by Brill Harper
“Look, Dusty, if you’re just feeling sorry for me, then save it, okay? I don’t need it. It’s okay that you don’t care. I’m just a random lay that overstayed her welcome.”
“You’re a guest in my home. You didn’t overstay.”
She shrugs and it’s such a lonely action. I can see it. She’s given up on just about everyone. “I’ll let you know what happens with...well...if I get pregnant. But I don’t expect anything from you.”
The idea that she might at this very minute be carrying my child gives me a hard-on. An unwelcome one. I really am a shitty person.
“You’re more than a random lay. You know that.”
She raises her brow. “Seriously? You don’t have to make me feel good about myself. I wanted to have sex with you and I did. I don’t care if I was a random lay or not.”
“I care.” I palm her shoulders. “I care about you too much.”
“You are too much. I’m going back to the house now.”
“Do you think that it hasn’t been killing me to stay away from you? That I’m not already addicted to the way you taste and the sound of your laugh or the way you moan when I’m inside you?”
She pulls back like I slapped her.
Man up, cowboy.
“You’re right. I did run. It wasn’t because I don’t care. It’s because I care too much. I know I don’t have a future with you. I can’t give you what you need here.”
“What do you know about what I need?”
“You want to be an actress. You live in Hollywood. You probably like fancy cars and fashion and parties and I’ve got nothing to offer you.”
She huffs out a rueful laugh. “You think I’m a party girl?” She plops down on the grass, so I join her. “I got in a fight with my roommate. I’m pretty sure we’re being evicted because I wasn’t there to pay more than my share of the rent on our crappy little apartment.”
“Why do you have to pay more than your half?”
She sighs. “At first, I thought I was helping a friend, but Katie’s been leeching off me for a long time. She’s just using me.” She picks random blades of grass. “Sometimes I feel like everyone in LA only wants to use me up and throw me away.”
And she thought I was one of them. Because of the way I acted. “I know how you feel. It’s hard to find good people these days. That’s why I work so hard to make this place work. For my friends, my family. Sometimes everyone else seems out for themselves.”
“I think you care. About people.”
“I think you do too. Maybe too much, sounds like.”
“Maybe too much.”
We’re quiet for a few minutes, just listening to the breeze whistle through the windbreak and a cow lowing in the pasture. “Do you think you’d give me a second chance? To be a better friend to you than I was.”
She gazes into my eyes like she’s trying to read me. “If you tell me why you ran so fast.”
I pull my hat off my head. “You don’t ask for much, do you? Just filet myself open for you?”
“If you don’t want to tell—”
“I thought I was in love once.”
That shuts her up.
“Her name was Farrah. She went to high school with Carter and me. She was a troubled girl, always. And so damned restless. Wanted to be a model. Wanted the good life, she always said. She kept moving away to the city and coming back, each time a little skinnier, as little more rough around her edges. I tried to give her a good home base. Not pen her in. That was before I bought this place. I had a small house in Buffalo.” Ruby covers my big paw with her dainty hand. Support. Reassurance. It sure feels nice. “The last time she left, she was gone a month when she called me one day out of the blue crying. Said she was pregnant. That it was mine.”
“Oh, Dusty.” I’m sure Ruby is drawing conclusions to why I freaked out about the condom.
“Farrah was distraught. She wanted to party, not be a mom. But I told her we’d figure it out. That I’d take care of her and the baby.” My gut clenches over what was never meant to be. “I went to pick her up, but she had overdosed. She didn’t make it.”
“The baby?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t love her anymore by then. I kept taking her back out of habit. But that baby. I coulda loved that baby.”
Ruby crawls onto my lap and holds my face in her hands. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. I know you probably blame yourself, but it’s not your fault. Some people can’t live in this world right. They’re too fragile inside or something.”
There’s something so earnest and pure about the way she’s touching me. I didn’t know I needed tenderness. I didn’t know I needed someone to tell me it’s okay that I couldn’t save Farrah.
I didn’t know I needed to need someone. But I do. I grasp one of her hands and kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’m supposed to be consoling you, I thought.”
She smiles and my heart flies up in my throat.
When I kiss her, it’s like our first kiss should have been. It’s sweet and gentle.
It’s just what I need.
Chapter Eight
Ruby
IT SEEMS TO TAKE FOREVER for everyone to clear out of the main house and leave Dusty and me alone. But I’m nervous, so as much as I want them to go, I’m anxious and too restless.
I don’t know what happens next. I feel like everything is too precious. I don’t want to ruin it. But it feels like it’s been so long since we made love. It hasn’t, but so much has changed between us.
I’m too scared to put a label on it. But it’s lovely and sweet.
He gets this “aw shucks” look on his face when he locks the front door behind the last of his crew. I think he’s even blushing a little.
“So,” he says.
“So,” I repeat.
“I feel like I’m sixteen again. Not real sure what happens next.”
I smile at his confession. “I have some ideas.”
“Do you?”
“Want to hear them?”
“More than anything.”
