet body.

I gripped my dick and began to stroke, long and slow at first, and then I focused on the rim as the energy built behind my balls. My orgasm detonated, and cum shot out, covering the walls. And yet, I was stroking my cock like a teenager who had just discovered masturbation for the first time. Finally, completely spent, I tipped my head into the spray and let the water cascade over me.

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