Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (21 page)

By the time they reached his house, they were both panting heavily with the effort to gain control. To hold back.

He pulled his car into his garage so she could see all five of his cars and his motorcycle, parked two deep in the massive structure. The car she was borrowing was still parked at the apartment.

She raised a long brow but didn’t say anything.

Good girl
. The first step to acceptance. He was going to make her accept a hell of a lot more before he was through with her today. Like a three-carat diamond, a new refinishing studio for her projects in his outbuilding…and two fingers buried in her pussy right now.

Reaching across the seat, he did what he’d burned to do since watching her don clothes that morning—he twitched the hem of that distracting green dress up her round thighs.

As he skimmed her inner thigh with his fingertips, she dragged a gasp through her lungs. He eyed her in the thin light slanting through the back windows of the garage. “You wearing panties, baby?” He met with the moist silk between her legs and groaned in appreciation.

Scooping a finger under the elastic, he pulled it away from her body. She slouched in the seat, giving him better access, her head thrown back and breath coming fast.

“You want this?” He held her gaze as he pressed through her folds to her channel. In one swift thrust, he sank his finger to the knuckle. Her walls hugged his finger, sending heat up his arm.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re tight.”

“I want more. Need more.”

Withdrawing his finger to the tip, he added a second before driving them back in.

She rocked, sinking over his fingers so her mound rubbed the heel of his hand. Unable to stop himself, he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Brant. Please!” She reached across the console and wrapped her hand around his length through his jeans.

Enough.

With extreme regret, he slid his fingers out of her sheath and stuck them in his mouth as he climbed out of the car. Before he reached her door, she was on her feet. Without breaking stride, he gripped her upper arm and steered her toward the door leading to the house.

“I’m going to have you in the kitchen for lunch…on the desk, bent over my dresser upstairs…” He scraped his gaze over her ripe curves. Her arousal fogged around him, heady and intoxicating as wine.

In the kitchen, he kicked off his leather shoes and bent over to help her slip out of her sandals. Then without straightening, he poised a finger on top of her foot. Slowly, he ran it upward, over her fine ankle to her shin, knee, higher to her inner thigh. Dropping to his knees, he buried his face in her apex.

Inhaling deeply, he gathered her scents. Body wash and want. His favorite combination.

Through her panties, he mouthed her pussy, wetting the crotch around her clit. Under his tongue, the flesh swelled.

With a growl, he pinched the elastic sides and tore them down her hips. After she stepped out of the fabric, he moved in again. But she caught his head and held him away from her body.

“Not yet, Brant. I want to touch you too. I need to show you…” Her throat worked. “How I feel.”

Pressure built in his groin and in his heart. He gave a jerky nod and unfolded to his feet. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he picked her up and carried her through the sunlit rooms of his house. He’d promised the kitchen and desk, but he wanted her in bed.

When he reached the stairs, he swept her into his arms properly. She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders. He ached for her to score him, mark him as hers. Would she let him mark her too? Redden her ass or leave a suck mark?

His room was dark and cool, the central air humming in the vents. As he stretched Hayley on the plush bed, he nuzzled her throat. “You know you can change the décor of any room in this house, baby. I want them to be yours, so you feel at home.”

She stilled, hands convulsing on his spine. She didn’t speak for a long minute, and he lifted his head to look at her.

“I’m serious. I want you to move in with me. You and Drake. Now. We’re getting married as soon as I can arrange the church, a boot-scootin’ club for the reception, caterer and florist.”

“But—”

“And there’s this too.” He braced himself on one forearm and dug in his front pocket for the ring he’d been carrying for hours, hoping for the right time to spring it on her.

Holding the golden circlet between thumb and forefinger, he watched her features tremble. Her lower lip quivered, and her eyes swam.

“Oh, Brant…”

“Baby, I want you to be mine. I want to take care of you forever, give you all the things you deserve, including happiness and security for you and your son. This ring is only the beginning of my promise to love you.”

With that, he slipped the warm band onto her delicate finger, easing it to the knuckle. It hung a little loose—easily remedied.

She tipped her hand to stare at the diamond. “Holy! Brant, how big is this?”

“Not big enough to show my love for you, but I didn’t want to weigh your hand down.” A crooked smile carved an upward path. He brushed his lips across hers, once, twice. Small sparks flew. Soon to be an inferno.

She clamped her fingers around the ring, the tears spilling from her eyes. Then, locking her legs around his waist, she held on tight. “Again, yes. I can’t wait to show you how I feel about you every day of my life, to give my all.”

He tugged her lower lip with his teeth. “And you don’t mind that I might paddle you with a hairbrush or my palm?”

A shivery breath. “Nooo.”

“What if I tied your wrists and ankles and had my way with you?”

“Oh my God. Let’s start now.”

She began to peel off his clothes—shirt, jeans, boxers. He toed off his socks and abandoned the garments on the floor. Then he knelt over her, ready to un-wrap her like an exquisite package.

“Roll over.”

She jerked at his command. He narrowed his eyes until she did his bidding. She flipped onto her belly, and he straddled her thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Trapping you.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you’re going to do some squirming.” He grinned at her huff of breath.

In one swift flick, he whipped her hem up to the small of her back, revealing her lush buttocks. Each golden globe quivered with expectation and moisture glistened between her thighs.

He palmed each cheek, eager to feel the warmth of his smack in her skin. But he didn’t strike her. He massaged her in a circular motion, around and down to the under-curves, then running his thumbs up the seam of her ass. After a few times, she was arching, pressing backward when he reached her sensitive area.

