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He wanted me. I knew he was right; there were all kinds of reasons why he shouldn’t have pushed me up against the tack room wall, shoved my pants down, and fucked me hard and rough like he was punishing me for all the times I’d defied him. Not the least of which was that Casey would have caught us. That would’ve been bad. My father catching us would have been far worse, but that hadn’t stopped me from longing for exactly that along with a dozen other reckless scenarios. I needed Blake to bring me to heel, to force me to obey him. To make me care.
“Riley? Are you paying attention?”
“What?”
I stared at Blake’s mouth for a few seconds. Jesus, I wanted it on me.
“Riley.” His tone was sharper this time.
“Sorry. I…”
“You can’t be fucking daydreaming while were doing this. Someone’s going to get hurt.”
We’d been standing out in the baking sun for hours. I was tired and hungry and horny as fuck. Several of the other men had been sniping at each other too. It had been a long damn day, and I just wanted to be done.
“Couldn’t somebody else do this?” I could hear the whine in my voice, but I didn’t bother to moderate it.
“It’s just like what I told you with the tractor, Riley. We can’t always wait for someone else to do this for us. This fence needs to be fixed right now, not whenever some crew can get out here to fix it for us.”
“It’s almost dinner time, boss,” Casey said. That earned him a glare from Blake.
“We’ll get dinner when we’re finished.” He turned back to me then. “Hold this for me. Can you at least focus enough to do that?”
“Fuck you.” I’d said the words softly, but he’d probably heard me.
“I’m so sorry for asking you to do your job.”
“It’s not a real job. No one’s paying me for this.”
“So you’re supporting yourself now are you? Not taking any more of your father’s money?”
Anger burned in me. “Don’t you fucking talk to me like that.” I turned to go. Blake reached for me, but he was too close to the fence, the barbed wire caught his arm, and I stared in horror as blood welled up from a long cut.
“Fuck,” he yelled. “Riley, why couldn’t you just do what I told you?”
He’d warned me someone would get hurt. I could’ve just shut up and gotten the work done so we could all be finished for the day, but I’d had to be a brat. Now Blake was hurt, and it was my fault.
I needed to get the first aid kit from the truck and take care of him like he had me that day by the tractor. I needed to apologize. I needed… My chest felt heavy. I could hardly breathe. The world pressed in on me from all sides, and all I could do was run.
5
Blake
“Riley! Goddammit, get back here!” He didn’t even slow down. In fact, he ran faster. I should never have said that to him. It was my fault as much as his. I’d been careless around the fence because he’d pissed me off. I was hot and hungry, and I’d sounded just like his fucking father.
I looked at my arm. Blood obscured the cut, and I couldn’t tell if it was deep enough to need stitches. The ground began to waver, and the edges of my vision darkened. Maybe I should sit down.
“Boss? Are you okay?”
Casey’s voice sounded far away. My pulse thrummed in my ears, and my hands felt tingly and cold. Casey took hold of my arm and helped me to the ground, insisting I lie back. “Lift your arm.” He tugged on my wrist. “That’ll help slow the bleeding. Have you been drinking water?”
“Um… a little. I think.”
He huffed. “You’ve been too focused on Riley to take care of yourself.”
“That’s because he wasn’t focused on fucking anything this morning.”
“He was pretty well focused on you.”
Shit. It wasn’t just Maryellen who’d noticed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Casey raised his brows. “You know.”
I didn’t say anything else because Angelo was there now, kneeling beside me with the first aid kit.
“How bad is it?” I asked after he’d checked out my arm.
“It should be all right once I get it cleaned up. You’re current on your tetanus shot, right?”
“I am. I had a booster last year.”
“Good.” Casey looked at the cut too and also agreed a few butterfly bandages would take care of it.
“What happened?” Angelo asked.
“Riley pissed me off, and I wasn’t paying attention.”
Angelo shook his head. “That boy is trouble.”
“His father is mostly to blame for that,” Casey said.
Angelo started to protest, but Casey cut him off.
“You know it’s true. Blake is the only reason most of us stay here.”
“True or not,” Angelo said, “you better be careful who you say that around.”
