"Shh. It's okay."
His arm cradled her neck while his mouth cruised over her cheeks, down her throat. His hand skimmed her whole body, stroking, caressing more gently than she would have ever expected from a man of his size and strength. The more he explored, the more swollen and heavy her breasts felt inside her bra. All of her clothing began to feel binding. Even her skin felt too tight and too hot. She began to squirm and clutch at his shirt, trying to unbutton it. "Brady, can we...?"
He started to sit up, but she couldn't bear to have him part from her, even for a few seconds. "Don't—don't go…."
"Just gonna turn on the light, darlin’."
"Do—do we have to?"
"You've never had the light on?"
"No. I mean, well, yes, but...I don't know what I mean."
"You're beautiful,” he said. “I want to see you. It'll be okay."
"Okay," she said, her voice coming out tiny.
He sat up and she followed him, hooking her arms around his thick biceps and pressing her breasts against it, laying her cheek against his shoulder. With his other hand, he reached over and switched on the stubby round lamp on the bedside table. Light not much brighter than a flashlight's cast a golden fan on the floor and on the edge of the bed. He opened the bedside table drawer, his capable hands spotlighted by the lamplight. He lifted out the black box of condoms she had left in the drawer earlier, opened it and spilled the contents onto the table.
An image of the woman named Ginger flitted through Jude’s mind along with the certain knowledge that she and maybe others had slept with him in this very bed, but she refused to let a visual form. She wanted this and nothing else mattered.
His fingers came to her chin and he smiled. "See? It’s a dim light. You don’t have to be nervous."
He kissed her sweetly, then reached for her foot and pried off her boot. His big hand closed around her foot in a caress as he looked at her across his shoulder for a few beats. Now she was glad he had turned on the light, even as a nerve jumped inside her stomach. She wanted to see him, too.
He tugged off her other boot, followed by her socks, and ran his fingers along the bottom of her foot.
Then his arms came around her and he held her for a long moment. He was good at hugging. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him back, basking in knowing he desired her. She sought his mouth with hers, their lips met and they kissed and kissed and his hands moved over her body until an audible soughing sound had replaced normal breathing and her very bones felt like warm liquid.
Eventually, they parted and he tugged at the hem of her top. "Help me take this off," he said. "I don't want to tear it."
With no hesitation, she yanked the knit top over her head. Her nipples tightened even more as the room's cool air touched her bare skin, yet her breasts throbbed with heat.
He ducked his head and his mouth moved over the mound of flesh above the edge of her bra. "I do love black lace," he mumbled against her skin, "but right this minute, it's in the way."
He delicately tugged the lacy edge down and exposed her nipple. The naughty little nub was embarrassingly rigid and protruded over the edge of the lace. He plucked at it with his fingers and thumb and to her amazement, it grew impossibly long and she felt something going on deep inside her sex.
On a deep hum, he kissed and licked, drew the firm peak deeply into the wet heat of his mouth.
"Oooh," she breathed, closing her eyes as deep muscles she didn't know she had began to clench up inside her. She recognized pure pleasure She curved her hands around his head and held him in place.. He sucked rhythmically. The sensation was consuming and she wanted more.
His hand went behind her and she felt her bra release. In the far recesses of her clouded mind, a voice told her he was awfully practiced at this to be able to undo it one-handed.
"Don't ever think I don't want you," he said.
She thrilled at the words. "I won't. No. I won't."
Her bra went away and his large hand cupped her breast, plumped it and molded it while his mouth moved over it, his beard stubble rasping the tender skin. While he teased the one breast with his tongue, his fingers stroked and pulled at the nipple of the other. On a deep sigh, she tilted her head back and pushed her chest forward, making it easy for him to do whatever he wanted. That deep flex in her belly became an exquisite need. She had never felt such emptiness. "Brady, I feel funny. Inside. Should…should I do something?"
"Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
"I don't know....Just something."
He chuckled softly against her breasts."Yes, ma'am. Maybe I can manage that."
