Under the Rancher's Firm Hand

This man… this. All of this. How? It had been a week of nothing but raw sex and blessed naps. He acted like he had no feelings for me, but I saw right through the act. I felt how he kissed me. I felt his muscles tense up when I touched him, the ache, the desire that never ceased.

I saw his gray eyes watch me as I slept. Caleb was falling for me. But then why? Why did he have that faraway look in his eyes?

Ever since we had that competition days ago, and I let him win, he had been distant. Is it the way I ignored his prompts and questions about my past? Could it be that he hates how I never answer him directly and change the subject? I wondered if he really wanted the truth. I wondered if he could handle it.

I had received a text from my stepbrother. There was no way I could figure out how the bastard found me out, but he did, and he had. That worried me a lot. He could ruin everything.

I couldn’t just run from my past forever.

“It is time,” I sighed to myself aloud. “I have to tell him.”

Swiping a brush through my hair and checking my perfume’s strength, I left the room with a quick glance at the sky outside. Dark clouds were gathering. A storm was on its way.

“Caleb?” I called out.

An echo answered me.

I went around his study room and checked the ballrooms. He was nowhere to be found. I ran up the stairs and pushed the panel that revealed his hidden loft. He was not there either. I huffed in frustration and was about to turn and head out of the room when a yellow envelope caught my eye.

I tried to ignore the nosy urge to investigate until I realized. It had my name on it. I picked it up in shaking hands. Maybe he was just looking over my employee file.

But why would he have brought that with us?

I tore open the envelope and started to read. And as I read, my confusion turned to horrified anger. I raced downstairs and bumped into him at the loft’s entrance.

“Whoa, Harlee, what’s-“

‘You researched me!” I angrily spit and hit him on the chest.

He acted confused and I shoved the folder and all it’s contents at him, not caring when papers scattered over the floor. “Don’t play with me. I know you hired a PI to investigate me. Is this what you do with all your women? Is that some kind of ‘employee policy’ I didn’t know about? Is it?!”

He grabbed me by the shoulders and pinned me to the wall. His face mashed into mine and we kissed heatedly. I struggled against his grip, but he held me fast. His hands pulled my arms up, pinning both my arms together. His kiss was fiery, filled with unnatural heat. I could hardly breathe. My nipples awakened.

Caleb pulled me up onto him and took me up to his loft. On the hardwood floor he ripped my dress apart and pulled his belt apart. I was pissed, and confused, and wanted to shove him away, but I couldn’t resist him. He tied my arms with the belt. I felt my legs part, his waist followed through, and after the brief tear of foil and a moment’s wait, his cock penetrated me with haste.

I cried out to him and bemoaned the maddening pleasure rocking through my core. I hated the weakness, hated that I gave into him so easily. He kissed and sucked my neck, biting deep, so deep in fact, that I knew there would be a mark. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of his cock squelching, my pussy burning, the rain pounding and his mouth heaving inside my ear.

“Fuck, Caleb, I’m going to fucking cum,” I rasped.

“So fucking do it,” he growled, “Cum for me.”

I arched my back high up and met his thrust. He drove deep, deep into me, and I screamed. Heat flooded my body and I screamed his name. My lungs, bothered and empty of air, sucked back in the much needed oxygen filled with his macho and charisma. I opened my eyes to see him, and I remembered all over again.

I slapped him away and got up, wriggling so I could remove the restraint on my wrist. I pulled the belt loop with my teeth and let it fall to the ground. It clattered. I grabbed my shirt off of the floor and put it on.

“Harlee, what are you doing?” he asked.

The shirt was long enough to cover my thighs, and I ran. I ran down the steps and down the stairs. I ran past the ballrooms and the game room and the kitchen and the front door. I ran to escape the spasms of joy and hate that filled me up so fast that I feared for my sanity.