My Little Farm Girl

Chapter 6: CALLAN

She sat like a piece of wood in the seat next to me, that damn lip still caught between her teeth as she looked out the window when she wasn't stealing peeks at me out the side of her eye.

I wonder if she knew what that biting the lip thing meant to a man like me? I doubt it; from what Marion had said, this girl came from the sticks and was probably as green as it was possible to be; then again, Marion's estimations haven't been so spot on so far.

I should probably start up a conversation and break the ice, but I needed all my concentration to deal with the s**t that was going on with me.

I had a niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach that something big was going on here, what that was, I couldn't say, but I know that feeling.

I've experienced it before every major win of my racing career, only this time, I'm afraid it had something to do with the half-frightened girl sitting next to me.

My mind started heading in the wrong direction, and I had to catch myself. No way, Callan, that's what my head was saying, but my d**k had other ideas.

I've been hit by the instant attraction train before, but somehow this felt different. Now wasn't the time to think about it, though; this was something I'd have to take out and reexamine at a later date when my senses weren't so full of her.

I took her to a nice little Italian bistro for a bite to eat. She seemed nervous and kept her head down as we sat at the table.

Damn, she was ringing all my bells at this point and so effortlessly too. “What would you like to eat, Gabriella?" I lifted the leather-bound menu and perused the fare on offer.

I wasn't really hungry, but I figured she needed to eat, and knowing Marion, all that would be on offer was sparkling water and lettuce.

The woman starved herself to keep up with the models and starlets that graced the covers of the magazine she worked for.

Besides, I wasn't quite ready to relinquish her company just yet, but I wasn't gonna look at the reasons for that too closely right now.

She had another dangerous affectation, dangerous to me anyway. She held her tongue in the crease of her lips as she studied the menu.

I knew she wasn't doing it on purpose that it was just something she obviously did naturally, but that just made it worst. “Is it okay if I have a burger?" She finally felt brave enough to look up at me.

I could cry, really. She was just so…fuck; the way she looked over at me as she waited for me to tell her yes or no to a question that the average person would've taken for granted had my c**k doing handsprings.

“If that's what you want, sweetheart." It was a wonder. My voice remained calm and level. There goes that blush again. She ducked her head again and went back to gnawing on that lip.

I felt the restless tension that had been riding me for so long now start to dissipate. Just sitting there across from her in that dimly lit room, with the candlelight glinting off her hair and adding a certain glow to her skin, I felt something in me shift.

I've always been a man of action, always went after the brass ring, and taking chances was in my blood. I got that from gramps; he was the risk-taking king. But I would have to go slow here; there were too many variables at work for me to do otherwise.

The waiter came over and took our orders, and when she looked to me to place hers as well, that simple gesture sealed her fate.

My mind was in a quandary as to how I was gonna play this, but at least my c**k was happy again, the silly bastard. He never saw trouble. He avoided.

I gave the young waiter our orders and waited until he walked away to set my plan in motion. I hadn't missed the looks he'd been giving her under his lashes, and that was another reason why I had to move fast.

With her looks and sweet disposition, I had no doubt the sharks would be swarming, especially if Marion exposed her to some of her less than exemplary friends.

I couldn't let that happen; no one else was going to touch her but me. I studied her as I tried to put s**t in perspective. If I did this, I'd better be sure of my intentions.

It was one thing to go on the hunt in the midst of the women who were part of the game. The more sophisticated crowd who knew what they were about and who, like me and so many others, was just looking for a good time.

Someone like her would be crushed if I were to use and discard her so callously, I had no doubt. If she had been indifferent to me, maybe that would've saved her.

But I didn't miss the way she kept blushing each time she stole a look at me or the way she flushed and fidgeted in her seat whenever my attention was turned completely on her.

It could've been her natural reaction to being with a strange man, but somehow I didn't think so. I'm man enough to know when a woman, or girl, in this case, is interested in me.

Now how do I turn that interest into something I wanted, something that could be satisfying to both of us?