Chapter 14 Mary
MARY
Iwas more than a little flustered on the ride back to the ranch, which I think is fair, all things considered.
Tony seems too worried about Al to have noticed the disheveled state Everett and I were in, but if he did see anything, he kindly keeps his mouth shut.
Bill and Everett had already rushed Al to the hospital by the time we made it back to the barn, leaving the day’s tasks to Tony and the other ranch hands.
Tony takes over easily, and he doesn’t offer me a job assignment, so I wander back toward the house.
There’s dirt stuck to my back beneath my shirt, and my panties are clinging uncomfortably to the remaining wetness between my thighs.
I want to be worried about Al—he seems like a good guy and I hope he’s not seriously hurt—but I can’t pull my thoughts away from Everett.
My face is flushed and my heart still hasn’t settled back into a normal rhythm by the time I make it through the front door of the house.
A shower might help.
If I can just wash the dirt and the river water away, maybe my conflicted desires will slip right down the drain along with the muck. At least I’ll have a chance to catch my breath again.
I wander down the hall toward the guest room in a bit of a daze, my mind still reeling from the feeling of Everett’s hands on me. He’d been hungrier this time, less reserved, and I want to offer myself up to be ravished if he’ll just kiss me like that again.
I don’t bother going into my room, turning instead toward the bathroom. If I can just get in the shower before my thoughts run off without me, I’ll be able to get a hold of myself.
No matter how perfect Everett felt on top of me, my worries haven’t changed. He’s still my client, and I could still lose my job for doing this.
I sigh in relief as I step into the bathroom, already stripping out of my clothes as I kick the door shut behind me.
Within moments, my clothes lie in a heap on the floor, and I’m bare in front of the mirror.
A rush of heat slams into my gut when I see the marks Everett left on my chest. There’s a tiny red spot where he nipped at my collarbone and two blooming bruises from his mouth just below my breast.
My fingers shake as I raise them to trace over the marks, and I can’t keep my exhale steady. I can still feel him on me, the warmth of his hands, the scratch of his beard. He took me apart at the seams with nothing but his tongue, and my body is wound tight and aching.
I bite the inside of my cheek and tear my eyes away from my reflection so I can focus on starting the shower.
As soon as the water heats, I step under the spray and groan at how good it feels against my skin. I may prefer my little apartment in the city, but Everett definitely has me beat on water pressure.
And the view.
I stand under the water for a long moment, trying fruitlessly to convince myself to just take a shower and wash the entire day away.
My body seems to be dead-set on ignoring me, though, because the longer I stand here, the more aware of every inch of my skin I become.
I trace my fingers down my stomach, following the path Everett’s mouth took earlier, and I cup my breast in my other hand.
As soon as my thumb brushes over my nipple, I give up all pretense of forgetting.
I’m more worked up than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and I need some form of relief. I don’t know how long Everett will be gone, and I have no clue how I’d go about seducing him anyway, so I’ll have to make do with my own fingers for now.
With the taste of Everett still lingering on my lips, I have a feeling I won’t be let down.
I shudder as I slip my fingers between my thighs, rubbing slowly over my clit as my eyes fall closed.
I’m still soaked from Everett’s tongue, and it doesn’t take me long to work myself back into a frenzy.
The memory of his voice, rough and hungry as he asked me to let him taste me, is so fresh that I swear I can almost hear it.
My legs tremble, and I lean back against the shower wall for stability as I tease my clit.
I’m already shaking by the time I slide two fingers into myself.
As soon as the thought of what Everett would feel like inside of me crosses my mind, my orgasm brutally slams into me.
I bite my lip to stop from shouting out Everett’s name.
My eyes roll back in my head. I take deep breaths of the humid air as I hurtle over the edge, my hips jolting in oversensitivity with every slight movement.
I’m exhausted and wrung out when I pull my hands away from my body, well-sated but still searching for more. For Everett.
It’s not the all-consuming need that plagued me on the ride back, having settled into a more manageable simmer, so I refocus my attention on actually taking a shower. I’m not about to waste hot water and the nice guest soaps just because I can’t get my mind off of Everett.
