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by Melissa Harlow
Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Breeding Stock is Melissa Harlow's most controversial novel so far. It tells the story of a colony of survivors after a virus wipes out most of the population, and 'Drea Zelleck wants to make it back home to find the first and only man she ever loved, Jackson Burgess. Jackson is alive, but his life has changed since 'Drea left. Once a farmer, he now runs a colony of survivors where the women are kept in cells as breeding stock, in the hopes of repopulating. Kidnapped from a bus by Jackson's second in command, 'Drea finds herself unexpectedly attracted to the sexually controlling and demanding Bennett. Taken at gunpoint to the colony, she learns that she is expected to be 'bred" to each of the men there. Jackson is still in love with the girl who grew up next door, but the willful, defiant woman she's become responds with such submission to Bennett's commanding ways that Jackson finds he doesn't mind sharing her with him. Now the question is, can he and Bennett keep her from the rest of the colony, or is 'Drea destined to be colony breeding stock? The author says Breeding Stock "is a little different than most of my stories thus far. I'd say maybe a little more extreme than what I usually write."
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: September 2010
21 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [213 KB]
Reading time: 144-201 min.
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
Chapter 1 Innocence Lost
Jackson Burgess had been a part of her life for as long as 'Drea could remember. There was a picture on the living room mantle of him holding up the head of the first buck he'd ever shot. It was taken on opening day of deer season and he was probably about fourteen years old then, the son 'Drea's father never had, but always wanted.
'Drea was in the picture too. Years later, when she stared at the photo she tried to remember that exact moment in time and she found that she was glad that she couldn't. That was her though, in the corner of the frame, the little girl wearing a frilly pink dress and white shoes with bows. It seemed like a nice picture, until you looked closer. The little girl was crying and there was blood splattered on her shoes. It was hard to imagine Jackson killing something, especially something as beautiful as that deer, but he had, and the look on his face was unmistakable. He was proud.
Sometime, not long after that, he brought her five baby bunnies. They were tiny and wiggly, with barely any fur. She fed them with an eyedropper and talked to them like they could really understand her. Their nest was a green plastic strawberry basket lined with paper towels. When they outgrew that, they graduated to a shoebox. All of them lived but one, and it was given a grand funeral in the garden. Even Jackson attended, wearing a clean white shirt and carrying daisies.
'Drea let the bunnies go out in the back pasture when they were big enough to be on their own. She cried when they disappeared from sight, but she felt a sense of accomplishment that she had never known before. Jackson sat on the top rail of the gate silently watching her. She vaguely recalled him putting his hand on her shoulder after they had gone and he told her what a good thing she had done.
Every spring that followed, he brought her more bunnies. When it was time to plow the fields for corn on his father's farm, that big John Deere tractor would always unearth wild rabbit nests. Sometimes they were too small to survive without their mother, but other times she managed to successfully raise them. No matter what their size, or how many there were, Jackson would bring them to her, carefully tucked inside an old Mail Pouch Chewing tobacco hat. They always looked incredibly tiny in his big hands, but he handled them with the most extraordinary gentleness.
So many times she remembered running out of the house to meet his old red pick-up truck in the dusty lane, her legs trembling with excitement. Age and time altered that excitement until she was old enough to understand that as much as she loved those sweet bunnies, she loved the man who brought them more.
He was her first crush, and at almost ten years older than she was, he couldn't really have been anything more than that. The Jackson she loved was a dream, like the posters that little girls put up on their walls. 'Drea didn't fantasize about actors or rock stars; she dreamed of a farmer with dirty fingernails, who held bunnies.
She could imagine him any way that she wanted him to be, and in her mind Jackson Burgess was the most wonderful man in the world. 'Drea was still a little girl when Jackson was a grown man. He'd already had a long line of girlfriends while she still played with her Barbie dolls and stuffed animals. He was drinking beer and stealing his dad's Pall Mall's while she watched cartoons and ate Pop-Tarts for breakfast.
When she was twelve and her mother died of sclerosis, he hugged her in the parking lot of Emmen's Funeral Home. Even then she remembered wanting to just hold onto him and never let him go. He kissed her on the forehead and made her feel like everything in the world would be right as long as he was part of her life. The years went on, like they have a way of doing, until it was hard for her to remember a time when she hadn't been in love with him.
In high school she found that she didn't have one ounce of attraction to any of the boys. Was it better to have a make believe boyfriend than a real one? 'Drea wasn't sure about that, all she knew was that none of those boys could ever compare to Jackson.
Jackson Burgess was the only son of a third generation farmer, and maybe if she could have seen him the way he really was she wouldn't have found anything terribly remarkable about him.
He was huge and gruff, a no-nonsense, down to earth man, who was undoubtedly destined to follow in his father's footsteps. The Burgess men had a long-standing reputation of being a bit callous as far as their women and families were concerned. Jackson's father seemed to value his livestock more than his own wife. Drea had never seen any evidence, however, that Jackson was anything less than all of the good things that 'Drea had built him up to be. After all, someone who would go out of his way to try and rescue baby bunnies had to be a good man.
