Released to Rapture (Irresistible Inmate) (4 page)

His chest pumped, fighting for oxygen. A
straw dangled from his mouth—his face was buried into a mound of
hay. The orgasm over, his cock continued pumping. It took a moment
for Duncan to realize he lay in a barn, having the best wet dream
of his life. Oh, shit, my jeans! His hands covered his crotch.
Thank goodness, somehow, he had managed to take them off before
shooting off. Damn, how much cum could a man produce. An awful lot,
it seemed. His eyelids drooped as his mind processed remembrances
of how many times he’d ejaculated since arriving at this farm. He
had gone from a disinterested, worn man to a raving teenage sex
machine in one day. A grin spread across his face, and he fell
asleep.

Goldie staggered into the kitchen and fumbled
for the coffee pot. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the wall
clock. Damn. Two hours past time for Bessie’s milking. It had been
a rough night filled with wild sexual dreams. With a mental kick in
the butt, she thought yesterday had provided enough wild and
wonderful sex to last her ten years. A vision of Duncan’s eyes
lighting with the heat of sexual need made the core of her body
burn. She groaned. I’ll never find anyone like him again who’s also
self-supporting and acceptable in the tight social circles within
which I live.

She poured a cup of coffee and glanced out
the window. What! Her horse stood behind the tractor, reins tied to
the equipment, eating from a bucket. Her coat glistened, golden in
the sun, and her mane and tail fell in smooth strands of silver.
Goldie had forgotten how beautiful her mare could be. What nerve.
Someone intended to steal her horse and had the damn audacity to
clean her up first by using the farm’s equipment and water. Jerking
the pantry door open, she grabbed her double-barrel and ran out the
door. Jogging across the yard, awareness of things out of place
pierced her mind.

Stopping dead in her tracks and dropping the
shot-gun to her side, she stared. The mess of fire wood was now a
neat stack. Someone had cut all the weeds and grass around the
fence of Baby’s pasture. Farm debris, scattered around the major
barn, had been removed. Duncan! She tried to be angry, but found it
difficult with a wide smile on her face. Mumbling and cursing came
from inside the barn and she tip-toed inside. He sat on a stool,
his head pushed into Bessie’s side. Very little milk hit the
bucket. “Damn it, this can’t be a difficult thing to do. Cow, you
aren’t cooperating.”

“Oh, I’m surprised. I thought you were an
expert with breasts.”

Duncan leapt up, knocking the pail over. His
eyes wide, he threw up his hands. “Please don’t shoot.”

Goldie dropped the muzzle to her side and
began laughing. After catching her breath, she said, “I’m so happy
you came back.” Her mouth trembled. “I had a miserable night
believing I’d never see you again.”

The milk bucket, caught by his foot, almost
threw him into her arms. He kicked it away, grasped her by the
waist and swung her around. “Thank God and everything holy. I
shouldn’t have let you send me away.” Holding her tight against his
body, he covered her mouth and kissed until he could no longer
breathe and broke away. She placed her hands on either side of his
face and pulled him back to her lips and swirled her tongue over
his lips.

They eventually parted and she asked, “Did
you sleep here?”

His thumb jerked up toward the loft.

“I’ll race you up.”

Once upstairs, Duncan picked her up and
stretched her out on his bed of straw. His eyes burned through her
clothes. “Your folks?”

“Both sleeping.”

He dropped to his knees beside her, his cock
pushing his pants straight out. “I intend to start at your toes and
kiss every inch of you.”

Goldie smiled up at him, licking her lips.
“We don’t have much time, so let me take care of things.”

His brows arched.

“Lie on your back, please, and put your hands
behind your head.”

After some hesitation, he did as she asked.
“Are you going to punish me for coming back?”

She straddled his knees and unzipped his
jeans. His cock leaped forward. As she pulled his pants down, her
tongue traced the underside of his erection, giving special
attention to the tender spot right under its crown. Duncan’s back
arched and he moaned. Down came his hands and slipped through her
hair. “Uh uh,” came from around his cock, and she motioned for him
to put his hands back behind his head. Sucking hard, she slid her
mouth down to the base of his erection. Clutching it, she dropped
her head between his open legs and sucked a testicle into her
mouth, rolling it around with her tongue. Then she graced the other
one with tender affection, while her hand stroked his rod faster
and faster.

