Cowgirls Don't Cry (30 page)
“This isn’t gonna take long,” she gasped.
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“Then I can do this again later.” He did a twirly, swirly maneuver from her clit to her anus. Using his lips and his tongue in such raunchy ways.
“Brandt.” So close. She rolled her hips back, wanting that continual attention to her pleasure point.
He growled and brought her down, so she straddled his face. She had no idea how he was breathing, but when he fastened his mouth to her top of her sex and did a sexy rhythmic, slurping thing directly on her clit, she didn’t care. “Yes. Please. Don’t stop.”
Her hands grabbed fistfuls of the quilt as Brandt kept pushing her higher. Each lick. Each suck. Each incredible flicker of his tongue and she was sure her body would simply ignite.
And it did. Jessie pressed her face into the mattress and bit back a scream as her clit pulsed against Brandt’s hot mouth. Despite the blood pounding in her groin, her ears and her throat, she still heard the sexy sounds of him swallowing. Drinking her down.
That set her off again.
When she floated back from that head rushing, body buzzing happy place, she pushed herself back up on her knees. She smoothed back her tangled hair and scooted down Brandt’s upper torso so she could see his face.
His look of cockiness was totally justified. He licked his lips and said, “Mmm. Tasty.”
Jessie fastened her mouth to his, surprising him with an openmouthed kiss, sucking her taste from his tongue, rubbing her face through the sticky glaze on his cheeks, nipping and biting and enjoying his shock.
She said, “Move up and spread out.”
“Jess—”
“No arguments, buster. You agreed. Me. In charge.”
Brandt sighed, but it wasn’t a sigh of frustration.
She pinned his arms above his head and allowed her hands to track the muscles from his wrists down the sinew defining in his forearms, over the bulge of his biceps to the cup of his shoulders. “I never get to touch you enough.”
“Anytime you want, all you want.”
“You’re usually so busy touching me. It makes me lose my mind and I sort of get lost.” She snared her gaze. “That’s not fair to you.”
“If you knew how long I’d dreamed of getting my hands all over you, Jess, you’d know how untrue that statement really is.”
Her belly fluttered. She ducked her head from the intensity in his eyes and let her palms drift over his pectorals. God. There was just something so wholly masculine about a guy with chest hair. This part of his body always smelled good. Not musky like his groin, but earthy. Soap and sweat. She rubbed her lips down the delineated line between his pecs, loving how the crisp hair tickled her chin and cheek. She rubbed her face all over his chest, practically purring.
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Brandt’s hand landed on the side of her head and he brushed the hair from her cheek.
She looked up at him. “Did I say you could touch me?”
“No. But I like watchin’ you touchin’ me. It’s sexy as hell.”
“Mmm. So you wanna watch me do this?” Jessie used the tip of her tongue to trace the outline of his right nipple.
His arms broke out in goose flesh. “Christ.”
“I guess you like that.” Jessie closed her eyes and sucked the flat disk until the center drew up into a rigid point. She let her tongue flick back and forth before she sucked hard again. Then she used her teeth.
She felt his cock jumping between their bodies and she curled her hand around the shaft, pumping it while she tongued his nipple.
“Fuck. Oh fuck.”
Reducing Brandt’s vocabulary to curse words was a good sign. Her lips skimmed his skin as she blindly sought the nipple on the other side. Her mouth enclosed the tiny nub and she got those same hot, sexy noises when she worked it relentlessly.
His hips pumped up, which meant he was ready for the next phase of seduction. She slowly kissed her way down the trail of dark hair running along the center of his belly.
“Jess. Fuck.”
“No fucking yet. I want you in my mouth for a little while first.”
He groaned.
She smiled. She let her breath tease the purple crown of his cock before she swallowed him to where her right gripped the thick base. She didn’t move, concentrating on the heat and the hardness and the taste of this intimate part of him.
Brandt didn’t buck his pelvis, or grab her head, or ask for her to finish him. He allowed her to do what she wanted, despite the rapid beat of his pulse in the vein running up the length of his dick, a vein that pulsed so sweetly against her tongue.