Crooking my finger at him seems to do the trick, and he crosses the room to where I am. I put his hands on my waist, and I loop my arms around his neck like we’re at a middle school dance. It’s both a little awkward and bittersweet. Like starting over before I knew what was before me. “Kiss me, Dusty. Like you did today. I want to feel that way again. Like the world is new again.”
He starts at the tip of my nose of all places. Then he dots gentle kisses on my eyelids, my temples, my cheeks. When he finally, finally gets to my lips, he doesn’t go for the hard slide. No, he’s sweet and gentle. Soft glides, little nibbles. I sigh and part my lips to the gentle press of his tongue.
He steps back and turns me in the circle of his arms. I close my eyes, feeling the heat of his body behind me, the power of his grasp on me. "Ruby," he whispers in my ear. “What you do to me.” His breath is warm against my neck, his body pressed up against mine so firmly. "Mmm," he purrs as his lips kiss my neck.
I push back against him, my soft curves meeting his hard, muscled body. He splays a hand against my abdomen and nibbles on my neck, the rasp of his day-old stubble stirring a wicked moan from me. He rubs circles on my stomach and a shiver wracks his body. Is he wondering if we made a baby yesterday? Does that make him hot?
A groan, more of a growl, rips from his throat, and he whips me around to face him.
"I need you." His mouth is on mine before I can respond, his arms pulling me tightly to his body. My arms slide up his chest, settling for a moment on his beating heart, then back around his neck to grasp him as firmly to me as he holds me.
I kiss him hungrily, my tongue twining with his. I clench the fabric of his shirt and my nails dig into the steel muscles beneath. He thrusts his body against mine, the hardness of his cock grinding into me.
I need to feel him. All of him.
My hands tremble at the buttons of his shirt until I can slide them across his skin, pushing the shirt off his sho
ulders. I rub my cheek against his chest hair and then test one of the flat disks against my tongue.
He grunts and clutches my head to him, so I suck that nipple into my mouth, reveling in the full-body shiver I induce. “Fuck, that’s good.”
I switch to the other side, my fingers tracing patterns over all his glorious skin. He’s made to be savored.
Too soon, he pulls me off him. “I want to see you.”
I want him to see me too.
I want to wow him. Own him. Tease him. Be owned by him, too.
I slowly, deliberately pulled the zipper down my dress. I turn, revealing my back and the exposed line of the red lace bra that I finally get to wear, knowing I put on that lingerie just for him. I can hear his heavy breaths as I push the dress down, revealing the red thong and my ass slowly, inch by inch. As the hem of the dress hits my ankles and pools around my feet, I coyly look over my shoulder to see him staring at me with his pants undone and that magnificent, heavy cock in his hand.
Oh wow. I’m stunned stupid by the sight.
“Them are some real pretty underthings you have on there, Miss Ruby.”
I bite my lip and stare at his cock. “I hoped you’d like them, cowboy.”
“Oh, I like them all right.”
I’m practically panting when I reach around to unclasp my bra, but I hold it to my chest, still watching him stroke his hard cock. I turn further, showing him a bit more of those tits he loves so much, but just what isn’t covered. I feel wanton and achy, and so very wet.
"Stay," he commands forcefully. "Right there."
His pants hit the floor and he steps out of them before striding across the room and scooping me up, my hands still holding my bra to my chest. He carries me to his bedroom and sets me down before sitting on the bed in front of me.
“Show me.”
I let my hands go and my breasts spring free, warming under his gaze.
“You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, Ruby.”
I certainly feel sexy. Even though there’s so much to learn about sex, I feel like a woman who knows secrets now. He reaches for me, but I lower to my knees and take in his surprised look.
My hands run over the top of his thighs, tantalizingly near his heavy balls. His breath hitches, but I glide my hands back down to his knees, pushing his legs apart as I go.
I settle myself comfortably between his knees and encourage his hips forward on the bed so that everything is within easy reach for me. Like a buffet of hot man.
I coo at him appreciatively, touching his granite shaft gently, enjoying the resulting twitch. “You’re all mine now, cowboy." I cradle his large, heavy balls, weighing them in my hand, rolling them gently in my fingers before shifting my hands to the tops of his thighs again, and further up to his stomach, stroking through the whorls of dark hair there.
“Is this what you meant the other day when you wanted me to worship your cock?” I lean forward and lick him from root to tip, slowly, with the flat of my tongue. “Me on my knees. Tasting you. Needing you. Is this what you wanted?”
"Christ." It’s a whispered groan, and he closes his eyes.
“That’s what you meant though, right? Me, entranced with your cock. So far gone that I don’t want to be anywhere but on my knees bringing it pleasure. So far gone that it is my whole world. My reason for taking my next breath. Is that what you want, Dusty?”
I slide my hands slowly back down to his legs, leaving my tongue in light contact with the tip of his cock as I do. "I'm going to enjoy this very much." I move away and place licks and kisses at the crease of his hip. I feel a little drunk, his earthy scent surrounding me. "God, you smell so good." I rub my cheek against his dick and am rewarded with another quiet groan.
I wrap both hands around his cock. "You're so thick. I love the way you stretch me when we fuck. I love your cock, Dusty. It’s powerful, strong. Like you."