His arm slid behind her and he eased her back on the bed, murmuring soft words made incoherent by the roar of the air conditioner. His hot mouth closed over her other nipple, and he drew hard, his breath humid and warm. Save for the incredible desire for more of the same, every thought fled and she moaned softly so he would know how much he pleased her.
His hand slid down and she felt him undo her belt and tug at her zipper. The next thing she knew, he was working her jeans down past her hips. When they would go no farther, he lifted his mouth from hers. "Lift up, sweetheart."
She dug her heels into the mattress and raised her hips. He easily stripped off her jeans and panties. And just like that, she was naked on his bed and his eyes and hands were roaming and stroking as if she belonged to him, and he was telling her she was soft as a kitten and beautiful, and heat was surging in every part of her body.
His hand slid inside her panties. His mouth was at her ear and he was whispering reassurances and wicked promises.
She felt so swollen, so hot and damp. Drenched, even. Still, drunk with driving need, she opened her knees and he cupped her sex. His finger found her opening and slipped inside. Her muscles clenched around his finger. "Oh, Brady,” she said weakly. “I feel so—so…"
"Being wet is a good thing, darlin’. This wouldn’t work if you weren’t."
He sat up again and tugged off his own boots, yanked off his socks. Shamelessly sprawled, she propped herself on her elbows and watched as he stood and pulled his shirt from his waistband and began to unbutton it, revealing a strip of his chest an inch at a time. He unbuttoned the cuffs, peeled the garment off and tossed it away, his muscles rippling and bunching under his skin. She took in the full measure of his wide chest, lightly dusted with hair that trailed all the way to his belt buckle. She had a mental picture of where it ended....But in the poster, he'd had no body hair. Had he shaved it off?
He unbuckled his belt and shucked his jeans and shorts, his eyes never leaving her. His erection sprang free, only inches from her face. He was beautifully made from head to toe, and perfect. And he was so large. Something dark spiked within her. She wanted to please him in the way her first fiancé had taught her. She eased off the edge of the mattress onto her knees, leaned forward and pressed her face against his groin. He went perfectly still. "Jude, don't..."
She ignored him and clutched his taut buttocks, breathed in his musky scent, pressed kisses against the crisp nest surrounding his erection. His jutting penis twitched as her cheek touched it, and she moved her mouth along the hot, velvety flesh until she reached the plump tip. She molded her mouth over it, hummed with satisfaction at the soft grunt that came from him. She licked away salty moisture, slid her mouth the length of him, until she could feel the thick tip of him against the back of her throat, then she drew back slowly and circled the rim with her tongue.
"Oh, Jesus," he ground out, grasping her shoulders and pushing himself away from her. "Jude, I'll come."
He pulled her up and jerked back the covers on the bed. "Get in," he said roughly, and she crawled between the sheets. In an instant he was hovering over her, bracketing her with his arms and kneeing her thighs apart. He looked down at her with fiery eyes and a hard mouth. "Where'd you learn that?" he said roughly, and kissed her fiercely.
His mouth moved over her breasts, her torso, down her body. His tongu
e sank into her navel. She shuddered and arched her back, lifted her belly to him. He nipped at her flesh, pressed hot suckling kisses to the hollows beneath her hip bones, cruised to where her thighs joined her trunk, and all the while his whispery words, thick and broken, played with her mind....“climb up inside you...never come out.. come 'til you scream...”
All of that was what she thought she wanted. Now her heart was hammering. No man had ever spoken such words to her.
He clasped her knees with his palms and pushed her thighs wide, ducked his head and nuzzled her pubic hair, inhaled deeply. Panic and embarrassment suffused her in equal measure. She pushed against his head. "Brady, don't..."
"Don't what?" His mouth moved over the insides of her thighs.
"Brady, I've never..." She felt his breath warm against her most intimate place. "No one's ever..."
"Close your eyes and relax," he said huskily. Then his mouth was there, where no man's mouth had ever been, and she was shaking all over and floating in a haze of anticipation.
