Hay
SOMETHING FLIP-FLOPPED DURING THE ride in the gas-guzzling, mega truck back to the Headlands Ranch compound. Instead of me asking Will questions and receiving one-word answers from him in response, he started asking me questions: about my family (my older brother, responsible, my younger sister, not), my school, my work, and my friends. And me being me, of course I talked a lot. Aside from his obvious good looks, there was something so attractive about this strong, mostly silent guy, taking an active interest in me, seeming to really listen, and asking follow up questions. This was probably because we were talking about safe topics, not politics or country music, which would have put us both into our default positions of protecting our belief systems. It was much better when we were being ourselves, without the political designations.
As we drove, I became acutely aware of the distance between us in the truck cab. He was so close, but not, since he wasn't touching me. I kept watching him—the muscles on his powerful thighs flexing as he moved his leg from the gas to the brake and back; his meaty biceps and forearms clenching as he shifted the car into drive and back into park; his flat belly moving as he spoke or took a breath; his dark eyes looking at me during the times that he tore his gaze away from the dirt road; his hewn jaw jerking if he found something I said amusing.
He drove me to a few other places on the ranch, which, size-wise was ridiculously large. I had no idea how many acres we saw. It seemed like his family owned half of California. He told me his dad had retired and left the operations to him. He employed office staff and a lot of workers, both seasonal and full-time. I saw the rangeland for the cattle, more of the orchards, and some of the fields of row crops. He also drove me to a section that had vineyards, and then to the Headlands Ranch winery. Apparently nearer to the highway, there was a small tasting room for the winery and he told me that he'd take me there to try the wine.
Could I potentially go there on a date there with Will? I liked that idea. A lot.
When we arrived at the compound, he parked the truck and Trixie jumped out. I leaped out of the high truck cab, and Will came around and walked me up to the bunkhouse. So, apparently for every Asshole Will, there was a Gentleman Will, too. When we got to the bunkhouse, he looked down at me, ran his hand through his longish, wavy dark hair, gave me a half-smile, and took off.
I watched him saunter back to his house, Trixie prancing at his side.
I’d left my phone in the bunkhouse and when I got to my room, I picked it up.
How was your second day of work?
This was Amelia. I texted her back.
I found out the hot guy who I thought is my boss is not actually my boss and he wants to do the nasty with me.
I thought this was summer camp, not a swinger's club.
We are complete political opposites and he is an asshole . . . sometimes.
How much of an asshole?
So far, less than fifty percent.
How hot?
Scale of 1 to 10?
Yes.
57.
Do the politics matter that much?
I don't know. I mean, yes, of course they do. This is me we're talking about. I live my beliefs. I’d be a moral failure if I slept with the enemy.
Girl . . .
I know. He's sexy as fuck, Amelia. I want to lick him. What do I do?
Lick him first. Ask questions later. If he's an asshole to you, dump him. It’s not a moral failure to have sex with a handsome man you like.
That's the strangest advice I've ever been given.
But I just might take it.
I'm here to serve. Speaking of serving, Ryan's at the door. Gotta go.
Fuck it. I was jumping Will's bones as soon as I could. I needed to get laid and I felt so attracted to him, obsessively so. There was no privacy around here, but I'd find a way.
In the evening, after dinner, I drank beer with Janine, Stephanie, and Cookie, sitting on the porch of the bunkhouse, watching the sunset, but Will was nowhere to be seen.
The next morning, Sunday, was my last day of prep before the kids got there. Officially, I had the day to myself, but I wanted to ride the horses again. After the motherfucking metal triangle woke me up way too early, again, I got up. I put on jeans, a white tank top, and boots, and fortified myself with coffee and cereal made with soy milk. Then I went to the stables with Janine and Stephanie.
"Hello, gorgeous," I cooed to Happy, as I combed him, gave him an apple, and helped the wranglers put on his pad, saddle, and other gear. After the horses were ready, Janine, Stephanie, and I set off down the trail, headed on a new-to-me trail. Our horses walked around the perimeter of a citrus orchard, out into rangeland, where there were cattle, up a road by grapevines, and then back down another dirt road to the compound. I loved being out on the horse in the morning. It was such a natural way to travel, feeling the warm, early summer air on our faces and skin, my eyes squinting at the sun. I thought about getting a cowboy hat to shade my eyes and giggled to myself about going country, instead of edgy hippie. But boots and hats were utilitarian out here.
