Chapter 29

The next few days are a busy blur. Despite my conversation with Wiley, there isn’t a ton of time for romance between work, so I end up just wearing myself down into exhaustion each night. He gives me a kiss and leaves me to sleep, never complaining once. Dakota has been warmer toward me, but he hadn’t really changed his bossiness, nor has his stoic demeanor disappeared completely. I suppose that’s just a part of his personality. It must take so much to run a ranch of this size.

And Levi? Despite Levi’s moment of softness after the bar, he returns right back to his silent, grumpy self. That’s the Levi I get when I head out to the pastures with him on Thursday, a few days after we all went out to the Boot Scoot. Apparently, we have some fence posts to fix out on the edges of the ranch which is so far away from the house, we have to drive a good fifteen minutes to reach it. There’s nothing out in this field except for the barbed wire fences and a small lean-to meant for the cows when they’re in this particular pasture. They’re in a different one today so it’s quiet except for the sounds of the birds that fly overhead and the soft breathing of Levi as he hauls a post from the truck. His limp isn’t lost on me, more pronounced now after the bar but not so much you’d notice it unless you’re looking.

“Is your leg okay?” I ask when he kind of stumbles over a clump of grass.

“It’s fine,” he answers.

Of course he won’t admit to any sort of pain. So I let him meander through it even if he’s working slower than normal. I do as he says, getting everything ready to attach the barbed wire to the posts once we get them in the ground. Overhead, storm clouds start to gather but I don’t say anything about that either. When Levi’s ready to head back, we will.

But the clouds grow larger and angrier quickly. They roll in like a warning and when the first crack of thunder echoes, I flinch. Levi doesn’t react at all. My silence suddenly seems silly.

“Um, Levi,” I hazard, looking up at the sky. “Should we head back?”

“I gotta finish these posts,” he grunts, trying to move a little faster. “The cows are due to be in this pasture tomorrow.”

Lightning dances across the sky and I shift uncomfortably. Levi is using metal tools. What if we’re struck by lightning? There’s no way I can haul his ass back into the truck. It’s too far down the fence now after we’d unloaded the posts. We’re replacing at least a hundred feet of fencing.

The smell of fresh rain fills the air and I glance at Levi nervously. We’re closer to the lean-to than the truck. It’s got a small tin roof on it and more tin on the sides, but it’s mostly made of wood and full of hay. That’s probably safer than the truck, right?

In the distance, the clouds begin to purge their water onto the mountain, and I stare with wonder at the way it looks. For a second, I forget that that torrential downpour is headed our way. When I’m reminded of that as it grows closer, my chest squeezes.

“Levi,” I try again, my eyes wide. He doesn’t answer. “Levi?”

“What?” he growls, before looking up at where I do. His own eyes widen. “Fuck!”

We don’t get a chance to move before the rain drops on us. And when I say drop, I mean it. There’s no gentle sprinkle and then spattering of rain. It’s like someone drops buckets of water on top of us and never runs out. I screech and take off running, choosing the lean-to as my shelter because of its proximity. To my surprise, Levi drops his tools and runs after me, the rain beating down on us like the gods are angry. It soaks me clean through within a few seconds, my clothing sticking to me as I run. I slide to a stop beneath the lean-to and watch Levi come rushing in behind me, dripping as much as I am. The rain’s so heavy, we can’t even see the truck or the fence we’d been working on only a moment before.

“Jesus Christ,” I pant. “I’ve never seen rain do that.”

Levi takes off his hat and hangs it on a nail before pushing his hair from his face. Only the ends of it seem to have gotten wet thanks to his hat. “You don’t get downpours like this in the city?”

I shake my head. “Not very often.”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s my favorite type of weather.”

I glance over at him, studying his profile. He really is beautiful. Levi is a large man, built in the shoulders and tall as fuck. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. Right now, his button-down shirt and jeans are sticking to him like a second skin, highlighting just how pretty he is beneath those clothing.