It was in late August, on a hot Friday evening, when she realized those dreams she had of Jackson Burgess weren't going to come true. They were replaced with reality, the reality of what kind of man Jackson Burgess really was, and 'Drea hadn't been prepared for that reality. When you're young and you still have big dreams reality can be a crushing thing.
It was, of all days, her nineteenth birthday, a day she had looked forward to for so long; a day that should have been perfect, but from the beginning it was full of disappointments.
'Drea quarreled with her father early that morning over a case of beer that she'd had stashed out in the old refrigerator in the garage. He found it, and any hopes she had for drinking something besides Pepsi with her friends went down the drain right along with that beer.
In the kitchen, her father opened each can, one by one, and patiently poured it into the sink while she watched in horror. She had paid Maddie Gilchrist twenty-five dollars of her hard-earned allowance to get that beer. Seeing it all being thrown away just didn't seem right. Things soon escalated into a shouting match and 'Drea said a lot of things to her Dad that later on she wished she hadn't.
Just because her mother had been an alcoholic didn't mean she'd ever be one. What would have been the harm of a few drinks on her birthday? She couldn't wait to move away; as long as she lived under her father's roof she was going to be treated like a child. Her long anticipated Birthday party had been canceled, and it wasn't fair. She hadn't been permitted to have a graduation party, but her father had promised she could have a Birthday party. He was angry enough about the beer that he changed his mind.
There were chores to do, and 'Drea opened a lid on one of the large wooden feed bins in the barn. It hadn't been used for a few days and wasps had moved in under the hinges. They flew out at her, angry that she'd disturbed their new nest. Several painful stings, and a few choice words later, she managed to evict them and scraped the nest down with a piece of wood. Fucking wasps, every summer at least one of them got her.
Late that afternoon she walked through the pasture, alone and miserable, sweltering in the humidity and swatting at black flies as her eyes scanned the fence-line for any trace of her calf, Honey. Honey's mother had come back to the barn over two hours ago, and still there was no sign of the tiny calf with the deformed front leg. Honey had been born that way, with a useless, dangling stump where there should have been a strong, healthy, front leg.
'Drea had seen hundreds of calves born, but there was something different about Honey right from the beginning; something special. Her father wanted to put the calf down. He told 'Drea again and again that they needed to cull that calf, but 'Drea pleaded until he finally relented and promised that they would keep her. She had a bad feeling today when that calf didn't come back. It was going to break her heart to find Honey dead, but she had to look for her; she had to find her.
It had crossed her mind that maybe she should call Jackson. If anyone could help her, it was him. In 'Drea's mind there wasn't much of anything that Jackson wasn't capable of. She'd gone as far as to dial the Burgess' number and let the telephone ring twice before she hung up, grateful that no one had answered. The older she got the harder it was to pretend that she didn't feel the things she did for him.
There was no sign of Honey anywhere in the field but 'Drea continued searching, following the shiny new barbed-wire fence through the woods and down to what was left of the creek. It had been a dry summer, and the water was low. She waded out until it reached over her knees, grateful for its cooling effect.
It hadn't been a good day and it kept getting worse. Her father had made her call her friends to tell them that they couldn't come over, and it was beginning to look like Honey was gone for good. 'Drea thought of how angry her father had been. He had over-reacted. When was he going to understand that she wasn't a child anymore?
He'd see, when she was gone; he'd see how wrong he'd been. She'd already made arrangements to move away in the fall. She was registered for beauty school up in Muskapeak. She'd signed a one year lease on an apartment and had a job all lined up at the Silver Creek Inn waiting tables at night. What more did she have to do to prove that she was a goddamn grown-up? She had carefully planned out the entire next year of her life and she wasn't even allowed to drink a few beers with her friends?
No, she wasn't a son. He hardly noticed she was alive after her mother died, and on more than one occasion she heard him say that he wished that he would have had a son like Jackson. Her entire life she had felt her Dad's disappointment that he had only had a daughter. She wasn't going to take over the family farm, not now, not ever. She had no desire to raise cattle for beef, and "cull" weak stock. She belonged to PETA, she was a vegetarian, and this fucking farm was the last place on earth she wanted to be.
Maybe next year, after she finished beauty school, things would be different. She could come back here and get a job at the hair place up in the strip mall in town. Maybe her father and Jackson would both finally understand she wasn't a little girl anymore.
A large horsefly buzzed against her head and Drea swatted it away. At the same time she raised her arm she took a step forward and her foot caught on a rock buried in the mud on the creek bed. When she fell she wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or curse.
The water was muddy and stagnant, but at the same time it felt refreshing on her sticky skin. Her new white tank-top was probably ruined, like everything else on this shitty day but for the moment she didn't care. The water made her feel happy, and it soothed the wasp stings on her arm. She floated on her back staring up at the clouds.
Finally, she stood up and peeled her muddy top off. The water was a bit clearer further upstream, and 'Drea waded to a spot where the creek still sluggishly flowed and rinsed the mud from her shirt as best as she could.
"Best put that shirt back on, 'Drea Zelleck."
She froze at the sound of the masculine voice behind her, and instinctively covered her bare breasts with the dripping shirt, holding it tightly to her chest. She turned slowly, and was greeted by the sight of Jackson Burgess standing up on the creek bank.
