The Book Experiment

The Book Experiment

I’ve had this crazy idea floating in my head. Likely this cockamamie idea should remain just a concept but I’m a person who doesn’t like to follow convention.  Never have.

What’s this absurd notion I’ve had? I want to write a book warts and all on display for everyone to see the process from infancy to complete. You will witness cringe worthy errors and the struggle that writing with a learning disability can be. But I will not allow those things to be my reason not to move forward with this project.

As I go along, I’m going to be providing commentary on what I’m doing and why when possible.

This Erotica story I’ve been working on in the background seems to be the right fit for my book experiment.

Warning:

1. This is the first working draft of my work in progress (WIP) under the working title (WT) Kansas Rule.

2. Shitty spelling and use of grammar that would cause some corpses to rollover in their grave.

3. The content of this book will contain graphic sex. BDSM. Characters who’ve suffered from physical, mental and sexual trauma at an early age.

 

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000038_00016]Copyright © 2013, Leila DeSint
Published by Leila DeSint

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

I welcome sharing by link posting not copying of material. If you have any questions about sharing this work please contact me.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

 

I will try to post one chapter a month and to add my comments on the chapters as I have time to.

November:    Chapter 1 To read my comments on the chapter: Chapter 1 Revealed

I lifted the groceries from the back of the SUV. Yet to embrace the pick-up parked to the side. What use would I have for hick’s Cadillac Tyler? None. I hate that bright shiny reminder!

“I saw your help wanted sign.” The young masculine voice came from a few feet away.

I startled, dropping the bag. On impact the paper sac tore.

“Wonderful.” The fruit from within rolled beneath the vehicle. Lifting the front of my dress to keep from getting it muddy, I lowered on my knees on the damp soil road.

“I’m terribly, sorry.” Tall and chiseled tilted back the brim of his hat, swung the duffle bag to his shoulder, and helped collect the fallen content.

His subtle green eyes struck me. I flinched at the sadness I found there. This man knew pain deep rooted agony.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said juggling items in his arms.

Perhaps my reaction to him furthered the sense fear emanating from me. I never thought myself the type to scare easy. But life had a way of slapping people in the face when down. I’d all but put a neon sign up saying I was alone out here.

“Just startled–surprised.” I pushed to deliver a smile though the corners of my mouth shook. Someone young drifter showed up and I panicked. Wasn’t this what I had wanted? “What’s your name?” I wanted death didn’t I? Some tragic end that would terminate my existence.

“Decker W.(Whitnah) Hutchinson, ma’am, most people call me Hutch.” The southern draw evident in his speech. I’m not calling him, Hutch. Given he was a Hutchinson I would not have imagined he’d want to apply to an opening on Crawford land. Family feuds ran deep in Harper County. But what did, I care of centuries old hate? I didn’t. I was as far from civilization as someone of my complexion ought be.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Felicia Ross.” I’d been born a Ross, Crawford came later. I wiped my hand on the jean jacket I wore. Spring wind still held a brisk chill.

He shook my hand and clutched to the items for life. “Ms. Ross.”

For all I knew he thought he could con me out of the land. A big fuck you to the Crawfords. Part of me needed a challenge. Half the town detested me and the other half thought I should leave well enough alone and put the land in the right hands.  As far as I knew right wasn’t a synonym for white. At least it wasn’t the last time I’d checked the thesaurus. So to hell with them all, I’d pull this off even with them thumbing their noses at me.

“You know much about farming?” I moved on to the porch. Because I wouldn’t have cared if he was out to play me I’d double cross a double crosser. I’d done all the praying on my knees I was going to do. If he knew how to farm and wanted to stay Hutchinson or not he was the best hope I had. These days I was running mighty short on hope.

He stood. Nearly a foot and a half taller than me I looked up at him. Impressive. I don’t think I’d seen a man as at odds with strength and pain. He was magnificent in that beautiful awkward way. Not that it would mean much to me. I was dead inside and out.

He navigated the steps arms filled with my food.

I reached for the items careful not to touch him. I stuffed what he’d gathered into my other bags, unsure I’d let him in the house.

“Yes, ma’am.” He picked up one of my over filled groceries sacs in one arm. His duffle bag still snug to his back. “I’ve worked in construction the last while. If you like I can provide references.”

“It’s room and board.” The place could use someone handy around. “No strangers in the house.”

“Understood, ma’am.” He nodded.

I had a good feeling about him despite my original reaction to his arrival and his last name. “Where are you from?”

“This county. Not far from here.” Something sad passed through his eyes and vanished.

More of a non-answer but who was I to judge? I gave loads of those.

“Been away a while and kind of need to ease back in,” he added.

I was taking much the same approach to life in general. I opened the door, moved in to the kitchen.

Decker stood on the porch looking in.

“Come in,” I said decided on the matter.

“Yes, ma’am.” He put down his duffle bag at the door. Smart one, I’d give him that. Not assuming my invitation had anything more to do then with asking him to bring the bag inside. He removed his boots.

He placed the groceries sac on the kitchen table with the items he’d been juggling and moved back to the door.

I headed to my SUV and locked up.

Decker waited on the porch outside the house.

Best I level with him. “I know nothing about farming.” Especially not what God’s name I was doing here other than I was stubborn.

He cast his gaze down before meeting mine once more. “I’d reckoned as much Ms. Ross.”

How? What about this situation had told him as much. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

He shook his head.

Odd. Every applicant got real shifty at this moment and made a quick exit. “You want to stay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“It’s settle then.” I walked passed him to the stairs “I’ll show you to your room.”

He removed his boots and followed me.

At the top of the stairs, I turned into the first room on the left. “It’s nothing fancy.”

Decker stared from the door. “It seems to have everything I need, a bed, and light to read.”

I gestured across the hall. “The bathroom.”

“Thank you, Ms. Ross.” He smiled curling up the corners of his pink mouth.

“You’re welcome.” I envied those that could enjoyed life simple pleasures. That time had passed for me. Right, Tyler?

He stepped in towering over me with his expressive frame, eyes filled with an indiscernible expression. The beauty of this young man hitched my breath.

“I’ll let you get settled in and cleaned up.” The jeans and blue plaid long sleeve he wore were clean and tidy in appearance. I just wanted some space from him. From the look of him he couldn’t be much more than twenty-one. “We can start on dinner in half an hour.”

He nodded.

