She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy (3 page)

Somewhere along the line, she fell asleep.

She awoke to a wandering hand.

Heath was stroking the curls of her mound like he was petting the head on a dog. The fire spread rapidly from the tips of his fingers throughout her entire body as he slowly slid his fingers through her curls repeatedly.

Maybe he was just waiting on her to wake up. Maybe he wanted one more for the road. Whatever his motivation, sex was a means to keep his attention. She wanted to keep him, so she planned to have sex with him every chance she got. It would not be easy, but eight months in therapy needed to start paying off, now.

Slowly, she slipped a bold hand over his and pushed it farther down. Her middle finger pressed his middle finger as it slipped between the moistening lips. He made a small sound behind her. His lips pressed against her neck. His hips nestled his erection against her ass.

Nervously, she guided his hand. She was growing more liquid by the minute. Sex wasn't her favorite thing to do, and not just with Heath, it wasn't her favorite thing to do ever. She always felt dirty afterwards.

This time she didn't feel dirty; she felt right. Guided by instinct and something deeper, she focused on the here and now. Heath made more slow and low sounds. His breath tickled the back of her neck, sending delightful shivers down her spine. Another rock of his hips prompted her to adjust herself. Lifting her left leg over his thigh, she reached between her legs and stroked his shaft. Her fingers shook from the sudden pulse of lightning shooting through them.

A louder moan escaped him, and his other hand moved around her and grabbed her breast. Another surge of moisture pulsed through her as she realized this was definitely a side of her he didn't know. The liquid forming at the tip of his dick let her know he liked it.

The psychiatrist she saw in California told her the guilty feelings were normal. The woman also told her she would need to tell him, everything.
But not right now.

Pushing all of the negative thoughts aside, she let her body lead the way, focusing on Heath, herself, and what felt good.

Positioning the head of his cock at her opening, Chance slowly twisted her way down the length, rocking her hips left then right. Odd, how her body seemed to know exactly what it wanted to do to him.

Her name escaped his lips, and a moan left her own. He never called her name. He never really said anything during sex until last night. She circled her clit faster with his fingers. He squeezed her breast tighter, pinching the nipple almost to the point of pain before he released it. His hips barely moved, but she didn't need him to do anything from this angle.

Using his hip for stability, she pushed down on him over and over again. She chased the sensation building in her body, twisted and rocked until finally, she came.

"Oh Heath! God Heath.” He jerked suddenly and pushed himself an inch deeper. Wow! That felt even better.

"What the fuck?” He moved his hands, but his body was already there. “Shit! Ouch! Dammit!"

He came in what was apparently a painful burst.

"Ouch. Shit. Get off me,” he said, and she did. He was sleeping? No way did she just take advantage of him in his sleep! “Ouch."

He rolled to his back and held his stomach.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were awake.” Guilt assailed her. What would he think of her now? Feelings of shame and dirtiness began to resurface.

"Give me a minute.” He breathed deeply, held his abdomen. “God, that hasn't happened since I hit puberty."

"What?” She pulled the sheets up around her and watched him breathe. He finally started to relax.

"Waking up in the middle of an orgasm, cramps my stomach.” He snorted. “You didn't hear me snoring when you mounted me, Chance?"

"You weren't snoring, and you were the one who started it. You were stroking me. Or don't you remember waking up with your hands full?” She stared down at him. He smiled. The devil himself would pay for a smile like Heath's. He brought his hand up to his nose, sniffed, and then licked the fingers that had been stroking her.

She fought the onset of another orgasm. Where the hell did this man come from? He was acting as strange as she felt.

"I seem to recall having my hands in a cookie jar in my dream, yes.” His smile faded “But I didn't think it was real. I've had lots of dreams over the last year."

"About me?” Her heart thundered in her ears. She heard him last night. He called her name this morning. Would he admit it?

"You wish.” He looked her over then frowned. “I used to dream about you, and then those dreams turned to nightmares, so I stopped."

If he was wearing pants, they would have burst into flames with that lie! She saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes. She wanted so badly to coddle him, to hug him and promise him she would never leave again, but it wouldn't do any good. Heath wasn't the kind of man who liked to be babied, and she promised him she would never leave him before. Now, she was going to show it.

"Don't you think we could work something out for a little while?” She gulped. Her heart hammered at her chest.

Her mind drifted back to the last time she left, before they were married. When she came back from another useless attempt to sober her mother up, she moved into this house. His mother's room was now the guest room. Jan, his little sister, was still in a room upstairs at the time. Heath had the master bedroom, but it was still considered his mother's house. Emmy Johnson invited her to stay.

Not long after that, Heath proposed. She thought it was for the inheritance his grandfather left them. They needed to have a bride in order to collect it. When he told her he loved her, she didn't think it was real.

Shaking her head, trying to let go of the past, she looked at him. “I mean, you could still get your inheritance right? If I stuck around for three months or something?"

"Got it the other day. Jack's wife Bethany actually read the will. Wasn't a will at all. It was a book. Gave clues and well ... we got our inheritance, all of us.” He sat up and swung his feet over the bed. His big shoulders were like mountains; hell, Heath looked like a mountain. One she desperately wanted to climb on again.