Jessie took her time, using all the tricks she’d learned about him that made him moan or twitch or curse. She stopped teasing him and lifted her head. “I’m giving you two choices.”
“Which are?”
“I suck you off. Or…”
Just a tad impatiently he demanded, “Or what?”
“We do something new.”
He waited.
“What’s your dirty girl fantasy, Brandt?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do to a woman but you’ve never tried?”
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His gaze skittered away and then back. “Why are you askin’ me this?”
“Because I wanna fulfill that dirty girl fantasy, Brandt. I wanna do the one thing for you that you’ve never had the guts to ask any other woman.” She suckled the head of his cock while keeping her gaze firmly on his. “Tell me. Anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.” When Brandt squirmed, she knew this was stepping far outside his comfort zone.
Good.
“Tell me,” she repeated.
He reached down and traced her jawline, from the front of her temple down to the tip of her chin.
Then he swept the rough pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “I wanna come on your face. I wanna see my come coating your lips before you lick it off and swallow it all.”
Holy crap that was a hot request. Really hot. Especially coming from a cowboy gentleman such as Brandt McKay. She smiled and licked another pearl of pre-come from the slit in his dick.
“Okay.”
“Just like that? You’d say yes?”
“Yep. So where do you want me? On my knees between your legs, sitting on the floor? You’d probably have better aim if I was on the floor.”
Brandt looked stricken for half a second, then he laughed softly. “God. You’re killin’ me, woman.
Yes. On your knees on the floor.”
Jessie slithered down his body purposely letting her hair drift across his groin, his thighs and the tops of his feet, because she knew how ticklish he was.
“Playin’ with fire, Jessie.” Brandt sat up and pressed the creases of his knees into the edge of the bed.
Setting her hands on his thighs, she bowed her head over him, taking his cock into her mouth completely. Keeping her lips suctioned tight didn’t keep the saliva in her mouth. She used the wetness to move faster, letting it trickle out of her mouth and coat his shaft.
“Fuck, I love it when your mouth gets me so wet I can feel it dripping down my balls.”
The husky way he dirty talked made the inside of her thighs sticky. Jessie slid her hand down to fondle his sac. So tight. So ready.
Then the skin on his shaft seemed to tighten even more.
Brandt eased out of her mouth and she looked at him.
“Enough.” He fisted his cock in his hand and was beating off with more force that she’d dare try. He rasped, “Watch me.”
As if she could tear her gaze away from the eroticism of him masturbating.
“Put your hands on my thighs. Lean closer but arch your back. Yeah, like that. You’re so goddamn hot, Jess, I can’t believe you’re…” He groaned. “Close your eyes and part your lips.”
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The slapping sounds increased as did his moans and the first spurt landed on her cheek. The next on her chin. The next on her chest. Followed by warm drops hitting her upper lip. Several droplets slid down the center of her lip and dripped into her mouth. The salty tang made her want to swallow the full taste of him, but she stayed still.
The flesh slapping noises stopped and Brandt’s strenuous breathing filled the room. She could feel his eyes, drinking her in, as she kneeled before him, her body bearing the marks of his passion.
She felt his pleasure even when he didn’t utter a word.
Softly, he said, “Don’t move.”
The droplets had cooled. Brandt swept his thumb over the stickiness on her lips and said, “Lick it.”
She did.
Brandt swiped a wet spot on her jaw and pressed his thumb into her mouth. “Suck it.”
How different his come tasted on his hand instead of directly from the source.
He continued to wipe every drop of come from her chest, her neck, her face. She sucked and licked his fingers. His slow, deliberate means of drawing out the connection set her skin to tingling. Her focus dimmed to just fulfilling Brandt’s needs. There was incredible power in surrendering to this man because she knew he wouldn’t abuse it.
His lips grazed her ear, sending a shudder from her neck to her toes. “Sexy, nasty Jessie. Are you my dirty girl now?”
“Yes. God yes.”
“If I reach between your thighs will I find you wet?”
She could come just from him whispering in her ear. “Yes.”
“And just what should I do about that wetness?”
