Imitating Fiction

           “What the f**k do you know about living on a farm?”            I didn’t have an answer for my best friend, Tyson, who was currently yelling at me on the phone. I’d been asking myself the same question for the last three days since arriving at my new home- a five-acre plot of land with a small, but charming farm house in the middle of literally nowhere. The closest town, Encrucejada, Texas, was a fifteen-minute drive on a good day. It was a pretty town, but tiny. There were a handful of restaurants, some boutiques, a convenience store and two gas stations. The closest grocery store was a thirty-minute drive away, and the closest Wholefoods Market was at least an hour and a half. It was enough to make me question the sanity of my rash decision. “You’re the one that suggested a change of scenery,” I sulk. “Yeah, I meant like taking me for a week in Cabo, or wine tours in Tuscany, or hunting for hobbits in New Zealand. Not moving to butt f**k middle of nowhere Texas!” Honestly, it all kind of happened too fast and snowballed out of my control. A couple of years ago, I wrote a book about fairies that could charm the pants off anyone, heart throb vampires, and werewolves that had no trouble filling a lap. Yeah, it was mostly smut. I hadn’t had s*x in six months and I was losing my mind. Of course, my current dry spell has lasted over a year, but who’s counting? Anyway, no one was supposed to read my book. I wrote it mainly to prove to myself that I could, but also as a way to let out some of my s****l tension so I wouldn’t be as tempted to follow the next bit of interesting looking strange into a bathroom stall at a club. What I wasn’t counting on was my best friend, the same one currently yelling at me, to hack into my computer and read it. He loved it. Of course. He started submitting it to a few publishing companies, but they all rejected it. I’ll tell you what, that’s fantastic for a girl’s ego. He refused to give up, though. One night he got me drunk. Like really drunk. As in totally smashed, hitting on your gay best friend, willing to agree to anything drunk. Somehow, he convinced me to publish the story on a reading app. I didn’t even know things like that existed at the time, but Ty’s always been full of surprises. It wasn’t an instant hit, but it formed a pretty good following and before I knew it, I had fans asking me questions and wondering when my next book would come out. When an influencer found it and liked it, that’s when the snowball really started. She shared it with her followers, they shared it with everyone they knew, a publisher and agent signed me, the book was printed, and someone in Hollywood decided to turn it into a movie. They asked me to write the screenplay and be involved, but told me to tone down the s*x to a more PG-13 level. The movie is rated R. One of the actors nearly dropped out during filming because the b**m scene got “too real.” “Aren’t elves supposed to be quirky and cute?” he whined as he was supposed to be whipping his love interest. “Apparently, you missed Orlando Bloom as Legolas. Not a dry pair of panties in the theater any time he was on screen,” I’d answered. “And you’re not an elf, you’re fae. They’re as kinky as they come.” Actually, it was kind of cute how he kept asking the actress he was supposed to have tied up if she was ok. It ruined a lot of good takes, but eventually the director got enough that he was happy with. The movie came out last month to mixed reviews. Some of the book fans were, predictably, not happy with it. “Needed more hard core s*x and the b**m wasn’t believable,” was mine and Tyson’s favorite review so far. The problem is, now I’m under even more pressure to write another hit and I don’t have any good ideas. Honestly, the first one was just a fluke! When Tyson suggested a change of scenery, I thought he made a pretty convincing point. So, I put my condo in Santa Monica on the market and put an offer on the little farm house in the Hill Country of Texas. My condo sold in two days, and I was in my new home in a week. I’ve never been very good with impulse control. And it all happened so fast, I didn’t get a chance to tell Ty about it until I was already unpacking boxes. “Ty, stop freaking out! Maybe this will be good for me. You need to come out here for a visit. The town is adorable, there are a bunch of little shops to poke around in. And I have pecan trees, and mesquites, and… others I haven’t identified yet. There’s even a chicken coop. I could have chickens!” I say trying to make it sound like I’d thought this out more than I had. “What do you know about chickens? Rye, I love you, but have you lost your mind?” Yes. Completely. “No, Ty, I swear, it’s really nice out here.” “How many snakes have you seen so far?” I go silent at the idea. Of course there are snakes out here! I look out the window as though at that moment, a whole army of slithering agents of evil would be menacing towards the house. “None,” I squeak out. “Uh-huh. Just you wait. Snakes and spiders and scorpions and who knows what else is lurking out there!” Ok, now he’s starting to piss me off. “Hey, aren’t you the one that said I could do anything I put my mind to? That I am so much stronger than I think I am? Or was that some other best friend that believes in me?” Shamed silence waited a beat on the other end of the phone. “Ok, but I meant writing. Here. Where you belong!” “Well, who knows? Maybe I’ll have great inspiration out here, write the next great American novel, and be able to have a house on the west coast and a farm.” I look towards my driveway as a truck I don’t recognize pulls in. I can’t see any neighbors from my new place, but I know they’re out