The next pass he made, he parted her cheeks. She moaned, back dipping sharply. Before she could gain equilibrium, he brought the flat of his hand across her cheek. The crack echoed in the quiet space, along with her cry.

Leaning over her, he dragged his hair-roughened jaw over her spine, between her shoulder blades. “You like that, baby?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Want more?”

“Yes!”

He delivered five consecutive swats in the same spot so a rosy glow crept over her skin. Then he plastered his body over hers, reveling in the heat he’d created.

“Yes, Brant. Please get inside me.”

“Not yet.” He straightened and continued his torment, circling her globes and trailing a fingertip up her seam, delicately, over her pucker.

As he guessed, she started to wiggle. “Tell me what you want.”

She turned her face to the side, eyeing him from lowered lashes. “Your fingers, cock, lips. All of it.”

“You mean here?” He traced her pussy. “On this hot. Tight. Soaking. Needy pussy?”

“Fuck, yes!”

He blanketed her with his body again. “And here?” He probed the sensitive ridged circle of her anus.

She bucked in answer.

Sweat broke out all over him. In one yank, he stripped her dress over her head. Then he held her hair aside in his fist while plucking at the hooks of her bra. When he had her completely bare, he responded to her pleas for more.

In one swift movement, he plunged two fingers into her sex, probing deep, then shallow even as he sent one fingertip into her ass.

She accepted him easily, drawing up to her knees as invitation. And trust.

Out of his mind with need now, he fingered her pussy and ass until the first spasms reverberated through his hands. With a raucous cry, she came. Pussy clamping down. Ass pulsing wildly. Brant continued to drive her.

When she began to twitch with sensitivity, he backed off, slowing his hands, gentling her.

The final spasm washed through her body, and she lay as if dead.

Laughter rumbled through his chest. Her thigh flexed.

He pulled free of her body, licking off the fingers he’d had in her slash. In a violent move, she flipped. She drew her knees up and rolled away from him before he could think.

He stared at her, shock and worry rippling through him. Once before she’d jumped out of bed with him. Was this a repeat?

Then he saw the desire on her beautiful face. Desire and fucking determination.

“My turn, Brant Foxfire. On your back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He tipped an invisible cowboy hat and rolled onto the mattress, sprawled out with cock bobbing in the air.

She stood at the side, shaking slightly, hands clenched at her sides. She raked her gaze over him, from the arch of his foot to the top of his head. Then her gaze returned to his eyes. Flicked lower to his cock.

Before he knew what she was about, she prostrated herself atop him, mouth at the tip of his straining erection.

“F-f-fuck.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, pulling slightly to guide her where he wanted her. But she knew exactly what to do for him.

She worked her tongue over the swollen head, dipping into the depression and gathering his cream. Then swallowing him to the root. Goddamn, he could lie like this for hours. But not today. He wasn’t going to release in her mouth but spray her walls while she broke into pieces around him.

His balls tightened, throbbed.

She cooed around his length, eyes flashing. And he almost lost it.

Biting down, he wrenched her hair gently, drawing her away from him. She gave him a knowing smile and shimmied up his hips. She squashed her breasts to his chest and brought her wet pussy against his erection, grinding rhythmically.

“Damn, woman. Don’t tease me.”

She kissed him, sharing the musky flavor of his own body. Growling, he claimed her mouth with tongue and teeth. Too soon, she pulled away. With a grin, she shifted on her knees until she drew his cock into perfect alignment with her pussy.

Her juices coated him—a slippery path to heaven. In one jerk, she settled over his length.

They fell still, gazes locked in the embrace he knew they’d forever cherish. He made love to her in that look, searching her soul as she began to move.

Ribbons of need unfurled in his body, tying him up in neat little knots. She rose and fell on him, breasts bouncing gently. He cupped them and drew one to his lips. Lapping the puckered tip, he met her hips, sinking his cock so deep she groaned.

As if they’d spoken aloud, they began to roll together, his cock rubbing her innermost spot as he stared into the windows of her being—her eyes.

Her body tensed in his hold, and he knew she wasn’t far from release. He smoothed his fingers between them, pressing on her clit as she rocked away. When she fell again, his finger was trapped against her pulsing button—and she shattered.

The scorching heat of her orgasm and the look on her face sent him over the edge. Heat rushed up, pressure turned to bliss. And he started to spurt thick jets into her body.

She pinched her eyes shut, riding the furor of their shared release. Brant lashed her to him, raining kisses on her face and throat as the heat robbed him of thought. He only knew joy.

Hayley stared at the rectangle of bathroom light, which Brant had passed through. Every muscle in her thighs ached, as did several she didn’t know existed. Such as the tiny tendon on the back of her knee. What the hell had she done to make that hurt?

Then it came rushing back—in the late afternoon hours, Brant had set her atop his dresser as promised and splayed her legs over his shoulders while pounding into her body.

Apparently she’d overextended herself.

Running a hand through her mussed hair, she thought about all the happiness to be found in this bed. Her princess setting caught in her hair, and she freed her hand so she could gape at the ring he’d given her.

Everything seemed like a fairytale. Even the part about Drake taking the ball in the face had been easily fixed by Brant’s skilled hands and his generosity.

We’re his now
. The thought surfaced just as he strutted out of the bathroom. All seventy-two muscular inches of the man exuded sexiness. She sank her teeth into her lower lip, warding off the tears that had sparked, which were now replaced by want.