If there was ever a sight that would make a woman want to drop her shirt it was Jackson Burgess. He got better looking each time she saw him. Clad in a pair of faded jeans, he was shirtless, a dirty gray t-shirt slung carelessly over his shoulder. His long hair fell past his shoulders in a wild tangle. A fine sheen of perspiration covered his thick upper body, and here and there were pieces of hay stuck to his damp tanned skin, evidence that he had spent a hard afternoon throwing bales in the August sun.
She could feel a warm flush on her cheeks as he stared at her chest because judging from his expression Jackson was suddenly interested in her in a way that she had only previously dreamed of.
"You didn't hear me?" he asked, smiling. He didn't even pretend to look her in the face, instead his eyes remained boldly fixed to her chest. It was all her shaking hands could do to hold that shirt in place, a part of her wanted to let it fall and show Jackson that she was not a kid anymore.
'Drea finally turned away from him and struggled to pull the wet shirt back on. It was cold, and it smelled bad.
"I heard you," she said. "What are you doing sneaking up on me?"
Jackson laughed. "I wasn't sneaking up on you. Of course, if I'd of known this is the kind of shit you do when you think you're all by yourself maybe I'd of snuck up on you a long time ago."
'Drea turned back and faced him. Despite being a little self-conscious she was secretly pleased. She didn't think that Jackson Burgess would ever notice she had breasts, let alone want to see them.
Jackson hadn't ever looked at her like this before, or at least if he had he hadn't been so obvious about it. She could feel how hard her nipples were beneath the wet fabric, and she knew damn well that the shirt was sticking to her obscenely, leaving nothing to his imagination. Fully aware of all that, instead of crossing her arms in front of her chest and hiding her breasts, she intentionally sucked her breath in and stuck her chest out, wishing she had bigger boobs. She'd seen some of the women in town that Jackson had dated, and they were all far more gloriously endowed than she could ever hope to be. His eyes eventually made a long, unhurried sweep up her torso until they locked with hers. A slow, lazy smile spread over his face.
"Whatcha doing out here?" he asked.
"Looking for my calf. She didn't come back with her ma."
"Your calf, huh?"
"Yeah, Daddy said she's mine, said I could keep her."
He smiled and his dark eyes flashed mischievously. "You're not gonna find her walking around half naked in the stream."
"I fell, I was rinsing my shirt out ..."
"Lord, you look grown, you're a grown damn woman now, that's for sure," he interrupted. She noticed how his words were slightly slurred and his eyes were a little glassy. He pulled a small silver flask from his back pocket and took a long swallow from it. Screwing the top back on, he wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow and ran a hand through his thick, black hair freeing a few wisps of hay that clung there. They fluttered slowly down into the grass at his feet.
"How old are you now, 'Drea?"
"Today's my birthday. I'm nineteen," she said proudly.
He ran his tongue slowly over his lips and despite the heat 'Drea nearly shivered at the sight.
"Well, happy birthday, 'Drea. Did you get anything good?"
"I got in trouble, that's what I got! My dad found the beer I had hid out in the garage," she said bitterly.
"Beer? What's a sweet little thing like you want with beer?"
She shrugged. Truthfully she had only tasted beer a few times and she never had liked it. She wasn't sure why she wanted that beer, she just wanted it.
"I just wanted to drink a couple for my birthday."
He held his hand out to her and hauled her up onto the bank of the creek. "Was drinking beer going to make you feel all grown up, 'Drea?" he teased.
"I am grown up," she sighed, pulling her stinky, ruined shirt away from her skin. "I'm old enough to be moving to Muskapeak next month! I should be old enough to drink a fucking beer if I want to." God, she should have known Jackson would take her father's side.
He stunned her by putting his arms around her, and Drea could smell something a whole lot stronger on his breath than beer.
"What else are you old enough to do?" he asked with a grin.
"Whatever you want me to, Jackson." Her voice had suddenly gone all weird. Strange, even to her. Throaty, breathless...slutty. That was a hell of a thing for a girl who'd never even been properly kissed to just throw out there! It was almost like somebody else had answered him. Not in a million years would she have ever imagined herself talking to Jackson Burgess that way, but she had, and he was smiling.
"I got something better than beer, 'Drea." He handed her the flask. "Have a sip. For your birthday."
She unscrewed the cap and sniffed it. It was some kind of whiskey, the same thing she could smell on his breath.
He smiled and nodded. "Take a drink."
She did, and it burned from her throat all the way down to her stomach. Her eyes watered. She gasped for air and he chuckled.
"Good, huh? Have another ..." His hand closed over hers as he guided the flask towards her lips. He could have held her hand like that all day and she wouldn't have tired of it.
'Drea tilted the flask and took another sip. She instantly felt twenty degrees hotter and a little light headed.
"Want me to help you find that calf?" he asked as he shoved the bottle back into his pocket.
She stared up at the lines of his unshaven face, daydreaming about how perfect he looked standing there. She could smell him, the pungent musk of hay and horses, leather, whiskey, and sweat all swirled around her, making her dizzier than the heat or the alcohol ever could.