I exited the room with an odd sense of sadness. In the kitchen, I unpacked the groceries. A creak in the floor caught my attention. I’d been staring out the back window. Time had become an abstract concept so I couldn’t tell if moments had passed or the full half hour.

Decker entered hat off. His golden brown locks curled. The clothing screamed cowboy or redneck depending what spin one put on it. The boots and hat sealed the country hick look. That was unfair.

He ran his hand along his head. “May I help?”

I nodded with a smile. So far Decker Hutchinson was a polite gentleman. Not some rough neck hick.

He smiled, started opening the cupboards and found where things belonged then stored them. Obviously I hadn’t put the purchases away.

The silence was heavy as we busied putting the items in their place.

“I was thinking chicken, vegies, and mash potatoes.” I’d been here alone since my sister Ethyl returned to Atlanta a few weeks ago. “Do you have any allergies?”

“No, ma’am.” He shook his head with a grin then asked, “Do you?”

Not me. Tyler and Tyron had. “No.” I wiped the counter.

“I can get started on peeling the potatoes if you like?” he asked.

“That would be fantastic, Decker.” I wondered how long this would last. The ultra-nice, ultra sweet behavior.

This time when he smiled his entire face including his eyes lit up. He grabbed the bag of potatoes. I gave him a knife and bowl for the potatoes to go into and a compost for the skins.

“Thank you.” Perhaps there was more to his helping then wanting to make a good impression.

I started making the seasoning mix to go on the chicken. Better I make small talk otherwise the memories crept in. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.” He placed a potato in the bowl.

Older than I’d guest.

“And yourself ma’am?” He didn’t distract from his task.

Hadn’t anyone taught him it was rude to ask a woman her age. “Thirty-four.”

“Oh.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“I know.” My best years had come and gone. “Ancient.”

“No ma’am,” he said. “I’ve notice a lot of pretty black women often look much younger than they are.”

Pretty? I turned toward him.

“I said that out loud didn’t I?” he asked. His complexion reddened.

I nodded.

“I’m sorry. Is black in correct? Should I use African American?”

I shrugged. “Either.”

“Something else I said bothered you?” he probed evidently concerned he’d miss-stepped. His baritone voice deepened.

I shook my head and spun back to my spices. Pretty didn’t seem like the right word for a widow. Solid or sturdy maybe.

“I should’ve assumed given the fading band line.” His tone one of reflection. “You’ve been married or was.”

The skin appeared a little lighter where my ring had been. Not nearly as much as when I first removed it. Every trace of what had once been fading but me. How had he noticed? I’d finally taken off the ring when I took up residence in this house.

“Was.” I said with a nod.

“I’m prying.” He lowered his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not.” I just wasn’t comfortable with explaining my past. Soon enough it would all be laid out for him. But not today if I could help it.

He rose, stretched his legs, brought the bowl to the sink and rinsed the content. “Is that why you moved here?”

I looked over at him then away unable to fill the vacantness growing inside. I thought I was making progress.

A weight crushed my chest. “Excuse me.” I ran past him, out the screen door with a thud then down the back stairs.

The sun set in the distance casting an orange glow on the horizon.

No tears ever came. But that would be an appropriate response given the circumstances.

Life could be so beautifully cruel.

December:  Chapter 2 Revealed

Chapter 2

Twice now, I’d over stepped with words. I would need to do better, control my natural tendency to dominate, if I intended to stay.  Any moment now, she would asked me to leave and it would be back on the streets, men’s shelter or to bed with a stranger.

Not that I didn’t have money. I could afford to go to a hotel, I just couldn’t manage being alone. For some of us the scariest place was when you were with you, yourself and I, which sounded strange for someone that grew tired of others. I needed them there but didn’t want to interact with most. Most often, I placated my need for a companion with a willing stranger. I bet it wasn’t hard to imagine what I mean by that. For a very long time, I had played life this way but I sense from the moment I’d set eyes on Felicia that would no longer be an option. The how or why I had yet to figure out.

I rinsed the potatoes, filled the bowl with water and set it on the counter.

She’d been out there a few minutes. Did I go after her? Or would that be me continuing to push? I didn’t get women that was clear. Never had and might never.

On the other side of the back window, she leaned against the porch post. Sunlight bathed her in gold. There were women and then there was Felicia Ross. From the moment, I’d laid eyes on her, I’d smiled inside. Tiny as she was her presence drew me in. There had been attraction. Definitely desire. Fire. But there had been something warm—perhaps tender was a better term, I couldn’t be sure as I’d never felt anything like it before…so I struggled to understand it.

Some heartless bastard had likely broken her heart from her reaction moments ago about my referring to the faded ring line.

Ms. Ross’s presence here left me with questions:

How had she come to own and run Crawford land? Land that was stolen from the Hutchisons.

Why was she interested in harvesting wheat? She had no experience in farming. For now we both shared a common goal which was to reap the crop.

How would she react to certain facts about me? My family. My past. My sexual history.

She slowly spun back toward the house. Footsteps drew near. I prepared for an apologetic dismissal. A few words about how this wouldn’t be a good fit and I’d be helpless to stop her or stay. I’d find a way back but that would take time. We might lose this year’s crop if that happened.

The door creaked open, hesitantly she moved in allowing the wood to slam back into the frame.

The impact struck my gut as I waited for her to speak. It wasn’t like me to be this invested, but when I decided to come back, I’d made regaining this land my mission without her I’d fail.

She didn’t move. Rather she stood there motionless pain flashed through her eyes.

It was one thing to suffer and another watch someone else do the same. I knew little of her circumstance but I recognized the deep anguish that marred her face.

“Ms. Ross, I understand if you want me to go,” I offered in spite of myself.

As she jerked her head, back her eyes widened. “I’m thinking of putting a pool in the backyard. A fence would need to be built around it. The time you’d put in above the hours on the farm. I’d pay you for that.”

There would need to be no payment for such an undertaking.

She glanced back outside. “One of those above ground types might be nice. It would need a deck as well. But I’d pay for your time.”

So she didn’t want me to go. Was I misreading her signs?

I let the breath I’d been holding out. “I could help with that.”

“Good.” She stepped around me, washed her hands, slid over and rolled the chicken in the bowl of spices she’d been mixing earlier. No explanation was given for her actions.

“Would you cut the ends off of the green beans?” she asked.

“Sure.” Bossy little thing, she’d be in for a rude awakening soon. Not just yet though. “Where are they?”

