Page 8

8

DARYL

C ady opens her trunk to let me out, and I grin at her. “Thank you, Beautiful. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten I was in here, but I’m very glad you didn’t.”

“Michelle wouldn’t stop talking about quince jelly,” she says apologetically, looking over her shoulder at the taillights of a car, traveling away in the distance. “I know she means well and makes a lot of effort to provide conversation because she knows I’m lonely, but I’d honestly rather be alone than make small talk about things that don’t interest me.”

“She once cornered me in the diner for seventeen minutes of very one-sided convo about peach cobbler when she overheard me say it was my favorite, so I hear ya.” I unfold myself with a groan and take a moment to stretch and adjust my spine. “We need to get you a bigger car.”

“Or we figure something else out,” she says, dusting oats off the back of my shirt. “Sorry about the horse feed. A bag split on me a few weeks ago, and I thought I got most of it, but I’m still finding these little fuckers everywhere. Wh?—”

I clasp her jaw, and she stops talking. Her eyes search mine. “What?”

“I just love this pretty little mouth and all the sweary little gems it lets slip,” I say before flicking my tongue at the little gap between her parted lips. “You’re usually so restrained, intent on keeping up your father’s facade, but you’ve really dropped that mask for me, and I… I just didn’t know that I could love you even more than I already did.” I release her jaw, press my cheek to hers, and wrap my arms around her in a big hug. “And I know I can’t claim to be the cause of this gorgeous transformation, when it’s you doing all the inner work to get to that point of believing in yourself enough to be yourself, but I’m so proud of you.”

Stiff at first, she soon softens in my arms. “I think you’re the only one who ever knew it was a mask to begin with,” she says with a sigh. “And it’d be stupid to keep holding it up when you clearly saw straight through the lie.”

“Mmm,” I agree with a nod. “Regardless, it’s wonderful to see you realize what a gift you are as yourself and bless me with the company of your genuine soul. A lot of people would rather live the lie and deny who they are until they die, and I’m very glad that won’t be you.” I kiss the top of her head. “You want to introduce me to your mom?”

She nods against my chest but keeps her arms around me and makes no move to let go.

I run my hand over her back in big circles. “I promise I’ll use my manners and be on my best behavior.”

She looks up at me with sad eyes. “It won’t matter either way.”

I steal another quick kiss of her sweet lips. “Doesn’t mean I’ll be anything but respectful of the woman who brought you into this world.”

Cady flutters her lashes at me. “You say things that make me sound very special.”

“Because you are.” I flash her a grin and gesture to her house. “After you.”

She moves in the other direction, grabs a bag of poultry feed from the backseat of her car, and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ve got some chores to do before we go inside and meet Momma.”

“Hold up.” I step in front of her and make gimme wiggles with my fingers. “Don’t go making me watch you break your back with chores when I’m standing right here. Use me.”

She gives me a cute look, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she dumps the feed into my outstretched arms. “Oh, I plan to use every fucking inch of you, Daryl Winters.”

A charged thrill travels my spine, and my cock stirs with excitement. I look her up and down, and don’t try to hide my interest as it swells. “ Likewise .”

I hold the sack of grain with one arm and slap her ass to get her moving. I follow along, loving the way her curvy hips sway with each step. Her long skirt flows beautifully, but it hides her shape more than I’d like, and she keeps having to swish it out of her way to step over and through things. “Do you usually wear these clothes while you’re doing your chores?”

She glances over her shoulder. “You’d prefer I go naked and cold?”

“That would give me good reason and great access to warm you up,” I say with a smirk. “But seriously. Jeans would make this easier for you. And I know you have some. I’ve seen them. They’re the perfect kind of tight and hug your ass real nice, so there’s no hiding your shape.”

Cady looks back at me with drawn-down eyebrows. “They make my ass look fat, you mean.”

I hold the back of her shirt when she tries to walk away, and I lower my face next to her ear. “What I meant, is exactly what I said. If you’d like to hear the expanded version, it includes the graphic mention of just how hard my cock got when my eyes were lucky enough to feast upon your exquisitely curvy, denim-wrapped rump last month at the rodeo. Do you know how utterly degrading and impossibly counterproductive it is to have to jack off in a porta-potty because you unexpectedly caught your first real glimpse of the absolute glory that is your favorite woman’s ass, and you’re that fucking infatuated?”

Disbelief rules her face, and she shrugs from my grip to move away. “That says more about your perverted ass than it does about my curvaceous one, Daryl Winters. It borders on the ridiculous… or obsession, and neither of those things make you more believable.”

I take one big step to block her path. “Cadence Malone, I admit to being both ridiculous and obsessed. And a pervert. But I’m no damned liar, and if you don’t understand that I want to fuck your gorgeous ass more than anything else in this world, then we have a communication problem.”

She searches my face and purses her lips. She takes the bag of grain from me, dumps it next to the feeder near the chicken run, pulls a knife from God-only-knows where in her skirt — because I sure as fuck didn’t encounter it earlier — and slices it open. She upends the bag into the feeder and then bundles the grain sack under her arm. “What is it with you and asses?” she asks, sliding the knife back into a pocket hidden in the folds of fabric.

