Chapter 19
After stewing for a while back at the house, I come to the annoying conclusion that I don’t have time to be mad at Cal.
There’s so much to get done, and even if he’s pissing me off with his nonsense, I have to swallow it down and figure out how to work with him so this weekend is a success. When that’s done, I can chew him out and fume.
For now, I’ll have to settle for the impassioned tirade I went on while I was taking a mid-afternoon rage shower and the sick pleasure I got out of stabbing a box cutter into a package that got delivered.
I head over to the lodge first, but Cal isn’t there. After a few futile attempts to move furniture around on my own, I give up and remind myself to ask someone—anyone other than Cal—for help with it if I see them.
I’m sure the jerk will see that as me wasting their time and giving them the “wrong idea” but fuck that.
And fuck him for insinuating that I’ve done anything untoward.
If Cal bothered to ask questions or pay any attention to his staff, he’d already know Dutch is in a committed, long-distance relationship with his boyfriend, Wylie has a thing for Tessa the veterinarian, and I’m pretty sure Remy is crushing on both Jade and Cade from the D&D group.
No one is interested in me, and I’m not interested in them.
Sure, August is objectively hot, but I can’t see him as anything other than a sweet, avuncular figure.
Cal’s claims that I’m flirting or distracting people are entirely fabricated.
Anger rises in me as I head over to see if the rude cow man is at the stables, and I have to force myself to stop mid-stride a few times to curse and do some deep breathing.
I need to be calm when I talk to him. I refuse to give him any fodder for judging my behavior, so I need to be professional and set all his bullshit aside.
It’s a good thing I have a lot of practice with that kind of thing. Between rude, entitled guests at the boutique hotel I worked at, and my many years dealing with my parents, I know how to redirect my anger and appear cordial when I’d like nothing more than to throttle them.
I’ll just silently envision wrapping my hands around Cal and squeezing the life out of him while I smile and pretend like nothing happened. I’ve found that violent visualizations can be very soothing in these sorts of situations.
With a dark grin on my lips, I head into the stables. I only flinch a little when some of the horses peek their heads out of their stalls, eyeing me curiously, and I’m proud of myself for being able to walk through here without sweating from anxiety.
Undertaker chuffs at me as I grow closer, a sound I’ve learned he typically makes when he’s eager for treats. I approach the pretty gray—not white, as Dutch kindly informed me—horse with my hands open in appeasement.
“Sorry, buddy, I don’t have anything for you. I know that’s so rude of me.”
He huffs again, and I step close enough for him to tap my hand with his nose to confirm I’m telling the truth. His big, soulful eyes watch me as I turn my hand over, shaking a little as I give his snout a gentle pat.
“You’re just a big, sweet grass puppy, aren’t you?” I ask, gaining a bit of confidence when he seems to like my touch. I’ve only ever done this under Dutch’s supervision, so this is a huge step for me.
Take that Cal. You and your need to supervise me can go kick rocks.
“Any luck charming your crush?” I stage-whisper to Undertaker. I swear he looks longingly toward the stall across from his, where Astra is currently not paying either of us any attention.
Damn, I guess Cal isn’t around if she’s here and looking settled.
“Maybe next time I can braid your mane and put some bows in it to see if that’ll catch her eye.”
Undertaker snorts, and it feels dismissive.
“Hey, I doubt it could hurt. Sometimes you need to show you’re willing to put a little effort into things if you want your crush to notice you.”
As much as I’m still nervous around all these horses, I linger a bit longer, murmuring to Undertaker so I can delay going off to search for Cal. I’m mid-telling the horse about my woes when I hear a deep groan coming from outside the barn doors that lead to the paddock.
What the heck was that?
I tiptoe over to the doors. If it’s Cal and he’s groaning because he’s still actively angry, I want to be able to sneak away and avoid a confrontation. The doors aren’t shut all the way, so I lean out around them to look for the source of the sound.
I glance to the right, and there’s nothing.
Another groan has me whipping my head to the left.
Oh. My. God.
I freeze, breath catching in my lungs and my hand flying up to cover my mouth as I take in the sight of Cal, his belt undone and jeans sagging enough to show off some of his gloriously muscular ass.
It takes my brain a moment to reboot, overloaded by the sudden appearance of Cal’s ass. He must be pissing, because surely he can’t be doing what my perverted brain thinks he’s doing.
But then he groans again, a soft rumbling sound that goes right between my thighs, and he turns, slapping a hand against the side of the barn as his other hand furiously works his—
Dear lord!
I duck back behind the barn door. It’s a good thing I covered my mouth because otherwise he would’ve heard my gasp.
Slamming my eyes shut, I try to erase the image, but it’s no use.
Cal’s enormous, dripping, hard cock is seared in my mind. It’s going to be there every time I close my eyes. Every time I look at him.
I need to get the hell out of here, but my feet won’t move. Cal hisses, and against all reason and better judgement, I peek back out.
It’s a colossal mistake.
Heat roils through me at the debauched picture he paints, his body outlined in the golden afternoon sun, brow furrowed in deep concentration and pleasure as he pumps his absurdly girthy shaft. His thighs flex a little with each stroke, like he’s having a hard time not thrusting into his own hand.
I want to look away, but I can’t get my body to obey my brain’s commands as I stare slack-jawed.
Why is he out here in the open doing this?
What is he thinking about that has him so desperately chasing his release?
My clit throbs and I grow wet faster than I have in my life as he continues to grunt and groan.
I have to go. I have to move.
If he catches me, I’ll be utterly fucked. There’s no way to explain me watching him jerk off other than to say I have heatstroke. Or plea temporary insanity.
“Fuck,” Cal grunts, focusing his efforts on the thick, bulbous head of his cock, his head tipping back and his ass and thighs tensing.
