Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
I smile. “He was looking for help, and I don’t mind. I expect you to come to a late dinner, because I’ll have some stuff to show you.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he murmurs, pulling me in for a kiss before sweeping us back to his house and his bed.
9
Clayton
When I wake in the morning, Rachel isn’t beside me. Which is a pity because I was looking forward to rolling over and burying myself in her first thing this morning. She was so exhausted last night after everything, that we didn’t have sex after returning home. We just fell asleep.
Where could she be?
Not in the bathroom or the guest bedroom, so she must be out and about. I did tell her to take a few days to explore, but I’m just craving her presence, and her mouth. I want to kiss my wife good morning. That’s a phrase that I worried I would never get to say, and thinking it warms my chest.
I’m still shocked that she agreed to my request. The few relationships I’ve had, my intensity in the bedroom has scared them away. When I posed the same question to my last girlfriend, she scoffed at the idea of giving up any kind of control.
We didn’t last long after that.
But Rachel seems to crave it. I felt her shiver when I was telling her what I wanted. The way her eyes dilated and went unfocused, imagining all the possible things that could happen between her and me.
Yeah, I need my wife in my bed right away.
I dress quickly and start my search. The nice thing about running the ranch is that there isn’t anything that I have to do. I didn’t lie to Rachel when I told her that everyone pulls their weight around here. We all do, and I do as well.
But most of my day isn’t spent like yesterday, doing mundane tasks like painting the barns. That was the exception to the rule. Most of my days are actually spent running around the ranch, helping other people solve problems and approving the solutions.
Speak of the devil, one of the ranch hands waves me down, and I am side-tracked into helping him fix an urgent problem with one to the corral gates. The last thing we need is cattle running free over the pedestrian portion of the ranch.
It doesn’t take too long to fix, and I cut through one of the stables on my way back to looking for Rachel, wondering if it would be faster if I used Exo in my search. But then my gaze falls on the supply rack in the stable, and I freeze in my tracks.
Rope.
Lots and lots of rope.
Oh, that is an idea. I told Rachel that I was going to tie her to the bed and tease her. Now is as good a time as any to show her that I am serious about what I said, and to see if she is really as willing as she said she was. There is plenty of time before she needs to report to the kitchen tonight.
My nerves jangle at the thought of her taking charge in the kitchen. I know she can do it, but how will the staff react to someone just coming in and taking over without so much as an introduction? I have to examine my reaction. I did tell her to pull her weight, and that’s what she’s doing. I can’t be angry with her, but I still might have a conversation with her about order of operations.
She owns this ranch with me, but I run it.
I take several lengths of rope from the supply rack and sling it over my shoulder. It is much more than I will need, but better have too much than not enough. Wouldn’t want my wife to be able to escape.
I laugh out loud at the thought.
Quickly, I make a lasso, and carry it with me as I search the grounds. When I find her, I am freshly annoyed jealous that she didn’t wake me up. Rachel is at the archery range with a beginner bow shooting arrows at a target.
I wish I were the one showing her how to shoot, getting up close and personal while she pulls the string. She draws an arrow back and releases it. It goes flying—nowhere near the target. I can’t help but laugh. Her head shoots toward me and she scowls. “I’m not very good.”
“That’s what practice is for,” I say, tossing the lasso into the air directly toward her. It lands true, and I pull it tight around her hips with practiced ease. She yelps as I yank her toward me. “Clayton!”
“Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Well,” I smirk, “I woke up to an empty bed. So I think you owe me a kiss good morning.”