Chapter 2

2

Dusty

Holy Christ. Mother Mary and all the saints.

I’m carrying the most beautiful female on the planet back to my farm.

Maybe I have food poisoning and I’ve started hallucinating. I don’t know, but this doesn’t seem real. At all. I couldn’t believe it when the moonlight spilled across her angelic face. Her white-blonde hair. She is innocence with attitude. Pouty and skeptical looking, but underneath, she’s a good girl. A sweet girl. And dear lord, her body.

Don’t look down.

If my cock gets any heavier with need, it’s going to topple us over.

In reality, though, I don’t need to look down to remember every inch of her flesh. Her little leather skirt is wrapped around her hips like it was painted on. That fancy shirt with the strings and lace holds her tits up like the hands of a lover.

I wonder if she ever holds her own tits like that.

Wonder if she ever plays with them. Naked.

A moan almost wrenches its way clear of my throat and I order myself to stop thinking about this angel fondling her own breasts. I am in a bad, bad way. My ball sack is throbbing, weighed down with seed. I haven’t masturbated in a while, been too busy working in the field, but as soon as I get her tucked into a warm bed, I’m going out to the barn and jacking off until the sun comes up. My God. My God, she is so beautiful and smooth and…

A hundred miles out of my league.

I’m filthy dirty and she smells like flowers.

I consider myself lucky that I get this chance to hold her, carry her, host her in my home. Anything else would be outlandish, especially her hot, little body beneath me in my bed.

Here I go again.

It’s twenty-three degrees out right now and I’m sweating.

“You’ve gotten really quiet, Dusty,” Bianca says.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m trying to get used to how you look.”

She makes a choked sound. “Are you always so honest?”

“Yes, of course. A man is measured by his integrity. That includes being honest.” Good. Keep talking. Distract yourself from the way she fits in your arms like a missing piece. “My grandfather always used to say that. He’s the one that left me this farm.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. He’s gone now?”

“Yes, ma’am. He was getting on in years and the place had fallen into terrible disrepair.” I emerge from the cornstalks and my house comes into view up ahead, the barn and livestock pens lying in the distance. “I was discharged from the Army five years ago and I’ve been restoring it ever since.”

I can feel her looking up at me and wish like hell I’d cleaned up before leaving the house to investigate the vehicle parked on the road. “All by yourself?”

“Yes. All by myself.”

“That has to be a ton of work, Dusty.”

Every single one of my muscles flexes when she says my name. I get hot everywhere. “It is a lot of work, Bianca. But someday I’ll have sons to help me tend the land.”

“Hasn’t anyone had the birds and the bees talk with you?” She pats me sympathetically on the shoulder. “You need a woman first.”

The image of this girl pregnant with my son causes me to breathe harder. “I haven’t had time to go find one yet. There has been too much work to be done. I couldn’t bring a woman home to a broken-down farm.”

A beat of silence passes. “And now that it is back up and running? Will you go find one?”

“Well.” We stop outside the side door of my house. I can hear Mildred pecking at the floor inside. This conversation is getting very personal…and now we’re veering into embarrassing territory. What does it matter, though, if I tell this girl my secrets? It isn’t as though I have a hope in hell of making her mine. She is fit for a king, and I am merely a farmer. “I don’t have the kind of skills a man might need to court a woman.”

I kick open my door, sending Mildred squawking to the other side of my kitchen.

I carry Bianca over the threshold, firmly ignoring the sense of triumph. The sense of possessiveness. But she has only come for one night, so she won’t freeze to death. I am not bringing home a bride. There is not enough good fortune in the world to grant me such a treasure.

Reluctantly, I set her down in her weird shoes, a groan building in my chest when I see her in the lamp light of my kitchen. God almighty, she glows. And her eyes are a light, foggy green, her flesh so appetizing, my hands curl into fists. I need to get out to the barn. Soon.

“What does that mean?” She quirks a blonde brow. “You don’t have the skills to court a woman? You mean…flirting?”

“No. I mean…I’ve never lain with one before. I own a farm, so I know the mechanics of sex. Mating. But I…” My face is red hot. I can’t believe I’m saying any of this out loud, especially to this incredible girl. “Well, after I fixed up the farm, my plan was to drive into town and find a woman to practice with. So when it came time to bed my wife, I’d do it right.”

Why are her titties rising and falling so fast in that leather contraption?

