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“Shit,” she says. “A shed would block this beautiful view.”
We both look over the view of the fields the barn offers.
“And look at all this additional space we could use for outdoor seating,” I point out. “But the tractors aren’t behind the barn. They’re parked behind the production facility. We could build a shed back there for the equipment and transform the barn into an incredible venue.”
She tosses her arms around me, knocking me back a step. We both laugh.
“Spencer, that’s genius!” she squeals.
It’s her excitement over expanding this place that gets me feeling excited, too.
And horny.
Very horny.
Why is it that every time I’m around her, I lose all control?
I let her go and lower the garage door, sealing us back into privacy, and then I walk back over to her and take her in my arms.
I lower my lips to hers, and she kisses me back with that same level of excitement and enthusiasm. I walk us over toward one of the divider walls where the spare barrels are kept, and I lift her up and prop her onto one.
It’s the perfect height for me to shove my hips against hers as I deepen the kiss, urgency rushing over me with the need to be inside her.
We have privacy here, and we’ll hear if someone walks in. These are the things I think about—making sure she can keep her modesty, making sure nobody else gets to see what’s mine now.
It’s the first time that possessive thought has popped into my mind.
I have to admit, the flowers threw me.
In my mind, I know they were from Amelia, not Grace’s ex as signed on the card. But the thought that someone from her past could walk in at any time is unnerving…especially combined with the way my relationship with Amelia came to an end.
It was over long before I knew she was cheating on me, but that doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Is there something intrinsic about me that makes women feel like they can cheat on me? I’m not a leader like Lincoln. I’m not gregarious and outgoing like Grayson. I’m not wild and spontaneous like Asher.
I’m just me. The borderline nerdy guy who likes numbers and businesses and finances, who prefers to build Lego sets during his downtime and also happens to play football professionally. I’d prefer my privacy out of the spotlight, but given my family history, paired with my profession, that’s not always an option.
And it feels like Grace gets that. It feels like she even wants that. It’s so far removed from the women of my past that sometimes it feels like a dream.
Something has to go wrong.
But for now, I plan to revel in everything that’s right.
I pour that into my kiss, both of us panting as our hands explore haphazardly. We’re newlyweds, and it sort of feels like it this time after our playful run here and the idea session we just shared and the future spanning out before us.
I could get used to that feeling. I could get used to having Grace in my life.
I don’t want to pour too much of myself into her if she really intends for this to end in a year, but every day I spend with her, the hope is that she’ll want to keep going once that year is over.
That thought spurs me to action. I reach up the leg of her shorts, push her panties to the side, and slide a finger into her.
“Oh!” she gasps, clinging onto me around my neck.
I hiss as I feel how wet she is. She’s always so hot and ready for me, and this is no exception.
I keep kissing her as I bring her higher and higher, closer and closer to the edge, and even though this is still so new, I’ve gotten to know a few things about her body already.
Like the moment when we’re about to hit the point of no return, that’s the moment I slide my finger out of her, grab the condom out of my inner pocket, pull my cock out, and roll it on.
She shimmies out of her shorts to give me more room to work with, and I pull her tits up over her sports bra because I need a taste before I slide into her. She looks so gorgeous there in just her sports bra, perched on top of a barrel, her tits perky as she sits ready and waiting for me, her lips parted and her eyes hot on mine.