"That would be real nice of you, Jackson," was all she could manage to say. The only sound then was her own heart pounding and a mosquito buzzing near her ear. A long silence stretched between them in the stifling afternoon air. Somewhere in the weeds nearby a cicada began buzzing. 'Drea couldn't take her eyes off him. Jackson Burgess, so close she could smell him. Lord, what she wouldn't do if he'd only kiss her the way he did in her dreams.
"We should get looking for that calf. Why you keep staring at me like that?" Jackson asked with a frown, as he pulled out the flask again and tipped it back. She watched the muscles in his throat work as he took a long, slow swallow.
"I just like looking at you," she admitted.
He smiled. "I like looking at you too." He brushed away a strand of her hair that had fallen in her eyes, and she felt goosebumps rise on the back of her neck.
"You sure grew up pretty, 'Drea Zelleck. I'll bet you had all the boys chasing you in high school."
She giggled nervously. "I did okay I guess."
"Ever let any of them catch you?" He said it like he knew for a fact that she hadn't ever had a boyfriend.
"Oh, only a few," she said, pretending to be nonchalant, surprised at how easy it was to lie to him. "They were all...you know? Just boys." She was positive by the way he was looking at her that he understood what she meant. They weren't him, and no one could ever be him. She loved him more than anything in the world, he had to know that by now, there was no way he could look at her and not see it.
The smile disappeared from his face. If she didn't know better she'd think he was mad. "Not interested in boys anymore, huh?" He sounded mad too.
She flipped her hair back and tried her best to look sexy. "What I'm interested in is a man, not boys."
She was speechless when his hand slid up under her shirt and he boldly squeezed her breast. He plucked at her nipple and it grew so hard that it ached beneath the calloused pads of his fingers.
"You think I'm man enough for you, 'Drea?"
Oh, shit. With his crotch pressed hard against hers she could feel exactly how much of a man he was. The seam of her shorts was pushing her panties up between her swelling pussy lips and it felt unbearable. Fortunately, she didn't have to tolerate it for long, because with only one hand Jackson easily unbuttoned them and they were soon tossed aside in a heap on the ground, followed quickly by her top and her panties. It seemed like Jackson Burgess must have had as much practice undressing women as driving that old tractor.
When she finally could make sense of anything the only thought in her mind was that it was finally going to happen. Jackson Burgess was going to make love to her. 'Drea's eyes went half closed as she waited for the kiss of a lifetime...a kiss that never came.
He pushed her down roughly in the dirt and she felt his fingers in a place where nobody but her had ever touched before. His touch was too rough, and it hurt at first, but her body seemed to know what she wanted better than her mind did. She could feel how wet she was making his hand as he began to jam his fingers into her faster and harder. 'Drea whimpered his name out loud as she experienced the first orgasm of her life that came from something other than her own hand.
He laughed against her neck, a deep and low rumbling sound. A stick on the ground underneath her jabbed into the small of her back, and something was crawling on her ankle. 'Drea struggled to sit up.
"Look at you squirming around in the fucking dirt. You're a hot little slut aren't you? I bet you gave all those boys in school a good time. Now that you're too grown up for boys, you need Jackson's big cock in that greedy pussy, don't you?"
'Drea hadn't expected him to talk to her like that. It wasn't very romantic, but maybe it was sexy. She wasn't quite sure she understood what sexy was. She hadn't really liked how he'd just touched her, but then it had made her feel really good. She still wondered when he was going to kiss her.
"What's the matter honey? Didn't any of your boys talk dirty to you?"
'Drea shook her head. Something about this didn't seem right. This wasn't the way she had imagined any of this happening.
"No, Jackson, I just ..."
Jackson smiled and gave her nipple a sharp pinch, stopping her words. She'd wanted to tell him the truth, tell him she'd never done anything with anyone before but she decided it was probably a good thing she couldn't. Jackson was used to women. Experienced women, not ones that were only nineteen, and had never had a boyfriend before, and especially not ones who were so in love with him that they could hardly breathe when he was around. If he knew all that he'd probably turn around and go home. Maybe this wasn't the right way to start things between them, but there had never been a "between them" and she really hadn't believed there ever really could be. 'Drea knew this was her only chance, the only opportunity she would ever have to show him just how much she really loved him. Things would be different, once he knew that.
"Men like some dirty talk, 'Drea, so you better learn how to do it. Come on, practice a little for me, sweetheart? Tell me that you're a dirty slut and you want fucked."
'Drea wasn't sure that she could do that, just the thought of it made her stomach feel a little sick, but Jackson started rubbing her in a spot that felt so good that she would have done just about anything if he would only continue.
"Come on 'Drea," he groaned. "Tell me you're a slut. Beg me to fuck you." His fingers closed around her clit and he squeezed until something between paradise and torture erupted between her thighs.
"Jackson," 'Drea panted. "Fuck me. I'm a slut." He pinched her clit even harder until she whimpered out a long breathy whimper. "Please Jackson?" She looked up at him, knowing that the love she felt for him was shining in her eyes. Jackson, her only love; he was going to be her first, and the only one who would ever be with her this way.
