Chase the Storm (15 page)
Authors: V.m Waitt
“You get Sampson, I’ll get Lakota,” he instructed. His voice was authoritative, but the iciness from the previous week had melted. Nodding, I did as he asked.
The rest of the morning, we worked in sync, not speaking unless there was a command or question, but the lighter mood remained. As the midday sun burned, Chase unbuttoned his shirt and let it flow loose around him.
“Get back to work,” he barked when he realized I was staring at him.
“Yes, sir,” I replied, ducking into a stall and taking deep breaths to alleviate myerection.
“Elijah,” he reprimanded, knowing I was too distracted by him to work.
Smiling, I finished the stalls, occasionally peeking outside to watch Chase work. He knew damned well what he was doing when he stood and stretched his arms above his head, twisting his torso. I finished the stalls, swearing under my breath and walking stiffly with the bulge in my jeans. I’d just finished in the garden when Chase waved at me from the porch steps. Carrying the bucket of vegetables, I jogged to him, smiling when I showed him what I’d picked. A little over a month before, I wouldn’t have knowna ripe vegetable froma rottenone.
“Tomatoes look good,” he said, picking through the produce. “Why don’t we use one for lunch?”Liftingone fromthe bucket, he held the door for me.
“I can think of something better for lunch,” I said as I walked by, givinghima wiggle ofmyass.
“Elijah,” he scolded with a shake of his head as he followed me inside. “Canyouget the meats out while I slice the bread?”
I grinned at his request. It was the first time he’d asked me to help in the kitchen without me offering and usually being shut down. Placing the bucket of vegetables on the island, I washed my hands in the sink before opening the refrigerator and pulling out the deli meats. For once we moved around the kitchen effortlessly together. He cut the bread and tomatoes, and I made the sandwiches and got the iced tea. Sitting down across fromhimat the island, I saw he’d buttoned up his shirt.
When he saw me frowning, he smirked. “Don’t worry, it’s still hot out,” he said, giving me hope. “We need to bale the hay I cut a few days ago. I’ve got to deliver some to the Watsons tomorrow.”
“Have the Sullivans decided about Keno?” I asked, biting into my sandwich.
“Unfortunatelytheydecided to go witha full-blooded Quarter horse. Their daughter wants to barrel race and Keno’s long legs don’t make him idealfor makingtight turns. So he’s ours for a while longer.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I knew he’d been hoping to get some money fromthe sale. “Speakingofriding, canyoustart teachingme again?”
He licked the mustard offhis lips and raised a brow. “Horses?”
I was instantaneouslyhard at his implication, but I managed a nod.
“Maybe today. Ifnot, we’lltrytomorrow.”
“Thanks.”I smiled.
After lunch, we headed out to the back field to bale the hay. True to his word, he took offhis shirt before he got onthe tractor.
“This baler is dangerous, pay attention to what you’re doing and not me,” he warned when he caught me gazing at his dark, smooth skin, especiallythe
v
leadingto his hips.
“I will,” I assured him as I peeled off my own shirt and threw it on the tractor.
The afternoon was spent with me walking behind the tractor, tossing the newly baled hay onto the ground. There was little talking over the sound of the engine, but I did glance his way a few times, enjoying the way his muscles bunched as he turned to watch the baler. We returned to the barn just before sunset, got a drink of water from the hose, and then began the nightly feeding. I poured the grain while he started bringing the horses inside. Whenhe led Lakota in, Chase nodded to me.
“Youwant to ride?”
“Hell, yeah,”I answered.
Instead of letting Lakota in his stall to eat, Chase put him on the crossties and began grooming him. I finished bringing everyone inside, and Chase had Lakota tacked up and ready to go when I was done. Putting myshirt back on, I followed himout to the ring.
For the next hour, Chase had me trotting over poles and weaving in and out of cones, working on leg commands versus using the reins to tell Lakota whenI wanted himto go. Chase stood inthe center ofthe ring, his hands onhis hips, his hat sittingback onhis head as he watched me witha keeninstructor’s eye. Unlike me, he’d left his shirt off, and I was proud of myself for keeping my concentration on the horse under me and not him. The sun had already set before I was dismounting and walking the bay to the barn. I gave Lakota a quick rubdown and led him into his stall to finally eat his dinner, watching as he buried his head in his bucket. Then I felt Chase’s weight against myback.
“He’s a good horse,”I sighed.
“Yeah, he is.”
“Willyousellhim?”
“If I can,” he answered, and then added when I didn’t reply, “I could use the money.”
“I know,” I said, turning and giving him a forgiving smile. “Dinnertime?”
We headed for the house, the sky swirling with the colors of evening as we walked up the steps. I never made it to my bedroom that night. Chase led me to his, undressed me, showered with me, and then made love to me before falling asleep much like he had the night before, with his head onmychest and his armaround mymiddle to keep me there.
As ifI’d ever want to be anywhere else.
a few days later that I realized just how much Chase wanted me.
I’d suspected his craving for me ended when we left his bed in the mornings because our work around the barn remained employer/employee except for the rare wink. We’d had more contact in the barn before we started sleeping together. Not that I minded. I would much rather have him making love to me nightly than the occasional dry hump in the barn. Just when I’d started to accept that was how it would be, Chase went and surprised me.
I was stacking hay in the loft. My shirt was draped over the railing while I lifted the bales and piled themon each other. Music drifted up the stairs in faint chords, but I could hear enough to sing along with it. I don’t know how long he was behind me, but as I bent over for the next bale, strong hands were on me, urgently grabbing at my jeans. He pulled me to his hips, his hands running the course of my abdomen, straightening my body to press against his with one hand at my hip, holding me firmly to him.