He glances over at me and sees me looking. “What?”

“Just admiring the artwork,” I muse with a smile.

He scowls. “I’m no artwork. If anything, I’m shards of broken glass.”

I shrug. “Still art in the right setting.”

He stills, those pretty eyes spearing straight into me. “I ain’t the one, Kate.”

Frowning, I brace my hands on my hips. “What do you mean?”

“Wiley, I understand. He’s always been charismatic. And Dakota is great in a no-nonsense way, but I ain’t the one to be flirting with. I’m not like them.” His eyes flash with something dangerous, a warning.

I shift back a step and shrug. “I was under the impression that you liked me and that it was okay to act on it. But if you’re not okay with it, that’s fine.”

He watches me silent for a few seconds. “What makes you think I like you?”

I open my mouth and close it again, not sure what I should say. “I just thought?—”

“That I like you,” he says, taking a step closer, forcing me to back up. “I don’t like you, Kate. You’re a city girl who at any moment could up and leave. You spend too much time befriending the animals instead of working. You smile all the fucking time,” he growls. My back hits the wall behind me and he stops just before me. “You sparkle in the sunshine like a fucking sunflower. You smell like vanilla even when you’ve been working all day. You don’t look at me like a fucking monster.” His words cut off as he braces his arms on either side of me. I’m staring up at him with wide eyes, his words slamming into me.

“No, I don’t fucking like you,” he repeats, his words thick with anger. “I fucking yearn for you. And it pisses me off.”

My mouth pops open in surprise. “What?” I croak.

“Every smile, every laugh, every time you convince some animal that has no business being friendly to be your friend, I fight the urge to throw you over my shoulder and carry you away,” he rasps. “Because I think you do the same to me. I’m just another animal to tame, just another monster, and you keep reaching out despite that.”

“You think so little of yourself,” I whisper.

“No,” he says. “I know what I am.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Did you know sunflowers thrive in Chernobyl?”

“No,” I whisper.

“They do. And at night, instead of looking at each other like normal sunflowers,” he says, his shoulders tense. “They look at the ground. At the radiation there. You’re the sunflower, princess,” he whispers. “And I’m the toxic waste.”

My breathe stutters and I find myself reaching up to cup his face. “Or maybe you’re just the sunshine,” I whisper. “Either way, I see you.”

He jerks back like I physically hit him, his eyes taking in my expression, the way I’m looking up at him. He pulls away and turns his back to me, his shoulders heaving. I go to take a step toward him, to comfort him or to make sure he’s okay, I’m not sure, but I don’t get the chance. Before I can reach out for him, he spins and yanks me against him so hard it almost hurts.

“I’m not strong enough to resist you,” he growls.

“Then don’t,” I argue.

He shakes his head. “You’re going to regret that, Kate, but that’ll be your burden to carry.” And then he slams his lips against mine in a brutal, desperate kiss.

Wiley is a hurricane. Dakota is the sea. But Levi? He’s a forest fire. When he kisses me, I grow hot with his inferno. There’s no build up to it. There’s no gentle coaxing of lips. One moment, I’m fine, and the next I’m being charred.

I feel small in his hands as he grinds me against him, as his large hands cup my ass and drag me closer. We’re so close, there’s no way to know where one begins and the other ends. We breathe each other’s air. And when his hand brutally grips my hair and jerks my head back, I gasp in pain, but my hands don’t stop gripping his chest. I don’t stop grinding my pelvis against the zipper of his wet jeans.

With our clothing sticking to us like it is, it proves difficult to remove them completely. I reach for Levi’s shirt where it tucks into his pants and yank it out, but I have a hard time getting the shirt off him once I get the snaps undone so I leave it hanging around him, his chest and abs on display. I stroke my fingers through the light smattering of hair across his chest, groaning as he leans down to bite at my neck. There’s no way we’re going to be able to get these jeans off. I know that. He knows that. But neither one of us seems to care.