His hips moved in time with the movements of
her hand. “Oh, my God. Sweetheart, move. I’m about to lose it.”

With a quick movement, her mouth covered his
cock. One arm reached between his legs, gripped his ass and held
him tight against her face. He lost control and seized her head and
plunged into her mouth. She began sucking and swallowing, pulling
everything he had from his raging body. He pumped his essence deep
into her throat, crying out and moaning.

His arched back collapsed into the straw bed.
Breathing like a freight train, he tried to speak, but
couldn’t.

She straddled his waist and smiled down at
him in female victory. She had ravaged, taken, and overcome. Never
had she felt such power. But then, she’d never serviced a man this
way before.

He pulled her down and gently kissed her
lips. His eyes flared. “First time I’ve ever tasted myself.” His
face blazed.

She chuckled. “Good, hmm?” He seemed stuck
for something to say. “I’m going inside and start breakfast. Give
me about thirty minutes and come in, please.”

“Your parents?”

“Yes, if you intend on hanging around, you
have to pass Dad’s muster.”

“Kinda nervous before—now you’ve scared the
hell out of me.”

“Am I worth it, or not?”

“Hell yes, but it doesn’t do a thing for my
nerves.”

She shimmied down the ladder and headed for
the house, brushing strands of hay from her body.

Biscuits were in the oven, bacon fried, and
Goldie whipped eggs as Susan walked in. “Oh, honey, something
smells so good. Pulled your dad and me right out of bed. What time
is it?”

“Ten thirty.”

Her father strode through the kitchen. “Here
on the old farm, being a sluggard makes me feel right guilty.” He
jerked the back door open. “Pretty day. Let’s leave the door open.
My God, what happened out here?”

Susan joined him, her eyes following his.
“Oh, things look nice. Goldie, did you have a genie visit while we
slept?”

Clinton asked, “Why is Baby tied to the
tractor? And, where’s the stallion?”

Goldie’s throat tightened. “A genie is
shoveling out her stall. I sold Jumper.”

“Why did you do that? Jumper is a fine
horse.”

“Without Leven around to ride him, he became
too wild for me to handle. Besides, I needed the money.”

She glanced in the oven. The biscuits were
browning, so she poured the prepared eggs into oil from the bacon.
Come on, Duncan, get your butt in here. She stirred the scrambled
eggs with one hand and pulled the bread from the oven with the
other. Flipping the pan, the biscuits tumbled onto the counter. Her
mother joined her and put them in a bread basket.

Clinton stepped from the door. “Come take a
look, Susan. I do believe Goldie’s genie is strolling this way. No,
he turned back.”

Goldie raked the eggs into a bowl and joined
her parents.

Duncan turned the spigot on and washed his
face and hands. His stomach tensed after glancing at the man
standing in the kitchen door staring at him. God, he was big.
Filling a water bucket and taking it to Baby to kill some time, he
took a deep shuddering breath. Chill, man, nothing worse can happen
to you than you’ve already experienced. Yeah, but the future I hope
for is probably at the mercy of Goldie’s father. He scratched
between the horse’s ears, spun around, mentally kicked his own
butt, and ambled to the house as if he had not a worry in the
world.

As he fought to keep his chin up, Goldie
pushed past her father onto the porch and stood waiting for him.
“Put a move on it, Duncan, breakfast is getting cold.”

Damn, she sounded like a wife. My woman. His
body relaxed and he smiled.

He took a deep breath and stepped onto the
porch. Goldie waved her hand toward him, saying, “Duncan meet my
parents, Susan and Clinton Stanton. Mom, Dad, Duncan—”

To cover her stumble, he held out his hand to
Mr. Stanton. “Duncan Elvery, sir.” He ducked his head to Susan.
“Ma’am.”

Goldie led them into the kitchen. “Okay,
guys. Take a seat. Mom, I’ll fill the plates and you can serve.”
Once everyone was seated, Goldie joined them, placing the basket of
biscuits in the middle of the table.

Clinton took two biscuits and smeared them
with butter. “Son, have you ever feasted on my girl’s biscuits?”
Duncan shook his head. “Take one. They’ll make your stomach jump up
your throat to get ‘em before you can swallow.”

“Oh, heck. Forgot the coffee.” Goldie jumped
up, placed cream and sugar on the table, and filled everyone’s cup.
Her hands shook.