He was on her then, his full weight pushing her backside down into the damp soil of the creek bank. His hands were on her hips, his half-lidded eyes looking between her legs, watching as his cock spread her wide. She could see him getting more and more excited just by watching what he was doing to her.
'Drea felt when it met that place up in her where nothing had ever been, and then in one sharp stab Jackson Burgess was buried to the hilt inside of her. She held onto him tight, hoping he would stay still for a second so she could get over the sharp pain that was making her eyes water. He didn't. He began working in and out of her, fast and hard. It was big, too big, and she swore it felt like he'd rip her right in half.
She moved a little underneath him and his grip on her hips tightened until his strong fingers were digging deep into her skin. He held her down with ease, and she tried to let her body relax. This was Jackson after all, he knew what he was doing, and he wasn't going to hurt her.
But it did hurt. After a couple of minutes, it still hurt but it started to hurt in a good way. The harder he did it the harder she wanted it. She liked that it hurt, and she liked that he was so heavy that she couldn't move and she couldn't back away. It hurt in a way that made her feel weak, powerless, and totally owned by Jackson Burgess. She was his, just like she'd always dreamed. And something built up inside her that was like a big bonfire getting started by one little match and before she knew what was happening she was making strange noises as muscles she never even knew she had hugged and squeezed, pulling at his cock.
"Oh yeah, that's a good girl," he crooned softly in her ear. "You come so sweet for me baby."
His voice, those words, her pussy tightened around him. A good girl. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tight around his waist, reveling in the feeling of his big hard body bearing down on her again and again. This was what it was going to be like. Forever. She wasn't going to leave for Muskapeak, she was going to stay here with Jackson. Mrs. Jackson Burgess...
'Drea had written that name over and over on her notebook in school one year. She could live on a farm for him, hell, she would live anywhere to be with him. He'd never kill deer or cull stock, he wouldn't do any of those horrible things ever again. Fuck the apartment, beauty school, and the job at Silver Creek, she had waited her whole life to be Jackson's and it was finally happening. He panted and groaned over her and she knew, she just knew. He loved her, he loved her every bit as much as she loved him, and any minute he was going to tell her.
He slowed his pace, until she was arching up against him, her body desperately seeking one more release. He was motionless, making her do all the work, making her bounce her body beneath him, making her push up against his cock. When it finally happened it was more intense than the others. It was blinding, it was amazing. She clung to him, unable to do anything but quiver beneath him.
He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, and sweat dripped from his forehead. She could taste his sweat, the tang of salt on her lips. This wasn't a dream, he was real, this was real, and it was really happening!
"Oh god, 'Drea," he breathed.
Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes and she waited for him to speak. Her heart felt like it would explode it was so full. She kissed his thumb, and he pushed it into her mouth.
"I want you to do something for me," Jackson whispered.
She waited, thinking how anything Jackson could ever ask of her would be impossible to deny him.
"The next time you're with one of them boys, I want you to pretend it's me fucking you."
'Drea's eyes flew open wide, and she stared up at him, unable to quite believe what she had just heard. How could he possibly think that she could ever be with anyone else? Especially after this?
Jackson smiled down at her and pushed deeper up inside of her until she gasped. "I want you to come all over his cock and tell him you're his little fucking whore." Jackson bit his lower lip and he moaned. "Fuck, I would love to see that. Love to see your slutty little cunt getting pounded. I'd like to watch you begging for more and know you're pretending it's me fucking you."
He moved faster. "Say it, Drea. Tell me what a fucking slut you are."
And just like that it was true. She was a slut. Jackson Burgess didn't love her, he didn't even care enough about her to mind if she was with someone else. Her heart hurt worse than it did between her legs, and she let her body go limp; let Jackson Burgess just keep doing all the things he wanted to do. She wasn't a participant in any of this now, she was just letting him use her.
He was still talking his dirty talk, still calling her names. She closed her eyes, thankful that she'd be gone next month and she wouldn't have to see him anymore. In a way she hoped she'd never see him again, because she understood now that all he was doing was using her, fucking her. She'd been in love with him since she was a little girl, the thought of being with him in this way, and then running into him in town and seeing him turn away or ignore her was too upsetting. It was better this way, she'd be gone before he could ignore her. He wouldn't have to pretend he hadn't seen her because she wouldn't be there to see. Her fingers dug into his ass cheeks as he began slamming into her harder. She squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could, bracing each time he pulled back for the next stab of pain.
Every bit of pleasure in this act was gone for her, there was only the dull ache of him pounding against her.
"You like that, Drea? You like being fucked nice and hard, don't you?" He groaned against her neck, completely oblivious to her discomfort.
She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying. "Mm, yes," she managed to choke out.
"Not the way the little boys in school fucked you, is it?" Jackson demanded.
"No," she gasped, as he hit something inside of her that took her breath away.
"God, I've wanted to do this to you for so fucking long," he breathed. "I didn't know you'd been fucking boys already. I'll bet they loved fucking you, your little cunt is still nice and fucking tight. You need this don't you? You need fucked by a real man don't you, Drea?"
She released her teeth from her lower lip. She could taste blood, it tasted bad, it was coppery and bitter and it left a bad taste in her mouth just like all the names he called her.
"Yes, Jackson. I need this. Fuck me."
