Texas Big Man

The thought of her only being a wall away from me once again makes my dick jump. Down boy. We need to take our time with this one. But soon enough there won’t be any walls between us. That’s for sure. I know it in my bones the same way I can sense the weather all the way out here. Once you’ve lived in the country for long enough, your instincts sharpen.

Melena is mine, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

She comes out of the house again, flushed from her exertion, and she doesn’t even glance my way before she’s hauling another large bag out of the trunk and heading to the stairs once again.

This time, though, I see the disaster a second before it happens. She’s lugging the suitcase up the verandah stairs, and her foot isn’t where it should be. She’s yanked off balance when the zipper of the suitcase catches on her shorts, and it manages to yank her backwards.

In a split second I know she’s going to fall. It’s only a couple of steps, but from the way she’s holding that bag, the fall will be nasty. Before I can even register that I’m moving, I take a few long strides so that she lands on my body with a thud that forces the air from my chest. But fuck her body feels good when I catch my breath. All softness and curves. I hear her gasp, as she realize where she is and how she’s landed—face down across my chest where her tits are pressed against me. The pink in her cheeks makes me smile, as does her face when she realizes that her hips are lined up with mine and that I’m completely hard.

She tries to scramble away from me, but I don’t let her. “Slow down, sweetheart. That was a hard fall. Take a second and make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” She pushes off my chest and I help her upright, and my hand lands on bare skin. We both freeze, and our eyes go to her hip, where her jean shorts have ripped in a way that’s nearly obscene and totally enticing, and if I wasn’t hard before, I am now. The side of her shorts spilt, almost all the way up to the waist, and I see a flash of hot pink silk from her panties. My hands are inches from the promised land, and I swear that I can almost feel the heat that she’s radiating.

We hang in the moment together, both staring at where my fingers are splayed on her skin. Melena’s breath has gone shallow, and she doesn’t move. What would happen if I pulled her in for a kiss right now? Would she resist me?

But I don’t do that. I told her that I would wait for her to beg, and I’ll keep that promise. And I don’t think I’ll have to wait very long. “Now will you let me help you with your bags?”

It snaps her back to reality and it suddenly dawns on her face how close we are to each other, how intimate this position is. “No.” She shoves herself away—successfully this time, and grabs her suitcase again and hauls it up the stairs. From my place on the ground, I get an absolutely glorious view of her ass, so I’m not complaining.

Melena holds her head high as she disappears into the house, and I can’t help but smile. Nothing about this has made me want her less. I’ve always loved a challenge. If anything, I only want her more.

This city girl is going to on her knees and screaming my name by the end of the summer. I guarantee it.

3

Melena

This is not the welcome that I envisioned. The house is rickety. It’s clear that it was beautiful at some point in time, but now it’s just a ghost of its former self. Paint peels from the beautiful molding on the ceiling, and the original light fixtures and chandeliers are draped with cobwebs. I find the room that’s obviously mine. There are only two rooms with furniture on the second floor, and judging by the open suitcase on the bed in the first room, mine must be the one next door. It’s sparsely furnished with just a bed and a dresser. The mattress is surprisingly comfortable, and the bed is made up with fresh sheets. Did Harlan arrange that? There’s a large picture window on one end of the room, and the view makes up for whatever’s missing in the décor department. Miles and miles of open land. It’s actually breathtaking.

As I unpack my bags I try not to think about the fact that the walls in this house are treacherously thin, or the fact that the room next to mine is quite obviously Harlan’s. Or the fact that our beds are pushed up against opposite sides of the same wall. I’ll have to fix that at some point. Something about knowing he’s just on the other side of that wall, well, I don’t think I’ll have an easy time getting to sleep at night.