Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Waylon
“So you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on with you and Little Miss Heart Eyes?” Wilder taunts after we finish our afternoon tour.
“What’re you talkin’ about?” I scoop out a bucket of feed and then hear him follow as I walk down the barn aisle.
“I saw the way you and Harlow were lookin’ at each other.”
“Nothing’s going on. We’re friends,” I say, sprinkling the feed over hay in one of the stalls.
“Does Delilah know?”
“Know what? There’s nothin’ to tell her.”
“That you’re friendly with her little sister…”
“I dunno what she knows or what you think you know, but you’re wrong.”
“So I could ask Harlow out, then?”
By the tone in his voice, he’s fucking with me and waiting to see how I’ll react.
“Sure, go ahead,” I deadpan, grabbing more feed.
“You like her…” He blocks my path. “Does she like you?”
“No and no.”
“Have you asked her?”
I blow out a frustrated breath. “No.”
“So I could be right?” he gloats.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s my ex’s little sister and it could never happen.”
“Is that what you think or just what you’re tellin’ yourself to avoid being happy for once?”
“Mm-hmm.” I ignore his interrogation and step around him to go to the next stall.
“Is this you not wantin’ to date because of me?” he asks my back.
My spine straightens, but I don’t turn to face him. “It’s a little of everything.”
He pats my shoulder before coming in front of me. “I told ya, you don’t haveta put your life on hold for me. Get a life outside of worryin’ about me.”
Easier said than done.
“I wish I could.”
“So what, I’ve had a few episodes over the past decade or so. That doesn’t mean you can’t allow yourself to be in a relationship.”
I arch a brow. “A few?”
“Stop using me as an excuse.”
“I’m not gonna go after a twenty-year-old who’s related to the last girl I dated,” I say matter-of-factly.
Or at least I shouldn’t…is what I tell myself.
“This is because she’s too young for you?”
“And innocent,” I add. “She and I started talkin’ when she asked me questions about datin’. So that’s how I know she’s not interested, and I just need to get over it.”
“So you do like her. Who’s she datin’?”
I shrug. “Some guy she met from CowboyMatch. Today, she asked if she should wear five-inch heels because he’s only a couple inches taller than her, and instead of tellin’ her the truth, I lied. Made up some bullshit about how it’ll show she doesn’t care about his height.”
Which I feel guilty as hell about. I shouldn’t have done that.
But I hate the thought of some punk taking advantage of her. She’s young and inexperienced enough that she wouldn’t even realize it.
“Dude, you gave her bad advice on purpose?” He’s full-on laughing. “That’s some shit I would pull.”
“Trust me, I know. It was a low moment, and I plan to confess later.”
Along with telling her the truth about the horse club group chat.
I thought not telling her would be best, but the closer we get and the more we open up to each other, it feels wrong to hide it from her.
I’m not sure how she’ll take it, but as soon as the right time approaches, I’ll do my best to explain why I had to pretend I wasn’t there to meet her that day at the café. And why I had to stop communication.
When she approached me in the dating app to ask about getting experience and learning, I was so shocked at how much she opened up and trusted me, I didn’t want her to shut down if I told her.
But then I started liking her more and more, so if I don’t tell her soon, she could get pissed enough to walk away from our entire friendship.
And I’d be devastated if that happened.
“No way. Unless you want her to fall for someone else, let her show up in heels. Hell, tell her to wear eight-inch boots with a knife strapped to her thigh. Scare away the dude for good.”
I scoff because of course that’d be his advice. “I can’t do that to her. She’s tryin’ so hard to put herself out there and live her life after everything she went through. She trusts me, and I shouldn’t sabotage her.”
“Fuck…” He shakes his head. “You’re really into her, aren’t ya?”
Stepping around him, I smack into his shoulder as I walk away.
And now tonight, I’m supposed to let her watch me jerk off.
Yeah, I’m fucked.
Once I eat dinner and take a shower, I put on gray sweatpants and a T-shirt. It took everything in me not to jerk off in the shower since chatting with Harlow always makes me tense and tonight’s going to be so much worse.
Why did I even agree to this?
I should’ve gone with the banana option.
Harlow
Are you ready for me to call?
I reread her message that she sent ten minutes ago.
Maybe I should back out of this and tell her I’m too tired. It’s not like she needs to learn for her date on Friday unless she plans to get a public indecency charge.
But who knows.
She’s eager as hell to lose her virginity, and I shouldn’t stand in the way of that just because I can’t have her.
Waylon
Yep.
She video calls through the app a moment later.
“Hi!” Her bright smile captures my attention as soon as I pick it up.