I swallow hard and feel my cheeks warm. “I just like them.”

She stands where she is, like she’s waiting for more information, and I sigh.

“I like the way they jiggle,” I explain. “How they feel in my hands, and the way they feel pressed up against me. I also love to give pleasure, so ignoring an area that’s full of those receptors is silly when stimulating an asshole inside and out means more fun for everyone. I certainly enjoy how hot and tight one feels around my cock, and I enjoy the privilege of having a woman trust me enough to let me inside there. It’s a real honor to be that intimate with someone, and people around here might think it’s taboo or nasty or a joke, and that I’m just a dirty piece of shit trying to get home, but they’re only jealous that I do what I want no matter what they have to say about it. They trap each other with all their opinions, but I’m unapologetically myself, and that makes me free. They can judge all they want, and I’ll only ever feel proud of myself and sorry for them.”

Cady stares at me and then grabs my shirt and yanks my face down to her level. Her lips are on mine before I can ask what’s happening, and I moan into her mouth as she opens for my tongue, suckling gently before matching my hungry strokes. Whatever I said obviously hit the right buttons, because holy shit . My sweet little librarian has definitely become a lioness today, and I have been dreaming about this for so damn long.

I tug her closer, hike up her skirt, grab her substantial ass cheeks, and lift her from the ground, guiding her legs around me. She automatically grinds against my swelling cock and rubs her tits at me, and I’m about to lose my fucking mind. I carry her toward the house. “Which room is your mom in?”

“Living room. Other side of the house,” she says breathlessly as I push through the front door.

We make it just inside the foyer before I’m ripping at her underwear. I reach around her ass, tear the soaked crotch of her cotton panties right open, and tentatively stroke her juicy cunt, asking for an invitation. She’s virgin. She said so herself.

“What are you waiting for?” She tilts her hips and nudges her cunt at my fingertips. “I may be a virgin, but I’m a pro at reading one-handed. Gimme all the fingers you want.”

Fuck . The images that play through my head send blood rushing to my cock. It practically lunges at her through my jeans. I push two fingers into her tight little fuck-hole and kiss her harder when she gasps around my tongue.

She rocks her hips, trying to rub her clit at me while my fingers slurp noisily in and out of her wet pussy. I push her back up against the nearest wall, so she’s got the right leverage, and her breathing quickly shifts into high gear. She’s so beautifully quick to fire. I’m going to have so much fun edging her when I can really take my time.

I pump my fingers at her a bit harder, and she gives me a series of pre-orgasmic little quivers.

“ Mmm . You like that, Baby?” I thrust at her, meeting her needy rubbing with a more powerful rhythm while I finger her. She starts to grab at my shirt, seeking a firm hold as she’s wound tighter and tighter by her impending release. She’s as invested in finding it as I am in giving it to her. Her sexy whimpers and panted breaths are music to my ears, and she’s made my fingers so slippery, I can’t help but want to test her receptiveness to ass play.

It’s soon. I know it is. Heck, she’s only learned for the first time today, what it’s like to have her sweet kitty tongued and fingered. But she’s taken both with impressive enthusiasm, and she knows damn well what my intentions are for her ass. It hasn’t exactly turned her off, if her current actions are anything to go by.

She slams herself at my thrusting hand and pushes her fingers into my hair, curling them into fists and tugging hard. I hiss and then growl at her. “ God , that feels good.” Inside and out. Her hands on me in any regard would feel amazing, but to have her touch me with such possessiveness is a whole other level of wonderful and surprising, and I couldn’t feel more blessed. Instead of restraining her desire, she’s unleashed herself to become who I always suspected she was. This woman has never been the mild-mannered girl others have made her out to be. She’s wild and strong and she knows what she wants, and I’m so fucking turned on by her.

I grip her ass and grind her against my aching cock even harder. She shudders and ripples around my fingers, her pleasure threatening to burst at any moment. And I know exactly how I want to send her singing over the edge.

As much as it may terrify my darling, inexperienced girl, I have to know. I have to. I slide one soaked and slippery digit toward her rear and circle her puckered little ring.

She gasps beautifully, but slows her movements, clearly thrown by the new sensation. For better? For worse?

I continue to rub at her asshole, slow and steady, as I curl my fingers inside her pussy and rock into her with enough intensity to keep our rhythm while she seems unsure. I want her to stay on the edge of peaking, where her body will chase what she wants and overrule any restricting thoughts her mind wants to throw at her. I want no room for shame or embarrassment between us. Pleasure doesn’t need to be overthought. Not when we both want it.

Cady responds beautifully, relaxing back into the motion and rolling with it. Soon she’s tilting her hips to make access to her backside easier, and with that inviting gesture, comes something even more impressive. Pressure .

She’s back chasing her pleasure, and she’s getting beautifully swept up in it. I’m not sure she’s even conscious of the way she’s started to thrust her ass at my circling fingertip, but I’m taking it as a good sign she’d be interested in penetration — I mean, she knows who she’s dealing with. I’m Daryl the ass-fucker. That’s got to be in her head, right? There’s no way she didn’t take that into consideration before she let me touch her like this.

