Ellen emerged from the bath water, wrapped herself in a towel and stood before the full length mirror. She gently towel dried her hair and let it tumble down her shoulders in damp curls. She let the towel drop to the floor, and studied her curves in the mirror, ran her hands down her smooth thighs. She was pleased with the progress from all the running, she definitely felt as if it was paying off. She was happier now staring at her body than she would have been four weeks ago, and felt confident and radiant.
But there was still something missing, or rather, something still intact. She'd really hoped this summer, her final summer before heading off to university to divulge in all sorts of delights, would be the summer she lost her virginity. So far, it was still intact. And while her small village had a couple of potential suitors for her – a little older than her eighteen years and suitably gorgeous – it just wasn't enough for Ellen. Dale had been her friend for four years, and it broke her heart to know that he desperately wanted more, and she could just not return those feelings.
But her eye had been caught by someone else; someone who she expected, behind his solitary existence, might have a little more experience, and might eventually notice her enough to want to show her the ropes into true adulthood. She could never tell anyone though, no one would understand her obsession, no one would understand that every night when she closed her eyes, she dreamed of Dale's forty-five year old, austere, strict boss, Tim Barker, of running his hands all over her young body, and doing those pleasurable things to her that she'd only ever heard stories of.
She pulled on her sexiest lacy underwear, a deep shade of purple. She held up a skirt adorned with flowers, considered it for
easy access
, and immediately tossed it to the floor, ashamed of herself. It wasn't like her to think like that, yet she'd found her recent thoughts – especially those intermingled with Tim Barker – to be very racy indeed. Quiet, shy, reserved Ellen. What was happening to her? She felt her cheeks flaming as she slipped on a pair of tight jeans and tank top. Her boobs were not big enough to warrant flashing any cleavage, but she didn't worry, he didn't seem the type to be buoyed by big boobs.
She let herself out of the house and walked purposefully down the lane, taking the familiar route to the farmyard. She felt a stab of glee to see his Range Rover still parked in the yard. It was getting late; his farm workers should have gone home by now, and Tim often worked alone late into the night.
Ellen strode past the barn of racehorses to the haybarn next door. A huge tractor stood parked inside the open door, its trailer piled high with hay bales. She took a deep breath and slipped into the barn.
Tim was alone. She smiled triumphantly. He turned with a frown as she strode confidently towards him, and let the bale he was unloading fall to the floor. He looked surprised to see her; he hadn't been expecting her. He wore black jeans despite the summer heat, and a pale checked shirt. He looked suave and sexy despite working hard in the hot, dusty barn. He was so handsome; a square jaw, thick dark hair, gentle stubble and dark, cool eyes. She was tall, but he towered over her, his austere, strong frame, huge broad shoulders and biceps – the result of natural hard work – that would be the envy of any young gym freak.
"What do you want?" he inquired.
"Dale said you warned him about me," she looked up at him with curious, hazel eyes that didn't give away the nerves she felt knotting her stomach.
He coolly met her gaze. "You're working your way around my farmyard; Dale, my brother, probably Charlie. Anyone else?"
His words felt like a stab to her heart.
He thought she was a slut.
He waited, observing that she didn't look too concerned by his accusation.
"That's a lie," she replied calmly, trying hard to hide her hurt.
He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead as he studied her. She looked so pretty, so natural as though she'd just stepped out of the shower. She smelled of coconut, and her hair was damp and shaped her face with an innocent demeanor. The way she looked at him, he knew what she wanted and didn't know if he could resist. He'd been trying to ignore her for weeks.
"The lad is besotted with you; he talks non-stop about you. I don't want to see him get hurt."
"It's none of your business." She cut him off, her voice husky. She had not really come here to talk about Dale. She leaned back against the trailer, her eyes never leaving him as she seductively looked him up and down.
He turned away.
What the hell did she think she was playing at?
He needed to stay away from her, but where she was concerned, his curiosity was beginning to get the better of him. He'd forgotten what a woman had taste like, it had been years since he'd even allowed himself to so much look as one. He wondered whether they tasted as sweet as he remembered...
He quickly stopped himself. She was young enough to be his daughter, and attractive young women did not normally throw themselves at him. He stopped himself – he didn't have a daughter, so why should he care? Nor a son, but he knew what it felt like to be a young, hormone-raging boy, and Tim would have thrown himself hungrily at her. But he was older and wiser now...wasn't he? He wondered how long it would be until her conscience kicked in, and she stopped looking at him so sultrily from underneath those thick, dark lashes. Oh, he could have some fun with her...
She stood up tall; he could have sworn she pushed out her chest as she took a step towards him. She stopped just inches from him, wishing her pounding heart would calm a little. He'd noticed the way she'd been looking at him, the sultry glances across the farmyard, the way her tongue swirled so seductively across her bottom lip. He'd have to be dead not to react to her beautiful curves.
"I don't want Dale. And I don't want your brother, James." she murmured.
He could tell she was nervous, she hesitated over words. She wrung her hands as she thought about her sentences carefully. His eyes didn't leave her, wondering if she'd falter under his gaze, and scarper – carrying that cute little rear back out of his barn.
He folded his arms across his chest, trying to distract himself from his twitching cock as his erection strained against his jeans.
"Don't my farm boys satisfy you enough?"
She looked away to shield her sadness. She hadn't been anywhere near his farm boys – in her whole life she hadn't been anywhere near
any
boys. Her best friend had told her to stand tall and ooze confidence.
Confidence is sexy, El,
she'd told her. But now it had backfired, and her faux confidence had lead him to believe she was a regular at this sort of thing. He'd got her all wrong, but she'd show him.
She reached forward and ran her slender fingers across his gentle stubble. She felt him tense as she traced his thickset jaw line, and she prayed he wouldn't back away. He didn't. His dark eyes followed her every move. She was so aroused; it was a strange feeling to her, but very welcome.
"There's only one person I want. And I know he wants me, too." Her heart pounded so hard in her chest as she looked him straight in the eye, and he held her gaze.
"And who is that?"
She stood so close she could feel his breath on her face. He saw the mischievous glint in her eyes.
"James' brother." She whispered. "
You
."
