for his jeans, she knew what he wanted and she impatiently grabbed the packet from his hand. Waving it at him, she smiled. “You did come prepared.”
“I’ve been prepared since the first time we kissed,” he said.
“You knew this would happen?”
“I knew what I wanted. But I didn’t know that you’d want it, too.”
She tore open the condom package and gently sheathed him, smoothing her hands along the length of his shaft. Then, she positioned herself above him and held her breath as she slowly sank down.
The sensation of him inside her, buried deep, was almost more than she could bear. A gasp slipped from her lips and she felt the tension within her heighten at the thought of what they were about to do. She moved above him, and before she knew it, they’d begun a slow, steady rhythm.
Her mind focused on the spot where they were joined, and when he touched her there, Rachel knew how it all would end. Her pulse quickened along with her pace and he continued to tease her, each flick of his finger sending wild sensations coursing through her.
Her hair tumbled around her face and she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. The breeze warmed her skin and the leaves rustled above her head. There was no place on earth she’d rather be.
She looked down at him and smiled, smoothing her hands over his chest. Her lips found his nipple and she sucked gently, teasing at it until it was hard. There was so much to love about his body, so many tempting places to explore.
But he brought her back to her own release when he touched her again. Rachel groaned softly, her eyes going wide as the first shudder consumed her. As if he were waiting for that first sign, Dermot drove deep, and like a wave crashing over her head, her body dissolved into deep and shattering spasms.
For a long moment, every nerve in her body tingled and every synapse in her brain fired. Shudders rocked her, and in the midst of it all, Dermot came, losing himself while buried deep inside her.
Their orgasms melded into one perfect release, and when they were both spent, he pulled her down on top of him and held her close. Rachel rested against his chest, listening to his heart as it slowed to normal again.
Dermot furrowed his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head. “I guess it’s true what they say about farmers’ daughters,” he murmured.
“Oh, it gets much better than this,” Rachel said.
“How is that possible?” he asked, drawing back to look into her eyes.
“The county fair starts next weekend. There are rides and cream puffs and corn dogs.”
“Is there a place for us to do this?”
“No,” she said. “But there are pig races, which for some folks around here is better than sex.”
He pushed up on his elbow. “Pig races? Really. Isn’t it kind of hard to ride a pig?”
Rachel giggled. “No, people don’t ride the pigs. The pigs just run around a track.”
“That would never be better than sex with you,” he said.
“I promise to show you a really good time.” At that moment, she was ready to promise Dermot anything. She was blissfully happy with life on the farm, and the way she looked at it, life would only get better.
4
THE GOATS FROM Clover Meadow Farm were one of the biggest attractions at the county fair. Dermot and Rachel delivered six nannies and three kids safely to a pen designed by the local 4-H group and staffed by friendly high school students.
Dermot leaned up against the fence and watched as Rachel spoke with a young boy, showing him how to feed one of the kids a handful of corn. She smiled and laughed as the goat nudged the little boy’s hip, looking for more treats in his pocket.
They’d been together for just over a week and his desire for her hadn’t cooled. After their first time at the creek, they’d indulged at least once a day, sometimes twice, finding a private hour or two outside of the workday.
Either Uncle Eddie had been too distracted to notice what was going on or he didn’t care. But Dermot was beginning to think that Eddie might be holding out hopes that Dermot would choose to stay at the end of his six-week term. He’d found more time to train Benny the goat to do little tricks.
Rachel glanced up at him and he winked at her. She looked so pretty, dressed in a pale blue sundress and a wide-brimmed straw hat. He’d come into her world here at the fair, a world that he was completely unfamiliar with, and he’d seen the respect the children and teenagers had for her.
Rachel wasn’t the typical farmer. In truth, she was probably a role model for many of the girls, a single woman trying to make it on a farm all by herself. One of the girls walked over to her and Rachel put an arm around her as they spoke. She laughed and Dermot smiled to himself. She was the prettiest woman at the fair, that much was certain.
“So, I’m done here,” she said. “We have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves. What would you like to see first?”
“I’ve kind of liked watching you,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “You’re pretty amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said. “But you see me every day. I think we should start with food. Funnel cakes first, then cream puffs.”
“What is a funnel cake?”
“You’ll see,” she said. She unlatched the gate on the pen and slipped out, one of the goats nipping at her skirt as she left.
They walked hand in hand down a long aisle of food trucks. There was fresh lemonade and deep-fried cheese and corn dogs and cotton candy. Every trailer they passed had something that Dermot wanted to eat. When they reached the stand for the funnel cakes, he looked at the picture and wrinkled his nose.
“What is this?”
“It’s really good,” she said. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
“It looks like a pile of poo. What are you going to make me eat?”
“It’s deep-fried batter. Kind of like a donut only shaped like a little mountain. And they cover it with powdered sugar and you eat it while it’s—”
“I think we need to go back to that place with the deep-fried cheese. I’ve developed a real fondness for cheese.”
Rachel ordered a funnel cake, then held it out to him. Dermot reluctantly took a bite. The dough was hot and crispy and it melted in his mouth. “Oh, God, that’s, like, the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She looked at him and giggled. “You have powdered sugar all over your face.”
“Do I?” Dermot grinned. “Kiss it off.”
Rachel grabbed a napkin and wiped his face. “You behave yourself,” she warned. “Or I’ll have to take you home early and put you to bed.”
They sat down on