'Drea looked up at him, his head was tipped back and his eyes were closed tight, his cock seemed to grow even bigger inside of her until it felt like she couldn't take it one more second. She was sobbing and he came, and he jerked his cock from inside of her, spraying his hot cum on her belly and her breasts. He rolled off of her, leaving her sticky, sore, and gaping, acting like if he couldn't get away from her fast enough. 'Drea curled her body up into a ball, and she lay motionless on the ground. He patted her hip. "Sorry I pulled out. I would have liked to come in you, but I didn't want to take no chances." He started laughing.
If this would have been a dream he would have kissed her and told her he loved her. Instead he took another drink of his whiskey and mumbled something about how well she could take a long hard fucking.
She rolled on her back and stared blankly at the darkening evening sky. Everything between her legs felt raw and sore.
Jackson frowned down at her for a minute before he spoke again.
"What's the matter with you?" he finally asked. His tone was casual, like nothing had happened.
The dam broke. Most of the words she spoke came out as incoherent sobs, but she did manage to admit that she hadn't done this before.
She saw his face then, and he looked down at the blood. Her blood, all over his dick. She saw him see it, and she could see the dark cloud of realization settle over him as he figured out what he had done. What they had done. He was a lot more upset than she expected him to be. His face changed, it was like she'd never seen it. He was beyond just regular mad, he was full of the most vehement anger she'd ever witnessed.
"You said you...Shit, Drea. What the fuck?" Despite his rage, or maybe because of it, he looked almost comical. His big hand was wrapped around his limp cock, holding it, staring at the reddish smear that ran down the length of it. This wasn't funny though, not any of it. She'd just given him something that she could never take back. She knew that it really hadn't mean shit to him, and now he was mad at her.
There were tears on her face but she turned and faced the water so that he couldn't see them anymore. Her cheek was pressed against the cool earth. "Don't worry. I'm not expecting nothing from you Jackson. I'm leaving in a few weeks. Nobody will know." He still had time to ask her not to go, to tell her that he really loved her.
"Why did you fucking do this?"
'Drea didn't say anything, and she could tell he was getting madder. He grabbed her shoulder and shook her hard.
"Why didn't you tell me? Why'd you lie and say you was with boys from your school? Why didn't you say that you never did this before?"
"Cause I was afraid you wouldn't have done it then," she said honestly. "I wanted my first time to be with you. That's all I've ever wanted."
She took a deep breath and against her better judgment she let the truth slip out, every last stupid naive bit. "Because...I love you, Jackson. I love you so much! I always have, for as long as I can remember ..."
He cut her off abruptly with an angry snarl. "Fuck, 'Drea! Don't you start talking about dumb shit like that!"
"Don't worry. I'm not going to follow you around, or write you love letters. I've seen the way you try so hard to avoid all the women you've fucked." She forced herself to roll over and managed a pretend smile. "This was all I wanted from you, I promise," she lied.
She could see a vein in his neck thumping. "Good," he said finally. "Cause it's all you're gonna get. God, you're so fucking stupid, 'Drea. You're a stupid little bitch!"
She nodded, and blinked back more tears, turning her face away. He was right, she was stupid.
"Fuck. I can't believe you! The things you let me say to you! The things you said back! Jesus Christ, 'Drea, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that fucking desperate to feel grown up?"
"I don't want to talk about this."
"Oh, you're going to talk about it!" He slammed his hand off his bare thigh.
It didn't seem to matter to him that she wasn't saying anything, he continued to rage on incessantly. After a while she didn't hear what he said anymore, they were only words, angry words. There was no love between them; if anything he hated her at this moment. She couldn't stand to hear him another minute. She pulled herself into a sitting position and glared into his heated eyes.
"I can't take it back, can I Jackson? You can scream at me all fucking day, but I can't take it back or make it so it never happened or believe me I would. I swear to fucking God, I would. So you might as well just stop hating me, I didn't do this because I wanted to feel grown up. I wanted to be with you because I loved you. All my fucking life, with all my fucking heart, I have loved you."
She shook her head and her voice just seemed to give out on her. "I don't anymore." Those words had come out barely audible, without thinking, but she knew Jackson heard her. She wondered if it could be true. She was hurt, but did she really not love him? He was Jackson fucking Burgess, how could she possibly not love him?
He stared back at her, his eyes black and unreadable. Was he hurt by those words, or just angry? It was impossible to tell. For just a second she hoped he was hurt; she hoped he was hurt bad way down inside just the way that she was.
"I don't understand why you did this."
"I already told you," 'Drea said, feeling as frustrated as she was sad. She hadn't done it all on her own! He was there too.
"Because you love me..." Jackson said without emotion. He looked down at the ground. "Jesus...You made it sound like you did this a lot!"
"How many times have you done this before?" she asked, not certain why she wanted to know, and not really expecting an answer.
"I don't know," he mumbled. "Quite a few, I suppose."
"Was it alright...being with me, I mean?" As soon as she finished the sentence she wanted to bite her goddamn tongue off. Was she expecting a fucking compliment from him? It was pretty obvious that wasn't what was going to happen here.