"Then, you don't want to divorce me. I mean I could try to take half or something.” She hated the stupid words more than the desperate tone. He wasn't good at reading women's moods, even his momma told her as much, but he took those words literally.

"You want half, go for it. We don't have the money. It belongs to the ranch. Thanks to Jack's wife Bethany, it's an LLC. That's a Limited License Corporation. Big words for a cowboy, right?” The bitterness lacing his tone was so thick she could almost touch it.

"I wouldn't. I was just trying..."

"I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to fuck up my life again, but I won't let you do it.” He stood, stretched. Her eyes ate up every long lean inch of him. “Damn, we slept in late! Get dressed. My momma will be here soon."

"What?” Between all his praise for Jack's wife, that smack in the face with trying to fuck up his life, now his momma, her head was spinning.

"Momma. She's coming to meet..."

"Jack's wife, I know. Jack's wife, who you can't seem to shut up about. Who the hell is she anyways? It's not Candice. I know that for sure.” She folded her arms and watched him pull a pair of underwear from his dresser, still blocking the door.

"Bethany.” He smiled again. “God, I love that girl. Sweetest thing you ever laid eyes on. Wish I had myself a woman like that."

She was never jealous of another woman. It was a new feeling, one she didn't like one bit. Heath, for all his basic male qualities of stubbornness and self pleasure, never once gave another woman praise, or for that matter the time of day when they were together. Over the last fourteen years, she watched a lot of women come and go around this ranch. She was one of them. She left several times trying to find herself, her mother, but she always ended up back in Montana, and she always ended up back on his doorstep. It made her afraid of him. No man should have that kind of power.

The thought of him liking, much less loving, the woman Jack married singed her to the core. His words played over in her mind, the ‘sweetest thing ever’ comment. Those words didn't exist in his caveman vocabulary!

Chance glowered at him as he headed into the bathroom.

Good.

If she wanted to be jealous of Jack's new wife, that was fine by him. He still felt a little guilty for calling her a bitch, but only a little bit. After all, she did run out on him, ripped his life apart, and never looked back. He waited, hoped, and searched for four months. Then waited, hoped, and finally gave up after he realized her sister Star wouldn't tell him anything. It would figure Chance would come roaring back the night he made the decision to purge her from his life completely.

Yet, he was not doing a good job of it.

He stood under the shower and watched her walk past to the toilet. He continued scrubbing and rinsed. Just as she flushed, he turned off the shower.
Ha, ha!
She wasn't getting him with old tricks today. He wasn't going to play big brooding cowboy for her anymore either.

Hell, the less interested in her he seemed the more she was responding. Unlike his brothers, he didn't have a laundry list of women to his credit. Sure he had been around, but not with every woman in town. He could count ‘em on two hands, including Chance.

He was the oldest, and he didn't have time for girls. Between going to school and after school jobs, most of the girls he met were the ones his brothers brought around. Stupid, he fell for one of them. She had no idea what is was like wondering if his every touch compared to his little brother. Then, there were her weird issues with sex. Anytime they made love, she automatically pulled him on top of her, told him no to any new touches much less positions.

It almost seemed like she thought sex was dirty. He was afraid to do much else because he loved her. He didn't want to make her do things she obviously wasn't interested in doing. He bedded women with great skills in the past, but he didn't really like them in the morning. Chance was like fucking a mute. She kept her eyes closed and mouth clenched tightly, making him feel worse rather than better every time they did it, but he loved her.

Something was definitely different about her. Last night against the wall, this morning...

Damn! He was letting her get to him again.

"Heath, do I have any clothes here?” she asked and turned on the water to the shower. He watched her in the mirror making sure he looked away before she looked up and caught him.

"I don't know. Did you leave any?” He snorted and headed out. As much as he hated to admit it, he did love the woman, but he was done being anyone other than himself. His grandfather left him a letter along with his pocket watch, and the letter was all about time. Time wasted, time well spent, and the difference between the two. He had wasted entirely too much time on that particular woman already.

He dressed slowly, waiting on her to finish and walk out.

The walk-in closet built into each master bedroom of the main four houses was his grandfather's idea. His grandmother loved it. It was her place in the house. She could be messy or neat, and no one would know. When she died, he helped his Paw clean out the very closet his soon to be ex-wife was entering.

His grandfather discovered a lot of secrets in there. They found letters, old journals, photos, and other little treasures beyond a man's comprehension. His Me-Maw kept the first letter his Paw had written her, pressed the first flower he gave her. Simple little things meant the world to her.

He hoped to marry a woman like that someday. A woman like his Me-Maw, that's what they called her. However, he was the only one who still referred to them as Me-Maw and Paw. The others grew out of it.

The day she died was the first time he saw a grown man cry. As a child, he cried, too. His father scolded him for it, but his Paw said his dad was a damn fool.

Heath wondered now if Chance hid any secrets in the closet. He couldn't bring himself to go in there before. He didn't want to face any evidence she had been playing him for a fool all along.