She forced herself up, braced on her elbows, fisted her hand in his hair, intending to stop him, but the sight of his head between her legs aroused her in a way she had never been before. When his tongue swept the length of her cleft, all she could do was whimper, fall back on the mattress and let her knees fall wider.
His hands slid under her bottom and he lifted her to his mouth. His tongue slipped into the top of her sex and exquisite pleasure shot through her. With a gasp she braced on one hand and gripped a fistful of his hair, watched his head move as he licked into her again and again. Rational thought left her mind. The flex inside her turned to driving need. Nothing mattered but his agile tongue's point of contact. Her breath turned to quick pants, out of her control. “Oh... oh...oh...”
He stopped abruptly, leaving her bereft and desperate. Something was happening."Don't stop," she cried. “Please don't stop." His wet mouth moved up her body and took her mouth again in a savage kiss. Her hips hitched against him. "Please don't stop," she begged again. She sucked on his tongue, licked her own taste from his lips.
He pulled away from her.
"Just a minute, sweetheart." He grabbed a condom off the bedside table, tore it open and quickly rolled it on with trembling hands.
Then he was back, between her thighs, his body hovering above hers, and the wide tip of him was there, nudging into where she felt so hot and empty. "I want to be inside you when you come," he said raggedly.
"Hurry," she said, lifting herself, her thighs shamelessly open. She ran her hands over his muscled back, clutched at his firm buttocks. He pushed into her in one stroke. Instantly, her world fell apart. The sweetest agony began washed through her. Her hungry flesh pulled against his hardness. Her hips lifted to him and she gave a tiny sob. His mouth locked onto hers as tars passed behind her eyes as spasms of pleasure gripped her.
Even before it was over, he began to move inside her in a steady rhythm. He felt so big so hot, but she kept up, wanting more. She had never felt like this. That exquisite climb began again.
He held himself still. She opened her eyes and saw his face, his expression strained and harsh. "Put your legs around me, sweetheart."
She instantly did as he said, taking him until it felt as if he were buried all the way to her heart. "Oh. Oh, Brady..."
"Okay?"
"Yes." She lifted her head, smiled and kissed him. “It’s perfect.”
He smiled, too. "Stay with me now," he muttered gruffly.
He began to rock in a slow, ceaseless rhythm. Then, faster. Melting friction. Deep thrusts. Delightful torment. She lost track of time and thought. Those needy deep muscles grabbed at his penis again and again and he groaned his pleasure.
Somehow, through the haze that had taken her over, she felt him strain, heard him grunt. Instinctively, she dug her fingers into his buttocks and anchored him to her. He pounded hard up into her, once, twice, until a bark burst from his chest and he collapsed on top of her.
He was shaking and sweating, and she could feel his heart pounding. She was no better off herself. When she found the strength to speak, she whispered, "Oh, my gosh. Are we okay?"
He heaved a great breath and chuckled against her neck. "I don't know yet."
They clung to each other. “Oh, my gosh, Brady,” she said in a tiny voice. “Is it supposed to be like that?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s supposed to be exactly like that.”
He started kissing her face and neck and murmuring words of sweetness to her. He stayed inside her for a long time. She didn't move, not wanting him to leave her. Finally, he shifted to her side, but his heavy arm remained draped across her body.
As soon as he recovered, Brady left her and padded to the bathroom. He was shaken in an unexpected way. As he disposed of the rubber and washed himself in the vanity sink, he thought about the conflicting mix that was Jude Strayhorn. She was as close to being a virgin as he ever expected to know. She might have had sex before, but she was naïve. Yet, at the same time, smart, hot as a pistol and sexy. She was beautiful and rich, but down-to-earth and funny and fun. Every man's dream. And she didn't even know it.
He had sensed that primitive passion in her when she confronted him in his aunt's driveway and tonight he had let it lure him past reason. When she had shown him she had a hunger that matched his, the loss of control had begun to creep in. Then when Ace had blatantly shown an interest in her, even put his hand on her, Brady had lost his damn mind. He had wanted to clock Ace Earl, a man he had known for thirty years and considered a friend, just for touching her.