“In the fridge.” She shook her hip in the direction of the refrigerator causing her dress to rise exposing more of her thighs. I swallowed and headed over allowing my stride to readjust my pants. Once I set the beans on the table, I cleaned my knife avoiding the overwhelming urge to look in her direction then sat down.

The light through the window hit the top of her dress just so providing a clear outline of her breasts. I shouldn’t be looking at Ms. Ross this way. The woman was giving me a place to stay and I was likely inappropriate admiring her body. If only I knew how to behave around normal people. But I didn’t.

I lowered my gaze and concentrated on the task at hand, the beans. Then I cleaned them and put them in a bowl on the counter.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her bend down to place the chicken in the oven. “Keeps it moist.”

The problem being my mind hadn’t thought of the meaning being related to the chicken.

Potatoes went into a pot filled with water while the beans ended up in a steamer.

“Now that dinner’s underway, I can get you a set of bedding.” She headed for the stairs.

I followed not far behind.

Her strides were short but quick. I hustled to keep up with her. Used to being chased by men?

From a cupboard, she pulled out sheets and a quilt. “This shelf has more sheet sets for you if needed. I do laundry on Sunday. If you have your stuff down by then I can wash it with mine. If not you’re going to need to do your own.”

I nodded. That was fair enough.

She handed me the sheets. “I’ll call when dinner is ready.” This was the second time she’d banished me to ‘my room’ sense she’d agreed for me to be there. Over the next few days I’d put an end to it. For the moment I’d let it slip.

“Thank you, Ms. Ross for everything.” None of the other locals would take a chance on me and likely neither would she if she knew my past.

She paused as though she were about to say something but then headed back down the stairs.

Rhythm and blues music muffled through the floors.

I made the bed then pulled out the contents from my bag. There was a hamper in the corner, which I placed my dirty clothing in—one day’s worth.

I put the little I owned in the drawers. Hid my handgun between the mattress and box spring. My skin magazines went under the nightstand by the bed.

Like her the house smelt fresh and clean.

I sat at the foot of the bed.

Ms. Ross was an attractive woman. Not unable to get men if she were so inclined. Yet she was alone in this house looking to harvest one of the counties prize harvests, Soft Red Winter wheat herself and a hand. I hoped she’d believe me when I told her that was not possible. We were going to need help and we were both short on those we could call onto assist.

At the diner in Anthony, I’d over heard some of the locals give her a year before she cut her losses and run. When I’d seen her go into the super market I hadn’t got the impression she ran from much. Though she wasn’t what I expected. Not just that she was black but had a great body with a pretty face. The way they had spoken of her, I’d imagine she was some hard up case. She was anything but.

Pretty brown eyes. No makeup with smooth flawless skin. The curves of her body likely able to endure a sadist needs.  For all I knew she’d run, I had to play vanilla. But my mind wanted her tied up, gagged and on all fours—face down, ass up.

I was hard again. If I could jump in the shower and get off, I’d be better company less edgy. The moment she’d bent down on her knees to collect the rogue content of the bag her breasts had swung beneath her. I’d wanted to unzip my pants and slide into her mouth. I could start gently with her building her tolerance to my cock deep down her throat. Those lips of hers were meant to please.

I rushed down the steps to find her in the kitchen dancing, hips pumping back and forth. I didn’t need that image rattling around in my brain.

“Ms. Ross,” I said to get her attention.

She startled, again.

I had a bad habit of that. Yet her skittish reaction further aroused me. “I’m sorry,” I said though I wasn’t. Rather further turned on.

She brought her hand to her heart feeling her increased rate. “Please don’t be.”

I wanted to place my fingers between her breasts to sense the accelerated beats. “I’m going to grab a quick shower before dinner if that’s alright with you?” I asked which was uncommon behavior for me, but given that I was still building a comfort level between us the concession was a small price. I desperately wanted to push her down on the floor mount her and bury my cock in her. I doubted my urge would diminish unless I took care of myself.

“Of course.” She smiled. “The towels are in the cupboard next to the shower.”

“Great.” I cast my gaze away from hers to escape the pull. “Thank you.”

I hurried to the second floor, adjusting my erection. After selecting a change of clothing I went into the bathroom and started the shower.

Warm water ran down my body. Every cell responded to the slick feel rushing over me.

I wrapped my hand around my cock and clenched my fist sliding along the length.  The image her mouth wrapped around my shaft swallowing every inch to the back of her throat took shape. I pumped my hips in tandem with my stroke.

“That’s it,” I gritted my teeth resting my head against the cold tile. Be a good little slut take my cock.

I wanted to cream her face and mouth with my come and watch her lick it up. My shaft pulsed in my grip. With little effort, I jerked with the first gush of my climax. My ejaculate shot onto the porcelain. Water droplets broke down the fluid washing the evidence of my deviance down the drain.

In the shower was a bar of soap, which I lathered into suds and cleaned up. A two in one shampoo and conditioner on the rack hanging from the showerhead promised to alleviate dandruff. Surprisingly not an issue I faced. I rubbed the liquid in my hair strands and ears then rinsed.

I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around my waist.

Best I not rush the discovery phase between us along. Piece by piece I’d unravel her. I dressed up refreshed from the shower. I hung my towel up to dry before heading down stairs.

Ms. Ross sat at the table staring off into the vast expanse of space one could create in their mind. Why did she vanish there was the question?

The oven beeped. As though she were in a trance she rose went over and opened the door. Steam came from within, she leaned back, put on a mitt and retrieved the chicken placing it on the counter. She drained the potatoes. Added milk, butter, sour cream then she mashed while sprinkling in salt and pepper, which made me hard. I’d just alleviated myself. What was with me around her? How could something so wholesome turn me on?

She hadn’t noticed or sensed my presence yet. I didn’t move not to alert or frighten her given she was handling hot food.

The table was set for two across from one another.

When she turned toward my direction, I moved as though I were just arriving.

She stepped back sucking in a deep breath. “You’re a stealthy one aren’t you?”

For the most part I was. But she’d been distracted. “My bad.” I attempted a disarming smile, which could sometimes result in a cocky smirk.  “I’ll try to make more noise.”

“Thanks.” She forced a shaky smile. “Dinner is ready.”

“Perfect timing on my part.” I flashed a grin that implied on all fronts including scaring her.

We sat across from each other.

“Smells fantastic.” I hadn’t eaten home cooked food since I was in my early teens.

