Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (16 page)

He gave a wave. “Enjoy yourself with Dr. Foxfire, Mom.”

A grin split her face and she bit down on it, struggling against a joyous laugh. She backed up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah. ’Night.”

She carefully locked the apartment door behind her and rushed out to her truck. With her luck, the engine wouldn’t start. Or she’d have a flat tire.

But neither of these tragedies happened, and in seconds, she was on the road. As she drove, scenarios popped into her mind. Brant greeting her with his trademark heart-stopping grin and open arms. Or showing up to find he was already with another woman.

Put it out of your head. He’s not like that
.

Her nipples prickled with sensation against the cloth of her dress, and her thighs were damp with desire. Within minutes, she’d have what she’d longed for all day—to step into the arms of the man she cared about and let him wash away her worries.

Chapter Twelve

Brant jerked upright from his slouch on the sofa. What the—? He stared at the TV screen, battling for his wits. He’d fallen asleep to a baseball game on the sports channel. The commentators were still hashing out the end of the game. So where had that ringing sound come from?

He slapped a hand to his jeans pocket, where his cell lived. Then it sounded again—the musical gong of his doorbell.

Jumping to his feet, he staggered to the door, sleep drunk and groggy as hell. Who could be visiting at this hour? Unless…

He whipped the door open. The breath whooshed from him. There stood Hayley, all five-foot-four inches of her curvaceous, windblown self. Her hair straggled from her braid and a piece kissed her mouth directly at the corner.

Brant’s balls clenched up tight to his body. His heart flipped over and raced out of control, galvanizing him into action. If he didn’t move, she was liable to turn around and leave, thinking he wasn’t happy to see her.

He closed his hands around her waist, yanked her off her feet and spun her into the house in one smooth motion. He kicked the door shut behind her, fumbling to twist the deadbolt.

She gave a shivery laugh. “Is that to keep me in?”

“Fuck, yeah. God, Hayley, I wanted you all day.” He cradled her beautiful face and kissed her with all the tenderness and love he’d longed to express today.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and tugged, drawing him down as she angled her mouth to receive him better.

Soft threads of her hair clung to the stubble on his jaw, uniting them in a fragile bond. Or was it fragile? She was here.

A sound broke from him, part feral animal, part pained warmth. Every ounce of emotion he’d ever felt for this woman jumped to the fore, and suddenly the words were on his lips, ready to be spewed. In his head, he already chanted them.
I love you, love you. Love you, Hayley. Be my wife
.

But feeding them through their kiss wasn’t a good idea. She’d surely pull away, storm out that door and never let him see her again.

Instead, he showed her with his body by lifting her into his arms. She automatically wrapped her thighs around him, her drenched pussy riding his hard cock through the barrier of his lounge pants as he swung toward the staircase.

“I want you, Brant.”

Was that the same as
I love you, Brant
? Right now, he didn’t care. He had to get inside her.

They tumbled into bed in a tangle of limbs and teeth. She bit his lower lip, arousing him to a state of such desperation, he thought he’d come there and then. Or lose control.

No, not that
.

Precome oozed from the tip of his cock, slicking his boxers to his skin.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t hold back for very long—”

She fisted his cock through his clothes. “Don’t. I want you inside me. Make me feel beautiful and out of control like you always do.”

In the back of his mind, it registered that she wanted to be driven out of her mind. Then all thought fled as she rolled his shaft through her clever fingers. She reached into his waistband and pulled him free as he clawed off her dress. In a hot rush, they came together, naked and ready.

“I’m so turned on that you didn’t wear any panties.” He reared his hips back, cock at her entrance, prepared to bury himself to the hilt. But he’d forgotten something—that damn hated condom.

She seemed to understand his hesitation and tightened her legs around him. Her green eyes were hazed over with passion. “Don’t worry about it, Brant. Just be with me. Please.”

“I’m clean, baby. Checked since my last relationship.”

She sank her teeth into his lip and dragged him down. “Me too. Now make me fly the way only you can.”

“I’ll hold you while you shatter, baby. Now.” With that, he thrust deep. Falling completely still, he shook against the urge to rut on her like a wild beast. But Christ, she was all soft, pliant woman and her pussy so tight. Wet. Needy.

Pulling back, he then plunged in again, deeper than before. She cried out, tossing her head, breasts heaving. He sucked one rosy tip into his mouth, scraping his teeth gently. When he lifted her hips so his pubic bone rubbed on her hard pearl, she started to come.

Not just come, but burst. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she contracted madly around him. Another thrust and it was over for him. But oh, to fill her with his come while she was still pulsating with orgasm…

With a roar, he followed. Jet after jet of hot juices bathed her insides. Mixed with hers. Before he was able to draw breath, she pushed on his chest. Looking into her eyes, he realized she wanted him to roll them.

Capturing her pink lips, he did as she wanted, body pulsing as he began to come down from his high. She ground her body into his so the tip of his erection stroked her innermost spot.

His innermost spot, deep in his heart. She belonged to him, every damn inch of her.

He gazed up at her, palming her breasts as she marked a rhythm of her own. Without a doubt, love was written all over his face. He couldn’t have wiped it off if he wanted—it would be like wiping it off his soul.

Pinching her nipples slow but hard, he watched a flush steal over her. “Tell me why you came to me tonight and not before, Hayley.”

She gave a full-body shudder, which included gripping his cock until he nearly roared with satisfaction. But he slammed down his physical response and focused on coaxing the words from her.

Tonight I’ll get those words
.