The first rope of his thick, pearly release splashes against the side of the barn, but he keeps stroking, pulling more and more cum from his cock, splattering it against the barn, onto the dirt, and coating his hands in it as he lets out almost tortured groans of relief.
Something brushes against my calf and I almost jump out of my skin, losing my balance and tumbling backwards onto my ass. There’s a startled cluck as a flurry of white feathers obscure my vision, and Cal lets out a surprised curse.
“Doodle!” I yell at the little miscreant, horror flooding through me.
“What the fuck? Belle?”
There’s the sound of a zipper and a belt buckle being done up. I push myself up from the dirt, purposely not looking in Cal’s direction.
“I…I…I was trying to catch Doodle!” I blurt, scrambling for any excuse other than that I’m a creep who watched him come.
The damn rooster crows angrily, and Cal curses. I look over to find he’s wrangled Doodle into his hands, holding a different cock than he was a few moments ago.
My face burns as I stand up. “Th-thanks. I saw him out a-and I didn’t want him to cause any trouble. I’ll take him and go!”
I hold my hands out to Cal, who doesn’t make any move to hand me Doodle.
“How long have you been here?” he asks, voice hoarse.
“Not long!” I squeak. “You know what? You can bring Doodle back to the coop. I just remembered I need to call the coffee shop before they close for the day, about, uh, the pastries and coffee I want for our guests.”
My words come out so fast I’m sure they’re not comprehensible, but I don’t care. I have to get out of here before Cal realizes what I was doing. I’ve never been more mortified in my life.
I rush back through the stable, away from Cal and Doodle.
“Belle, wait! I didn’t know—I shouldn’t have been—”
“It’s fine!” I shout back and break into a jog, not turning around.
Shame, embarrassment, and lingering arousal pulse through me all the way back to the house. I’m a breathless, sweaty mess as I slam the front door behind me and lock it, then slide to the floor with a groan.
So much for trying to act normal and keep things professional. What the hell is wrong with me?
I bury my face in my hands and let out a frustrated shout.
Why was he out there jerking off for anyone to see? It’s really his fault that I saw him. Anyone would’ve been stuck there in shock. Because it was shock, not interest, that had me watching.
The image of Cal stroking his cock, his head tipped back and muscles in his neck tensing, flashes through my mind. With it comes another surge of arousal.
I’m a pervert. I’m turned on from watching my asshole minotaur business partner jerk his absurdly large cock. More turned on than I’ve been in ages.
Overheated and sweaty from hurrying back to the house, I strip off my clothes and hop into the shower for the second time today, but the cold water does nothing to tamp my arousal. I’m so turned on and frustrated with myself and with Cal that I want to scream.
I flop onto my bed and spread by thighs, hissing at how wet and sensitive I am as I brush my fingers against my clit.
I know I shouldn’t do this, but I need some relief.
Setting to work, I scrunch my eyes closed as I try to rub one out without thinking about Cal and his huge dick and the sounds he made and the way his face looked when he came.
It doesn’t work.
I only make myself more frustrated, my fingers not giving me what I need.
I curse and reach over onto the bedside table for my rose toy, and bring it between my thighs.
I sigh as the familiar vibrations start against my clit, only to let out a half curse, half scream of defeat as the toy shuts off because I must not have set it properly on the charging base.
I push myself up from the bed, digging through my piles of clothes and suitcase in a desperate, bare-assed attempt to locate one of the vibrators I haven’t been able to find since I got here, but it’s no use.
I’m about to give up when I remember the box I’d tossed on the kitchen counter when I was opening packages earlier.
I rush downstairs, praying that no one is nearby to see me streaking past the open curtains at the front of the house, and grab the box. Once I’m back upstairs, I tear open the flimsy holographic cardboard packaging and pull out the pink sparkly cow man dildo in triumph.
It’s even bigger than I’d thought it would be, but thankfully it came with a generous packet of lube, which I tear open and slick all over the toy and myself.
I clear a space on the hardwood floor, grabbing some pillows to put under my knees and tossing them down, then slamming the suction cup base of the dildo onto the floor.
It wobbles, looking ridiculous, but I don’t care.
I need to come, and if I can’t stop thinking about minotaur dick, then hopefully this will do the trick.
It takes a lot of awkward maneuvering until I’m situated properly, the blunt head of the toy resting against my entrance.
“Alright, here goes nothing,” I murmur, holding the dildo in place as I attempt to sink down onto it.
Attempt, because it doesn’t go in.
“Fuck, come on!” I know it’s been a while since I’ve had something inside me, but surely I can get a little bit in.
Rubbing my clit, I tease the head of the toy across my pussy, closing my eyes and letting myself imagine that I’m not here alone.
That I’m with a nameless minotaur who is absolutely not Cal, and he’s whispering encouragement to me.
Telling me I look good and that I can take him if I relax and let him in.
I can almost feel strong fingertips digging into my hips as he keeps me steady, giving me that damn smirk that he always does when I bite my lip, and try again.
The stretch burns, but I push through it, rubbing my clit faster and letting the fantasy push me through the discomfort.
Fuck, it’s so big. Barely half an inch is inside me and I already feel overstretched.
“You can take it. Come on now. We both know you don’t back down from a challenge.”
I gasp as I force my way down on the toy a fraction more, letting a voice in my head that I’m pretending is anyone else’s but Cal’s guide me through it. But when the image of his thighs flexing as he worked his cock with his hand fills my mind again, I cry out.
I’m coming, stars dancing behind my eyes at the mixture of pain from the stretch and the pleasure of getting the relief I needed, all to the thought of getting fucked by my grumpy minotaur cowboy.