She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy

Chance let the words rip through her like a knife, slicing her heart apart. Then his lips smashed hers with bruising force. She didn’t want to do this; she needed to do it. She hadn’t been with a man since their wedding night. She made a huge mistake. She got scared, and she ran. He would not understand. He would not know how scary it was to love someone as she loved him and then find out he didn’t trust her.
I must be crazy. The man just said he hated her, but his kiss was telling her something else entirely. Heath was always one for restraint, but he was like a wild beast now. She knew he was always gentle with her. She did not know he could be so rough.
Her arms left his big wrists and wrapped around his neck. She tried not to enjoy it, knowing it wasn’t a lasting moment. Every stroke of his tongue against hers filled her with fire.
When he pulled back, he bit her lip so hard she was amazed he did not draw blood. His brown eyes looked so dark they were almost black with anger. Why she felt the surge of moisture on her panties was a mystery. You can’t possibly be turned on by this! It was like something or someone else was taking her over entirely.
“Dammit!” he shouted.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” she asked before she thought about the words. Watching his inner turmoil turn outward was both a rush and a shock. Could she possibly still have some affect on him? The stupid notion was enough reason to entice him on. She was always good at goading him, and anyone else for that matter, but this was different. She never talked during sex. “But you’re mad.”
“I’m pissed!” he shouted, and she could feel her toes leave the ground as he pulled her up closer to him by the jacket. If he lifted any higher, she was likely to fall out of the damn thing!
“So! So am I Heath. But you feel it. You feel it like I do, so let’s just do it and get it over with. Let’s just fuck!” Her skin prickled with gooseflesh as a nervous surge skittered throughout her body. She watched him frown, and his eyebrows drew down into a fierce scowl. Men would cower under that glare, but she knew no matter what she had done, he would never hurt her, not physically anyways. He could probably spit nails right now, but he wouldn’t raise a hand to her.
Knowing a man would not hit her allowed her more freedom to torture him in the past. She didn’t believe it back then. She thought if she pushed him harder, he would eventually snap. She realized after she left, it just wasn’t in him. God, what have I done to you?
“You say that to all the boys?” He barely moved his lips when he spoke now.
“There’s only been you, Heath. Believe it or not. It’s the God’s honest truth.”
His stream of curses in response to her statement left her a little unsure as to what he was going to do next. Then their eyes locked. Like illegal fireworks on the Fourth of July they exploded into a clash of heat.
He pulled the zipper down and pushed the coat off her shoulders. He laid it on the counter beside him with more care than he handled her at the moment. Chance tried in vain to pull his t-shirt up. He was bigger and faster than she was.
Heath simply grabbed the vee in her tank top and ripped it like a piece of paper. Please don’t rip my bra. Her eyes closed as his fingers diligently unsnapped the bra and let it hang open. She had no idea if her clothes were still here or not. He could have thrown her stuff away or just as likely burned it, from the tales she had heard.
“Ah shit!” he said and roughly nuzzled her neck with the side of his face as his fingers probed between her legs. His beard stubble scratched and raked against her neck. It seemed as though he was torn between wanting to be nice to her and wanting to make her pay by not being nice at all. She was used to the latter, but not used to it from Heath. He stripped her jeans down her hips.