Page 2 of Getting His Fill


Font Size:

The window was cracked to let in the warm, country breeze, but still I felt too hot. It was late, but I could hear Uncle Brooks moving around downstairs, the heavy tread of his feet comforting because I knew he was close.

I squeezed my eyes shut and shifted onto my side, squeezing my thighs together, trying to ignore the ache there. I was wet and had been all night since I’d sat on the porch with Uncle and gotten a little buzz off the beers.

My body felt too hot, too restless. I tried to remind myself whohewas–whoIwas to him.

… How wrong it all was.

But every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was how good Uncle Brooks looked, how much he turned me on, and how much I wanted him.

Out of desperation.

And I wanted to believe that the way his eyes had lingered on me for a heartbeat too long when he thought I wasn’t looking meant more than what it probably did.

Because, dare I say, did Uncle Brooks want me, too?

2

DOLLY

Uncle Brooks said he’d give me a couple days to get used to my surroundings and rest after my trip.

When I wasn’t using my free time to explore the farm, check out all the animals, and even met some of the ranch hands, Uncle Brooks was showing me around.

The farm was exactly as I remembered it from childhood visits—wide open spaces, the scent of animals mingling with the earth, and the distant hum of machinery. But something felt different this time. Maybe it was the way Uncle Brooks brushed his hand against my lower back as he guided me toward the barn or the way his voice dipped when he talked about the “hard work” I’d be doing.

He introduced me to a few hands, but the men seemed eager to get back to work and not linger to talk. They also didn’t look at me, instead keeping their gazes averted as if instructed not to stare at me.

Once we were alone again, we went to another barn, this one for the dairy cows. There were a few heifers in the stalls, and I watched as my uncle spoke softly to them, stroked their faces, and was gentle with his touches. That’s one thing I loved about Brooks. He took care of his animals and treated them with empathy and dignity. He was never cruel. Never.

If I hadn’t known it before, I knew it now. Anyone who was kind to animals was a wonderful human. A good person.

“At first, you’ll be helping with the cows because they are tame, and it’ll get you used to things,” he said after facing me. The smell of hay and manure hit me, warm and pungent.

The dim light cast shadows across the rows of stalls. The cows turned their heads to watch us, their big, dark eyes curious. Uncle Brooks stopped by one stall, leaning on the gate as he gestured inside.

“This here’s Flower,” he said, his voice softening. “She’s the sweetest, although all of them are gentle.”

I stepped closer, peering into the stall. Flower was a beautiful cow, her coat glossy—a sign of being well taken care of. Uncle Brooks rested his hand on the gate, his fingers thick and tanned, slightly scarred and brushing against mine. I could feel the heat radiating off him, and for a moment, I thought he might move closer to me.

But he straightened up and curled his hand around my shoulder. “Don’t stress. You’ll get the hang of it. Milking’s not so hard once you get the hang of it.”

I nodded, swallowing hard, my thoughts on anything but taking care of the animals.

His hand lingered on my shoulder, squeezing gently before he let go and led me out of the barn to show me the rest of the land. But the entire time, all I could think about was how it would feel if Uncle Brooks pushed me against that barn wall and fucked me raw.

3

DOLLY

The mornings started early on the farm.

The sun was barely cresting over the hills when I padded downstairs, the old wood floors creaking under my sock-covered feet. I found my uncle in the kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hand as he leaned against the counter.

I could tell he’d just showered. His hair was damp, and he had this clean, soapy scent surrounding him. He wore a faded T-shirt that clung to the hard lines of his chest and arms showcasing how muscular he was.

“Thought you’d sleep in, Dolly girl,” he said, his eyes raking over me in a way that caused wet heat to instantly pool between my thighs. I picked at the oversized T-shirt I wore and scolded myself that I hadn’t dressed more modestly.

Hell, the shirt barely covered my ass, and to top it off, I was braless.