6. Joe

Chapter 6

Joe

I'd never been in an outdoor shower before, and it was amazing. The hot water soothed my muscles which, I'm not gonna lie, were sore from the hard work. Waylan was like a machine, and it was hard to keep up with him. But I did my best.

The cedar boards of the shower walls glistened from the water and smelled amazing. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the chickens clucking in the light of the setting sun.

I let myself linger in the shower, hoping that wouldn't bother Waylan. The water ran over my face, and I imagined him coming out and opening the door to find me still in here. Would he be angry? I imagined his face as I turned to look at him, and was surprised that he was also naked in my…fantasy? Yes, I was fantasizing about Waylan. Huh .

My own dick was throbbing by then, and I realized I'd been fighting my feelings all day. I soaped up my hand and reached down to stroke myself as I imagined Waylan stepping toward me and reaching out his hand.

"Let me." His strong hand would encircle my cock and rub me as he stepped into the water and kissed me. His lips would be firm and strong. When I looked into his eyes, I'd see the wild animal I'd been seeing in him all day. He'd pull me against him, his hard cock pressed against my stomach.

Slowly, I'd kneel in front of him with our eyes locked. I'd lick and suck him, giving in to my instinct to submit to the alpha. I stroked myself harder and faster in the shower, leaning one hand against the cedar planks as I got closer to release. In my mind, I was Waylan's pleasure, feeling how he'd feel if I could pleasure him. The thought of making him feel good, of his dick filling my mouth, his knot in my ass, and the look of ecstasy in his eyes as he filled me with his seed drove me into a feverish state of desire.

I imagined standing up, kissing Waylan hard and fast, letting his tongue explore my mouth as I jerked him off until he came. I opened my eyes and gasped as my own come was washing down the drain.

Fuck, I wanted Waylan.

No longer able to avoid it, I turned off the water and toweled off in the cool air. With the towel around my waist, I gathered my clothes and walked to the trailer. As casually as I could, I shot at glance at Waylan's house on the other side of the barn but didn't see him. I longed to know what he was doing in there, but as I stepped into the little Airstream, I realized I'd had a stroke of luck finding this gig, and I didn't want to blow it.

The delicious smell hit me first. A hot bowl of steaming stew sat on a tray on the little table with a can of beer beside it. Gratefully, I sat down to eat. The stew was delicious, and I was super hungry. I practically inhaled the chunks of potatoes, meat, carrots, onions, and rich broth, guzzling them down with cold beer. My attention was so focused on the food that I didn't notice the books until I'd finished eating.

Tucked against the wall of the trailer, next to the window, was a bundle of books tied with string. I reached for them and saw a folded piece of paper atop the first book. On it was a small watercolor painting of the same purple flower that had been left with my basket. "Happy Birthday," the note read. "Thanks for all your help."

Three new books!

I'd forgotten it was my birthday as soon as I mentioned it to him. But Waylan hadn't.

I wanted to thank him, but something held me back, like it would be too much too soon. I needed to give him space.

Instead of seeking him out, I snuggled into the little bed and read until I fell asleep. Full of good food and feeling refreshed from the shower, it was the best birthday I'd had…maybe ever.

The next day, I simply thanked Waylan when we headed back out to the field.

He nodded and cleared his throat. And that was that. A man of few words, and I respected that.

We didn't have much conversation over the next week, but we fell into a silent routine that was comfortable. I'd knock on his door before sunrise. He'd come out with two cups of coffee and two breakfast burritos that we ate and drank in the truck. Then we'd work all day with a break for lunch.

Waylan worked hard, but he also rested hard. After lunch, he'd lie back in the hay or the grass, pull his hat over his eyes, and take a nap for thirty minutes.

I was envious of his ability to fully relax like that. Sleep had never come easily to me, but that was okay. I loved just lying down beside him and listening to him breathe—a steady, peaceful sound that made me feel strangely safe.

He'd wake up after exactly thirty minutes without the use of an alarm, and we'd work straight until late afternoon.

Strangely, I often found myself feeling flustered when he worked nearby. My heart would race as I stole glances of his rippling muscles and clenched jaw. The more I watched him, the more I realized that Waylan was unusually gorgeous. And an alpha. I began to wonder why he was out here all alone.

I'd heard stories of lone alphas and was warned to avoid them because they wouldn't be able to help themselves when presented with an unbonded omega. But Waylan wasn't like any other alpha I'd met before. At least not in that way. He certainly had all the same protective and dominating attributes common to big alphas like him.

At night, I would imagine him naked in bed, and I'd long to feel his body against mine. I'd play with myself while I thought of Waylan's mouth, tongue, body, and those piercing eyes roving over me. Sometimes, I thought I heard an animal outside, and in the mornings, I'd find large pawprints in the dirt around the trailer.

But that just made the mystery of Waylan deepen, along with my crush.

We managed to save most of the crop from the heavy rain, including harvesting a portion of it that was ready to come out. Waylan and I were in the barn, drying the plants for packaging, when one of the chickens came strutting by.

I had taken on the chore of feeding them since I arrived and was getting to know their personalities.

I'd named that black hen Trixie, and called out to her.

Waylan looked up from the plants. "That's Priscilla."

"You named them?"

He put down his project and came closer. "Yeah. And the rooster over there, that's Elvis. He's her boyfriend."

I laughed at his sense of humor. That was the most I'd heard Waylan say all week. He was standing close enough for me to feel the warmth that radiated off him, and I leaned a little closer. "You don't strike me as a chicken-namer."

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "What do I strike you as?"

I paused. "A chicken eater."

Waylan laughed for the first time and turned to look at me, almost as shocked as I was.

When I smiled back, the air between us filled with the electric charge that seemed to take over whenever we were close to each other.

My gaze dropped to his lips, and I reflexively licked mine and then swallowed. When I looked back into his eyes, his breathing had slowed, and he was staring at me with an intensity I'd never seen before.

I wanted to touch him and started to raise a trembling hand when I felt a sharp stab on the back of my calf. "Ow!" I turned just in time to see Elvis come at me with another stab of his sharp beak. "What the fuck?" I kicked at him and stumbled backward.

Waylan caught me and steadied me, laughing. "It's because you called his girlfriend Trixie."

Waylan's hands were holding my arms as I caught my balance. I wanted to step closer into his arms, but the stupid rooster kept coming at me. I yelled and kicked at him as Waylan laughed harder. I was equal parts amused and embarrassed. No way was I going to let a rooster dominate me in front of Waylan.

I stomped my foot toward the bird, and he backed up. Then he lunged at me, and I yelled and lunged back. Next thing I knew, I was chasing him around the barn to the sound of Waylan's laughter.

"Go, Joe, go!"

I dodged left and right after the nimble rooster, and a weird feeling started to come over me, like a heat spreading up my spine. My limbs began to tingle, and my ears itched. I suddenly felt compelled to catch the rooster, as if my life depended on it. I let out a strange sort of barking sound, and next thing I knew, I was on the ground.

But rather than staying on the ground, I was speeding above it. I looked down and saw furry gray legs racing beneath me. What the fuck was happening? My body had taken over, and I continued after the rooster with a relentless focus.

From behind me I heard Waylan shouting, "You're a fox, Joe? Why didn't you tell me?"