I managed a half laugh broken by a gasp when I felt him grind against me, raising my heartbeat and temperature substantially. His lips and scruff grazed their way across the expanse of my neck that I willingly offered to himwhile his fingers found my dick and squeezed. I felt his lips curl in a satisfied smile at the diminutive amount of time it had taken my cock to lengthen and harden, proving I wanted himas much as he wanted me. He moved with me fromthe bale to the wall, his foot breaching mine and pushingmyankles apart, wideningmystance.
Sure hands pulled them to my knees, kissing bare skin as he bent to do so. I heard a sound that was becoming pleasingly familiar to me as he tore open a sachet of lubricant. Wet fingers slipped between the cheeks I’d presented himwithout hesitation. I propped my forearms against the wall, giving him unashamed access to what he needed from me. Firm fingers circled my ass before sliding in, gently probing until he provoked the whimper from me he’d been searching for. When he squeezed the remainder of the packet onto his cock, mine jerked at the wet sound of himcoatinghimself, and I reacted instinctively, graspingand tuggingmyself as he placed the head of his dick against me and drove forward. It was steady, not rushed or abrupt. He rested his temple against myhair, digging nails telling me everything I needed to know without so much as a moan from his lips. Shuddering, he was fully seated and his hips met my ass, skin to skin. He lifted his hand from my back and brought it to my shoulder, rockinghis hips awayfromme at the same time.
At a loss for words, I twisted my neck, pressing my lips to his. The move caught him off guard, and he jerked forward again, savoring the gasp it enticed. He clutched myhips as I bowed myhead, placingit onmy forearmon the wall, my right hand unrepentantly stroking me closer to my climax. He found his rhythm within seconds and gradually sped it up to a chorus ofpleadingwhimpers untilhis hips were movingrelentlesslyand his nails burrowed themselves throughlayers ofmyskin.
It wasn’t longbefore he was grunting and coming inside me, my own load painting the wallat the feelofhis warmth filling me. He lifted his hand to my face, nudging my jaw to gain his angle, and then he meshed his tongue with mine in a satisfied kiss. I panted as he tugged my jeans back up myhips. He laid a finalkiss onmybare shoulders, and I listened to him walk away. Only when the faint music that had been filtering through the barn increased in volume did I move, grinning to myself, buttoning my jeans, and reachingfor the next bale.
that, Chase was a little freer about where he took me, although it was usually when the jobs were done. He was always serious, working hard all day riding or fixing something. Before arriving there, I had never realized a farm, even a small one, required so much effort, but it was never-ending. We worked allday and made love allnight, falling asleep in a web oflimbs and sighs.
There was one night when things didn’t go as planned, and I thought I might have fucked up for the final time. I was on my back on Chase’s bed, mylegs wrapped around his waist as he slammed into myass.
With those few words, he walked out of the room, leaving me confused and hard inhis messybed. “Chase?”I called out uselessly, rising onmyelbows.
He was gone. I never heard the screen door shut, so I assumed he was inthe house, but he wasn’t inhis bed.
“Fuck.”I sighed, fellback onto the mattress.
My cock, red and swollen, hovered above my abdomen. I didn’t know if I should stay or go after him. Just as my cock was returning to its limp state and I’d decided to get dressed and go find him, I saw himinthe doorway. He was still naked, his erection also gone, and he walked over to the bed, sat down, and looked out the window.
“I’msorry,”he said softly, puttinga hand onhis muscular thigh. “This wasn’t supposed to be about that.”
“Then what is it about?” I wasn’t sure what he was referring to, but he was back and talkingand that was allthat mattered.
“I honestlydon’t know anymore,”he said withsigh.
No more talking necessary, I pulled him to me, wrapping him with myarms and what love I could give himwithout actuallysayingthe words.
next day, I was muckingstalls whenhe marched into the barn. “Let’s go,” he said, and without asking where, I dropped the pitchfork, put onmyshirt, and followed himto his truck.
When I saw the hay trailer hooked up, I knew we were going on a delivery. I rested myhead against the seat, myeyes trained onthe miles of wheat fields we passed as they fluttered in the summer breeze. Tired of the wheat, I lolled my head to the other side, deciding that watching Chase drive was a far more appealing vision. Only, when I turned my head, I found himalreadywatchingme.
Blushing, I looked away. He said it almost daily, usually lying in his bed after sexor while he was buried inside me, and eachand everytime, I would flush and look away. There was something so raw in his voice when he said it that struck me, making the words seem so much more than a compliment on my appearance. No one had called me beautiful before, or even handsome. I looked in the mirror and saw an odd shade ofgreeneyes, a nose that was too straight to be real, and hair inneed ofa cut. I appreciated the new physique I was developing, but anything would have beenbetter compared to the scrawnybodyI’d had before.
He laughed at my embarrassment, something else I was growing used to, and looked back out the windshield. About thirty minutes later, he pulled into a dirt road that ended in front ofa massive farmhouse and a barntwice the size ofChase’s.
Anolder gentlemancame out ofthe barn, his hand extended to greet Chase. Standing next to the truck, I watched them talk, Chase’s laugh carrying through the dry air. When Chase called me over, I straightened and walked to him. The man was shorter than Chase by several inches and was dressed in the stereotypical jean overalls with a dirty white Tshirt under it. There were tuffs of gray hair randomly placed on his round head, and his friendly dark brown eyes were framed with bushy eyebrows. I almost expected to see himchewingona piece ofhay.
“I am,”I said.
“How are youlikingit?”he asked, stuffinghis hands inhis pockets. “I love it,”I said witha grin. “Chase has taught me so much.”
“Now what?”
“Now we unload the hayfor him,”Chase responded.
He returned to the truck, and I ran to catch up with him, hopping inside just before he started backingthe trailer up to the barn. Expertly, he guided the trailer up against barn doors. Satisfied he was close enough, he got out, takinghis gloves offthe seat.