Fuck . She’s definitely thought about me fucking her ass.

My cock strains against her heat through the damp denim of my jeans. She’s fucking soaked me. She thinks about my cock in her ass, and she’s excited by it. What a gift . If I wasn’t already convinced she’s my dream girl, I’d be certain now that she’s the perfect woman for me. I tune into her body with my full attention, ready to give her the world.

Her breaths are fast and ragged, and she’s milling her clit into me with reckless abandon, while thrusting to take my fingers as she pleases. She seems happy with me tickling her asshole, but there’s a sense of frustration about her, as if she needs something more. And she’s waiting for it.

I gently press inward as I slide my finger over her asshole. Not a lot. Just the very tip of my finger nudges the center of her ring before I pull it back. Her pussy quivers, and she bucks at me harder. For a woman of little experience, she’s proficient in body language. Whether or not she knows she’s spoken to me, she may as well have cried out, More .

I push at her puckered hole again. And again. A tiny bit deeper and more firmly each time.

Her cunt seizes tight around my fingers, and I grunt with approval. She stops mid-thrust of her hips, as if trying to hold back her pleasure, but I don’t let her deny herself. I grind my blocked and throbbing cock against her, stroke at her pussy walls, and push one slippery finger inside her tight ass.

Cady’s cunt clamps at me hard, as she fights her climax. “ Daryl ,” she pleads, breathless and desperate. Her fists are clenched so tightly in my hair, the sting is unreal, and I want to tear open my jeans and fuck her so badly I could scream, but I push that down and keep my voice calm. For her.

Her face is tucked close and turned away, so I can’t see it. There’s no reason for her to hide or hold back when she’s so close to crumbling, so I can only assume there’s something going on in her thoughts. Perhaps she didn’t expect a little ass play to prove so fun. Maybe she’s telling herself she’s all the things the shitheads in town say about me. Maybe she thinks coming would make those things true, and that makes her bad and wrong.

“You’re allowed to like whatever you like, Cady,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a kiss to her hair. “You can let go.”

She whimpers, and her pussy trembles with the strain her muscles are under to prevent her release.

I slip my fingers from her holes and shrug at her. “Show me your face. I need to look in your eyes.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she peels her body away from mine and leans back against the wall. Her face is flushed, her eyes flit about trying to avoid mine, and she looks about one wrong word away from crying.

I pull her in close again, hugging her to me as I look around the entrance foyer of her home. It’s decorated with family photos, more of the coats on the rack are her dad’s than hers, and when I take a few steps down the hall and crane my neck, I see her mom sitting in an armchair, staring straight ahead, soulless. A pretty, but eerily absent woman, Margot Malone is a ghost. A sadness befalls my heart for her, and for Cady, and for the fading, beautiful home Cady works tirelessly to preserve.

Her house is haunted. At least, this part of it is. “Where’s your room, Cady?”

She lifts her head from my shoulder to search my face and then points to the stairs to the left.

I carry her up them and follow her directions until we arrive in a large, airy room with big windows that give a beautiful view of the sun lowering beyond the green hills. I’m pretty sure it feels spacious because her bed is a single. I have to wonder if it’s the only one she’s ever had, because the cover is the kind of frilly pink and white one that a six-year-old girl might choose.

I lower her slowly to the floor, suddenly all too aware of the massive step she’s taken to be intimate with me. It’s a bigger leap of faith than I could have imagined, and I look at her, understanding just how strong and brave she truly is, to decide to go after what she wants. The responsibility to support and protect her through the process now rests squarely on my shoulders, and I’m determined not to let her down.

I walk over to the bed and tear off the bedding until only a bare sheet remains, then I return to Cady and meet her gaze. “You’re a grown, beautiful woman, and you’re allowed to feel good.”

She nods. “I know,” she says quietly. “And I want to. With you. I don’t mean to be skittish, I’m just used to doing things on my own.” She walks past me and retrieves a hot-pink vibrator from the bedding I’ve thrown on the floor.

She look around, sighs, and gestures to her girlish decor with the vibrator in her hand. “And I know what this looks like, but it’s not who I am. The innocent way it looks keeps my dad off my back and makes it easier to hide less innocent things in here, so don’t go making any other kinds of assumptions.”

“Okay.” I follow her over to her bedside drawer, where she stashes her vibe. I try to peek over her shoulder, but she closes it too quickly. “What else have you got in there?”

She turns back to face me and snuffles a laugh from her nose. “Just a few good books and a couple of clothes pegs I use for nipple clamps sometimes. I’m saving up to run away, so my budget won’t stretch much further.”

“I see.” My mind and cock leap for joy, and I look around her bedroom and nod. “It’s a pretty good bedroom for an undercover badass.”

She gives me a saucy smirk. “I keep trying to tell you I’m not who I’ve been painted to be. I’m a virgin, but if you’re expecting me to bleed or something, you’re barking up the wrong bush.”

I swear under my breath and lunge at her.