there. And the town is so small that I assumed there was some sort of social alarm that went off whenever a newcomer moved in. “Ty, I’ve got to go. There’s a welcoming committee here. Promise me you’ll plan a visit soon. And bring cheese! The good stuff, that’s one thing I haven’t been able to find out here yet.” “Watch out for the locals, Ryeka, some of those country folks are crazy and they’re all armed!” “Yeah, yeah. Love you, worry wort.” “Love you more, lunatic.” I hang up my phone and step out onto my front porch, plastering a smile on my face, just as a very large, very attractive, very angry man gets out of the truck in my driveway. His cowboy boots are battered and look like they fit his feet like a second skin. The jeans that hang low and snug on his narrow hips showcase an impressive bulge that I try not to stare too hard at. A faded Bon Jovi t-shirt stretches across a broad, muscular chest and strains to contain massive biceps with swirling tattoos looping down both arms to his wrists. His dark brown hair is streaked with lighter highlights and is long enough to curl just slightly at his neck. His strong jaw is shaded with several days of dark stubble, and a low brow shaded intense grey-green eyes that remind me of a deep lake before a storm. My smile falters as those angry eyes glare at me. “Who the f**k are you?” he growls. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before bracing my fists on my hips and trying to look more intimidating than I actually am in my denim cutoffs, old tank top, and bare feet. I’m not small, not really. At 5’7”, I’m taller than most women I’ve met, but judging from how big this guy was next to his truck, I’d put him at well over six foot. I also go to the gym and do yoga, so I have some lean muscles, but he looked like he might be carved from stone. Really sexy stone. “Ryeka Haddish,” I call back, happy that my voice sounds firm. “Who the f**k are you?” His eyebrows raise slightly, obviously not a man used to being asked questions in the same tone he felt so comfortable using. “Where is Geena?” I shake my head. “I don’t know any Geena.” “This is her house. Where is she?” he growls the words through a clenched jaw. “Point of fact, this is my house. You must be lost.” He stalks towards the porch, moving like a predator. The breeze swirls around me, flicking my hair into my face again. When I tuck it back, I realize he’s frozen in place. The look of anger was gone, replaced by something I can’t quite discern. Lust? Fear? Hope? Annoyance? Every emotion seems to flit across his features as he stares at me. I know I should probably go inside, lock the doors, and call someone, but for some insane reason, I’m not afraid. Calmness has settled into me as though I know on instinct, he would never hurt me. Suddenly, he crosses quickly to the porch in a few long strides. I blink in disbelief as his body slams me up against my door and his mouth crashes to mine. He tastes like moonlight. And no, I can’t quantify that. I know moonlight doesn’t have a taste, but the instant our tongues meet in a frenzied dance I can only picture the moon’s silvery light reflected on the rippling waters of the Pacific Ocean while gentle waves lap at the shore in a lazy rhythm. His strong hands slide under my ass and lift me effortlessly as my legs wrap instinctively around his waist. I plunge my hands into his hair as I moan against him. I can feel his hard length between my legs, my panties instantly soaking through with need. The longing to take him to my bedroom and let him do whatever he wants is so strong I almost open the door, wanting to cry out his name. A name I don’t know. The thought is enough to bring me back to the present moment and I pull back slightly. “Wait,” I pant as his head dips lower and he trails hot kisses down my throat to the curve of my shoulder. The pleasure as he nips and licks a sensitive area I didn’t even know existed is so intense I close my eyes on another moan as my body writhes against him. This is crazy. “Wait,” I say again, a little stronger. It seems to pull him out of the spell he’s under. With one last flick of his tongue on my sensitive flesh, he sets me down gently, almost regretfully. His eyes seem to flicker to black, but it’s so quick, I figure I must have imagined it. “I’m sorry. I got overwhelmed.” I’m grateful to hear his breathless, husky voice as proof that I’m not the only one feeling the strangely intense emotions of the sudden kiss. “That makes two of us,” I smile at him, and his eyes flicker again. This time I know I’m not imagining it, but it’s still impossible nonetheless. Our bodies are still pressed together intimately, my hands gripping his arms lightly. The top of my head barely reaches his chin and I feel dwarfed by his immensity. “I should go before I…” he trails off, stepping back, but his smoldering eyes hold me captivated. I whimper a little as his warmth leaves me and I blush at my reaction to him. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone, and I’d certainly never been with anyone who looked like this, but that was still no reason to be quite so pathetic. Or easy. He turns to descend the steps and return to his truck. “Do I get to know your name?” I call out to him. If all I was going to get out of this was a pretty face to picture as I ride my vibrator, I need to know what name to call out. He turns with a dazzling smile that makes my knees go weak. “Jarek. Jarek Barrett.” He climbs in his truck and I watch him pull out, the dust billowing behind him as he drives away. Going back in the house, I head straight for my bedroom. What I need is still in a box, but I know exactly which one and I had put fresh batteries in it only a few days ago.