I didn’t tease. I brought the stiff length into my mouth in a single, greedy gulp.
Then I froze.
That’s when the “this is wrong, this isn’t Mick” voice became louder.
My thoughts warred with reality. The unfamiliar—yet it was familiar—taste on my tongue. The additional girth stretching my lips. The musky aroma filling my lungs that was all man…but wasn’t my man.
My eyes watered.
Not because I wanted to cry.
I gagged.
Not because I didn’t want to do this.
I fisted my hand around the base of his shaft and slid my mouth up, my lips catching on the rim of his cockhead. Then I twisted my hand up that meaty cock as I bobbed my head down, hollowing my cheeks with every suctioning pull.
A surprised, “Jesus,” exploded above me, followed by a rush of ragged exhales.
Lean hips pumped away from the wall toward my mouth.
Then strong fingers curled around my throat, stopping all motion. His dick slipped free when those fingers latched onto my jaw and tilted my head back.
My gaze collided with Breck’s as he squeezed his shaft in the middle, creating a makeshift cock ring. He continued to drag the wet head of his cock across my lips.
“If it hadn’t been so long since I had my dick sucked I’d tell you to slow down. But when I’m this close I need to know if I’m coming in your mouth.”
I nodded.
“Take your hat off, Cres,” he murmured huskily. “Keep your eyes on mine.”
A shiver worked through me as I set my Stetson on the ground.
Just like that, he’d taken charge.
Just like that, I’d let him.
For now.
Breck tenderly ran his fingers across my scalp before grabbing a fistful of my hair and directing my head to where he wanted it. His eyes glittered with lust as he began to fuck my mouth, each measured stroke faster and faster until that moment when he shoved in so deep my teeth dug into the root of his cock.
Breck groaned and his dick jerked on my tongue.
Thick bursts of come coated the back of my throat. He didn’t have to tell me to suck hard and swallow; I knew exactly what he needed.
That’s what I needed too. The heady rush of power. The give and take of control. Of surrender. The suspense of whose will to be on top would win out.
He released my hair and pulled out of my mouth, slumping back against the bricks, eyes squeezed shut, his chest heaving.
In the distance I heard music. In my peripheral vision I saw headlights sweep across the tall grass bordering the fence. Whoops and hollers drifted from someplace.
Resting on my knees in the dark, with my painfully hard dick pressing against the button-fly of my 501s, my jaw sore, I felt entirely disconnected. An overwhelming urge to escape had me blindly reaching for my hat and pushing to my feet.
“Don’t run off,” Breck said gruffly, when I took a step back off the curb. “I ain’t close to done with you tonight.” He situated his hat on his head and righted his clothing, never taking his eyes off mine. Then he reached for me. “The tour can wait.”
“Okay.”
“I can’t.” Breck loomed over me. “Christ, I want you.” He shoved his left hand in the front of my jeans and latched onto me by my belt, his knuckles brushing my erection as he held me in place. He angled his head above mine without banging our hats together—a trick I’d never managed when I locked lips with another cowboy. This kiss was all sweet seduction and gratitude.
My free hand landed on his chest. I was bowled over by his tenderness—something I never expected from a guy who considered fucking an endurance sport.
He murmured, “Come to my place. Even for just a couple of hours.”
I slowly licked his lower lip. “If that’s what you want.”
“Oh, I want all right.”
His wicked grin sent my pulse tripping.
We walked hand in hand up the road and cut through the last open area before the tree line. The path grew steeper. By the time we crested the hill, we were both breathing hard again.
That’s when I noticed we were in a campground, complete with electrical hookups for each unit space and a private picnic shelter.
“What’s this place?” I asked.
“Campground for staff.”
“You live in a camper?”
“Yep. The one on the end is mine.” Breck stopped in front of a motor home too damn fancy to be called a camper. I’d seen rock star tour buses on TV that were trailer trash compared to this.
“You win the lottery?” Or maybe he’d won a lawsuit. Since he indicated he was buddies with Macon Gradsky, it was a possibility they’d sued the magazine for damages and gone after the CRA for discrimination. From listening to London talk about her brother, Macon was one sue-happy motherfucker.
“This isn’t mine from lottery winnings—either from the state or a lawsuit lottery. When I decided to wander, I needed someplace to call home. I bought this with the money I had left.” He opened the door and a motorized step popped out. “Go on in.”
The inside was ten times more impressive than the outside. I sort of stood there with my mouth hanging open.
A whoosh sounded after I watched Breck poke a button that shut the door. The blinds were already down, obstructing the view out the windows. But no one could see in either.
Breck stalked me. “Tell me what you want, Cres.”
I stood my ground, even when my heart jackhammered and the first flutters of panic made breathing difficult. Then we were chest to chest, groin to groin. “What are my options?”
He removed my hat and set it on the table next to his. “You want seduction? Rolling around on my bed naked for an hour of foreplay before I fuck you?” He brushed his lips across the top of my ear. “Or should we skip that and I suck you off before I bend you over my table and fuck you?”
“Maybe I want option C. You already got yours; I take mine by bending you over the arm of the couch.”
“You are more assertive than you used to be,” he murmured in my ear. “I like that. It’s hot as hell. Means you’re gonna make me work for it. I love a challenge, so let’s see where this goes.”
