Page 18 of Beauden & Yelena

Beauden’s hand guides mine to the udder. As if only talking to me, he gets closer to my ear then continues. “Begin milking by squeezing with your thumb and first finger as high up as possible on the udder. Trap the milk with those fingers.” He squeezes my hands around the udder. “Now, squeeze the remaining fingers while continuing to trap the milk.”

As he talks, he guides me through the process and milk squirts into my bucket. A rush of excitement hits me. “It’s milk!” I exclaim like a kid and he releases a deep chuckle that rumbles through my body and soul. The others are talking too but I don’t hear or see them. It’s all about him and me.

His hand is still on mine and we continue to trap and squeeze, getting more and more milk. “You’re good at this.”

“I have a great teacher.”

Actually, he’s really doing all of the work; my hand is totally guided by his big one. I turn to face him. That sexy smile he first revealed over breakfast is on his handsome face and I swoon.I actually swoon.

Lost in his smile, his sexy dark eyes, and his commanding energy, I’m oblivious to the fact that my cow is upset. In a flash, it jerks, moos loudly, then kicks back her front leg. It all happens fast as hell. I feel a thick warm substance splash on my face and I scream. My cow kicked my bucket and the milk is all over me.

“Shit,” I scream and jump. Then, to make matters worse, my stool gives way and I fall on my ass. “What the hell!” I sigh. “Seriously!” I’m covered in milk, lying on a barn floor, mortified in front of this fine man and my coworkers.

He rushes to me and scoops my milk-drenched body into his. While my coworkers express their concerns, again, I only hear him. “Are you okay?” he asks with so much concern.

“No.” Physically, I’m okay, just dirty, wet, and sticky. The only thing bruised is my ego. Therefore, I’m not fine.

“Mitch, take over for me. I’m going to take her back to the lodge,” Beauden says, then leads me out of the barn. When we make it outside, he releases me then runs his hands down my body. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Just embarrassed and in need of a shower.”

“Don’t sweat this. Shit happens. As long as you’re good.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bandana. He gently tries to wipe the milk off of my face. The gentleness this big strong man displays is everything.

After placing my hand over his, I say, “Thanks.” I grab the bandana and take over.I really need a shower.

“Let’s get you back,” he says. Beauden motions to a four-wheeler parked next to the Sprinter. We walk over and he helps me on then sits in front of me. When he’s secure, I wrap my arms around his waist and we take off.

The route seems a little different and he pushes through the snow faster than the big van. We make it to the lodge in less time than it took the Sprinter. He parks in the back and we enter discreetly through an entrance unknown to me then head to my room.

When we reach my door, I feel compelled to make a request. “Stay,” I utter.

“I wasn’t leaving,” he asserts and the bass in his voice travels down my body and lands between my legs.

Anxious as hell, I pull my key out of my pocket and press it on the pad. When it turns green, he reaches from behind me and opens the door. While walking in, I feel my nerves tingle just under my skin. Him with me, him on me, and him in me are all I can think about.

We enter and he removes his hat, placing it on the small console table while I remove my coat and scarf. When I walk over to my bed, he follows. I ease on it then cross my left leg over my right knee to remove my boots.

Without saying a word, he reaches down then pulls it off. Thankful for the assistance, I uncross my legs then extend my right one to him. He gladly removes that one too. Then, he extends his arm to me and pulls me off of the bed, right into his chest. While holding me possessively, he somehow manages to step out of his boots.

Is he going in…

My thoughts are interrupted and answered when he looks into my eyes and asks, “Who’s washing who first?”

Excitement, nerves, and anticipation have me at a slight loss for words.He is joining me in the shower.My mouth opens and my words tumble out. “U-um. M-me,” I answer. Something in the universe is answering a prayer I didn’t have to beg for. I can’t dare say God answered my prayer because I know whatever is about to happen is going to be too salaciously sinful and I can’t put God into that.

So, thank you, universe!

As he leads me into the bathroom, I follow without apprehension. He opens the glass doors and starts both showers, setting the temperature to ninety-five degrees. When he turns back to me, there’s a scowl on his face.

“Stop doing my job,” he says, then places his hand over mine, stopping me from unbuttoning my jeans.

His job.His words are music to my ears and fuel for my body. Everything in me reacts. My clit thumps and I blush. I can’t stop the smile creeping across my face.

I gladly drop my hand and allow him to take over. After taking a step closer, he places his big hands under my sweater. Slowly, he drags them up my side to my breasts. When his thumbs graze my nipples, a moan seeps through my lips.

“Up,” he demands as his hands continue to move. Obediently, I raise my arms and he pushes my sweater and tee over my head. When they fall to the bathroom floor, he wastes no time removing my bra. “Perfect,” he murmurs with his eyes fixed on me.

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