Chapter 12 Zach #2
“I’m hoping I can expand at some point, but I need to wait for all the crops to be productive first.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Well, it takes three to five years for a plant to start producing substantial fruit.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that.”
He chuckled.
“Yeah, they’re plants that take patience and a lot of care. I was lucky when I bought the place, it already had half an acre of blueberry plants that I could work with. I’ve planted another acre and a half since I took over, and it was only this year I got fruit from my own crops and varieties.”
I looked around us at the darkening fields and squinted trying to tell how far it reached.
“How many acres do you have?”
“Just the two. But the land around is undeveloped. I’m hoping eventually I can buy another acre or two. But not until the two I have now are productive.”
I nodded.
“I honestly don’t know how you do it all.”
We reached the truck and disposed of all the branches we had managed to pick up in the bed, before we loaded the goats there too and got into the car.
“I could say the same about you, you know.”
“Me?” I stared at him.
“Yeah. You’re a force to be reckoned with. I have no idea how you find enough hours in a day to make all those baked goodies you have on sale every day.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling my cheeks get warm.
Good thing it was quickly getting dark outside, and he wouldn’t be able to see me blushing.
“That…that’s because I get like three hours of sleep every night.” I laughed.
He raised an eyebrow.
“You do?”
I shrugged. “More or less. I prepare as much as I can the night before, like bread dough and stuff and then in the morning I bake everything before I open up.
“Wh-what time do you wake up?”
I sighed.
“Four. Very rarely five.”
Dare’s eyes shot wide open and he blinked fast.
“Wow. That’s early. Even I don’t get up that early.”
“I know. I’m a special case. I just…well, I can’t sleep thinking of all the delicious stuff I can make. And I’m a severe insomniac, which doesn’t help either.”
Dare pressed his lips together. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “I’ve gotten a lot better lately. But yeah, I guess I’m not helping my case with my chosen profession.”
“Have you always wanted to be a baker?”
“More or less. My grandma used to bake a lot. She practically raised me and we were always in the kitchen, conspiring, baking something for my parents to have when they got home. They worked so much I loved doing something for them. And I loved the time we used to spend together baking. It was very sacred. But then she passed away and I wasn’t allowed to bake anymore. ”
“Well, that sucks,” he said.
“Yeah. They thought I was too old to be playing housewife when I should be studying to follow in their footsteps.”
“I’m sorry, that’s awful.”
I shrugged.
“It is what it is.”
I sat back and Dare glanced at me but continued driving until we reached the house.
“I feel like takeout, do you?” he asked and then his cough unsettled even Lookah who had passed out on my lap.
“Do they deliver out here?”
“I can go pick it up. Whatever you want.”
I shook my head.
“You’ve worked hard enough already. How about we get some soup in you and call it a night.”
His shoulders sagged, and he let out a huff.
“You’re no fun.”
I laughed and got out of the car.
A few minutes later we sat in the living room with some microwaved soup and toasted bread, and we took turns in the shower.
When I walked into the bedroom however, Dare wasn’t there.
Instead, I heard his cough coming from the guest room.
I knocked and before he could respond I opened the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
The chill in the guest room was bone-shattering. I shivered and when I spoke I thought I saw a hint of condensation coming out of my mouth.
“I told you you’re sleeping in your bed tonight.”
He hugged his covers tighter and shook his head.
“I’m fine here,” he said and coughed again.
I sighed and approached the bed, standing in front of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, if you won’t come to your bedroom, I’ll sleep right here with you so we both suffer.”
Dare grimaced.
“No. Zach, come on!”
“Well the choice is yours. Either you come or…scooch up.”
I saw him consider his options for a second, looking at the blanket but then another coughing fit took over him and he gave in.
“See? It’s so much nicer here,” I told him once we were in his bed, in the warmth of his bedroom.
Poor guy, he was still shaking, but I found another blanket for him in his closet and then laid down on the other side with my own layer of covers and Lookah in between us.
I gave the dog a scratch behind the ears, thankful for his presence.
This way there was no chance of me slipping closer to Dare and doing something inappropriate and yet, it took forever for me to close my eyes and sleep because every time I looked over to Dare all I could think about was how close he was, how inviting his lips were, and how I’d love nothing more than to cuddle up next to him.
This is sheer torture.
And I’d brought it on myself. But what else could I do? I couldn’t let the poor man suffer in his own home.
And yet, despite the pervasive thoughts I eventually drifted off watching him sleep.
He was there in my dreams, looking cute and sleepy.
Pulling me closer. Pressing my back to his chest. So close he could kiss my neck and wrap his hands around my waist. Inching his fingers lower.
Slipping them under my pants so he could grab my cock and balls in his big, manly hand.
Making me moan with just a single touch.
My cock got hard within a second and Dare wasted no opportunity to stroke me in a smooth, slow motion, forcing a whimper out of me with each move.
He upped the ante, jerked me faster, harder, tighter and I could do nothing but moan and beg for release. Pleading with him to let me come so I could feel the wave of pleasure he’d caused course through my body.
Dare kept denying me though. Just when it became too much and I got too close he’d focus all his attention on my neck, on the kisses he planted there. On all the ways he could light my skin on fire with his lips and tongue.
And then he’d start up again.
I was hanging on by a thread for forever when he finally, at long last, let me come. As my hot load burst out of me, I opened my eyes.
I blinked.
I took a deep, long breath. Then another. And another. I was panting as if he’d really given me a hand job.
It was when I managed to bring my breathing under control that I realized how cold my pants felt. I touched my cock, it was hard as a rock, but that wasn’t my concern. That was a regular occurrence around Dare.
I was far more concerned with how wet my pants and pajamas were.
“Shit,” I exclaimed.
Had I just had a wet dream like a fucking horny teenager?
I sighed and started to get up so I could get cleaned when I noticed Dare shaking his head and breathing heavily.
For a second I panicked. I thought maybe it hadn’t been a dream at all, and he was out of breath from our intense session but the sweat beading his forehead told another story.
I reached for him with my clean hand and, before I even touched him, I felt the burn against my fingers.
“Oh Dare,” I sighed.
Here he was with a fucking fever, and I’d been having a wet dream.
I was hopeless.
“Don’t worry, Dare,” I whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”
It was the least I could do after the way he had taken me in and everything he’d given me.