“Ruby, angel...”
My tongue flicks lightly over the tip of his cock and then swirls in widening circles. I use my tongue to trace down the underside of his shaft, turning my head sideways to lick and kiss the tender spot just where his cock meets his balls, lavishing him with attention. Showing him how important he is. I want to be his greatest fantasy.
I don’t mind worshiping his cock. Not at all. It’s about more than sex, even I know that. He needs it. He needs to know he’s adored and honored. Accepted.
I’ll be sad to go, but I’ll always, always relish this connection we have.
Finally licking and kissing my way back up his dick, I grip him firmly near the base and work over the tip of his cock repeatedly, tasting the salty precum. I’m going on pure instinct. To pleasure him is to be pleasured.
My thong is soaked. I’m so turned on.
I look up to his face to find he is watching me with half-lidded eyes. I did that to him. Me. Smiling, keeping eye contact, I take him into my mouth until my lips meet my hand.
And I repeat. Over and over.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He’s panting, groaning, moaning, and moving his hips as I increase the speed and pressure of my stroking.
All I want is his pleasure. It’s my quest. To take as much of him into me as I can. To make him frenzied and out of control.
“You’re going to make me come.”
“Mmmm,” is my answer, the vibrations on his dick causing him to gasp.
“Ruby, angel. Oh, fuck. You’re a dirty angel, aren’t you?” His voice is tight and strained. “You were made to suck my cock, weren’t you?”
“Mmmm,” I answer.
“You want to be my dirty, dirty girl? I’m going to come, Ruby. I’m going to come a lot. If you don’t...fuck, fuck, fuck...I’m going to fill your mouth up if you don’t...”
He pushes his hips up toward my mouth, thrusting frantically as his climax crashes over him and he roars. And I take it, the spurts coating my mouth and throat while he twitches. Time stops as he pulses in my mouth. It’s salty and strange, but I like it.
I pull off and ease away as he flops onto his back. Completely spent.
“My God, woman. That was amazing.”
My heart fills with pride. I know I’m a bit ridiculous, but I don’t even care.
“C’mere,” he commands, and I climb up onto the bed, resting my head on his chest.
“Nobody has ever made me feel like that before.”
“I’m glad.”
“When I get my strength back...”
“Oh, I know, cowboy. I’ll be right here waiting.”
We lay in silence, the setting sun shining shadows against the wall until it’s almost completely dark except for the light from the living room. A few minutes later, I notice he’s already hard. “Dusty?”
“I was just doing a mental replay.” I chuckle, and he kisses the top of my head. “I feel so free with you, Ruby. Like I can say anything. Like you don’t judge me.”
“You can.”
“I feel like I should tell you that sex isn’t always like this. It can be great, but what we do, well, I’ve never felt anything like it before.” I don’t know what to say. I don’t have experience, but I don’t doubt him. I never in my wildest fantasies imagined sex would feel like this. “I like that I can say things to you, in bed, and be totally free and you know I still respect you.”
I trace my hands through his chest hair. “I like that I can be a bad girl with you, but you don’t shame me.” His arms tighten around me. “It’s like, I know you respect me, but we can just get down and dirty and it’s safe.”
“I really like being with you, angel.”
“I like being with you too. I wish we had more time.”
“I reckon we need to make the most of the time we have then.” He rolls us over and covers me with all that strength. “Now I’m gonna eat that pretty little pussy of yours until you forget your name.”
Dusty
SHE’S LEAVING TOMORROW.
I can’t deal with it, so I try to put it in the back of my mind.
I know from experience that you can’t make someone want the same things you do. Hell, every time we have sex, I consider ripping off the condom, filling her up with my cum so I can put a baby in her and forcing her to stay. But I know that isn’t how life works. She would wither and die here on the ranch if I took away her choices and bottled up her dreams.
And I can’t say I’d do any better if I moved to Hollywood.
We’re just too different.
But I fantasize that she’s already pregnant. Every time I put my hand on her stomach, I’m hoping my child is in there. I’d love to watch her belly grow. I’d love to take care of her, protect her, keep her away from all those folks who want to use her up and throw her away. But Farrah taught me that you have to let people be free, even if it kills you inside.
And eventually kills them.
“What’s got you in such a perky mood?” Carter asks as we muck out the stalls.
Hell, do I need to spill my guts to him? Are we living in some chick flick? I know women like to talk about feelings and such, but I can’t see as how it can do any good. My experience, though, tells me that most women are smarter about things like that than we are.
Maybe it would be good to talk it out. I may as well give it a chance since I’m not exactly handling it very well on my own.
“Ruby leaves tomorrow.”
“You catch feelings for her?”
“Yep.”
“Sucks.”
“Yep.”
We go back to our chores. Is that it? That wasn’t so bad. I feel like a real live Renaissance man. Next I’ll be eating quiche.
Carter stops for water. “I knew about Marissa by our second date.”
“Knew what about Marissa?”
He swallows some more. “That I was going to marry her.”
I pause. “Did you tell her that?”