A taste will have to be all I ever get.
Chapter Eight
MAGGIE
Bennett walksout of the barn while my heart chokes my throat.
The wood against my back is cold and scratchy, but I can’t find the strength to stand on my own yet. I’m weak, my mind whirling in time with the frantic beat of my heart as I try to calm my breathing.
Not that I’ve been kissed as many times as most people assume, but no one haseverkissed me like that.
Like I was air, and Bennett was suffocating.
The cinnamon gum he was chewing and the smell of his woodsy cologne lingers in my senses. I can still feel the heat of his body and the hard length of his cock in his jeans.
He walked away like nothing happened. Turned me down and left like this doesn’t matter.
Like I don’t matter.
I can’t remember the last time someone turned me down. If I knew it would feel like this, maybe I’d have listened to Dad when he threatened to ground me to hell and back if I messed withanyone on the ranch. It hasn’t been a problem before because everyone he hires is old and gross, but Bennett is different.
He’s magnetic enough that I’m willing to cross the only firm line in the sand Dad has ever drawn about my behavior. And he walked away from me.
What the fuck?
Usually, I can get away with subtle innuendos and veiled flirting, and men fall all over themselves for me. They don’t even get to touch me, but they salivate at the chance to justlookat me. I stopped letting anyone actually get their hands on me before I even graduated high school, and I sure as hell don’t ever let feelings get in the mix. No one’sthatinteresting. Dad once said I used men like chew toys—and maybe that’s true emotionally. I like the attention, the tension, the taboo of knowing Dad and Bo would kill anyone who dared to try.
But this time, I’m not in charge. If anyone’s a chew toy here, it’s me.
I don’t know how to feel about the fact that Ilikeit.
The only thing I know is that I’m not going to let Bennett just walk away. This is about my ego now. I’m not going to let anyone dictate how my life goes, not Dad, not Bo, and certainly not Bennett. I felt the desperation in the way he kissed me, saw every dark desire in his eyes when he fitted his hand around my throat.
I’m tired of telling myself no, of not getting what I fuckingwant. And I’m done letting anyone else tell me no. Especially my father.
Dad has pushed too far this time. If he’s going to treat me like I can’t make my own choices, I’m going to show him just how many choices I can make, and how much he’s going to hate each and every fucking one of them. I don’t give a fuck about the consequences anymore. I’m going to show him that forcing me into a job isn’t going to change a damn thing. I’m going tofind a way out to California and live my life however I damn well please.
And, no matter what it takes, I’m going to get Bennett toruinme.
I won’t stop until he covers me in marks that I can flaunt in Dad’s face. I’m not going to back down from waving a red flag right in his face.
If he wants to ignore my wishes, well, turnabout’s fair play.
Anger burns through my veins, quieting the rattle of insecurity in my brain. I shove off the barn wall, grimacing at the feeling of the scratchy wood against my palms. My hair is a tangled mess from being pressed against the wall, so I shove it up into a lazy ponytail before straightening out my shirt.
The pressure of Bennett’s fingers lingers on my hips, and I’m uncomfortably wet between my thighs, but I resolutely ignore both sensations as I march my way back to the house.
Everyone should be in bed already—except maybe Mom, but she’s always in her office around now—so I don’t bother with stealth as I slip back into the house.
I regret letting my footsteps fall so heavily as soon as the door closes behind me.
The light in the kitchen is on, spilling out into the hallway, and I don’t have a chance to dash up the stairs before Mom peeks her head out. Her face lights up in surprise when she sees me, brows rising when she catches sight of what I’m wearing.
“Maggie?” she asks incredulously. “Where were you?”
I bite back a curse and fix a careless expression on my face. “On a walk? What, am I not allowed to walk around the house I live in? Why areyouup right now?”
The conversation is a little too close to how my little talk with Bennett went, and I stomp my way into the kitchen to rifle through the fridge. I’m full of restless energy, with nowhere toexpel it. Mom’s gaze burns into my back as I look through the contents of the fridge, but I ignore it.
