I sit up and push him off me. I know there’s no way I’m physically capable of doing that, so he lets me do it and allows me to have my space. He might be a jerk, but at least he’s got some manners.
“Just take me home so your good deed can be done for the day, seeing as I’m just a charity case now.”
“Dolly, it’s not like that.” He grips the steering wheel so damn tight I’m surprised it doesn’t protest.
“I got your message, Brandon.” I slowly enunciate his name, exaggerating each syllable.
He huffs through his perfect nose before putting the truck in gear and pulling out of the parking lot. It’s dark back there, so thankfully nobody witnessed our exchange. Not that there was anything good to see.
My teeth are clenched the whole way home, and I don’t speak a word to him. He starts to talk a couple of times, because I see his mouth open and then close. He must know I’m pissed, because he doesn’t try to push it.
We get to my road and drive under the metal arch that reads The Dairy Queen Ranch. My dairy farm is one of the best in Texas and everybody knows it. I’ve got the best cows, on the best land, with the best equipment. I take the title of Dairy Queen seriously, even though some see it as a joke.
When we get to the front of the house, he stops the truck and I start to jump out, but before I can, Brandon flips the locks, stopping me from exiting.
“What?” I ask, not looking over at him. I stare out the window, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Look at me, lamb.”
I close my eyes, both hating and loving that nickname. Because it’s from that day. The day I fell in love with him. It wasn’t just a young girl’s infatuation with an older guy; it was me seeing him for who he truly was as he held that tiny animal and laughed with me. He called me his lamb that day, and I don’t think he truly understood what that did to me.
I can’t do it. I can’t turn and face him, so I keep my eyes closed and wait for him to say his piece so I can get the hell out of this truck. This night has turned to absolute shit, and I need it to end.
“There are so many things I want to say right now, but I need to let you walk in that house.”
“And what if you don’t?” I snap, turning to face him. My anger is getting the best of me tonight, and I blame it on the tequila.
“If I don’t let you walk away from me now, I might not ever be able to,” he confesses, and it nearly splits my heart in two, because just as he says it, he unlocks the doors.
I grip the handle tighter, ready to exit but not ready to leave him. We don’t get many moments like these, and I hate that it’s turned into this.
I want with all my heart to throw myself at him, but I won’t be the one doing the chasing. As much as I want him, I’m the lamb, not the lion. And he damn well knows it.
“Listen to me, Daddy. When you get your head out of your ass, you know where to find me. I’m not the kind of girl that will sit around and wait, but I promise you this right now—there won’t ever be a man that I want more than you.”
With that, I pull the handle and jump out of the truck, slamming the door behind me. I stomp across my driveway and onto my porch, fling the door open, and go inside. I kick it closed and lean against it. I wait for five solid minutes to see if he comes after me, but eventually I hear the roar of the truck as he leaves.
The worst part is, I know tonight when I lie down, I’ll still think of him when I touch myself.
3
Brandon
I watch Dolly enter her house and shut the door. I want nothing more than to carry her into the house myself. Thoughts of a night out on the town, where I take her dancing and she has a little too much to drink before I bring her home and spend hours loving her body, flash through my mind.
I slip from my truck and up onto her porch, checking to make sure the door is locked. I stand and listen to her setting the alarm, before I finally make myself walk away. I pull myself from her house and get into my truck.
I don’t even make it halfway down her long drive and I’m throwing my truck into park, turning the ignition off, and letting all the lights die in the cab. I grab my phone from the center console and scroll through my pictures until I find the one I’m looking for.
It’s a picture of Dolly from last week. She’s standing outside of Mick’s diner, laughing, her dimples on full display. Her head is thrown back, that red, curly mane all over the place. She’s got on a soft purple dress that hugs her in all the right places, and her brown cowboy boots that look scuffed and worn. All they tell me is Dolly is willing to get her hands dirty.
I want those hands on me. Fuck, it feels like I’ve wanted those hands on me my whole life, even before she entered it and started consuming my every thought.
Before I know it, I have my dick in my hand, pumping away. Pre-cum is already leaking out of tip as I think about having her pinned under me. God, I should get a medal for pulling back. Letting her go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. It was a sight I’ve been dreaming of for years, and it was like it was finally coming true—her red hair sprawled out all around her and her curvy little body trapped under me. That little catch of her breath had almost sent me over the edge.
I’m about to cum all over myself. I grip my dick harder, the strokes almost painful as a punishment for wanting something I shouldn’t.
Daddy.
The one small word flutters through my mind, and I can’t hold back my cum anymore. White-hot pleasure licks up my spine and out of my cock as cum pours from me. I moan out her name, my head falling back on the headrest as I try to catch my breath. Pleasure pulses through my body like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I can still smell her in my truck. I try to breathe it all in like she’s still here with me.