sucking in his exhalation.
Raúl groaned and pushed back, helping her lay down on the hay. It stuck in uncomfortable points on her back and fuck , that’s what she’d needed. Her body fell open to him, pressing into the itch, seeking discomfort as it invited him in.
The young rancher settled between her thighs, eager. When he pressed into her she felt his hard cock through their clothes, nestled next to her pussy. It had been so long. The precarious wall in her mind began to crack, her patch job not keeping back the impending flood.
The kiss deepened. Raúl rocked his hips into her. Could she do this? It felt so sweet. Innocent. This is what she should have done first, she knew, when she left home. She should have found a nice boy. Made out a lot. Gone on dates. But she’d found Tony, and he had been whips and pain instead of flowers and kisses.
Maple tangled her fingers in Raúl’s hair, loving the coarse feel of it. It was dark, almost black like J.B.’s. The soft, pillow feel of his lips was nice. Her body ached, having missed the press of warm, male heat. But… that was it. This is nice . Nice wasn’t hot. Nice wasn’t needy, scratchy desperation. It wasn’t coming so hard she went blind for a moment.
Raúl would always be nice to her. Maple knew that. She’d get kisses, she’d get sweet terms of affection. But she’d never get the danger, or the anger, or the wild passion that she craved. The crack in her opened wider, dark tentacles of desire curling their way through. She didn’t just crave it; she needed it.
Fuck . What was she doing? The smell of leather and horses and hay filled her sense. The truth was there and she knew it: Raúl was wrong for her, and she was definitely not good enough for him. She could still feel Raúl’s erection pressed into her leg. Gently, she pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him off.
He leapt up immediately, his features softened in their confusion. In the low light of the barn, he really was handsome. Maple was sorry for what needed to happen next. In a different life, she might be rolling in the hay with her coworker, feeling the first-time butterflies of a new lover.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. We work together and--”
He sat back, concerned, and helped her up. Her stomach coiled as he brushed her shoulders clean and picked hay from her hair. “Look, I don’t mind if we work together. I really like you, Maple.”
His face was open, his heart in his hand. She didn’t want to crush it, but the consequences of letting him hope were beginning to swarm in, screaming at her for her stupidity. “No, I know. But I’ve only been here a little while. I’m still learning how I fit in. This is just… too complicated for me right now.”
He backed off. “I got it, I got it. Too soon.”
He clearly didn’t get it, because she heard the implication-- it’s too soon now, but one day it won’t be. Maple needed him to know there wasn’t a too soon , there was only a never again. The relief at having a situation end smoothly was overwhelming, though. She didn’t know how to assert herself, so she nodded, letting it go.
“Hey, no worries. I can’t help it, I move fast. It’s the Hispanic lover in me. You know, the Don Juan genes.” Raúl was already laughing and standing, giving her a hand. Pulling her up, he draped an arm around her. Apparently “too soon” didn’t mean backing all the way off.
“Wasn’t Don Juan Spanish?”
“Belleza, you’re smart, too?” Raúl’s hand flew over his heart. “I’m doomed.”
Maple couldn’t help it. She giggled. Raúl was sweet and charming, good looking and earnest. It was painfully obvious to her that it had been a long time since she’d had a friend; it was still hard not to pull back after every interaction and over-analyze it. For now, he seemed to be willing to let this go. Maybe, just
Raúl groaned and pushed back, helping her lay down on the hay. It stuck in uncomfortable points on her back and fuck , that’s what she’d needed. Her body fell open to him, pressing into the itch, seeking discomfort as it invited him in.
The young rancher settled between her thighs, eager. When he pressed into her she felt his hard cock through their clothes, nestled next to her pussy. It had been so long. The precarious wall in her mind began to crack, her patch job not keeping back the impending flood.
The kiss deepened. Raúl rocked his hips into her. Could she do this? It felt so sweet. Innocent. This is what she should have done first, she knew, when she left home. She should have found a nice boy. Made out a lot. Gone on dates. But she’d found Tony, and he had been whips and pain instead of flowers and kisses.
Maple tangled her fingers in Raúl’s hair, loving the coarse feel of it. It was dark, almost black like J.B.’s. The soft, pillow feel of his lips was nice. Her body ached, having missed the press of warm, male heat. But… that was it. This is nice . Nice wasn’t hot. Nice wasn’t needy, scratchy desperation. It wasn’t coming so hard she went blind for a moment.
Raúl would always be nice to her. Maple knew that. She’d get kisses, she’d get sweet terms of affection. But she’d never get the danger, or the anger, or the wild passion that she craved. The crack in her opened wider, dark tentacles of desire curling their way through. She didn’t just crave it; she needed it.
Fuck . What was she doing? The smell of leather and horses and hay filled her sense. The truth was there and she knew it: Raúl was wrong for her, and she was definitely not good enough for him. She could still feel Raúl’s erection pressed into her leg. Gently, she pressed her palms to his chest and pushed him off.
He leapt up immediately, his features softened in their confusion. In the low light of the barn, he really was handsome. Maple was sorry for what needed to happen next. In a different life, she might be rolling in the hay with her coworker, feeling the first-time butterflies of a new lover.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. We work together and--”
He sat back, concerned, and helped her up. Her stomach coiled as he brushed her shoulders clean and picked hay from her hair. “Look, I don’t mind if we work together. I really like you, Maple.”
His face was open, his heart in his hand. She didn’t want to crush it, but the consequences of letting him hope were beginning to swarm in, screaming at her for her stupidity. “No, I know. But I’ve only been here a little while. I’m still learning how I fit in. This is just… too complicated for me right now.”
He backed off. “I got it, I got it. Too soon.”
He clearly didn’t get it, because she heard the implication-- it’s too soon now, but one day it won’t be. Maple needed him to know there wasn’t a too soon , there was only a never again. The relief at having a situation end smoothly was overwhelming, though. She didn’t know how to assert herself, so she nodded, letting it go.
“Hey, no worries. I can’t help it, I move fast. It’s the Hispanic lover in me. You know, the Don Juan genes.” Raúl was already laughing and standing, giving her a hand. Pulling her up, he draped an arm around her. Apparently “too soon” didn’t mean backing all the way off.
“Wasn’t Don Juan Spanish?”
“Belleza, you’re smart, too?” Raúl’s hand flew over his heart. “I’m doomed.”
Maple couldn’t help it. She giggled. Raúl was sweet and charming, good looking and earnest. It was painfully obvious to her that it had been a long time since she’d had a friend; it was still hard not to pull back after every interaction and over-analyze it. For now, he seemed to be willing to let this go. Maybe, just
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