Free Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 1.2 - Rough Broke by Kate Sherwood Page A

job in his rec room, so if the message is divine in origin, your foster family needs to rethink some of the rules they live by.
When your mom gets better and you get to go home, you're happy,

Rough Broke | Kate Sherwood
    of course, happy that she's well enough to leave the hospital. But it's hard to leave the horses. The family says to come back whenever you want, and you try to, hitchhiking out a few times a week at least. They let you ride whoever you want, and you do chores in return, whatever needs to be done, and sometimes the mom will come out and give you tips on riding. She loans you a couple books about horses, and you study them the way the family studies their Bible.
***
    One Saturday morning, bright and sunny with the heat already starting to shimmer off the pavement, you're hitching out to the farm and a guy in a big silver Mercedes picks you up, and he says he can give you a ride right to the farm door but he needs to stop somewhere first. You're not stupid, you know that's a bad idea, but the car's already moving, and it doesn't slow down until it's turning off the road onto a rough sort of trail, bumping along for a few hundred feet before it hits a clearing and stops.
    You think about running, have your hand on the door handle, but then he reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a little baggie, full of off-white powder, and you hope that's all this is about, because the guy's pretty big, and he looks fit and strong, and you're only fifteen and small for your age, and you're pretty sure he could outrun you and damn sure he could outfight you. He snorts some of the powder, and offers it to you, and you mimic his actions. If things are okay, if the guy's friendly, then it seems like the polite thing to do, and if things aren't okay, then it might be best to have a bit of a reality-buffer in place.
    Things aren't okay. He gets out of the car to take a piss, he says, but he comes around to your side of the car and opens your door, and you know what's coming, in general terms if not in specifics, and the guy's not that old, you tell yourself, and he's not bad looking, and it really seems like it's going to happen anyway so maybe it would be better if you decided that you want it. You don't want it, not at all, but you don't say no,

Rough Broke | Kate Sherwood
because if you say no and he does it anyway, that's something else entirely, something really bad. You don't want that to happen to you.
    He pulls you out of the car, not rough but not gentle, and he turns you around so you're facing away from him, and he pulls you in snug against him and you can feel his dick rubbing up against you. He undoes your pants, and one hand runs up over your chest, holding you in place more than caressing you, while the other works your pants and boxers down. He pushes you forward, so your head and chest are resting on the hood of the car, and your ass is exposed, and it's pretty clear what's about to happen. You've never done that before, never even been touched there before, except for your own explorations.
    There's the click of a lid being flicked open, and you're a little relieved, because you've heard that it hurts even worse without lube, and that makes sense. You wonder what it means that the guy had the stuff with him, must have been in the pocket of his jacket because you never saw him fishing for anything in the car. You wonder if that means he planned this, and you wonder what kind of person plans something like that on a sunny, already-hot Saturday morning.
    Then his finger is there, cold and hard and bigger than yours, and when you tense up he laughs and pushes in a little harder. Still, he's taking the time to stretch you, at least a little, so that means it's consensual, means this is something you've agreed to, and that makes it okay. Or better, at least. It can't be the other thing.
    There's another finger, and you've never done that to yourself, and it hurts. You squirm, but his other hand clamps onto the