“Hey. How’s it goin’?”
“Great. How was the rest of your workday?”
I casually lift a shoulder. “Fine. Nothin’ special. Well, unless you consider Wilder not flirtin’ with the tour guests for once a special occasion.”
She giggles. “Sounds unlike him.”
“I know, I almost checked his temperature.”
She laughs again and it makes my heart race.
“So, uh…before I show you…I need to tell ya something.”
“Okay?”
“Earlier when you asked me if you should wear five-inch heels on your date, I gave you bad advice.”
“I was wonderin’ about that. My coworker, Marissa, said that most guys who are on the shorter side probably wouldn’t prefer the heels—at least not on the first date.
I told her you probably didn’t know any better because of how tall you are.
There’s no way for you to know from a short guy’s perspective. ”
She trusts me so much, she assumes it was by accident.
God, I suck.
But if I elaborate and tell her I did it on purpose, I’ll have to tell her why, and I can’t do that.
Dating her is out of the question, but there’s no point in ruining our friendship we’re both enjoying.
“Right, sorry,” I say.
“Nah, it’s okay. I decided I’m wearin’ them anyway…for me. If he has an issue with it, then I’ll know we won’t be a good match.”
Oh. “Okay.”
“And I’m not confident he’ll show up anyway, so…” She shrugs. “But I guess that’s part of the datin’ process.”
“Pretty much,” I agree.
“Do you watch porn?” she asks abruptly.
“What?”
“When you touch yourself. I was wonderin’ if you needed to watch it to get hard so you could show me how you do it.”
“Uh, no…I can use my imagination.”
“Okay, cool. That’s what I did the last time and it worked.”
“The last time?”
“Yeah, I wanted to see if I could make myself orgasm without you talkin’ me through it. You said practice makes perfect, so I just repeated the words you said to me in my head, and I finished.”
Fucking hell.
It’s one thing to know she’s capable of doing it herself now, but it’s another knowing she thought of me while doing it.
“That’s…great,” I drawl. “Glad it worked.”
“Me too. It’s quite the stress reliever.”
I chuckle at her bluntness. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Which is even better for you tonight. You’ll probably sleep great.”
Oh, I wouldn’t count on it…
“Yeah, let’s hope so.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
Sitting back against my headboard, I prop up my phone against my lamp on the nightstand.
“How’s this angle?”
“This should work. Maybe zoom in a bit.”
I pinch the screen until she’s satisfied and then make sure the phone’s steady.
“Okay…I’m gonna lower my boxer briefs now.”
“What’s the difference between briefs and boxers?”
“Harlow…” I swallow hard. “You can’t ask a million questions while I’m doing this. I need to focus.”
“Shit, sorry…” She mimics zipping her lips and throwing out the key.
I inhale a deep breath before releasing it and then slide down my underwear. My cock’s already half hard and smacks against my stomach.
Palming my shaft with my right hand so she can see everything from my left side, I make slow, steady strokes up and down, then gently swirl my thumb around the tip.
“The crown is very sensitive, so it feels good when you touch or suck up here,” I tell her, repeating the motion a few more times. “But the shaft needs attention too, especially when your mouth is on it. Going as deep as you can feels incredible.”
Glancing at the screen, I make sure she hasn’t bailed on me, but she’s still there, watching intently as if she does this every day.
I continue stroking myself and then grab the bottle of lube I set aside.
“When you’re giving a hand job or having sex, lube can be a nice way to enhance pleasure and decrease friction.
It can also prevent condoms from breaking, so I’d suggest using it, especially for your first time or if you’re not on any birth control,” I explain, adding some of the lube to my palm before touching myself again.
Her face is angled differently on the screen and then I hear her writing on some paper.
“Are you takin’ notes?” I ask.
“I don’t wanna forget anything.”
I breathe out a laugh of disbelief. “There’s not a test after this.”
“Yes, I know…but it doesn’t hurt to remind myself for later.”
“Okay…” I increase my pace, my cock fully hard now, and I can’t contain the deep groans that echo in my throat.
When I glance at her again, her cheeks are redder than before, and I can’t help wondering if this turns her on.
“Harlow…” I grab her attention and she quickly finds my eyes on hers. “You can touch yourself, too, if you want.”
She bites her lower lip as if she’s contemplating it before she nods and shuffles around on her bed.
“Can you still talk about what you’re doing and what feels good?”
“Sure.” I tighten my grip. “You wanna squeeze around the shaft and twist your wrist while you stroke up and down, but don’t do it too hard. We’re sensitive down here, especially the balls.”