Page 9 of The Dire Reaction

“So,” she says, “let’s go check some cows.”

Chapter five

DANI

Exhausted.Iamabsolutelyexhausted. I’ve never had to check this many cows in a day, and there are four others checking along with me.

I have also never been shit on this much in my life.

“It’s a good thing you remembered your rain gear.” Sam says, walking next to me as we head back up to the house.

“That’s the one thing I remembered from college. Checking cows is, well, messy.” The only reprieve I’ve had was periodically checking on Thor. And that entailed stripping out of all my slimy gear each time I went into the house.

His laugh is so deep that I can feel it in my chest. “It’s okay, Doc, you can say it. It’s shitty.” When a smile plays on his lips it makes his eyes practically glow.

“You’re right.” I can’t resist him. “It’s shitty.” Poop is crusted down the front of me; my boots are covered. I feel two inches taller from the manure caked to the bottoms.

“See, Doc? That wasn’t so hard to say.” I can hear the laughter simmering in his voice. “I have a hose in the barn if you want to clean off a layer or two.”

I’d need to put my gear in the bed of my truck if I didn’t. There’s no way I want this nastiness in the cab with me. “Yes, thank you.”

I’m not sure why, but it makes me happy to see that his barn is tidy. All the walkways are clean, the tack room, with its rows of saddles, is organized, even the hay storage area looks under control.

“Here we are.” He holds up the end of the hose for me. “Ready?” His eyebrows raise, watching me.

My fingers are cold already. The nozzle nearly burns when I grab it. A quick nod and he cracks the spigot. A slow flow of water drizzles out, and all I manage to do is find the crevice between my jacket and pants, and soak my clothes underneath.

To his credit, he stands quietly while I fumble my way through trying to spray areas I can’t even reach.

“Okay. Can I beg for help?” I try to give my best defeated look. But, by the look of his eyes, I may have said the wrong thing.

“You don’t have to—” His eyes are nearly black in the dim light, his lids heavy. I can see his jaw tighten when he holds out his hand. “—but it never hurts to beg a little.” A smile teases his lips as he steps back.

My stomach is flooded with heat, his words ricocheting through me. Biting my lip to keep from panting, I raise my arms so he can spray me down.

Holy shit, if it wasn’t so damned cold, this would be so hot.

He thumbs the water nozzle so it pressurizes. Starting with my legs, the spray makes a tingle that massages me through the layers. He works it rhythmically up and down each leg, thoroughly rinsing the evidence of an untold number of cows from my body.

Up and down. Up and down, he works it farther up my legs, he passes over my hips quickly to my belly, then back down.

It’s so hard not to rub my thighs together, to push down the rising dampness inside my pants. I’m so glad the rain gear is thick enough to not broadcast my painfully hard nipples.

“Turn sideways,” he growls, his voice low and husky.

I obey, a half turn, my arms still raised.

It’s then he hits higher, the tantalizing vibration cresting across my breast and back down my side and leg.

“Again,” he commands.

I hate how much I love this.

I can’t see him, but the spray moves up my legs, up my ass, along the small of my back, pausing right where my bra strap sits. The weight of the water caressing its way back down. Shutting my eyes, I can almost envision it being his hands working their way back down my back, cupping my ass, stroking his way down my thighs.

“Turn,” he grunts.

The water finds my other breast, the nipple rubbing against the firm cloth, the spray misting around my neck. It cools the fire raging in my belly, but barely.

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