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He raised an eyebrow, a silent invitation for me to spill the beans. I shrugged, playing it off. "Just killing time. How was your day?"
I hesitated to share my job offer. The fear of altering the delicate balance, of introducing a potential game-changer into our relationship, held me back. For now, the city and the job offer remained tucked away, waiting for the opportune moment to step into the light.
"Well," he paused and looked at me. He slightly smiled, as if he was thinking about something. I smiled up at him. "Much better now." He smiled at me. His voice was low and his eyes filled with lust as he looked down at me.
"Are you hungry?" I asked. I was trying to distract myself. He looked handsome. Really handsome. I wanted him. I turned toward the kitchen, silently blowing air out of my mouth, attempting to control my breathing. He was looking at me with so much heat.
“Yes, but not so much for food.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to face him.
“Christian,” I giggled. He pulled me close to him and tilted my chin to look at him.
“I know this engagement might be fake, but you’ve changed me in ways you will never be able to understand. And I’ll never be grateful enough for you.” He closed his eyes for a moment and rested his forehead against mine.
I leaned up and kissed him, soft and slow, pulling him into me. I frantically ran my hands around his body, tugging at his clothes.
“Wait, where is everyone?” He looked around the house.
“Tamara isn’t here and Brett went to the store,” I said breathlessly. I stopped and pulled my shirt off, pressing up against him.
He grabbed me and picked me up, carrying me to the bedroom. Once we reached the bedroom, he pushed me onto the bed and began pulling his pants off. I followed suit, stripping down naked and throwing my clothes into a pile on the floor. He quickly undressed, as well, and leaned over me. He positioned his hips so he was ready to push inside.
“Please,” I grabbed Christian and kissed him hard as he pressed his entire cock inside me. I was wet and so ready for him, he immediately started going fast. It was hot. We were sweaty and panting. It was rough and like we hadn’t seen each other in weeks. We were biting, licking, kissing, and sucking. Anything that would bring us closer together.
“Oh, Casey.” Christian picked up his pace, closing his eyes and grabbing a handful of my hair. I moaned loudly and came underneath him. He smiled as he watched me moan and writhe in pleasure.
“You’re perfect,” he said just as he came inside. I felt him tighten around me, holding me tight. I smiled and we held each other until our breathing was back under control.
The next day on the ranch, we finished fixing the fence and started clearing out more brush. Beneath the expansive sky, our trio orchestrated a symphony of renewal across the field. Christian, his chainsaw humming with purpose, skillfully navigated through the unruly branches, transforming the overgrown landscape. Beside him, Brett wielded a hedge trimmer, its rhythmic buzz harmonizing with the melody of Christian's chainsaw. Together, they sculpted the field, revealing the latent potential hidden beneath the wild facade.
My role in this collaborative effort involved collecting the severed branches, creating a large burn pile. The invigorating scent of freshly cut vegetation permeated the air, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the awakening field.
Amidst the collective labor, my gaze naturally gravitated toward Christian. His every movement exuded strength, the chainsaw an extension of his purposeful determination. Watching him work, I couldn't help but appreciate the rugged charm that accompanied his effortless mastery of nature.
Furtive glances were stolen, acknowledging the beads of sweat on his brow—a visible show of the exertion poured into the ranch's rejuvenation. Christian's focused expression bespoke a man deeply connected to the land, and I found myself drawn to the captivating sight.
While Brett remained immersed in the precision of his trimming, I continued bundling branches. The hedge trimmer continued its melodic hum, completing the final touches of the revitalization process.
As we worked, the field underwent a metamorphosis, evolving into a canvas of renewed possibilities. In the midst of the vibrant chaos, I marveled at the beauty of collaboration, growth, and the promise embedded in the revitalized ranch.
Seated in the truck, the engine's hum and the rhythmic bounce of the tires against the uneven ground provided a backdrop to our journey back to the house for lunch. Christian, at the wheel, guided us through the cleared field with a confident ease. I stole a glance at him, the corners of his lips curled into a contented smile as the ranch sprawled around us.
As the truck meandered through the expanse, I couldn't escape the warmth that spread within me. Was it the comforting company of the day's work or something more? My thoughts danced on the edge of a realization, a sentiment I'd been skirting around.
The sun-kissed field stretched out before us, the remnants of our labor a testament to the rejuvenation in progress. Christian's easy smile, the casual banter with Brett, and the shared moments—all formed the threads weaving a tapestry of connection. The realization unfurled within me like the field blooming after a long winter.
Could it be? Was this more than friendship? As the truck rolled along, the truth loomed on the horizon like the ranch house in the distance. A quiet acknowledgment crept into my mind—an admission that the fluttering warmth wasn't just gratitude for shared tasks; it was the budding realization of something deeper.
Christian's presence, his unwavering support, the laughter we shared—all of it intertwined to form a tapestry that seemed to be woven with threads of affection. The gentle smile he bestowed upon me, especially now, navigating the truck through the field, stirred emotions that hinted at more than simple friendship.
With each passing moment, I found myself leaning into the idea, entertaining the prospect that what had started as a partnership in reviving the ranch might be evolving into a connection that extended beyond its fences. Love, a word that danced at the edge of my thoughts, beckoned to be acknowledged.
Yet, as we neared the house, I couldn't deny the subtle flutter in my chest, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. Love, after all, was a complex landscape, and navigating it required a vulnerability I wasn't entirely sure I was ready to embrace.
As we got out of the truck near the ranch house, Christian's gaze lingered on the scarred side—the aftermath of the deliberate fire that had marred the welcoming façade. A tinge of sadness flickered across his face.
I couldn't help but sense his grief, a connection to the place that went beyond the physical structure. In that moment, a silent understanding formed within me. The ranch held a piece of Christian's heart, a sentiment I revered and sought to support. Yet, as my eyes traced the contours of the house, a subtle doubt crept in.
A nagging voice whispered, asking if I mattered as much as the restoration of these weathered walls. The rational part of me knew I was here to help, to assist Christian in securing a loan for the ranch's revival. Yet, emotions, like shadows, danced at the periphery of my consciousness.