We returned to the stables well before lunch and I helped put away Happy's tack and groomed him. Janine chatted with Stephanie, and they left for the bunkhouse to clean up for lunch. As I headed out of the tack room, I saw Will go into one of the barns.
Opportunity.
Last night I’d made the decision. He was going to be my plaything for the summer and I was shoving the politics to the side. Either that or I was embracing the fact that he was a very enthralling boundary that I wanted to cross in the most sinful way.
I’d picked arguing plus benefits. Hopefully with only minimal arguing.
I walked into the barn through a small door on the side and stayed in the doorway, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim light and the dust that had settled everywhere. This storage barn had bales of hay, farm implements, and lots of unidentifiable grimy mechanical parts.
Will stood by the hay bales, beginning to do something—no idea what—with some piece of equipment—couldn't tell you about that either. Because I was silhouetted in the doorway, I blocked the light and he noticed me. His face broke into a half-smile. "Need somethin'?"
"Yeah."
I strode slowly over to him, taking my time, making him wait, even though I didn't want to. I really wanted to run into his arms, to make him crash into the hay, taking my weight. I wanted to feel what his biceps felt like, gripping me, holding me.
The look on his face was a combination of wary and interested. When I got to him, he looked down at me, but didn't say anything. At first, he didn't move, just kept his hands where they were, one on the greasy farm equipment, one out. Then he carefully wiped them on a rag.
And then I decided to make the first move.
I reached over to him, put my index finger out, and trailed it up from his belly button to his chin, again slowly, taking my time. His expression got less wary and more interested. I looked him in his lovely eyes, put both hands behind his neck, and brought his face to mine to kiss.
Our lips touched, his soft lips on mine, and the kiss was sweet for all of about three seconds, and then, suddenly, Will Thrash was kissing me back like he meant it. Tongue engaged, devouring me. Hands in my hair, on my lower back pressing me to him, on my ass. My hands went crazy too, all over his strong back, his neck, his thick hair, his Wrangler-clad ass.
Now I've been kissed a lot, but never like this. It was like he had this frenzy inside him that he'd kept bottled up by being quiet all the time, and he just let it out, on me. His lips nibbled mine, his tongue chased mine, and after a really long time, he broke away and then was back, making his way down my neck, nuzzling me and sucking on my neck. I gasped, I couldn't help it, it felt so good.
I pushed on his shoulders, walking him back to the hay bales, and even though he had this rock solid body, he let me. In another instant, we were down on top of the hay bales, me straddling him, kissing him with all my might, an activity in which he fully cooperated. The poky hay stuck into the knees of my jeans, and poor Will probably had it pressing into his back, but he didn't act like he cared. In fact, I was pretty sure he didn’t because he hardened under me, and I felt it between my legs. Having been given a preview attraction upon arrival, I couldn't wait to meet his cock in person. I reached down between my legs and felt his length under his jeans, and he groaned. With steady, gentle pressure, I stroked him over his jeans as I kissed him, and his eyes went wild.
Boy. Stepping over a boundary was a fucking turn-on.
And then we heard a loud male voice call, "Will?"
We both jumped up, startled and disheveled. It was Jimmy, the older wrangler, who appeared in the doorway. I brushed off my knees as fast as I could, and straightened my hair, while Will adjusted his pants. I reached behind him and dusted off his back, trying to get the hay off of his black t-shirt, but I wasn't fast enough because Jimmy walked in the barn, shielded his eyes to get used to the light, sized us up, and smiled.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything."
Will didn't answer, but he was breathing hard and gave me a look I couldn’t read.
"I'll just be going," I said. "See you later."
I resisted the urge to pick a straw out of his hair and left him to explain himself, if he wanted to, to Jimmy, who'd clearly figured everything out already.