Drenching time on the Triple H meant a week of being on horseback from sun up to sundown. It was hot and sweaty work and there was nothing pretty or feminine about it. Usually, drenching didn’t bother me, smelling like cattle was a part of living on a working cattle farm, and I was used to it. This time, however, was different, now Hendrixx and I were officially together, I kind of wanted him to see me in a different light, or at least without cow shit on my boots and dust all over my jeans.
To be honest, he hadn’t seen much of me for the week, with both of us working on separate areas on the property, neither of us getting over to see the other for more than a quick lunch break and a covert make-out session in his ute that didn’t last long enough for my liking.
Oh, he gave me pleasure, made me come with his hands on my breasts while he rocked his denim-covered bulge into me, but we were yet to get to the clothes off stage, and Hendrixx had yet to let me return the orgasms he’d bestowed on me.
He said we had to take it slow, and I called bullshit. And yet here I was two hours later after my umpteenth orgasm, and Hendrixx still walked back to his horse bowlegged.
What did a girl have to do to get her man to let her touch his dick?
My frustration was building with the whole go slow rule, not that I wasn’t enjoying Hendrixx coming up with new and exciting ways to bring me to climax, but it was far too one-sided. All I got to do was kiss him, rub myself all over his hard crotch and just lately I had taken to unbuttoning his shirt as well as mine and experiencing some skin to skin contact.
Of course, Hendrixx wouldn’t let me take off my shirt completely or take off my bra, his mouth always took my nipples through the lace of my undergarment, not that it wasn’t hot, I wanted more yet again.
I was ready to do more with Hottie 2.
For someone who got to orgasm at least twice a day for the past seven days, I resembled a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
Moving Princess in between the Hereford, I pushed the calf on the other side of the horse with practised skill, not needing to use anything other than my mount and my wits. Keeping my knees pressed tight on either side of Princess, giving her silent commands just with pressure from my knees. I broke and trained Princess myself, her stockbreeding the best of the best. She was the first horse I broke, using a gentler technique I had come up with myself when I was just thirteen, with some help from my dad and Fenixx.
I didn’t believe in spurs, whips or any kind of physical hitting of a horse to get them to follow commands. Instead, I used my legs and hands and verbal commands. Thankfully, the Hott brothers all agreed with me, and all the stock horses on the Triple H were broken that way.
Signalling to Joe to close the gate to the pen, I cantered off to get my next calf. And so it went for the next two hours until three hundred calves were bawling in the nursery pen, while their mothers pranced nervously on the other side of the fence.
“Blake Isobel, where is your hat?” The beloved and annoying bellow of my hot boyfriend echoed over the noise of the full pen of cattle.
“How about up your arse?” I mumbled but still reached down and pulled out the baseball cap from under the side flap of the stock saddle where I tucked it after I’d lost it off my head for the fifth time earlier.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Hendrixx asked me, his voice closer, “did you say something about my arse Blake?” Hendrixx sidled up to me, Stash so much bigger than Princess, he practically dwarfed us.
Rolling my eyes, I slapped the cap back on my head. I preferred to wear it rather than my usual Akubra due to constantly having it come off when chasing cows. Stopping and starting on the horse, it was just easier to wear a HHH cap, and save my beloved hat from cow shit and being trampled on.
“Happy?” I hissed, rolling my eyes when the handsome bastard smirked at me.
“Yep.”
“Wonderful, now move out of my way.” Reigning Princess to the right, I tried to get around Stash, but Hendrixx countered my move and blocked me.
“It’s lunchtime, the ute is parked over by the trees,” Hendrixx informed me, his eyebrows wriggly up and down.
“Not hungry, got too much to do before knock-off time,” I replied, jutting my chin at him. Hendrixx leaned down in his saddle and grabbed hold of my bridle, pulling Princess gently closer to him and Stash.
“Blake, what the hell is wrong with you? What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m not hungry Hendrixx, that’s all,” I lied, suddenly feeling foolish.
“Frog shit. What is wrong?” he growled, glaring at me with his blue eyes blazing, “and don’t give me lies, Blake.” My god, he was hot, even pissed off there wasn’t a man alive that could hold a candle to Hendrixx Hott. And yeah, he was one of three identical triplets, but it always confounded me why Noxx or Fenixx didn’t do it for me, ever. They always felt like brothers to me, only Drixx stirred my blood and made my girlie parts tingle with excitement with just a look from those blues.
He had to want more than just heavy petting and M rated foreplay. Why was he holding back for cripes’ sake!
“Fine! You want to know what is wrong with me, Hottie? I am sick of getting orgasms and not being allowed to give you any. Why