He touched her face softly in a moment of tenderness that she was completely unprepared for. "It was nice, 'Drea. I just wish I would have known that you never...I mean I would have been a lot easier with you and I wouldn't of said those things to you."
It was nice. Her mind screamed that word over and over. Nice! Nice! Nice! Nice was a word you used to describe the fucking weather on a sunny day, it wasn't how you described being with someone you loved. Someone you'd waited your whole life for.
She reached beside her and picked up her forgotten shirt. Turning away from him once more she put it back on. Her shorts and panties were balled up on the ground beside her and she struggled to get them back on without standing up. She couldn't look at him anymore, and she damn sure didn't want him looking at her either.
"Tell me something," Jackson asked softly, his anger seemingly forgotten. "Was it like you thought it was going to be?"
It was, and it wasn't, and there was absolutely no way to explain it to him in a way that he could understand.
How could she make him understand when she didn't? While she knew that what had just happened meant absolutely nothing to him it had only made her love him more. But now that she understood what really happened all her feelings kind of shut down. It was like today. Her birthday; she'd waited so long for it to happen and now that it was really here it was all one big letdown. Sometimes anticipation is better than the event.
"I don't know, it was okay, I guess. I mean some of it sort of hurt," she answered without turning around. "I guess I thought it would be different...I thought you'd be different."
"Different than what?"
"I thought you'd be nice. I thought you'd at least kiss me." It hurt to breathe, her chest was heavy. No more words would come, only choked sobs.
He put his arms around her neck and kissed her softly on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Drea. Fuck, I didn't know, you made it sound like you..." He shook his head, and pulled her close to his damp chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry sweetheart. I didn't know."
She pulled away, recoiling from his touch despite the fact that there was nothing that she would have loved more than to be held by him. Any sweet words or caring from him were only going to make it worse. She'd already made a fool of herself.
"We shouldn't have done this," he said. "I shouldn't have done it. Not with you, especially not like this, out in the fucking woods here." He sighed. "Shouldn't have done it at all. Hell, I've known you since you were a baby."
"I'm not a baby anymore," she protested, scrubbing the tears from her face with her hands.
"Not a virgin anymore either," Jackson mumbled, as he zipped up his jeans. "Jesus, your fucking Daddy will kill me if he ever finds out."
She heard him take another drink.
"He won't find out." She worked hard to keep any emotion from creeping into her voice. She wasn't going to cry like a little girl in front of him again.
"Fuck. I hope not. If I'm lucky no one will ever find out what we just did."
She stood up blindly, those words stinging like a slap in the face. He was ashamed they'd done it. Ashamed of being with her.
"I'm going to find my calf," she said, turning up the hill and leaving him sitting there. Poor Honey was still missing and she had forgotten all about her.
She was halfway up the other side of the hill in the pasture when he caught up with her. Part of her was relieved that he had come after her, but another part of her just wanted him to go away.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing. I just want to find my calf."
Jackson was saying something, but all she heard was Honey. It was a mournful, pitiful sound, and she raced towards it. In the tall grass, in the corner of the field, was a roll of discarded barbed-wire. Her dad had probably forgotten it there when he had replaced the fencing earlier in the year. Somehow the calf had become ensnared in it, and it was wrapped-up tight around her good front leg. There was dried blood in the weeds, so much of it that she worried that the calf had lost too much to survive. 'Drea dropped to her knees beside her and tried untangling the wire from her leg. The act of pulling the wire only caused Honey more pain, and she writhed and struggled, twisting the rusty barbs further into her shredded skin.
Jackson stood over them, his body casting a long dark shadow over 'Drea and the injured calf. "What happened to her leg?"
Irritated, 'Drea snapped, "It's tangled in the fucking barbed wire, can't you see?"
"No, her other leg."
"She was born this way. Her leg didn't develop all the way."
'Drea pulled at the wire frantically, and Honey jerked in pain, slicing a barb deep into 'Drea's hand.
'Drea laid her palm against the leg of her shorts and pressed hard, trying to stop her own bleeding. "Are you going to help me, Jackson?"
He knelt beside her on the ground, but made no move to do anything. He finally reached down and touched Honey's deformed leg. "She should have been culled when she was born." There was no sympathy in his voice.
"Yeah, you know. I'll go get my rifle and I'll take care of this for you."
"You won't do any such fucking thing! If you aren't going to help me get her loose then leave me alone." Those tears that she'd managed to hold in for so long were uncontainable now. "Go home and pretend you don't fucking know me, and if you're lucky nobody will ever find out what we did!"
He didn't say anything, but she knew he heard her. He heard her and maybe he finally understood what she was feeling. From his hip pocket he took out a multipurpose tool, and he began carefully snipping the rusty wire away from Honey's leg. She watched his big hands pressing down on the handles of that tool, cutting the wire away as if it were nothing. When he'd finally freed Honey's leg he wrapped his old gray t-shirt around it tightly.
"You're gonna have to call the vet for her," he said. "I don't think she's lost too much blood, but that rusty wire can cause some nasty infections. She's going to need antibiotics. If she loses that leg she's in a world of shit without a good one to fall back on." He touched 'Drea's injured hand gently. "You'd best get to the hospital and get a tetanus shot yourself.
