Page 14 of Love Harvested on Thanksgiving
As the figure moves closer, I realize it’s Alex and I groan internally. I shut off my tractor and hop off. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I try to calm my thoughts.
She’s wearing a white blouse that’s partially see-through. Her breasts peek through the sheer fabric, and I can see her nipples are hard. Her tits are perky, and I have to force myself to look away. Her skirt is short and tight, hugging her curves, and showing off her long, smooth legs.
“What do you want?” I ask gruffly. I can’t understand how she can be so happy all the time. She always has that infuriating smile plastered to her face.
“Well, it’s no surprise you’re in a bad mood,” she says, her eyes scanning me. “Miserable as always, I see.”
I step closer to her, so close I can smell the intoxicating sweetness of her. God, her skin looks so soft.
“I was fine until I was interrupted…” I say, watching her smile fall.
She steps even closer to me so that our bodies touch. Her hard nipples poke through her shirt against my stomach, and I grit my teeth.
“You need a hobby, something to release all that pent-up anger,” she says through her teeth.
“Are you volunteering?” I ask, a smirk pulling on my lips. Why would I say that? And why the hell do I want her to say yes?
“In your fucking dreams,” she spits, leaning in, her eyes daring me.
Her smirk doesn’t falter even as I reach for her. I grab her by the jaw, pulling her face up to meet mine, and crash my lips to hers. She gasps against my mouth, and I push my tongue through her parted lips. She moans as she runs her hands over my body.
She tugs my shirt up, and I pull away from her to pull it over my head.
I spin her around and lift her up, bending her over the tractor seat. Her hands grip the side of the seat as I pull her skirt up over her hips. I groan at the sight in front of me. She isn’t wearing any panties, and her pussy is glistening in the early morning light.
I run my fingers between her lips, feeling the wetness of her. I undo my belt and pull my pants down, freeing my hard cock. I slide the tip across her drenched entrance, pulling a moan from her lips.
I watch as her juices coat my cock, and then I slam into her. She yelps, and I grip her hips tightly as I start to drive in and out of her. God her pussy is so tight, and I know I’m probably stretching her to the max, but I don’t care. She wanted me to let out my anger, so that’s what I’m doing.
I pound into her relentlessly, not caring about anything else. She whimpers, and I grip her ass tighter, holding her in place as I fill every inch of her. The walls of her tighten around the thickness of me, a silent plea to fill her with my cum. Just as I feel myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm—I jolt awake.
I’m in bed, sweating and breathing hard. I try to calm my racing heart, but all I can think about is that dream and how it felt all too real. I run a hand over my face, groaning.
Why the hell isshein my head? She’s the last person who should be there; I don’t even like her. I don’t trust her. I sure as hell don’t want her. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping the memory of her fades before it sticks.
I sit up fast, swing my legs out of bed, and plant my feet on the wood floor. I promised myself a long time ago I’d never let a woman get close. Women don’t belong close to this life. Not to me. Not here.
I’ve seen the horrific things that can happen to people like her in this place. The image flashes behind my eyes before I can stop it. My mother’s body dragging across the dirt, the scream, the way I couldn’t help her.
I was just a boy, but that moment carved something into me that I’ll never shake. Farms are supposed to give life, but they can take it just as quick. Brutally. And I’d rather be alone forever than risk watching that happen again.
So, no woman will ever have access to me or this farm. Specially notthatwoman. Not after what she did. Not after the bullshit she was part of in school. I shove the memory down before it can start. I rake a hand through my hair and exhale hard.
Whatever is going on in my head about Alex Rhodes ends now.
The old coffee maker groans to life, filling the air with the familiar bitter smell. I lean on the counter, staring out the window at the first sliver of sunrise stretching over the fields.
I grab a donut from the half-empty box on the counter and step out onto the porch with my coffee in hand. The sun’s barely up, just a pale orange line spreading over the horizon and the fields are still heavy with fog.
I set the mug down on the railing and roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness. Time to get started.
The pumpkins are lined up by the barn, and I start hauling them to the photo area one by one.
Every few trips, I glance up toward the road without even thinking, expecting to see that little white SUV kicking up sand. I curse under my breath and grab another pumpkin.
This event will bring half the damn town here before noon, and it’sherthat has me on edge. I sigh as I finish the pumpkin arrangement, shoving the memory of last night’s dream down before it can surface.
CHAPTER NINE
