AlexI opened eyes I didn’t realize had been closed. I stared into his light blue gaze as he rose over me. My hands slid up his forearms and over his biceps, rubbing over the skin that was hot under my touch. He was just as affected as I was.His cock slid over my slick pussy before he carefully nudged forward, breaking through the folds and finding home. He pushed once, and our eyes locked as he joined his body with mine. I felt a tear slide down the side of my face as he pushed himself all the way inside my welcoming body.“Oh, Damion,” I breathed his name before my eyes slid closed and my body finally gave in to the need that had been holding me in a firm grip since his kisses started.“That’s it,” he coaxed, kissing the tip of my nose as my body arched and bucked under his. “That’s my girl. All mine. You’re mine.”I opened my eyes and found him staring at me from just a few inches away. He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me until I could no longer think at all. I only felt. I
AlexThree months laterI carried the big bowl of homemade potato salad to the back patio and placed it on the table. Betty popped her head up from where she was curled up on her bed in the corner and out of the way. She would get her leftover treats after the dinner, even though I told Wayne he shouldn’t feed her people food. My favorite men in the world were sitting around the table, chatting and talking about the early fall. I smiled at each of them before going back into the kitchen of Wayne’s house to grab the tray of burger toppings.We had driven down to spend the weekend with him before school started and our schedule got a lot less flexible. Damion had offered to buy plane tickets, but I couldn’t do it. I actually liked the drive. We all got to hang out and just talk. There was no escape when you were locked in a car with someone.My life was good. Better than good. The final puzzle pieces of my life had slid into place. I felt settled. I didn’t feel the need to run. I hadn’t
AlexHe winked at me. “I was thinking I might get me a little place in Montana.”I felt tears well in my eyes. I fanned my face. “Wayne, that would be amazing.”“Yes, it would,” Damion chimed in. “We’ll have a house built for you on the farm.”“Damion!” I blurted out.“Oh no, I can’t ask you to do that,” Wayne said.“You didn’t ask. I offered. We would love to have you around. We’ll need a guest house eventually anyway.”I could see the emotion in Wayne’s eyes. “That’s a very kind offer. I’ll think on it. I don’t want to put anyone out.”“Wayne,” I said, reaching across the table and grabbing his hand. “It would be an honor to have you around.”He smiled. “You drive a hard bargain, missy,” he teased.“I certainly do.”“Montana is a great place to live,” Damion said. “I wish I would have realized it earlier. I wasted a lot of time. I don’t intend to do it again.”“Good, because I won’t let you get away from me quite so easily.”“I’m not going anywhere,” he said with a grin. “Montana is
DamionI finished making my editorial notes on the article from one of my new journalists before adding a complimentary note and emailing it back. She was a talented writer and I was looking forward to seeing what she could do.There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” I called, knowing it would be my assistant.She pushed it open. “Mr. Whittle, Tony is here.”I nodded and waved a hand, indicating he should come in. “Thanks.”Tony walked in. The guy was in his thirties and probably about one of the worst employees I had ever had the misfortune to work with. Tony flopped down in the chair across from my desk. I took in his wrinkled shirt and unshaven face. The guy was about a hundred pounds overweight and didn’t even try to clean up.“What’s up?” he snapped. “What did I do now?”I offered my best smile. “Tony, it isn’t about what you did, but what you didn’t do. We’ve had several conversations about your work. I have a feeling it all fell on deaf ears. Your work didn’t improve. In
DamionI shrugged. “I work in an office. When I’m not working, I’m taking care of Oliver.”He smiled at the mention of my son’s name. “How old is he now?”“Five, Grandpa. You know that.”“Does he look like the old man?” he asked proudly. “I let him have my name. He better look like me.” I chuckled. “He takes after me.”“And you take after me,” he said.I shrugged. “I suppose. How’s the farm?”He turned his blue eyes on me. “The farm is fine. It could be better. I’m hoping to change that soon.”“What happened?” I asked with concern. “You didn’t tell me you were having a hard time.”“I’m not. Just needed to change a few things. It’s handled.”He had always been a man of few words. Maybe it was why I had become an avid reader throughout my childhood. My mother had died of ovarian cancer when I was five and my father had been killed in a car accident shortly after. That left my widowed granddad to raise a little boy who was shy, lonely, and suffering from insurmountable grief.“Is there
AlexI stared over the green hood of the newer John Deere tractor. I glared at the man with the cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. It was a prop. He wore it like it was part of a uniform. I wanted to pull the damn thing down over his ears and then choke him with it.“I’m going to say this one more time,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “You cannot just drive the tractor around the field. You need to make circles or do rows if that’s what floats your boat. This meandering about isn’t going to cut it.”“Alexandria—”“Stop. I’ve told you about twenty-eight times to call me Alex.”“But you’re a girl,” he insisted.I grabbed my ample breasts and fluffed them. “Yes, yes I am. I suppose that’s why I’ve got tits. My name is Alex.”He sighed, pushing the hat up. “Alex, I made straight lines.”I rolled my eyes. “No, you didn’t.”The guy was nice enough, but in the words of my granddaddy, I didn’t think his elevator went all the way to the top floor. Oliver had hired the man to act as hi
AlexI laughed. “Your farm is huge, and it has got to be one of the hardest I’ve worked. You have a lot going on.”“It used to be a lot more than what it is. I sold off the north hundred acres or so about ten years ago. I realized I didn’t need so much. A buddy’s grandson was looking to start in the farming business. I figured I’d give him a hand and let him buy that land from me for a real steal. I hear he’s built himself a small house on the land.”“That was nice of you,” I told him. “Most farmers I’ve met hold on to their land until their last dying breath.”He smirked. “I suppose we do, but the two-hundred acres I have is plenty. I’m an old man. I don’t need to make a killing in the wheat business.”“I wish others could be as easygoing as you are. Hell, I wish I could be that easygoing.”He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s taken me seventy-two years to get to this point. A man realizes somewhere along the way that life is too short to be uptight. We’re all here f
DamionI walked into the school, smiled at the receptionist, and joined the other parents there to pick up kids. I waited until Oliver’s teacher had a free moment and approached her. I liked to check in with her at least once a week if time allowed.“Hello,” I greeted.“Ah, Mr. Whittle,” she said with a smile.“Damion, please,” I insisted. “How’s he doing?” It was the same question I asked every time I saw her.The start to my five-year-old’s school career had been rocky. I was assured kindergarten was hard on a lot of kids. It was a big change, and some struggled a bit more than others. My son wasn’t struggling with the learning but with being in a new environment with kids he didn’t know.“He is a bright young man and a pleasure to have in class,” she answered.“But?” I asked, knowing there was something she wasn’t saying.She smiled. “He’s had a difficult week. The class has been doing group projects, and Oliver is so far advanced, he either does all the work or doesn’t do any of i