No, once my shower is done,, I’m going to refocus on work. I’ll figure out how to deal with whatever is happening between me and Everett afterward.
Maybe I’ll take a nap before I deal with all of that, though.
I truly am exhausted.
I jolt awake at the sound of a knock at my door.
It takes me a moment to orient myself and remember where I am, the drapes still open and showcasing the stretch of pastures. They’re drenched in the silvery light of the moon, and I blink blearily at the sight as I regain consciousness.
Another knock, quieter, makes me sit upright. There’s only one person who would be knocking on my door this late at night.
My heart immediately starts to pound, and I feel a bit like I’m sleepwalking as I slip out from beneath the covers. I can see a shadow in front of my door, watching it shift as I make my way closer.
Everett’s eyes go wide when I open the door, almost like he’d expected me to ignore him.
Like I ever could.
The soft light of the hallway behind him renders him little more than a silhouette.
It makes him look soft. That could also be because he’s in pajamas instead of his rugged work clothes.
The well-worn flannel pants and old tee that stretches just right over his shoulders are testing every last shred of my patience.
Whatever the reason, the look on his face makes my fingers itch to touch him again.
“Everett?”
My voice is quiet in the dark of the hall, not wanting to break the silence of the hour even though I know there’s no one else around to hear. He flinches at the sound of his own name, seeming to come back to himself.
“Mary,” he says, just as softly.
He’s said my name before, but it tears through me this time like a wildfire.
There’s probably more to be said. Questions to ask, boundaries to set, discussions to have. They all fall to the wayside when Everett takes a hesitant step forward.
As soon as his foot crosses the threshold of my room, we crash together gracelessly—needy, desperate, and unthinking, just like we were for our first kiss.
It’s so different this time, however. The tsunami of need washes over me even more aggressively, leaving me gasping against his mouth.
His arms are bare beneath my palms, and the soft cotton of his pants brushes against my bare legs as I yank him closer.
I’m only wearing a loose shirt and panties, but it suddenly feels like far too much. I tear my mouth away from his to yank at the hem of his shirt.
“Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” I breathe out, as I strip his shirt over his head.
He answers me with an animalistic growl and a wide, toothy grin.
I don’t have a chance to process that before he wraps me up in his arms and carries me over to the bed.
My breath rushes out of me as he lays me down on the mattress and blankets me with his body.
He feels so much hotter on top of me here than he did by the river.
It’s probably just because the house is cool, but I want to think it’s because he’s desperate.
“Every time I get my hands on you—” he says, tugging my shirt impatiently over my head, “ I tell myself that I’m going to go slow, take care of you.”
I can only respond with a breathy moan as he traces the same path he followed earlier, the rough brush of his beard against my skin turning my mind to mush.
“But then every time I touch you, I lose my goddamn mind,” he grunts.
He presses a kiss to my hip as he yanks my underwear down my legs, and I arch up into every searing point of contact.
There’s a glint in his eyes when he looks up at me that says he wants to taste me again, but I’m so impatient it hurts.
I don’t give him time to make a move, guiding him back up as soon as my panties hit the floor.
He follows easily, catching my lips in a burning kiss as I twist him into the position I want him in.
A groan vibrates between our lips when I shove him down onto his back and straddle him. His hands fly up to my hips, clutching at me, and I moan at the scratch of his calluses against my skin.
I can feel how hard he is already, pressing up against me through his pants.
“You’re overdressed,” I say with a grin.
“Could fix that,” he offers without hesitation.
I bite his bottom lip before pulling back entirely. I can’t see any color on his face in the dark of the room, but something tells me he’s blushing when I stand between his thighs and tuck my fingers beneath the waistband of his pants.
“I’ll help you out.”
His breath hitches as I pull his pants down, baring his cock to the cool night air. He’s hard to the point of leaking, precum on the tip of his cock. I reach out to trace my fingertip down the length, and it jumps at the first touch.
A ragged groan tears out of Everett’s throat, and I glance up to see his hands fisted in the sheets and his eyes practically devouring me.
“You never answered me,” I whisper, wrapping my hand around his cock and giving him a slow stroke.
He makes a sound that’s somewhere between questioning and completely blissed out.