The inside was even worse than the outside. Dust coated every surface, and the wooden floors looked like they hadn't seen a mop in decades, caked with grime that no amount of elbow grease could remove in a single day.
The space was large and airy, with high ceilings and big windows that let in the oppressive Texas sunlight.
But it was going to need a complete makeover to become even remotely habitable.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of her lighter.
The first drag helped ease her frustration, but the oppressive heat made her regret her decision to wear tight jeans and a white button-down shirt.
She wanted to strip out of her clothes right then and there.
Nope. She couldn't do this.
"Any complaints?"
The cowboy's voice startled her, and she nearly jumped. She had completely forgotten he was still standing there.
"Yes," she snapped, blowing smoke to the side. "Does the plumbing at least work?"
"Sure does," he replied confidently.
"Oh, thank God." Relief flooded her.
"But..." he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. "We're currently sharing a single shower. The one in your flat had a minor malfunction this morning."
She swallowed the scream building in her throat. "Of course it did."
"Is there a housekeeper I can hire to clean this place out?" she asked, forcing a polite smile.
The man rubbed his beard thoughtfully. "Yep, I'll let her know."
Her fake smile widened. "Wonderful. Now, please show me the shower."
He nodded and led her toward the main mansion.
The interior was exactly what she expected from an 80s-style cowboy estate, cozy, rustic, and charming in a way that grated on her nerves.
The living room featured a massive stone fireplace with a mantle covered in old photographs and trophies.
A worn leather sectional sat in the center, accented by cowhide rugs and oak furniture.
The walls were lined with wooden paneling and shelves stacked with books, cowboy hats, and the occasional antique gun.
The dining area boasted a long oak table with hand-carved chairs, and the kitchen was surprisingly modern, though still steeped in country charm.
Stainless steel appliances clashed with the rustic cabinets and a farmhouse sink that looked straight out of a vintage catalog.
"And this…" the cowboy said as he led her outside, "is the pool area. The boss's prized possession."
The pool was a stunning contrast to the rest of the property.
Sleek and modern, it was surrounded by polished stone tiles and illuminated by soft, recessed lighting.
A waterfall feature at one end cascaded into the crystal-clear water, and lounge chairs with plush white cushions were arranged neatly around the perimeter.
Palm trees framed the area, giving it an oasis-like vibe in the middle of nowhere.
His phone buzzed, and he fumbled for it in his pocket. "Shoot, I gotta run. Forgot to turn off the tractor out back. Hope you can find your way back!"
She nodded absently, her eyes locked on the pool as he jogged away.
The temptation was too much to resist. His prized possession, huh? She smirked and rolled her eyes.
Slowly, she stripped off her clothes, relishing the cool breeze that brushed against her bare skin. She dipped a toe into the water before slipping in completely, letting the refreshing depths envelop her.
It felt perfect.
Lighting another cigarette, she leaned back against the edge, the contrast between the burning heat of the cigarette and the cool water making her pulse quicken.
She let her fingers trail down her body, the sensation sending shivers through her. Her legs widened as her fingertips brushed against the folds of her pussy.
A low hiss escaped her lips as she found the perfect rhythm. She was on the brink, her head falling back, when-
"Are you enjoying yourself?"
The deep voice cut through the silence, jolting her soul out of her body.
Her head snapped up, her cigarette nearly slipping from her fingers.