Page 6 of Fires Creek
“The previous owner was never here, so when my dad, Frank, was hired as Foreman, our family were given the house. When my parents adopted Teddy, he moved in too.My family has been here for over 50 years,” Jonas continued.
“So… we’re technicallyhousemates?”I asked. At this point, what the fuck else was I supposed to do? Kick them out?Sure, that’d go down well.
Teddy’s eyes lingered on me as he quietly sipped his whiskey. The way his full lips curled over the ornamental glass sent pools of heat to my core. This man was somehow both adorable and devastatingly sexy.
“Is that a problem for you, River Carlisle?” Teddy questioned, each word enunciated slowly. It felt more like a challenge than a question. The way my name fell from his lips was dizzying.Alright, Theodore. Game on, let’s play.
“Only if you promise to be a good boy, Theodore.” I let the words drip slowly from my mouth, careful to leave him right on the edge, exactly where I wanted him.
He smirked in approval, leaning back in his chair and resting his boots against the firm, oak table before him. The dark brown leather of his boots was coated in dust and worn at every angle. Scuff marks covered the heel entirely, and the stitching was coming away towards the toe. They were beautiful, like their wearer. A large, flashy belt buckle with a gold longhorn peeked from beneath the fabric of his shirt, which was lazily tucked into one side of his jeans.
As the night went on and alcohol consumed me, the more I wished they’d show me their ropes - or tie me up in them.Knock it off. I cannot be having these thoughts. I am their boss, for God’s sake.
“You need to learn how to ride a damn horse!” Teddy slurred, leaning forward and winking at me.
“I can ride a horse, thank you very much. It’s just… been a while.”
“Well, you might be able to ride a horse, sweet cheeks,but can ya’ ride a cowboy? YEEHAAAW!” He yelled, standing to his feet and thrusting his hips wildly.Idiot.
“Fuck me dead, Teddy, give her a break.” Jonas sighed, throwing a pillow towards him and shaking his head. “Sorry, River,” he offered.
“I’m a big girl, Jonas. I think I can handle a cowboy, or two. Although, I’ve never had my very own before.” I giggled, my teeth sinking into my lower lip ever so slightly as my eyes met his.
Jonas’s cheeks flushed crimson, his hand raised as if he was going to speak, but the words never came.Nothing to say, hey? You aren’t like your brother then.
“Alright boys, I’m just gonna go get my stuff and unpack. It’s almost dark out, and this storm seems to be setting in.” I confidently pressed my hands against my skirt as I stood up, downed my drink, and gathered myself to leave.
I made my way through the cosy, rustic halls of the Manor, soaking in the intricate art that lined the walls. There’s stunning landscape paintings of galloping horses and rolling hills, and I spotted an old photo of Teddy standing in some sort of pen, next to a gigantic bull. He had a satisfied smile plastered across his boyish face. A thick, bronze plate adorned the frame reading:‘Theodore James.14y/o Novice. 1stPlace Professional Bull Riding, Wattle Ridge.’I couldn’t help but smile. Even as a teenager, he still had that same cheeky look about him.
The storm was rolling in fast, and the crisp air bit at my face as I stepped outside. The flood lights shone over the manor, casting thick, ominous shadows across the yard. I hadn’t realised that Teddy followed me out to the car until he cleared his throat behind me. I turned to see a crooked smile creeping across his mouth. He propped an armagainst the roof of my Mini Cooper and leant into me, his smokey eyes dancing as they met mine.
“You need some help there, Peach?”
“What’s with the Peach shit?” I asked. An overwhelming, gravitational pull stopped me from looking anywhere but his eyes. His smoky, green eyes.I was fucked.
He moved in closer, the whiskey lingering on his breath, intoxicating me as he invaded my space and murmured slowly.“I like it. It suits you. Peach, like your pretty, pink, cunt.”
He didn’t wait for me to reply. He just winked at me and opened the door, revealing my things packed neatly in the backseat. This man was absolutely gorgeous, and, apparently, that meant I had forgotten how to breathe. Or, you know, be normal.
“What’s the matter, River? Ain’t never let a cowboy get under your skin?” he asked, smirking as his eyes darkened.
“And what makes you think thatyouare going to get under my skin,Theodore?”I replied, pressing myself against him ever so slightly.His eyes twinkled and tiny flecks of brown danced around his pupils, enhancing the iridescent shade of green that lay beneath them as they bore into me with the question, and I cocked my brow up in a challenge.
That was clearly all the invitation he needed. His hands slid through my hair, as he plunged his tongue into my mouth. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes. “God, you taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’,” he moaned into me.
I don’t know if it’s all the shit that happened the last few years – or if I just needed to get laid – but I had no intention of stopping this man. The clouds grew darker behind us as our mouths crashed together fiercely, hungrily. He wrapped his hands around my thighs, sliding them up my ass as he lifted me around his waist, neverbreaking our kiss. My skirt rode up my thighs, and his erection pressed against my core. He swirled his hips and ground into me, the car providing the perfect balance for friction.
“Mmm, sweet girl,” his gravelly voice beckoned me as he stroked the hair from my cheek. He pressed his rough lips to my throat and sucked on my tender flesh, hard enough to mark me with his touch. I was absolutely feral for this man.
“God, Teddy, yes!” I panted against his shoulders.
He quickened the pace of his grinding hips, and I slipped my hands between us. Fumbling with his ostentatious belt buckle, I flicked the clasp open and yanked at the button of his jeans. Pulling his belt out of the loops and discarding it on the dirt driveway, I pressed my mouth back to his.
He winced as the belt hit the dirt with a thud before pulling his lips from mine and groaning, “Ugh, be gentle with her.”
“Her?” I asked.
“Traditionally, one doesn’t throw a man’s belt in the dirt, Peach.”