“Would you like to say grace?” she asked raising her gaze to mine.

This I hadn’t expected. She was a church-going woman. This could complicate things.  Another practice, I hadn’t done since my youth.

It wasn’t in my nature to turn down taking the lead when offered. But what did I know of praying. Something, I stopped doing when my mother had died.

I thought back to her words… and began, “Lord, Creator and Life-giver, Bless this food to our use, and us to your service, make us grateful for all your mercies, and mindful of the needs of others. Amen.” Odd how it all came back to me as though I’d never stopped.

“Amen.” She smiled at me with thoughtful examination.

“My mother’s words.” They were just that to me an involuntary repetition of a memory.

Some ugliness could be revealed hidden behind a veil but beauty could not be displayed without exposing the narrator.  That was a philosophy I had lived by. Do not show others your true self. Be cautious of showing them the good it speaks more to your nature than the bad. By sharing of my mother with her I’d broken that rule.

“Was she a woman of faith?” she asked with a peak of interest, one I wouldn’t feed. Already, I had shared too much.

I nodded, picking up my fork. To avoid further questions on the topic I didn’t wish to speak of despite having been the one to open this can of warms, I turned my attention to the food.

The potatoes and beans were smeared in a cheesy butter sauce. “Delicious.”

“Thank you.” She grinned while clearing the content of her fork with her lips.

A comfortable silence was broken by the crackling of thunder. Lightning lit the darkening evening sky.

“I’ll tidy the dishes after dinner,” I said. It seemed only fair given she’d done most of the preparation for the meal and I’d have a chance to have a look around.

With a curt nod, she finished the bit in her mouth.

This would likely be a good time to move our working relationship in the direction I thought we should head into. “Tomorrow I’d like us to sit down and go over the planting schedule, seed purchase, and any other specifics we need to see to in the next week or so.”

“Sounds good,” she said. There was nothing defensive about her reaction.

At the moment, she was being very accommodating. “What time do you get up?”

“Seven.”

Was that supposed to be funny? “Have you noticed behavior issues with the animals?”

Her eyes widened as though something had come together for her. “You mean like the horse biting me? The chickens attacking me? That sort of thing?”

I hid a smirk. Probably not as well as I should. “Look, I’m going to be blunt. If you want something else this might not be a good fit.”

“You’re the first hand to make it into the house so please give it to me straight.” She nodded resolved to hear what I had to say. How she’d take it would be an altogether different matter.

“You got what you deserve.” I probably could have eased my words a little.

Her face reflected shock.

“They are likely used to eating around five or earlier.” It wasn’t like animals had the same ability to communicate that we did. “Think of the mood you’d be in if someone held back your meal two to three hours.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “If they eat around five I’d need to be up around four to be out there by then.”

“It shouldn’t take you an hour to get ready to do morning rounds. They have no interest in your appearance just that they eat.”

She grimaced.

Good on me for scoring points with the boss early on in this.

“Point taken.” Her tone was defensive but that was to be expected given what I’d just dropped on her.

We finished our meal in silence. She avoided making eye contact. I did my best not to push it.

The uneasiness between us only grew as she dried and clanked the dishes into the cupboards. I wouldn’t apologize for telling her exactly what I said. I just wouldn’t. The décor didn’t fit her exactly but I couldn’t figure out why.

“I’m going to retire to work on a few things for us to discuss in the morning,” I said.

“Sure.” There was hesitation in her voice like, she knew what would come of that. “If you need access to the wireless network, name CrawfordHW and the password is Z@rePhath.”

“Great. Thank you.” There was something familiar that I couldn’t place about the password. A hidden meaning perhaps. “I’ll be here by six am.”

“Right.” She huffed obviously angry that she believe I would get to sleep in.

Farm life wasn’t easy work, which meant I would not be in bed then either.

Nor could I allow her to stew in that belief crating further tension between us. “I should be back from checking the soil and state of the irrigation by then.”

Her shoulders slumped aware that she had nothing to hold over me.

“Good night, Ms. Ross,” I said while finishing rinsing the sink and turned the water off.

“Sleep well, Decker.” She waved me off playing up her indifference. Though that told me, she was far from it.

This was going to be an interesting few months if I didn’t get myself fired, tonight, tomorrow or the day after.

February:

Chapter 3

 

I stretched out in the bed staring at the stars and moonlight through the window. Cool sheets bit into my skin. The stars were never this bright in the city.

Sleep and I were at odds. I was losing the battle of course. My own mind was the enemy. I wish I could sleep, hours, days, weeks or even months. But I could hardly pull off a few hours of sleep and when I did manage to slumber I wish I hadn’t.

The clock by the bed read one minute past twelve. I’d been here for two hours doing everything not to think of my old life. The one I’d built for over a decade.

The one now gone.

In a fraction of a second everything changed. I’d always thought those words cliché until I’d lived them. Instant love was much the same until I’d experienced it myself. This depthless people encountered… I never believed myself to be shallow but how many such people did?

Muffled shouting came from across the hall. Decker?

Perhaps he was on the phone. Hadn’t seen one so far though… wasn’t everyone in the world but me ‘connected’.

Or… maybe I wasn’t the only one who fought my demons in my sleep.

Despite Decker’s lecture, I liked him. I could work with him. For no reason other than my gut told me to, I trusted him. Not with my secrets but the farm. Something inside me whispered he was perhaps more invested in its success than I was.

More shouting came from his room. Alright, he sounded angry now.

I’d get no sleep if it didn’t end, so I sat up pushing my feet into my chilly slippers. Then I grew very still. What was I doing?

Shouting came with some rumbles this time. What on earth was going on in there?

“Decker?” I called to him crossing the dim hall. Light came from the window by the stairs and cast on the wood floor.

I was at the moment in a scary film where I should run. Call the police but I’d do none of those. People who valued life, their own life should. I wasn’t one of those people.

The door was closed and no light shone from beneath.

Louder, he protested.  The man would likely put the fear of God in anyone and yet I heard him haunted by the past. Had the mind been designed this way to ensure even the strongest of us weren’t infallible. Sure every idea I had about him where calculations I’d made in our brief meetings earlier but I was rarely wrong.

I turned the nob, opening slightly. He tossed and turned in his blankets. Grown men could crush your soul when they revealed their vulnerable beauty.

“Decker,” I said in a whisper not to increase his anxiety any further.

“No. No more.” He pleaded with a force holding him face down. His arms and legs flailing to get free.

