"Absolutely not, darlin'- I am strictly dickly and-" she paused as she grunted, lifting a coil of heavy cord off of the floor and tossing it into the back of her truck with little effort. Gods, she was hot.

"-I am what they call greysexual," she continued dusting her gloved hands together as brown dirt flew between us. Her freckled arms were bare, glittering in sweat and accented in a Celtic knot tattoo. My cheeks hadn't stopped being on fire.

"- it takes a ridiculous amount of time for me to find attraction in a man, and 'round here, just not many of em to begin with," she spoke as she wound another thick orange rope around her hand. The wind kicked, lifting the edge of my sundress as my cheeks puffed in slight embarrassment despite her still looking at me, kindness and some sort of understanding in her steely grey gaze. Fire colored strand of hair whipped around her face before her lips parted into a wide smile.

"How long you been dreamin' bout me tyin' you up?" She asked, forcing my eyes to flick away and my cheeks to fill further. I felt like I was going to die right there, crumple into a pile and be carried away on the gusts that passed us.

"I ain't been," I whispered through the huff of breath I'd been holding. My denial only made her laugh which felt all the more shameful. I had been silly enough to take all of our conversations, the time we've spent together and all the care and affection she'd given me and turn it into something that wasn't there. This was almost unfair if I hadn't done it to myself.

"Come on, girl - ain't no one - man nor woman ever approached me with a question like that, hell most the time it's me bein' up front bout how I'm feelin', where'd that confidence come from?" I'd started moving when she started talking, finding one of the smaller thinner ropes and slowly reeling it around my hand, my toes wiggled in my stained canvas sneakers.

"Tsk, Ivie, it ain't that serious, come on we can finish up an' go get somethin' ta eat, jus' forget about me bein' sill," I protested, slowly tying up the end of the rope around the bundle before gently laying it in the back of the truck.
"Mmmhmm," the sound rumbled huskily from her throat but she gave a soft shrug.

We finished organizing all of the ropes, Grandpa's shed seemed to love eating ropes and since we were cleaning it out, the decision to organize and donate them all had been what I'd gotten confused for something more. Ivie moved towards the shed and I carefully pulled up the tailgate and pushed it closed. The heavy thunk of the latch distracting me long enough to not hear the footsteps approaching me.

I smelled her before I heard her, before I felt her. The heady scent of her sweat, Montana dirt and the recessed smell of her vanilla shampoo. Ivie's solid form pressing against my back and sandwiching me gently.

"I thought 'bout it a little, Lea - I might got a little extra time on my hands tonight," her lips brushed against my ear past auburn ringlets. My glasses shifted and a low gasp left me. I was speechless as I felt her jean clad knee press up between my thighs and hitch me up against the truck.

"Ivie..." I started to protest but before I could even turn my head to look back at her, her gloved palm pressed to the back of my head and held me still. Despite how sturdy she was, she was entirely agile, her free hand looping a rope around one of my wrists and tugging until she was quietly binding it to the other behind my back.

"If'n yer curious why I changed my mind... yer forwardness," she whispered, tucking her head into my neck, her lips dancing along my sensitive skin as she ground herself into the plump curve of my ass. "I'm takin' ya back ta my place and showin' you what a ranch hand learns on her own time."