'Drea gathered Honey up in her arms and started walking back down the hill. The muscles in her thighs ached, and the crotch of her panties rubbed and chafed, reminding her of what she'd done. She could still hear him saying the word slut over and over.
"I'll carry her for you," Jackson offered, following closely behind them.
'Drea ignored him and kept walking. Honey was heavy and there was blood dripping from 'Drea's hand, but she refused to ask Jackson to help her. Not now, not ever again was she going to ask Jackson Burgess for a damn thing.
"Look, this wasn't my fault," Jackson said in what seemed to be a sudden burst of anger. "You practically begged me to fuck you. You're the one who made yourself sound like some little fucking whore. I thought you was just tired of boys and wanted to see what it was like to be with a man."
"Well, when the day I'm finally with a man comes I guess I'll find out," 'Drea retorted.
"You're real funny, aren't you, you little bitch?"
'Drea kept walking without turning around to see if he had gone. She wasn't going to answer him anymore, and she was tired of fighting. All he seemed to want to do was call her names. She was a slut, a whore, and now a bitch too.
"I hope your little freak calf dies you dumb slut," she heard him hiss.
He could have hauled off and hit her just as hard as he could swing and it would have hurt less than those words did. She turned to look at him, but he was just an ugly blur through the tears in her eyes.
"I wasted my whole life. Thinking about you, being in love with you! You're right, I am dumb! Not anymore. You're nothing I ever thought you were! I'm glad I know what kind of man you really are Jackson Burgess."
He laughed. "Yeah, you loved me your whole life! That's why you were trying to act like you'd been fucking other boys? Did you want me to be jealous, 'Drea? All you did was piss me off! The next one that has you won't ever measure up to the fucking I just gave you. You can't change what we done. You can't change that I was the first man to ever fuck you." He smiled smugly. "You'll remember me your whole life."
She closed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip. The Jackson Burgess who'd brought her baby bunnies was gone. There was only this hateful man here now. A hateful man who killed deer and wished her little calf was dead. The man who had just fucked her in the dirt.
"No. I can't," she agreed. "You're right. I will remember you my whole life...and I'll never forgive you." She cradled Honey protectively. "I'm not a slut, Jackson Burgess." 'Drea looked down at her feet. She wasn't a slut, but she sure felt like she'd acted like one.
She turned away from Jackson and went down the hill as fast as her legs could carry her. Something inside of her waited for him to come chasing after her, telling her that he was sorry and that he loved her. He didn't come, and when she was almost to the barn she turned around just to check. Jackson Burgess was gone.
She couldn't stop crying when he had met her at the barn door. He thought the tears were for Honey, and a lot of them were, but a lot of them were for Jackson Burgess too.
Her father was standing in the kitchen late that night when she came inside. It was shortly after old doc Miller had patched up Honey's leg and gone home. The vet said that Honey should be okay, and while she was relieved about that it didn't help her heart feel better about anything that had happened down by Carson's Creek that day. Any hope she ever had of there being anything between her and Jackson Burgess was long gone.
"Can we not fight anymore Drea?" her dad said, and he solemnly held out a bottle of beer towards her. "Samuel Adams, the good stuff. Peace offering?"
It should have been a big deal, her father offering her a beer. It should have been a banner moment that made her proud and feel grown. Drea shook her head. She'd already done all the growing up that day she could stand.
"No thanks. I'm really tired. I'm going to head up to bed."
She went up the old stairs marking off the days in her head until she was leaving for Muskapeak. Twenty more days and she would finally be free of this life. She carried Jackson's gray t-shirt, clutching it tight in her hand, not sure why she hadn't just left it lying out in the barn.
In the big clawfoot tub she scrubbed away every last trace of him from her skin. If only it were that easy to erase him from her mind. As she put on her pajamas 'Drea looked at the shirt that she had left draped over the side of the sink. She picked it up once more and smelled it. It still reeked of Jackson, and something about the smell of him brought fresh tears to her eyes.
'Drea fell asleep curled in a little ball on her bed, still holding Jackson's dirty shirt. Strange dreams interfered with her sleep, she thought that she woke sometime during the night and there was an owl at her window. It was trying to get into her room through the screen, and even in the semi-darkness she could see there was something terribly wrong with its eyes. She slammed the window closed, and the bird's feet raked in a frenzy at the glass, sharp talons clenching and unclenching at nothing. Suddenly it was gone, leaving only the empty dark of an August night framed in the glass.
When the morning sun streamed in the window 'Drea opened her eyes. They were swollen from crying. She rolled over and looked outside. She didn't feel any different today, no more of a woman than she had the day before. She was sore and the stings on her arms were itchy. It was just another hazy, humid day. It was too hot in her room, the air was completely still. It was odd to see that the window was closed. That dream must have felt pretty real if she'd gone so far as to close the window in her sleep.
She blinked her puffy eyes as she stared at the glass. There were brownish streaks on the pane. 'Drea knelt on the bed and leaned towards the window. Blood. There was dried blood on the glass, and the screen outside was torn and shredded. She looked down at the roof below the window in horror at the lifeless barn owl lying on the shingles.