Eyes hooded, she shifted, riding him to complete attention within seconds of his release. When she fluttered her fingers down his jaw to his bare chest, his heart sang. No one looked at another person this way and didn’t feel something more than physical satisfaction.

“Why did you come tonight?” he asked again. He was tempted to give her a one-word command—now. Now, she needed to take all of him inside her and accept the inevitable.

She arched her back, sliding upward on his cock. “I wanted to be with you all day…”

“And that means something, baby. We’re both crazy about each other. Just let it happen, sweetheart. Since the beginning, you’ve fought it. Now you’re giving in to your body’s cravings. Admit what’s going on in your heart too.”

She twitched as he chafed his hands down her arms to her wrists, squeezing her flesh lightly and locking her to the bed. He felt the beginnings of her tension at his restraint, so released her.

When she didn’t respond, he slipped the pad of his thumb over her slick clit. Bucking, she released a cry.

“Tell me I’m important.”

“Yess, so important.” She hovered over him, breasts skimming his chest. He ached to touch them but refrained.

“And you want to make this work.”

“More…more than anything.” She hissed when he circled her clit once, twice.

“Tell me what else you want.”

“I want to…come.”

“Like this, baby?” He pushed back the hood covering her core and pressed a fingertip to the bundle of nerves that would send her over the edge.

“Yes! Fuck, please!”

“You want me to make you come all over my fingers while my cock’s inside you?”

“Uh-huhhh.”

“But you can’t. I say when you come.” He paused his thumb on her clit. When her eyes rolled up in her head and she moaned, the deep dark part of himself came alive. He watched the emotions play over her face. Could she want this part of him? How far could he push her?

Pressing back the hood covering her bundle of nerves, he strummed her button.

A cry left her, the raw sound giving him more than he’d ever expected. This was how it should be for him—what he needed.

“Can I come, Brant? Please, let me.”

The blow of her words dizzied him. “Do it, sweetheart. Come for me. But don’t only give your release to me. Look into my eyes while you come apart and accept how you feel about me.” He pushed her relentlessly, fingering her clit, then backing off when he felt her inner walls clench around him.

A flush stole over her, and she sank her imperfect teeth into her lower lip. The sight of that plump flesh bulging around a square, white tooth nearly sent him over the edge.

Grinding his molars, he scrambled for precious control. And then she opened her eyes, stared right at him—into him—and came apart. His name was a hot cry on her lips, but she didn’t close her eyes as she rocked with the waves of her release.

Juices flooded his shaft and coated his fingers. He felt every shock to the marrow of his bones. Unable to hold back another minute, he began to move, jerking his hips in time to her movements, staring into her eyes as they soared together.

Hayley’s throat closed off as she did the math in her checkbook for the fourth time. No matter what way she added the column—top to bottom or bottom to top—it added up the same.

She was short again this month. No way to pay the rest of the previous month’s rent and not even enough to pay this month’s. Fuck, the more she tried, the more the snowball gathered speed and diameter. Soon, it would bowl her under and she’d be lost, floundering in the frigid hell of homelessness with a teenage son.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She’d have to take that waitressing job in the next town on weekends to make enough income to live. Drake would have to understand if she missed his games or practices. And Brant would have to understand too.

In the past few weeks, things had been storybook perfect with Brant. They’d shared several more nights together when Drake could go to a friend’s, as well as countless dates. He’d picked her up in two more different vehicles, but she didn’t ask about them. She saw that the man’s worth was bigger than his assets and financial portfolio.

Still, she owed him money, even if he didn’t know it. Before long, Steve would be by to collect on the rent—this month’s and last—and then she’d be fucked. Given notice.

She swung her gaze around the humble living area, cursing Kent to the quick of his toenails. She could take him back to court to prove he was working for cash under the table, but that would mean legal fees—more money she didn’t have.

And just yesterday Drake had informed her that his cleats were too small, cramping his toes.

Her gaze landed on one of the only things in the apartment that had value—her vintage Coca-Cola collection. From unusual bottles to a rare ice chest, each piece had been hand-collected at flea markets and yard sales, acquired over a lifetime. At the age of four, her father had given her the first item in that collection—a tin tray from the 1940’s.

As a child, she’d pretended that the smiling girl on the tray was a good friend, telling her secrets. In her teens, she’d used the tray to hold makeup and important pieces of jewelry. When Drake was born, it became a diapering unit, complete with butt paste and wipes.

But there was more to the tray than the sentimental value—the thing was worth a lot of money. Many times, Andrea had asked to buy it from her.

Maybe it was time to part with the whole collection. After all, what good did it do her if she had to display it in a cardboard box in an alley, where she and Drake would soon live?

With a hitching sigh, she found a box stowed in a closet and began to pack up the whole collection. After two trips to the car, she was truly in tears. Part of her was devastated at letting go of her father’s gift, since she didn’t have the man himself any longer. And part of her thought about asking Brant for help.

He probably made enough in an hour to cover her rent. She would pay that much in braces, but hadn’t received a single bill since Drake walked into Brant’s office. Next visit, she’d talk to the secretary and make certain the bills weren’t going missing.

“Okay. I can do this.” She hauled the entire collection to Anecdote. Earlier that day, she’d finished up her staining projects, and they needed to dry before she could begin to sand them. But Andrea would still be there, holding down the fort during the tourist season.

Right now, Reedy was infiltrated by people coming to see the mountains and get a taste of small-town charm. The Coca-Cola collection would sell quickly.

Cash in hand. That’s what Hayley needed.