He reaches between us and jerks my shirt out of my jeans. Unlike me, he doesn’t waste time trying to unbutton every button. Instead, he rips my shirt open, sending the buttons flying. I gasp, reaching up to feel the damage, but he bends me backwards over one of his forearms and then uses his other arms to push back on the front of my neck, until I’m barely standing upright, and only remaining so because of his hold.

“A fucking sunflower,” he groans as he leans down and shoves my bra up with his face. His beard scratches against my skin, driving me insane as I bend to his mercy. “It pisses me off how much I want you.”

“Show me,” I pant, my chest heaving.

His eyes meet mine. “Show you what?”

“How much it pisses you off,” I answer, not looking away. “I’m not scared of whatever demons you think you carry, Levi.”

Fire ignites in his eyes. “No?” He leans closer, his breath fanning across my lips. “Not even when I fuck you in the hay like a two-dollar whore?” He nips at my chin. “Not even when I continue to fuck you as you beg me to stop?”

I stop breathing. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

The pull of Levi’s lips isn’t a smile so much as it’s a challenge. I’ve always been stubborn. I’ve always spoken before I’ve really thought things through. But here, in this lean-to out in the middle of a pasture, there are no rules. There’re no societal expectations. There’s nothing saying how I should act or who I should be afraid of. I’d be lying if I said I don’t want Levi with a vengeance. The way he’s looking at me, like he both wants to eat me alive and destroy me at the same time, I want whatever he can give.

He lets me go so suddenly, I nearly fall, only saving myself when I grab onto the wood against the wall.

“What—” I start to ask, but I’m distracted by the sight of Levi jerking his own shirt off completely. He reveals all that he is, including the scars. I’ve never seen the scars before. A large one cuts through his stomach, splitting him from his hip to the base of his ribs. It’s puckered as if the tear was jagged rather than smooth. I’m about to ask, to reach out and touch, but Levi reaches for the belt buckle at his waist and my mouth dries up.

He watches me as he slowly unbuckles his belt, but he doesn’t pull it away. Once open, he reaches for the button of his jeans and the large hard on I can see pressing against his zipper. When he frees his cock, I stare with wide eyes.

I’d thought Wiley was big, but Levi is fucking massive. He’s a large man, so I shouldn’t be shocked, but his size definitely translates to his cock as well. Long enough to make me nervous and thick enough to know I’ll need some build up, Levi is impressive. I lick my lips, hungry for him. He doesn’t shove his jeans off, knowing full well he won’t be able to with how wet he is. Instead, he peels them away from his hips and leaves them resting there.

With a quickness I don’t expect, Levi lashes out, his hand fisting in my hair to drag me closer. I stumble, tripping over my own feet as he shoves down and forces me to my knees before him.

“This would be better if you were wearing mascara,” he groans. “I wanna see you gagging on my cock, your eyes watering, makeup running down your face as you take me deep.”

His hand doesn’t release my hair as he pushes me forward until my lips touch the tip of him. He rubs it there, teasing, looking down at me as if I’m something to both be treasured and used. He’s so tall, I can’t just sit back on my heels. I have to remain upright. My hands reach out to grip his thighs, knowing where this is going.

“Open,” he orders and my lips pop open without hesitation.

He doesn’t praise me for following his orders. My reward is him shoving his cock past my lips so deep my back immediately bows with my gagging. He presses deeper, groaning as my fingers dig into his thighs hard enough to leave marks. My eyes water immediately. Only when I start frantically slapping at him does he pull me back. I take in a great gulp of air, trying to prepare myself before he jerks me back down on his cock. He starts to brutally fuck my face, his cock hitting the back of my throat and then going deeper. There’s no checking to make sure I’m okay.

“Your throat feels so fucking good,” he grunts. “I could fucking paint the back of it a hundred times and still want more.”