A pain struck my chest.

I couldn’t leave him like this. With measured steps, I drew closer careful not the startle him as he did me. I placed my hand on his shoulder.

He grabbed me and flung me across the room into the wall as if I where pillow.

The impact knocked my body into the wall.

That should teach you to reach out to strangers in pain. Tyler would be impressed.

Decker sat up. The covers slid down his t-shirt covered upper body. He opened his eyes narrowing them to focus on me.

“Oh, shit.” He leap out of bed in fitted boxers. The outline of his semi-erect state unconcealed. “Did I?”

“No, I just through myself to the other side of the room for dramatic effect.” I rubbed my head. “Did it work?”

“You think this is funny?” His expression turned stern. There was something in the way he could one eighty on a dim that unnerved and arouse me. Not something I’d widely share. “I could have hurt you.”

Because I hadn’t realized that was a possibility. “I’m pretty sure you did.”

At that moment, I happen to noticed that my nighty was at my waist. My panties were fully exposed and I didn’t have a bra on. That would have been an explainable delay. It sounded like you were suffering but I stopped to put my bra on just in case. Hardened nipples pressed to the fabric and his gaze traveled over me. Exposed in more ways than I wanted to be I pulled my knees to my chests.

“Do you really think I didn’t consider the consequences of putting a bright neon sign that I was alone and looking for a field hand might attract the wrong sort?” I laughed. The man thought me dump. I was many things but below average IQ wasn’t one of them.

“I think you hit you head harder than you realize,” he watched me, intently likely gaging my reaction.

I let him help me up over to the bed. Using the movement to mask my covering up. Gently, with his fingers he moved my hair around the back of my head. Shivers covered my skin causing my nipples to harden more.

“A large goose egg but the skin didn’t break.”

“Thank you, Doctor Decker.”

When he didn’t laugh I lifted my gaze. He arched an eyebrow.

His reprimand confused me. “What?” I asked defensively.

“I’m sorry, Bluebell.” He gathered my hands into his. The gesture seemed too intimate. As did the nickname. “I haven’t had a nightmare like that one in many years. It must be my being back here.”

The mix of his revelation, vulnerability and the apology jumbled my emotions. I tugged for my hands back but he didn’t release me.

“I thought I was past it all.” Many of us suffered from that delusion.

Though he spoke it wasn’t to me more a statement of reflection.

He pulled my night gowned up. Despite my attempt to resist, which seemed to go unnoticed by him. He exposed my back and hiss in a breath. The warmth of his hand made contact with my spine.

I flinched. Though my body purred at the wave of pain moving through me. Slick heat coated my panties.

His examining stare widened with surprise.

“I’m fine.” I stood allowing my nighty to cover me.

He grabbed my wrist, wrapped his other arms around my waist and drew me back toward him. “Are you?”

“Yes.” I nodded for extra emphasis unsure why I was even having this discussion with him.

“So you aren’t embarrassed by your arousal from pain?” he asked with a muted expression.

I froze. How could he possibly know that. He didn’t. He was guessing. Wasn’t he?

“I’m not.” If I tried to flee he would know I was frightened of who I was. Tyler had taught me to embrace that part of me. I faced Decker though he sat on the bed we were at eye level.

“You’re not which aroused or embarrassed?” He examined my every tiny movement forming yet more detailed assumptions about me.   “Because I’m interested to find out which lie you want to cling to.”

I had to decide on an answer. Given he knew that some people were turned on by pain what would be the harm in being honest. I disliked lying anyhow. “I’m not embarrassed that I’m aroused by pain.”

“Brave.” He smirked. “I knew I liked you.”

It was my turned to arch my eyebrow at him. “Add to that a stranger’s touch and voila, I’m hot mess.”

That wiped the smile from the corner of his mouth. “So you believe that once you get to know me. I won’t have the same effect on you?”

His thoughtful expression baffled me but I shrugged anyhow. My inner muscles clenched in disagreement. What did my body know? Nothing, it was simply starved for touch.

He wrapped his hand around my neck cradling the nape careful of bruises, leaned in and brushed my ear with his lips.

A moan trembled through me.

“I have ways to make you hot that you haven’t even fathomed yet,” he groaned. His voice was so husky that the rumble vibrated through me. “Let’s put your theory to the test.”

Had he just said that or hard I imagined it?

He sat up right. “Having someone lay next to me when I sleep helps chase the nightmares away.” The delivery wasn’t vulnerable but the plea in his eyes was.

My insides turned to mush. I couldn’t lay with this man in his bed for God sakes I didn’t even know him. A seed of doubt paused the real question, why not?

“I promise in exchange for your company to only give not receive until you beg otherwise.” He gathered me up.

Despite the part of me that thought to resist I didn’t. It would be our secret. He laid me down fanning my curls out.

“When not on this bed we’ll pretend. Cary on as though nothing happened. Never speak of it. We’re simply acquaintances. You’re the owner and I’m the manager of the farm. A silent advisor in the public eye. Nothing will change between us.”

I rested my head on the pillow. He wrapped his arms around me. I held on to him. His chest pressed to my sore back. I groaned in discomfort. The heat between my thighs grew slicker. The feel of his erection against my ass caused my clit to throb. I gasped. He brought the covers over us.

The pull of sleep and hunger of arousal simmered.  My eyes heavy with slumber slid closed. I rested in the comfort of his muscular arms. My breathing deepened.

He slipped his hands between my thighs. A pool of moisture rushed between my legs.

Did I want this? Would I be okay with what we shared in the morning light? I needed this. Which wasn’t a good answer but rather a selfish one.

I rubbed my ass against his groined in acceptance of what was to come.

He ground the firming length of him to the crack. “Felicia, ask me to give you an orgasm.” The words weren’t a question but rather an order.

One that would determine what we would share from this point on. Though his request was unfair I wanted to comply. “Give me an orgasm, Kansas please?”

He breathed out a laugh as he pressed two fingers to my wet panties and parted my labia. The cool moist fabric touched my clit.

I jerked into him.

 

April:

Chapter 4

Every cell in my body grew taut at the delicate feel of her in my arms. Her willingness to do as told further fueled my desire for her. She had no way of knowing my need. Though I played a delicate balancing act. Such play always was. Especially with someone still healing.

Soft gasps escaped her echoing all around me. The hairs at the back of my neck raised. I was risking too much with her. Yet I wanted to take it further still.