Susan glanced at her daughter and held up the
creamer. “Take cream and sugar, Duncan?”

“No, thank you, ma’am.” He felt his face
heating. For God’s sake, stop blushing like a kid.

The woman smiled and patted his wrist. Damn,
just like she thinks I am a kid.

It became quiet for a moment while everyone
ate. Duncan buttered the top of a biscuit and looked across at
Goldie. Her eyes were fixed on him. Dropping his eyelids, he looked
through his lashes and slowly licked the butter from the bread. She
grinned and glanced at her mother.

Clinton took a swipe at his mouth with a
napkin. “When did you start working this morning, Duncan? You
managed to do a hell of a lot of work before we managed to get
up.”

“As the sun rose.”

“Good. Like a regular farm boy.” He forked
the last of his eggs in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed, his eyes
still on Duncan’s face. “How’d you end up here?”

“Actually, your brother, down at the store,
pointed me this way.”

“And before that?”

Duncan stilled his heart, took a deep breath,
and said, “Simply enjoying the sights while hitch-hiking. Became
tired. Wanted to stay in one place for a while. A farm in
particular.”

“Why a farm? Doesn’t city life appeal to
you?”

“Farming’s what I know—what I love.”

Clinton’s attention went to his daughter.
“Where’s Jumper?”

“Uncle Carl bought him.”

Susan laughed. “Carl will break his back on
such a wild beast.”

“Speaking of which, wife, let’s go down to
the store and visit with Carl. Duncan, when I get back, we’ll do a
tour of the farm. I worked this place for almost fifty years and
know a few things you might find helpful.”

His wife stood and began gathering the
dishes. “Clint, give me a minute to help Goldie clear the
kitchen.”

“No, Mom. Run along with Dad—it won’t take me
long to clear.”

Duncan stood by the sink and watched Goldie’s
parents leave. He sighed in relief. Goldie laughed and put her arm
around his waist. “It wasn’t really bad, was it? I think Dad likes
you.”

“Yeah, but Mama gave me the hairy
eyeball.”

“My smart mom knows a looker if she sees
one.”

He grunted. “Wasn’t that kind of look. She’s
a sharp one.”

“I’m their only child and they’re very
protective. That often caused a problem with Leven. It’s good they
moved to Arizona even though I miss them like crazy.”

She turned away from the window, and he
enveloped her with his arms. “Now they’re gone, I can feast on your
biscuits.” He grinned while his hands cupped her breasts and gently
squeezed. Pushing his pelvis against her, he thought, well, my man,
it’s good to see you can still raise your head. You’ve lain dormant
for the past hour.

Goldie punched his chest and giggled.
“Thought I’d fall out of the chair when Dad asked you if you’d had
any.”

“Well, I can tell the good man your biscuits
are warm, toasty, and perfect for my mouth.” His thumbs circled the
upright nipples. She knocked against his now upright cock.

She pulled his head down and brushed his
mouth with her lips. “Mr. Eveready, I think you better go out and
see about Baby. She’s still tied to the back end of the
tractor.”

He clamped down on her mouth with a thorough,
deep kiss. Then he stepped back. “Slave driver.” Heading for the
door, he began whistling. His steps bounced as he aimed for
Baby.

After the kitchen had been cleared, Goldie
picked a pan of green beans from the garden and sat on the porch
snapping them. A noise caught her attention and she looked around.
Baby was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes searched the paddock—no Baby.
Hooves pounding down the driveway grabbed her attention. Jesus,
Baby ran away. She jumped up, shaded her eyes with her hand and
gasped. Shirtless, Duncan rode, hell-bent-for-leather, bareback
atop Baby, his black hair ruffling and Baby’s silver tail streaming
behind him. It was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen. Tears
puddled in her eyes. My God, I have lost the last of my heart.

Her father’s Silverado followed the horse,
and another truck came behind. Baby stopped by the barn and Duncan
sailed off, his head thrown back in laughter. Clinton and his
brother, Carl, stood together and watched the man, who remained
unaware of his audience, hugging Baby. Carl said, “Ain’t that a
sight. He’s a man born for riding.”

“Yeah. I wish he’d been on Jumper. He’s the
man for that crazy-ass horse. I don’t know why I bought him for
Leven. He was leery of him and didn’t ride him enough.”