Tears run down my face now and I fucking love it. Despite this brutality, despite how rough he is, my pussy is so wet, I’m leaking into my jeans. He uses my throat like his own personal toy, and I’m desperate for more. All the while, his hand stays roughly gripping my hair to the point of pain as he uses it for leverage to fuck my throat faster. When he groans and his cock jumps in my mouth, disappointment fills me for a moment before he jerks out and moans. He grips his cock hard, hissing between his teeth, as some of his warmth coats my tongue. I swallow it before moving to lick the tip again, but his hand in my hair jerks me back.

I grin. “That wasn’t so bad,” I tease.

He looks down at me with hooded eyes. “I’m not done, princess.”

“You’re not?” I blink, glancing down at where he’s still very much hard. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a man who was able to finish more than once.

“Up,” he commands, tugging on my hair until I’m forced to stand. Only once I’m on my feet does he release his hold on my hair. When he reaches for the button of my jeans, I watch him carefully.

“I won’t be able to get them off,” I warn.

“I don’t need them off,” he growls before wrenching open the zipper and shoving my jeans down my hips. It’s like peeling a second skin off with how tight and wet they are. But he shoves them down to around my knees with brute force, jerking me around as he does so. Then he comes back up and turns me. He jerks my shirt off my shoulders before unsnapping my bra and tossing it behind him.

The rain still pours outside, soaking the ground, flooding it. I wonder if we’ll even be able to get the truck out of here briefly, but I forget all about that when he plasters his chest to my back and cups my breasts from behind.

“I wanna taste you,” he groans. “But these damn jeans.”

I chuckle. “You really know how to make a lady feel special.”

“I’m not here to make you feel special,” he growls. “I’m here to fuck your pussy until you can hardly stand, until I mark my territory like you’re a bitch in heat.”

I gasp as he shoves me down, down, down until I’m bracing my hands and knees on the hay beneath us. “Hey!” I growl, annoyed with his handling, but then his large hand wraps around the back of my skull and shoves me face down into the hay, telling me essentially to shut up. I wanna be mad, but to be perfectly honest, I’m eating this shit up.

I hear him move around behind me and then he’s pressing me forward. I prepare myself for something rough. Instead, his large hands grab my ass cheeks and spread them wide. My knees are trapped together by my jeans so I can’t spread them. My hands clench handfuls of hay beneath me as he slides his fingers along my seam.

“Look how wet you are for this,” he growls. “I think you like being fucked like this.”

“I never said I didn’t,” I pant.

When I hear him licking his finger, I look over my shoulder at him, my pussy clenching at the sight of him tasting me. When he catches me looking, his gaze turns poisonous. He reaches down and shoves at my lower back, forcing my chest against the hay, forcing a painful arch in my back.

“You think you can handle all three of us?” he growls, the head of his cock swiping through the moisture between my thighs. “If you can’t handle me, you ain’t got no business here.”

“I can handle you,” I grunt as he continues to tease my entrance.

“Let’s see,” he growls before shoving his cock inside me.

I cry out as he stretches me, as pinch points of pain make my pussy spasm, but I’m wet enough that the only resistance comes from his rough shoving. He works inside me until he’s fully seated, until his hips are against my ass, and he moans. His hands come down around my ribs and he leans his full weight on me, using it to keep me so brutally arched. He’s a heavy motherfucker, so I gasp, but what comes in pain is made up in pleasure as he starts to work his hips. He pulls out and slams back into me, my ass shaking with the force of his thrust. There’s no staying quiet. My cry comes from my lips, echoing around us despite the sounds of the heavy rain hitting the tin roof above us. He pulls out and again brutally slams inside me, his height compared to mine giving him the perfect leverage around me.

“You feel so good stretched around me,” he snarls. “It shouldn’t feel so good.”

I can’t answer because he starts to really fuck me, almost out of anger, his hips slapping against mine as he powers inside me. His cock stretches me wide, his balls slap against my clit, and my legs start to shake almost right away. When I shatter, convulsing beneath him and screaming my release, he doesn’t even slow despite the way my pussy clenches around him.

