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The wordMastriano’sfills my mind with images that I’ve only ever dreamed about. The restaurant is one town over, on the main street that leads to the super-church that we attend every month or two. Shiny glass and white napkins and olive oil glistening from beautiful carafes. “Could we really?”
Davis nods, like I’m just too cute, too sweet. “Yeah. We can pick up some things for you too while we’re out. And I think you should wear that dress from last night.”
My body rushes with that same molten need I felt the last time he looked at me like this. “Okay,” I say in a whisper, desperately trying to hide my fire-hot blush. “But, first, can I see the horses? I love horses. I’ve only ever been up close to them a few times. I always dreamed I could ride someday, but I’m probably too old to learn.”
Davis’s eyes narrow and his chest fills, setting down the rag with the oil and nodding toward the back door. “You’ve never too old to learn. Especially when it comes to horses. Let’s go.” He’s on his feet and my belly tumbles and twists. This all is like a dream.
As we reach the backdoor, Janie comes in from the kitchen.
“Mr. Ray!” She calls to Davis holding out a cell phone. “This thing been going off in your room something fierce. You gonna see who is it? Someone sure wantin’ to talk to you.”
Davis shakes his head, opening the door and easing us through onto the back porch. “Don’t need to talk to anyone. Just throw it on my bed and close the door. I hate that fucking thing sometimes.”
Janie looks down at the phone as Davis closes the door behind us and we work ourselves down the steps and into the bit of sunshine fighting its way through the clouds.
“I don’t like cell phones much, either. Not that I’ve ever had one, but they sure just seem to interrupt things. Most people don’t even see a beautiful sunny day because they’ve got their eyes on that electronic distraction. I’m grateful I don’t have one. Maybe weird, all the kids my age probably think they couldn’t live without one.”
Davis exhales, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing across my knuckles and his touch sends hot prickling over my skin. “Some people don’t know what’s important.”
A warm rush of moisture assaults the flesh between my legs again, stealing my train of thought, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind, besides all the sinful things I want to do with Davis. “Guess that big storm must have missed us,” I say, squinting up the sun.
“Always another one coming,” he engages me in the conversation of weather, grabbing my hand and jerking his head toward the gabled red barn. “Horses are out in the pasture, but I’m sure they’d stop their grazing to meet a sweet sugar cube like you. I know I would.”
“You graze?” I say, a smile teasing my lips.
“I graze on that hot little pink sugar maker you’ve got between your legs.” He quickens our pace. “I haven’t been able to fucking think straight since I tasted you. You’re turning me from a mountain man into a madman. I need my fix.”
A burning flash of shame envelops me like a reflex as the incessant pulse in my needy wet lady bits reminds me that I now have firsthand experience with the sin of lust.
It’s not even been twenty-four hours and I’m falling hard for this giant. I would even hazard to guess that these lusty feelings are generously mingled with love. As crazy as that sounds, in my heart, I know it’s true.
Our pace picks up as we head to the barn, the horses raising their heads from the green pasture when we approach.
But, instead of going to the fence and calling them over, Davis pulls me into the barn, shutting the door behind us and slipping the wood brace into the slots… locking us inside.
“But, the horses…”
“Plenty of time for the horses,” he says in a low grumble on a throaty exhale. “Horses are patient, I’m not.” Davis reaches around and takes my rear end in his hands. “I can’t stop thinking about how you taste. How you felt when I tore that cherry out of you, making you mine.” His fingers dig in harder, making me wince; a gasp escapes from me. “I may never get anything else done because all I want to do is mount you like a stallion and pump you full of me, morning and night. You trying to turn me into a crazy person, aren’t you?”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter as his eyes flash.
“What did I say about apologizing to me?”
He releases my backside only to bring down his hand in a hard swat, and it’s the starting pistol I need for releasing what’s inside of me.
“You said I never have to say I’m sorry to you. But, I’m always sorry. My whole life I’ve been sorry. For everything. For being born.”
I twist the soft flannel of his shirt between my fingers, trying to keep my balance. I slow my breathing as dizziness takes me when I look up at the fifty-foot ceiling in the barn and everything spins out of control.
“Come here.” He drags me along as I stumble and trip on the straw covered dirty floor. Davis slides open a large door, the scent of hay and the sound of an owl in the rafters overloading my city girl circuits. “From now on, when you feel like you need to apologize, you do it with your mouth, but not with words.”
I stare up at him, this other section of the barn is smaller. Saddles hang on the wall, lots of leather halters on hooks above, and a solid wood plank floor dusted with thick jute rugs.
“Okay,” is all I manage as he runs a hand over his head.
“Get down.” He points to the floor. “Sucking my dick is a privilege and a reward, Little Red. But, my cock can also teach you things. It’s going to be very important in your life from now on. It’s your job to take care of it. To let it teach you things.”
I nod as I drop to my knees without question; my eyes pinned upward on his, waiting for whatever comes next.