“Ask me, put your hand inside my panties and rub my pussy until I come for you.” I was forcing her to request my touch. Making her voice her desires seemed to fuel her sexual appetite, increase her arousal. She’d already mentioned her stranger fantasy.

“Kansas,” she moaned breathless.

The nickname was growing on me.

“Please…” She shivered. “Put your hand in my panties then rub my pussy until I come all over your fingers.”

Of all the words, she could have used she added a please. This spoke of her nature. At least the aspects. I was picking up on. I’d wanted her the moment I’d laid eyes on her.

The tip of my cock grew wet from the excitement of her request. It had been a long time since anyone had manage to arouse me to this level. Over the last six months, I’d struggled to remain sexually interested in those around me.

I slid my hand beneath the band of her white cotton bikini panties, past the coarse curls to the slick swell of moist flesh for the first time. I’d wondered for a long time about this experience. A woman in my arms. The feel of her skin. Her moist arousal beneath my fingers. In all the years, nothing I’d imagine even came close to her. My sweet bluebell.

She thrust her hips to meet my touch. The wanton little thing, bucked to increase the stimulation. The allusive fragrance between her thighs filled my senses stirring my hunger to dominate her. Never should, I let that part of me surface with her. But I knew it was inevitable. She was a praying woman and I was no believer. Despite the signs of her desire for a firm hand. And already I lured her into my bed.

Tenderly, I strummed the silky smooth folds circling the rise of her clit. Teasing the apex of her pleasure skimming over then pressing into the swollen labia around.

As though an instrument her body yielded to my touch evoking a sweet melody.

I brought my drenched fingers to my mouth needing to know the taste of her. I yearned to consume every drop of her—to have her become part of me. My slick fingers coated in her scent engulfed me.

I wanted to burry my face between her legs, then my cock before taking her ass.  But wouldn’t—couldn’t. Even this was too soon and would have consequences for us both. No matter how long, I pushed them back. Eventually we would be forced to face our actions this night.

She watched as I licked her flavor from my fingers then once again rubbed her. If I entered her this night the guilt after would outweigh the pleasure we’d shared. More moisture coated the area.

Her lips remained parted as she moaned and panted. My cock longed to enter her fast and hard. My tongue ached to invade and taste her lips while she surrendered beneath me.

With my other hand, I took hold of my cock and stroked. Fast and furious, I whacked.

Her cries grew louder. Her movements lost focus as did my stimulation. Our bodies ground in tandem. The intense rhythm of our shared enjoyment only sped. Together we raced to an end.

She stilled than gushed her climax onto my fingers. My own release followed with explosive force into my boxers and coated my fingers.

We lay breathing in the cool air. Our clammy flesh still touching.

I smiled and gathered her close to me. She did not pull away. There was no way for her to know the meaning of this experience for me. Never had I touched a woman in this way. Nor had I enjoyed the pleasure of a woman’s body. Though I thought of them a lot, I struggled with the realities of my past and how a woman may react to the truth.  People judged and put labels. My reaction to those behaviors was less than favorable so I avoided such situations.

“Thank you, Kansas.” She relaxed into my chest and the bed.

“You’re welcome.” I whispered to her ear.

She turned her gaze to meet mine.

I brushed her hair from her face and stroked her cheek. “Thank you, bluebell.”

Whatever she searched for in my eyes ended.

Her stare cast away and she rested in the pillow. “You’re welcome.”

My life circumstances had hardened me. Some broke under the weight of the things I had survived. She might give me, what I always wanted but never had. I stroked the small curls glued to her temple by her perspiration. Despite only having met her hours earlier this exchange was beyond anything I had ever known.

The contrast of my pigment to hers held beauty but should likely be reversed. I was the darkness and she was light. Wasn’t that some hick redneck shit for me to believe that.

Her breathing settled as sleep carried her off. I lay with some many strangers in my bed their faces had faded into a blur but the same would not be true of her. The lean yet petite form of her against me already stirred a renewed hunger. A desire I’d needed to push a side. Shallow breaths caused her chest to rise and fall.

Reluctantly I lifted the covers to her shoulders. Now deep in slumber, I could unit us physical—entering her—bonding us. That would make me–no man.

The moon peaked through heavy gray clouds.

Every sense was saturated with the small bluebell tucked in my arms lolling me to rest.

“You’ll be mine.” I would infect her with all that was me. until I or madness owned her. I hadn’t the right to claim her. Not without her knowledge and yet I had. I wasn’t sorry for it either.

Safety, comfort, and warmth something I knew little of surrounded me. A peace descended upon me.

When I opened my eyes, the small soft frame cocooned to mine. My body was already aware of her presence. I was filled with an urge to own her through the possession of her body. If I had ever slept so well I did not recall.

For now, I would leave her with the ability to pretend nothing had transpired. I picked her up careful not to wake her, carried her across the hall to her bed, and covered her in blankets.

The clock by her bed read six minutes past four. More than a full day of work awaited me daily over the next week if we had any hope of pulling off planting in time.

I stood in the door frame watching her settle alone in the vast bed. Had it always been just her in that bed or had he laid here with her. I loathed the idea she’d shared herself with him as she had with me. This man had pledged vows then broken her heart. Could he return? Would she want him back? I’d let no fool attempt to reclaim what was mine—her. Even if she didn’t want me. I wouldn’t permit it. She deserved someone that would weather storms at her side.

Our earlier encounter left me messy and in need of another shower. I gathered up a change of clothing and jumped in. With such ease she’d ceded to my command. Resistance would come though soon from her and with vengeance of this I was sure. She would push, yank me back only to shove me away again. The lesson between us would come the hard way. But I wouldn’t subject her to the violence of my predatory-self. No matter the strength she exhibited. No matter the games she played.

Water descended over my body reminding me of the smooth feel of her beneath my fingers. Women in porn sounded like ox. Animals. Every sound from her had been delicate and sweet.  Hunger for my bluebell filled my shaft with desire. I would part her legs and lick her until she released her climax on my lips. I squeezed my shaft in my hand then pumped up and down. I would consume her, spill my seed in her. My body tensed as I shot my load into the bottom of the tub. Water washed away any trace of my release. In a matter of hours I grew fixated on a woman I’d only just met, which might put my own goals at risk.

 May:

Chapter 5

Tyler lay across from me, cupped my cheek, and traced my lips with his thump. A warm tingle moved through me.