“You’re my little bitch, aren’t you?” he snarls. “The Steele Mountain Whore. Taking all our cocks whenever we want.”

That shouldn’t be hot. I should be offended. Instead, all I do is hiss, “yes,” as he fucks me ruthlessly. I shudder beneath him as he fucks me, my legs shaking, wave after wave of pleasure filling me.

“Say it,” he growls. “Tell me you’re our Steele Mountain Whore.”

I can barely speak, but still, I manage to turn my head to the side and grunt out the words. “I’m your Steele Mountain Whore.”

“We’re gonna take our turns with you,” he grunts. “I’m gonna fuck you like this while one of the others fucks your throat.” He reaches up and circles my asshole, pressing against it, pressing inside. “I wonder which of us will get this tight hole first. You better hope it’s not me,” he warns. “I’m half tempted to fuck it now.”

Fear flickers inside me. He’s too big and the way he’s currently fucking me, I know he won’t be gentle. When his dark chuckle reaches my ears, my body tenses.

“There’s the fear,” he groans. “But I’m not that much of an asshole.”

He releases his hold on my ribs and grabs a fistful of hair again. He jerks me up off my hands, my back aching with the movement as he presses my back against his chest. When he lets go of my hair to wrap his hand around my throat, I gasp. His hand is large enough that it covers it completely. He could strangle me right now and I wouldn’t even care. I’d probably ask for more.

Levi’s hand moves up and covers my jaw, forcing my mouth open. Once it pops open, he hooks his fingers into my jaw to keep it that way, until my cries echo around us once more. His other hand grabs at my tits roughly, too hard, and he never stops fucking me at his brisk and hard pace. My hair has fallen mostly out of my hair tie, and my hat is lying somewhere in the hay.

“I’m going to cover these tits with my come,” he hisses in my ear. “And then you’re gonna wear it back to the house for everyone else to see.”

I moan at his words because fuck if I don’t want that, too. I want anything he wants to give me. Fuck, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come since we started this, every release feeling as if it just rolls into another one. My eyes have started to roll back in my head, and he fucks me like he hates me, and yet I know he doesn’t. He hates how I make him feel, sure, but he doesn’t hate me. He hates that he’s enjoying this as much as I am.

I scream, another large release slamming into me, and he picks up speed, fucking me so hard, I see stars. When he jerks from inside me and shoves me to the side, I don’t think much of it, not until he shoves me in the hay on my back and hovers over me. His cock jumps and his release spurts from the tip, covering my breasts and my neck as I tip my chin up.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he grunts as he does so, as he strokes his cock and milks more. When he’s done, he reaches down and smears it into my skin, rubbing it in, tweaking my nipples as he passes them until I’m undulating beneath him. He doesn’t rub it in enough for it to disappear, only enough to spread it, until I feel as if I’m covered in it.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his face hard. “Fucking beautiful. Don’t wipe it off. It stays.”

I nod in understanding as I pant, trying to catch my breath, and his eyes heat again.

“I already want you again,” he snarls. “Fuck it!” He grips my hair and forces my mouth open again, his cock already hard. He fucks my throat for all of a minute before he’s coming again, adding to what’s already across my neck, painting me with his release.

It takes far longer to get our clothes back on than it took to get them somewhat off. In the end, Levi ties my button-down around my stomach since he fucked up the buttons and he doesn’t even bother putting his back on. The rain slows enough that we’re able to make a mad dash back to the truck and true to his word, he makes me wear his come across my chest and neck when we get back to the house. To my disappointment, he doesn’t follow me into my cabin, but he does kiss the ever-loving fuck out of me in front of Wiley.

The man only grins as Levi walks away without a word. His eyes dance down to the come across my chest and he chuckles. “Told you he liked you,” he teases.

I can’t help my own answering smile as I disappear into my cabin for a shower.