He decided he would have to snoop around in there later. Nothing he would find could change things now.

"I can't believe these still fit.” She turned this way and that as he appreciated the length of her long tan legs. She was freckled head to toe, but she tanned enough over top of them to blend the cute little spots in a bit.

"You look the same.” He nodded. She didn't look the same at all, but he didn't want her to think he noticed. Her hair was longer, and she had stopped dying it blonde. He liked her better this way, but she never believed him when he said it.

"You look different.” She looked him up and down. He ignored the initial feeling of appreciation and tamped it down with the memory of her leaving. He needed a haircut, bad. He just could not find the time between working two jobs, moving out of Jack's house, and updating his own.

He reasoned that he moved into Jack's to save money. The three of them sharing one house saved on bills and gave them more to spend on the ranch, but he stayed there because he didn't want to be in this house, with her memories haunting it day and night. Each time he stole away to make sure everything was still in place, it cut him like a knife.

"I am different.” He took a few strides to the dresser and pushed it away from the door.

"I've noticed.” She followed behind him. He could feel her eyes on his ass, then his back, then his shoulders. He didn't know how, but he knew when a woman looked at him, but especially when this woman did it.

He stepped into the kitchen, grabbed the jacket, his favorite jacket, and threw it into the mud room on the washing machine. She picked up the remnants of her clothing from last night, her jeans, and then headed to the mud room as well.

He waited until she came back out.

"I'm going to make some breakfast. Do you want anything?” He made special effort not to look at her. Looking at her was what got him in trouble to begin with. She was eighteen, and he was twenty-one. He avoided her for a good five years, mostly. She still hung around with Jack and Candice, which meant she would be there at dinner or after dinner. She would be on the porch when Jack and Candice went down to the stables or the barn.

"I want to apologize,” she said in a small voice. One he never heard the loud wild child speak in before.

"Forget about it.” After all, he was trying to forget.

"I can't forget about it. I can't forget about any of it, especially you.” She started toward him and he backed up. Why did she have to put on those cut-off shorts, cowboy boots, and a tight little t-shirt? The woman was thirty-three not twenty-three. Granted she still had the body to wear it, but still. The outfit just reminded him of one fact; this woman was wild, not tame, not for him.

"You did a right fine job of it the past year, Honey. I think you can manage just fine.” He wasn't going to let her get to him, no way, no how, not this time.

"Will you just listen to me for a moment?” She slammed her hands on the counter.

He noticed instantly. His grandmother's rings were back on her finger. “I want those back,” he pointed.

"No. I'm not giving them back, and I'm not giving you a divorce either.” She propped her hands on her hips defiantly. Any man would have run by now, but Chance stood against him like a pretty little brick wall.

"Like hell you aren't. You'll do both, and you'll return those rings today!” he shouted and clenched his fists. He didn't want to lose his temper, but she was pushing buttons all over again. How could she infuriate him like this? She no longer mattered in his life. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. In a more calm tone, he explained things to her. “Those rings are an heirloom. They belong with my family, so when we divorce, you will have to return them."

Her mouth fell open. He realized she wasn't prepared to deal with the new Heath Johnson. The one she had zero affect on.

"Well ... I'll ... I don't have to sign anything. You can't make me,” she said flustered, sounding like a spoiled brat.

"Whatever. You don't sign it just takes longer to process. I got nothing but time. Legally separated though, I can move on, find a nice woman and start a family.” He shrugged. He could have sworn her eyes crossed. Playing the upper hand, he continued. “I have a date tonight, as a matter of fact. Thanks for taking the edge off this morning. I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

"You no good, lousy ... two-timing—asshole!” she shouted.

"This is what you always wanted, wasn't it? I worshiped the ground you walked on, never strayed once. I make one mistake, an honest mistake, seeing that you played my little brother against me over and over again. And you walk out. Was it that easy? I think you did it on purpose to tell the truth. You don't want a good man. You want what you're used to. I tried to be that for you, but the more I held back the more you wanted. Guess what? I'm not holding anything back now, Chance. I'm letting you go.” He looked at the clock and realized it was early afternoon, not morning. His mom should have been there already and if not she'd be arriving soon. “Shit. Let's go see if my momma's here.
She'll
be glad to see you. We'll just have to go to Paul's tomorrow."

"Fine.” She stomped out ahead of him.

"Fine.” He could feel one weight lifting and another settling in. He didn't have a date tonight, but he'd go out no less and be sure she didn't know where. He needed to find a date. He needed to find a woman who didn't want to fight every day or manipulate him. Chance started out one way and ended up like her mother. He remembered all that now.

He didn't know her mother very well. He heard stories about her. She was a manipulating, conniving woman who used men for money and moved on. Chance was just as wild, taking off at the drop of a hat and returning on a whim. Star, her sister, was the only one with any sense, but he avoided her like the plague after realizing she wasn't on his side. She always looked at him with pity. The whole lot of them was nuts, he decided, and it was time to move on.

Yep. Time to move on.