Sunlight glinted in his hazel eyes. My body stirred with hunger–one awakened by him. Since we’d returned last week from Easter weekend with my parents, he’d been different.

“I love you, Felicia Hannah Ross, marry me…be mine forever?” He drew closer to me and stared into my eyes.

“You’re just saying that to get me to sleep with you!” We’d been dating nearly a year. Despite my strong values, Tyler who had his share of women didn’t push the ground rules, I’d established. Not from a lack of desire on either of our parts.

He grinned broadly. “You did just sleep with me,” his southern twang caused wet heat in my panties.

I raised an eyebrow. Though, he had me on a technicality.

“You snore too!” he teased.

I was mortified. “I can’t believe you!”

“And it’s the sweetness sound I’ve ever heard.” He kissed my forehead.

“I do not snore, Tylor Ulysses Crawford. And you’d better take that back if you know what’s good for you.”

“You’re beautiful when offended.”

I rolled my eyes at him and shifted away.

He tucked in close behind me. “I do want to make love to you, on our wedding night, make babies with you, and grow old together. Be my wife, Felicia.”

The warm from him surged through me. I turned back toward him and he held a velvet box with a ring.

I gasped.

“Remember when your father and I were out on the deck for some time?”

I nodded. Recalling that I’d wondered what they had been talking about.

“I asked your father for your hand. He said I wasn’t the son in-law he’d pictured but the right one for his baby girl if she would have me.”

“Really?” I asked him. My father had not been happy when he’d first found out about me seeing Tyler. My seeing anyone would be an issue as the baby of the family. Add to that a white Kansas born farmer who wanted to be a cop and I had a real mess on my hands trying to explain what I saw in him to my parents. I’d convinced myself I was bringing him home to find out how my family would react to him to help me decide where we stood. But I’d been more invested with him graduating in a few weeks and my having another year to go then I let on. Our make or break time was coming.

“Yes, really, sweetpea.” He nodded.

When he called me that my insides turned to mush. I had to focus. “But you don’t have a job and I’m not done school.” I’d expected another year would pass if we made it through him finishing and me still being in school before we would discuss the possibility.

“As a matter of fact, I passed all the recruitment requirements for the Wichita Police.”

“Congratulations.” I hugged him. Though, a job here meant giving up returning to Chicago and kept us close to Anthony where the Crawford’s lived. I gathered they didn’t approve of our relationship though Tyler never said much on the subject.

He held me rubbing my back. “Felicia, when you brought me home to meet your parents, I thought—I thought it meant—Christ, have I misjudged your feelings?”

I sighed.

He huffed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to use the Lord’s name in vain.”

Tyler had gone to church growing up and believed in God but his faith…appeared to waver.

“I’d like to pray on it.” The disappointment in his eyes pained me. I loved this man but was he the one God wanted for me.

The annoying beep of my alarm pulled me from another nightmare—memory of the past. Even when I lay next to another man Tyler still held a firm hand over me. Would I ever purge him?

Rest had evaded me so long that my body ached. I reached to hit the snooze button allowing my eyes to adjust. When I realized I was back in my room, I jumped up. Covers clutched to my body, I wondered if last night had been a dream. A nightmare. Though the throb of pain in my back protested. The goose egg at the back of my head confirmed, I had indeed been tossed to the wall.

Slick moisture between my legs pointed to more than a conversation after the incident.

I was a wanton sinful woman. Not the one I’d been when I’d met Tyler. I’d thought my role would be to lead him to the light but rather he’d widened the ocean of distance between myself and the creator. It wasn’t fair to blame him. I’d allowed all of it.

I lifted the covers to find blood on the sheets and my panties. This hadn’t happened since I was a teen. With effort I got out of bed, stripped the covers, and my undergarments.

The animals might not care what I looked like but I did. Right now, I was a mess. I showered in the en-suit before dressing. His room was vacant when I passed to go downstairs.

Coffee was brewed. Nice. I filled my thermos, layered on the clothing, and headed out.  The sun had yet to rise. The dark sky had an icy grip on pre-dawn. My breath misted in the cool morning.

The farm animals weren’t for cash. The Crawford’s kept enough for food. I just didn’t have it in me to send them to the slaughter. It was easier to eat those I hadn’t named at the supermarket.  Once the pigs and the chickens were fed, I collected the eggs. I put them in the house to use later then headed to the barn.

The horses were the most difficult part of my day. Likely why I’d put feeding them off until later. Tyler had taught me to ride.

He rode up from the distance. Hat tilted. It had all been a nightmare. One I finally woke up from. I ran. My heart thundered in my chest, wobbly legs carried me.

The brim of his hat lifted and I saw Decker.

Everything around me including the earth shook. I couldn’t catch my breath.

I rushed toward his approach.

He slowed and dismounted. “Are you alright?”

I ignored his question. “What are you doing?”

“Well good morning to you too.” He frowned.

I stopped.

“Exactly, what I said, I would do which is assess the condition of the land and irrigation.”

“I meant with Fitz?”

“Who?” He cocked his head.

“The horse!” I pointed.

“It was the most sensible way to get there. The young one–”

“Sheffield is the youngest.” I crossed my arms.

“Right, so Sheff isn’t well trained.” Sheff was wild. “And the mare—“

“Temperamental, Temp for short.”

“She wouldn’t let me near her. She’s carrying.”

What? How did he know that?

“Fitz as you called him was the only viable option.”

“You can’t ride Fitzgerald.” I took the reins from his hand which he released.

Decker’s jaw clenched. “What is this really about?”

“What this?” I placed my hand on my hip.

“Your tantrum.”

Oh no he didn’t just say that to me. “Tantrum?”

“The horse, Fitz, was his, wasn’t it?”

What on God’s green earth was he referring to? “Who?”

“Don’t play games with me Felicia. The horse belong to him.”

Tylor had helped to deliver Fitz, which I guess kind of made him his. I turned toward Decker.

“The man that put the ring on your finger.” He took my hand into his. “The ring no longer there.” His thumb past over the hear flesh that had once held the gold band.” The same man that isn’t here anymore.”

I pulled my hand back and slapped him. The smack caused Fitz to stir. Decker placed a hand on the area I’d struck and rubbed. His stare burrowed into me. Fitz used his head to create a barrier between us. Decker gently stroked the horse’s snout and whispered into his ear which calmed him while his eyes held me frozen in place.

He advanced.

I shriveled back. With his hand he reached over, he gathered the reins from me then gathered me into his arms.