Could he bear to let her go?
He studied his reflection in the vanity mirror. Those were dangerous sentiments for a man who had nothing to offer.
He returned to the bedroom, crawled under the covers and gathered her in his arms and scissored his legs with hers. "You're something else," he told her.
Her body was smooth and soft and lush, all that he loved about women. She snuggled close to him and fit her head against his shoulder, her hand on his chest. He idly stroking the back of it with his fingertips.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked softly.
He smiled. “Something told me you’d have about a million questions.”
“I’m just trying to learn things I don’t know. Suzanne’s always telling me how sex is supposed to be. But she didn’t describe it very well. You can’t really describe it, can you?”
“I don’t think I ever tried.”
“I can’t keep from thinking about how wild and crazy the stallions get. Now I know why. Sex is really an animal-like thing, isn’t it? People aren’t really that much different from animals, are they?”
He had no idea where she was going with this conversation. He chuckled. “In some ways, I guess not.
“Do you think they…well, do they, you know, do you think the same thing happens to the cows and the mares that happens to women? I know they function out of instinct, but do you think they like sex?”
“You’re the breeding specialist. You’d know more about that than I do. All I know, is they must not mind it. Most of them don’t put up a fight.”
“Wow,” she whispered and hugged him tighter.
He scooted down and turned on his side to face her, belly to belly, burrowed his hands in her thick hair and held her head for a kiss. Then he drew back and smiled. “Does that brain of yours ever stop churning?”
“Does it bother you for me to ask questions?”
“Sweetheart, you’ve been asking me questions for two days. I gave up letting it bother me.”
She looked at him and searched his face with eyes layered with shadows. "You’re wonderful," she said and he almost stopped breathing. "You make me have feelings I’ve never had," she said, and his heart nearly stopped.
"That goes both ways, Jude. You scare me a little, but you make me think about things in a new way."
They talked. She told him how deeply she had been hurt by learning her first fian
cé had used her. Brady barely contained his anger. As an eighteen-year-old college freshman who had always lived in a bubble of parental protection in a tiny town her family practically owned, she would have been a lamb on her way to slaughter. Luckily, she had been smart enough to figure out what was happening before it was too late.
She told him how when her father engineered her second engagement, she had just gone along to get along. J.D. had been so angry at her over her breaking off with her first fiancé, she wanted to please him by cooperating on the second. But she hadn’t been able to carry on the charade for long. “I’m not sure about Jason, but I wonder if he’s gay,” she said. “But don’t ever say that to anyone. I’ve never even told Suzanne.”
“I have no reason to repeat it,” Brady said.
“Anyway, after Jason, I just devoted myself to school. By then Daddy and Grandpa both were mad at me. Daddy and I could scarcely have a conversation without getting into an argument. I didn’t really make up with either one of them until I moved back to the ranch.
Brady had no reference point from which to relate to her over-protected life.
“If you hadn't inherited your aunt's ranch," she asked from out of the blue, "would you have stayed in Stephenville?"
"I’d have gone back to Fort Worth and started over eventually. I was getting tired of living in isolation. Even before Aunt Margie passed away, I’d started planning a new subdivision in a small town west of Fort Worth, where my mom lives. I already had my eye on some land and was putting some things in place."
"What if you can't make the 6-0 work? Will you leave Lockett?"
"I'll have to."
"Oh, no," she said.
He was ridiculously pleased by the dismay in her voice. "Would you care if I left?"
"Yes," she said. "I sincerely would."
Chapter 13
Jude awoke, her mouth feeling like cotton and her stomach rumbling, but she didn't open her eyes. Though everything in the kitchen had been packed, she knew a plastic jug of milk still sat inside the refrigerator. The idea of cold soothing liquid sliding down her throat was enticing.
B00DVWSNZ8 EBOK Page 16