“Anything you want. Just touch me.”
“Look at me.”
Jessie opened her eyes.
Brandt’s cheeks were rosy. His eyes were brimming with lust and his cock was fully erect again. He took her hands in his with a forceful, “C’mere,” and he moved them into the center of the bed. Then he flipped them so Jessie was on her back. He eased into her bit by bit, watching her eyes with the possessive gleam that caused her stomach to somersault. The instant he began to stroke inside her, she brought her legs up and circled his waist.
This was what she wanted. Needed. Him. This closeness. This tight fit. This perfect friction. This bond she only got from being with him.
He joined their hands and slid them above their heads, bringing their bodies in full contact from chest to legs.
“I like that.”
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“Me too.” Brandt kissed her.
When he kissed her, everything fell into place. She brushed her lips over the spot below his ear that made him shudder. “I missed you,” she said softly.
“I can tell.” He stroked her hair. “I missed you too, Jess. A lot.”
And rather than taking an afternoon to prove how much he missed her, Brandt took the entire week.
Not every instance was sexual. He made her coffee. He shoveled out her truck after it snowed. He got up early and fed the animals so they could have a long shower together before starting their workday. All thoughtful things that showed Brandt really listened to her. He cared that she was happy. That was the sweetest feeling of all because she’d never had that before.
He made love to her every night before they went to sleep. Sometimes hard and urgent. Sometimes slowly and tenderly. Every night after he’d rocked her body and her world, he’d spooned behind her in her bed and held her all night long.
With every touch, every laugh, every new inside joke, Jessie knew this was moving out of the realm of a temporary situation, into something permanent.
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Chapter Nineteen
Jessie had forgotten how much she loved the holidays.
It wasn’t because Landon brought out her childish glee. The kid was still too young to understand what the hustle and bustle was about. But he loved the sparkly lights, the excitement in the air. The cookies.
Her little man was as much a cookie monster as her big man.
Her happiness stemmed from having someone like Brandt to share simple things with. They’d done no Christmas shopping. They hadn’t decorated much. They hadn’t attended a single holiday party.
The Sunday trip into the woods with Landon to chop down the perfect pine tree hadn’t started on a fun note. Lexie had taken off after a deer and knocked Landon over with enough force he’d rolled down a small hill and landed face first in a snowbank. With snow inside his jacket, snow down his pants and snow in his boots, he’d screamed bloody murder. Then Brandt fell into a shallow stream hidden beneath icy layers of snow, soaking both his boots and his pants up to his knees. When they’d gotten back to the truck, wet and miserable, Jessie realized she’d forgotten Landon’s bottle, but she’d remembered the thermos of coffee. Too bad she hadn’t remembered to screw the lid on tight because the coffee had spilled, creating a puddle on the passenger side floorboard of Brandt’s truck.
But after they’d returned to Jessie’s place, cleaned up and warmed up, the three of them snuggled on the couch to watch cartoon Christmas classics. They’d gorged themselves on sugar cookies, loaded with colored sprinkles, and warm, chocolatey milk. Then after Brandt tucked a sticky, sugary, exhausted Landon in bed, they’d curled up together on the couch, talking, laughing, making out like teenagers. Indulging in long, candy-flavored kisses, cold hands straying beneath wool sweaters, rubbing noses, creating static electricity from rubbing their fully clothed bodies together, drifting off in front of the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights.
It’d truly been one of the best days Jessie remembered.
“Jess?”
She glanced at Brandt. “Sorry. What?”
“Do we need peanut butter?”
“Yes. Jelly too. Here’s the list. I’m going to grab some tater tots.”
As they passed the junk food aisle, Landon said, “Cookie!”
Cowgirls Don’t Cry
“No way, lil’ buckaroo.”
“Yef!”
“Nope. You’ve eaten your weight in cookies this week. We’re all boarding the veggie train. Carrots.
Broccoli. Snow peas. Yum.”
She slowed in the frozen food section after passing two hundred kinds of frozen pizza. She’d just tossed a bag of tater tots and a bag of chicken nuggets into the cart when she heard, “Is that Landon?”