I struggled against his hard chest.

“I’m sorry that you’re in pain,” his voice lowered.

Despite my resistance he held on. Tears brimmed. I didn’t want his words or his arms. Nor his solid chest. Yet I needed them desperately. What did that say about me?

“I shouldn’t have pushed yet.” He tightened his grip on me.

What did he mean by yet? Again I shoved him. “Let me go.”

“I will.” His voice was even–unaffected by me. “But only once your past the anger and hurt and have calmed down.”

Fitz remained still next to us held firmly by Decker. Either he’d sensed the man meant me no harm or was now loyal to him.

I settled wanting him to let go off me. A few moments past in silence as he stroked the back of my head careful of the goose egg. Every touch there sent waves of heat through me.

I looked up at him.

He released me, stepped back with Fitz, and secured him in his stalled.

Unlike other days, where the animals were agitated the entire time I was in there. All was calm.

He walked away. “I’ll need an office. The room at the back of the barn would do nicely with your permission of course, Ms. Ross.”

That would keep him out of the house when working. “You may use it.” Already I was beginning to think I’d need the reprieve that space would provide.

“Thank you.” He tilted his hat. “And, please let me know how I will be checking the perimeters tomorrow.” Then he exited.

I’d overreacted. There was no doubt about him riding Fitz. It was the right thing. I didn’t know what had come over me. Anxiety about our tryst.

What we had shared last night, should not have happened. Two years without being touched had made me reckless. That wasn’t true. Others had offered but try as they may I knew their interest had been their own. Decker had known intimate parts of me without me having to tell him. Parts it had taken me a long and difficult year to share with Tyler after we’d said our, I dos. Our marriage had been in trouble the moment the honeymoon had ended.

Decker had pleasured me and seen to his own needs. The sound of him jerking off as he touched me was what had brought my climax on so suddenly. For a fraction of a second when he’d reached into his boxer’s, I’d thought he’d break his word. But he started stroking himself. Deep groans intensified. And I was done for.

Already, I wanted him again. I knew I shouldn’t have let what we shared happen.

The nightmare this morning then the sight of him appearing as Tyler had so many times before had messed with me. I needed to do a better job at guarding my emotions with Decker. This was getting messy fast.

I rushed out of the barn to find the Sheriff’s cruiser parked by the house. No sign of Decker. The sun barely peaked over the horizon.

Kenny exited the vehicle.  “Mrs. Crawford.”

“It’s Ms. Ross.” I corrected. But Ross meant nothing here. Crawford on other hand said it all. The cop’s widow. Pride crop of the county.

“Right,” he said and bowed his head. “Ms. Ross.”

I was one of his communal responsibilities—law enforcement looked after their own. No matter if I wanted the help or not. Though, I suspected his interest was more than that given the way his eyes moved over me.

Best I nudge him to get to his point for stopping by. “How can I assist you Sheriff Langdon?” I headed to the porch.

“I was wondering how your search for a field hand has been going.” He followed me but stopped at the steps.

“Well, someone just started.” I nodded. “I should probably make a trip in and take down the sign.” I hated going into Anthony but it couldn’t always be avoided. Despite my attempts at stocking up on supplies. Inevitably I ran out of something or realized I’d forgotten an item all together.

“When I went in this morning it wasn’t on the community board. I assumed you’d removed it.” He scratched his head.

Might my new farm manager have taken the ad down? “Oh, right. It slipped my mind. Yesterday when I went in I took it down.” What had me lying? And it came out so easy too.

“Does the person have a name?” he asked.

If not Decker who might have taken it down. “Decker Hutchinson.” If so why?

His eyes widened with shock. “The Hutchinson boy?”

I’d always disliked the use of that word in reference to a man as a form of disrespect. To me it always said more about the one using it than the one that it was being use about. “Must be one and the same.”

“I wish you had come to me, Ms. Ross.” He placed his foot on the first step and removed his hat.

As kind as he was trying to be I’d wanted no part in it. Especial not with a cop. “Why?”

“That boy’s trouble.” He frowned.

And I was to take his word for it of course. Decker was no boy. At least from what I’d experienced. “Thank you for the warning.”

“But you’re not going to heed it?” he asked.

“Perhaps I’m not making how weary I am of everyone as noticeable as I believe, I am.” One day no matter how stand offish I behaved toward the Sheriff, he was going to try to get into my pants. I didn’t look forward to that day.

“When folks find out he’s back things might get ugly.” His expression turned.

I didn’t like small towns. This was much of why. “Good thing we have you then to keep law and order.” I wasn’t one to be told who I should associate with. Never had, never would. Even when my father first found out about Tyler and thought it was a bad idea I didn’t listen.

“I need for you to understand how important your harvest is to the folks in this county.”

But none of them wanted to step up and help. Not even him.

“He let the Hutchinson land which was the top in the state fall into ruins.”

They appeared content to allow the same to happen to the Crawford land.

“If not for the Crawford’s stepping up into first place, we’d be second in the state. A lot of people are counting on you to do right by us. ”

Sure they were. Because they were lining up to help. They rather force me to sellout. None of them knew just how stubborn I was.

“I appreciate your candor Sheriff Langdon.” I smiled. The man thought he was looking out for me.

He smiled back and put on his hat. “I’d better head back into town. You watch out for yourself and let me know of any trouble. No matter how small it might seem.”

“Of course.” I nodded.

He got back into the cruiser and headed down the long dirt driveway.

Decker appeared at the side of the house away from the driveway. “A friend of yours?”

I went inside.

 

 

2 Responses to The Book Experiment

  1. gina says:

    I like the storyline but it seems rushed into the sexual side of their relationship.they have just met to have a 34 year old black women lay in bed with s 23 year old white man she only met that morning tossed plausibility out the window for me.Up to the point of her acknowledging her being turned on by pain I was hooked.I think there should be more insight into her background history before the two get down and dirty.

  2. Kyra says:

    I kinda agree with Gina the comment before me I think this chapter was hot hot HOT! But I think whatever romance they have with benefit if we get more of a back story from both of them. They are both two birds with clipped wings trying to learn how to fly I think they would b a little more antsy about intimacy with a stranger because of that so it’s more believable that they would establish a mental connection before a physical because they both are gun shy maybe wait at least a week not 24 hours before their first tryst although I love the idea that he set the rules that he’s only going to pleasure her and not take that next step just yet any who great chapter! None the less

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