A man could die happy sucking on them, but I can’t possibly be that man.

Was she sent here to drive me stark raving mad?

“I…I see,” she whispers. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I…I h-haven’t…either.”

My dick releases a spurt of moisture down the legs of my overalls. Son of a gun, the dam is about to burst. This pretty, little angel is a virgin. “Sorry, ma’am,” I choke out. “I’m needed out in the barn.”

“Wait!”

She looks around my kitchen, wringing her hands. “Where…where should I sleep?”

“Take my bed,” I say, trying to sound normal and failing. “Down the hallway to the right. I’ll bunk down in the barn.”

“It’s cold out there.”

“I’m a hearty man, Bianca.”

“But…you’re just going to split? Leave me in this unfamiliar house with the chicken?”

“Bianca, please. You are wreaking havoc on my body. I have to relieve myself.”

She snaps her mouth shut. “You’re going out to the barn to…to…”

“Let out the pain. Yes. I can’t wait much longer.” It’s not a gentlemanly thing to do, but I can’t go another second without gripping my cock through the denim of my overalls, rubbing my hard flesh roughly, hissing through my teeth. “You have stirred me up but good, darlin’. I don’t want to offend you with what I’m about to do. It wouldn’t be right.”

Pink spots stain her cheeks as she watches the crude actions of my hand. The furious, frustrated stroking of a big, ugly man who has encountered a ripe, young women with barely any clothes to speak of. “This is your house, Dusty,” she whispers. “You shouldn’t have to leave.”

“Please, I don’t have much time,” I pant.

“It’s me doing that to you?”

“Oh, darlin’.” My laugh is pained, deep. “You do this to every man. Maybe you just don’t witness the consequences.”

“The thing is…you are twice my size. And it hasn’t occurred to you that…”

“What?”

“You could have me.” She backs up a pace, her fingers curling around the edge of my kitchen table. “I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”

I suck in a breath so horrified that it razes my throat. “I would never touch an unwilling woman. You told me you aren’t warming my bed tonight, Bianca, and I will never, ever cross your boundaries.” I pound a fist to my chest. “That is written in stone.”

“Oh,” she whispers, seemingly shaken. “Oh my.”

“Pardon?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re…a good man. I don’t think there are very many of you left, Dusty.”

Her praise causes my flesh to swell painfully, more moisture escaping. “I really need to get out to the barn, Bianca. I’m making a mess.”

“It’s just that…” She glances at the ridge of my cock, blushes and looks away. “Well, like I mentioned, I don’t have any experience. And since we’ve established that I’m safe with you, I was thinking I could watch.”

I’m growing dizzier by the second. My mouth is somehow salivating and dehydrated all at once. I already believed her to be a creature crafted personally by the hands of God, but these words she is saying make me wonder if…

No.

This miracle named Bianca isn’t meant for me. It’s impossible.

But what if I was allowed just a little peek into heaven on this night? What if she is my reward for toiling every day for five years to restore this farm to its former glory? My service to the country before that. The presence of an angel for one night. Because her presence is all I can hope for. I won’t ask for more. I won’t expect more.

“You want to watch me?” I rasp.

Wetting her lips, she nods. “Where do you normally…do it?”

The back of my neck turns piping hot. “I feel immoral talking about these kinds of habits with you.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” She bats those big green eyes at me. “It’s just us here, Dusty.”

The chicken squawks.

“And Mildred,” she tacks on, giggling.

Somehow, I find myself laughing, too. A rusted chug of sound that makes me realize I haven’t laughed in years. Further proof that she’s a miracle. “We’ll have more privacy in the bedroom,” I say, stroking myself openly through the denim now. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Me either,” she whispers.

And we have a moment. Just a moment where we look at each other across my kitchen. In the space of a few seconds, I imagine her in there forever. Drinking coffee at the table, sitting on my knee while I massage her neck, bouncing a baby on her hip, hosting a party. I can’t stop the visions no matter how hard I try. They make me burn. Ache.

Stop being greedy.

But maybe I am just a little greedy, because when Bianca turns and saunters toward the bedroom, crooking her finger at me over her shoulder, I follow hungrily, desperate to accept this gift I’ve been given. A chance to explore my lust with a woman who inspires it to a point I can barely control. She’s going to watch me masturbate.

I won’t ask for anything more.

I will continue to be the good man she believes I am.

But I will enjoy this chance to be a little bad tonight.