“I meant there’s no way you weigh that much,” I stuttered out. “You don’t look like you are. You look like you’re way skinnier…not that being that weight is a bad thing. You look amazing. Fuck, I’m just going to shut up now.”
She started to laugh, and I got my first good look at the jeans that she was wearing. Or more like, the jeans that were wearing her.
Jesus Christ, they were tight. And they fit her ass perfectly.
They also had holes in them, placed sporadically in certain places so as not to show any parts of body that should be covered. Yet the holes were so well placed that they gave a glimpse of the skin leading to forbidden places.
Such as the one that was on the back of one thigh. If I were to poke my finger through the hole, I’d be able to touch things that she probably wouldn’t want me touching.
Then there was the one that was on the inside of her thigh.
Jesus Christ.
“Ready?” she asked.
I looked her over.
“Where’s your gun?”
I figured since she now had her license, she would be carrying, but with her clothes as tight as they were, I couldn’t see how she could hide the gun even if she tried.
Yet, I was curious.
My curiosity always got me into trouble.
“I don’t have a gun.” She looked away. “When I shot that guy who broke into my house…I decided I probably should get rid of that one. It had bad ju-ju.”
I sighed. “Your brother has one.”
She shrugged. “My brother’s already done a lot for me. I’m not going to continue to use him for my personal gain.”
My lips twitched.
“You can borrow one of mine,” I offered.
She lifted her chin slightly.
“No.”
Rolling my eyes, I handed her the license and said, “Make sure to keep that on you. If you get pulled over, be sure to hand them both licenses.”
“Why?” she questioned.
I hesitated. “Why not?”
“What if I don’t have my gun on me? Why bother to pull out both?”
I grinned at her. “If I pulled you over, and you only handed me your driver’s license, when I got back to my car and ran your name through the database, and noticed that you had a concealed carry license, I’d wonder why the hell you omitted that fact. Were you hiding something? Were you going to shoot me when I came back to your car to give you the ticket?”
Her mouth opened, and then closed.
“Maybe you’re just weird.”
I chuckled as I headed for the door and held it open for her.
She passed by me, touching me as she moved, and I knew it had been on purpose.
There’d been quite a bit of room between me and the doorjamb, and she had ample room to move through without brushing against me from chest to crotch.
She made sure to rub against me, and my already hard cock stiffened even more.
“I’m not weird,” I said, trying to hide the need that was starting to leech into my voice. “I’m a cop. Cops already have to worry about everything under the sun. By you not giving me the license, it’s like you’re hiding it from me. Then all the situations we’ve been in, or our compatriots have been in, start to cycle through our brain. It’s little wonder that we can walk up to car windows at all without automatically pulling out our guns just in case.”
She stayed silent as I held out my hand for her keys, and quickly locked the door behind us.
She continued to stay quiet as we made our way down to my bike, where I offered her my only helmet.
“You need to get one of these for yourself,” she mused as she placed the helmet on her head and tightened it.
I grinned. “You keep riding on the back of my bike, baby, and I’ll do that.”
Her smile was small, but that was nothing compared to the way she got onto the back of the bike behind me and wrapped her hands around my waist. Willingly.
She pressed close, resting her chin on my shoulder, and gave me a little squeeze to tell me she was ready.
And I wanted to crow to the heavens that she was actually giving me the time of day.
***
“This is the best day EVER!” Audrey cried, bouncing slightly in my lap.
The grin that was splitting my face was enough to hurt. I’d been doing that—smiling—for hours now.
When we’d gotten to my place, instead of taking her to the shooting range immediately, I’d taken her to the barn where I housed my tractor.
After making sure she had adequate shoes, I’d helped her into the tractor and deposited her in my lap as I gave her a quick lesson on how to run everything.
“So what now?” she begged, eyes wide and excited.
“I don’t really have anything to do right now,” I admitted. “I just mowed the pasture last weekend, and you just did the only other thing I had to do—which was mow the front lawn. The only thing I really have to do, at this point, is even out the road over there…”
She clapped her hands, and then put the tractor into gear. “Okay, let’s do this.”
And that was how I ended up showing a city slicker ‘never seen a cow up close before’ woman how to dig with a tractor. She sucked to be honest, but so did everyone at first. That was how it went. The more practice you had, the easier it got, until it came as second nature.
I could literally hitch up the mower attachment in thirty seconds flat.
When I’d first started this over ten years ago, I hadn’t had a fuckin’ clue how to do anything. Let’s just say YouTube had been my friend.
“You’re pretty good at this for a newcomer,” I said, leaning back and letting her have complete control of the tractor.
My legs were hurting where she’d been sitting on them for the last couple of hours, but I didn’t care. Not when I could see her excitement lighting up her eyes every time she did something right.
“I’m a boss,” she declared.
I shook my head and placed my hands behind me head, linking my fingers to keep them from moving through her long curls.
“A boss,” I grunted, trying to hide the desire that I felt.
I wanted her.
I wanted her so badly that it was getting to the point of pain, but did I make her stop wiggling on my lap so my dick could have a little rest? No. I did not.
Instead, I let her move on my lap as she did her digging—fucking up my driveway in the process—to her heart’s content.
I didn’t bother to tell her that she was massacring it. Especially when I saw the uninhibited joy that was written all over her body.
“Okay,” she blew out a breath. “I’m done.”
We both looked at the driveway.
“You’re definitely going to need some more practice,” I told her. “Do you mind?”
She started to shift off of me and reach for the door handle, but I halted her movement with a hand placed on the soft swell of her belly.
“Stay,” I ordered, pushing a little more firmly. “Just lean back and give me some room.”
She did, leaning her entire back against my chest.
She wasn’t even stiff, instead she was relaxed and comfortable as I moved forward, caging her in between my arms and the steering wheel.
I took over the control of the brake and accelerator, and she let me without protest.
She watched as I smoothed the driveway back into place easily. Much more easily than it’d come up.