Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“See, nothing to be scared about,” she said cheerfully, wiping her hands on her apron again.
Smiling, I nodded and gave her a hug before picking up the basket of wet clothes to hang on the line. “You’re right. Nothing at all. Now, how about we get some fresh air?”
17
Goldie
I was lost in my thoughts as I kneaded the bread dough for this evening’s supper. Since being taken and forced to adapt to my new home, I had cooked, cleaned, chopped, planted, churned, milked, peeled, and washed. Everything an old-fashioned woman would be expected to do, much like their great-grandmother and all the women of past generations had done before me, had become a part of my daily routine. It had been a challenge, but with Kit’s help, the garden was finally in, the plants growing daily.
The men were just as busy. My sleeping patterns had definitely changed. With no television, no city noises or bright lights, exhausted by the work done each day, I was more than ready for bed not long after the sun had slipped behind the hills. I’d awaken with the break of dawn, slipping downstairs to start the coffee and breakfast once Kit brought in the eggs. By the time the men joined us to eat, they’d most likely chopped some wood, fed the livestock, or completed any of a dozen morning chores.
It didn’t take me long to realize that midday, they’d come inside and wolf down their ‘dinner’ as quickly as possible before leaving again. I started making sandwiches, wrapping them in a linen dishcloth, and leaving them as well as a bundle of cookies or slices of cake on a shelf in the refrigerator. Though the food wouldn’t be hot, they’d not have to come in from the fields to eat. They each thanked me that first evening, laying the folded, empty cloths on the counter. And while they did return for supper, I could see the fatigue weighing down their shoulders. Conversation would be focused around the land, and the progress of the cabin and other structures in need of repair.
Despite their thanks for the meals prepared or a refill of their plates at the table, it seemed like the brothers steered clear of me, and I’d found myself doing my best to do the same. But that didn’t mean I could avoid them inside my head. I was constantly journeying down memory lane, wondering what would have happened if Banks and I hadn’t been interrupted that morning. I pondered the looks I’d catch Banks casting my way, as if he were contemplating some great mystery. Memories of Jay and Rye, the feel of their cocks filling me, the demands made that my body seemed all too eager to obey, were constant companions.
Thinking of the brothers as I worked the dough, I wondered if the fire we’d once had, had simmered down. Was the chemistry I’d felt with each one nothing more than lust? Once they’d taken me, if only for a mere sample as with Banks, had that been enough to satisfy any curiosity they might have had? Was I so gullible as to believe I’d been more than just a fuck? I was actually grateful the chores never seemed to end; telling myself the brothers’ sexual needs were substituted with exhaustion.
I knew that I never had a moment to spare. I had never worked so hard in my life, so by the time sunset fell, I should have been able to keep my eyes open barely long enough to undress and collapse into bed. So why did I find myself lying there, my body cradled by the softness of the sheets, the sweet scent of roses filling the air while I wished I was in the arms of a Barrett brother, the aroma of pure maleness surrounding me as his cock, his mouth, his hands commanded my body?
I paused a moment, attempting to blow a stray ringlet off my forehead, but finally reached up and brushed it away with the back of my flour-coated hand, remembering how Banks had tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before his head had lowered and his lips had pressed against mine. A soft moan escaped me, my body responding, remembering how it had felt like I was being claimed with nothing more than a kiss. Shaking the memory away, knowing it was just that, a memory, I lifted my shoulders up and down a few times to ease the strain of making bread from scratch on top of all the other chores of the morning. I might not be able to ease the sexual ache in my body, but at least I could attempt to loosen my muscles, tight from life on the mountain.
“I warned you it was going to be hard work. We never tried to hide that fact from you.”