Page 134 of Return Policy
“Promise?” I rake my eyes over every inch of her body.
“Pinky promise.”
We hook pinkies, then I put her feet between the thong strings and pull it back up her legs. Grabbing the seat belt, I buckle her back in.
“You know I can do that myself?”
“And?” I kiss her smiling lips. “Let me take care of you… ineveryway.” Winking, I hop down and make my way to the driver's side.
“What about you?” Sophia says as I put the truck in drive and pull back on the road.
“What aboutme?”
“I could feel how hard you were…” she says, and I grip the steering wheel tighter.
“And? That was your reward for being a Pulitzer Prize winner in dirty talk.”
“Can my reward be giving you road head?”
A groan escapes my lips as my throbbing cock begs me to say yes.Down, boy.“Only if you want me to crash the damn truck.”
“Fine… I guess I owe you one.” She holds up a single finger on her hand closest to me, and I grab it, bringing it to my mouth and planting a soft kiss on her knuckles.
An hour later, I turn onto a dirt road surrounded by oak trees with the sign Anderson Family Farm.
Although Sophia creates a welcome distraction, I can’t help but wonder how she’s going to feel after finding out what I've been keeping from her. I should’ve brought it up sooner, but I never knew how to approach the subject.
How do you talk about something that burns like a hot iron every time you think about it?
“Your family has their own farm?” Sophia asks, her tone laced in surprise.
“Is that really such a shock?” I glance at her amused expression. “I literally major in agriculture, babe.”
“I mean, yeah. But I can’t see the great Elijah Anderson milking a cow.”
“It’s not that kind of farm.” We get to the property’s metal gate, and I hop out, pushing it open. “Can you drive through?” I shout to Sophia.
She does, and I close the gate, locking it behind us. I get in the passenger seat and direct her to keep driving. My eyes wander to her tiny body maneuvering the vehicle, and damn, does she look sexy driving my big ass truck. We exit the tree line to the acres upon acres of farmland.
“Oh my gosh,” Sophia says, looking around in amazement, her hands remaining on the steering wheel. “It’s beautiful.Thisis where you grew up?”
“Yep.” I take in the familiar scenery. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“I just…” She laughs, shaking her head. “I seriously never would have imaginedyougrew up on a farm.”
I place a hand over my chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, the first time I met you, you just seemed sopreppy city boy.”
“Well, I guess looks can be deceiving now can’t they, Sunflower?”
“Elijah, I packed for Atlanta… You said you lived in Atlanta.”
“I said I lived near Atlanta. Would you have really known where I was from if I said I lived in Elora?”
“I guess not…” she grumbles, parking between the two houses on the property. “Who else lives here?”
“That’s our house,” I say, gesturing to the two-story old Victorian-style house with blue shutters and a wrap-around porch. “And that’s my grandma’s house.” I point at the other house closely resembling ours, but it only has one powder blue painted story with white shutters.