I didn’t argue as Breck propelled me backward, his mouth plastered to mine, his hands on me everywhere. Making me hard. Making me dizzy.
We stopped when the backs of my knees connected with a solid surface. He broke the kiss and placed his hand on my chest, pushing me until my ass hit the mattress.
“You look good on my bed, Cres.”
When Breck leaned over, I grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him on top of me. Yeah, he was a big guy, but I wasn’t exactly a 98-pound weakling.
Still, the move surprised him.
It really surprised him when I rolled him beneath me and nestled my ass against his groin. Keeping my gaze on his, I said, “Still wanna see the aggressive side of me?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
I rocked against the thick length of his erection pressing between my butt cheeks.
Breck groaned and reached for my hips. “Shift back. I wanna feel your cock rubbing on mine.”
I laughed softly. “Topping me from below ain’t happening.”
A devilish gleam entered his eyes. “I already got off once. I just wanted to even things up, but whatever. You’re on top.”
“Damn straight. Now unbutton your shirt,” I said, still grinding against him.
His hands went to his throat and he undid the first button. “You did have a thing for my chest.”
“Let’s see if I still do. Hurry up.”
Once he’d reached the last button above the waist of his jeans, I lifted up so he could untuck his shirt. Then he spread the two sides open, gifting me an unobstructed view of his upper body.
My dick went harder yet and a growl of approval rumbled out.
A thick mat of dark hair furred his chest. He’d lost some of the bulk, but his pectorals were still beautifully defined, as
were his abs. The flat brown nipples—almost invisible unless he was aroused—poked up, as if begging for my mouth.
“Jesus, Cres. Stop licking your lips like that. You’re gonna make me shoot my load in my damn jeans.”
I pressed my thumbs on his nipples, spreading my fingers outward, digging the tips into his sides between his armpits and his ribcage. As I angled forward I had to shift down his lower body so we were nose to nose. “Touch me.”
Breck clamped his big mitts onto my butt. He squeezed the flesh and pressed down, adding more pressure to our cocks grinding together. A confident grin tipped up his lips before he fused them to mine. His voracity pulsed through our bodies like a sonic wave each time he sucked on my tongue. My mouth throbbed when he slowed the kiss and tasted the underside of my top and bottom lips with lazy sweeps of his tongue.
That’s when the tingling started at the base of my spine.
Too soon. I wasn’t ready for this to end. It felt like we’d just started.
“Cres.” Breck nudged my chin up and nipped my jawline with firm-lipped bites. “Undo our jeans. Rub your cock against mine. Skin on skin.”
I wanted the heat and hardness. The urgency. The musky scent of spunk and sweat.
He knew I was about to give in and he did the one thing that’d guarantee it. He whispered, “Please.”
I pushed myself up and scooted back so my knees bracketed the outside of his thighs.
Breck rose up to rest on his elbows, so he could watch me unbuckle and unzip him. His chest was damp, billowing in and out as he rolled his pelvis so I could tug his jeans and briefs down to his shins. My knuckles smacked into the top of his boot shaft, startling me. We’d been so crazed for each other we hadn’t taken off our boots.
Time to rectify that.
I hopped off the bed.
His right eyebrow winged up. “Goin’ someplace?”
I grabbed the heel of his right boot and lifted, yanking it off his foot. Repeated it on the left side.
Grinning, I pantsed him.
Then I undid my belt and unzipped before I crawled back between his legs.
His smile faded. “Why am I mostly naked and you’re not?”
I flattened my palms by his head, keeping my body in a pushup position over his as I brushed my lips over the divot in his chin. “I want you feelin’ the friction from the denim scraping the inside of your thighs as I’m grinding on you.” My lips traveled up to his ear. “I want you to hear the buckle on my belt clanking as I’m moving above you.” I sank my teeth into his earlobe and he arched up. “I want you to remember this. I don’t want to be another anonymous quickie fuck, Breck.”
Where the hell had that come from? I sounded possessive and commanding. As if I expected this to be more than a one-time blowjob and rub off.
“You never were that, Cres, even when that’s all you were supposed to be.” Breck jerked my jeans and boxer briefs down to the middle of my thighs. He followed the crease of my ass up, ending at my lower back.
When he reached between us and his knuckles grazed my balls, I started like a frightened rabbit. It’d been a lifetime since any hand beside my own had touched my cock.
He stroked me and stared into my face, his fierce eyes issuing a challenge. “You sure you don’t wanna straddle my face so I can suck you off?”
“Still topping from below.” I lowered my pelvis, forcing him to let go of my dick. I hissed in a breath when our cocks touched and adjusted my hips so the rim of his cockhead caught on mine with every upstroke.
“Oh, fuck. That’s…” He groaned as I rubbed my rigid shaft over the sweet spot below the head of his cock.
“Still want me to stop and fuck your mouth?” I whispered against his temple.
“No. Goddamn you’re good at this. Don’t ever fucking stop.” His fingers dug into my ass and he tilted his head to conquer my mouth in a sizzling kiss.
That dizzying sense of urgency assailed me and I began to move with more enthusiasm than finesse.
Wet mouths, hot, hard, damp bodies in motion. The heated scent of his skin, the addicting taste of his mouth proved to be too much and I teetered on the edge.
He pumped his hips, his body shaking beneath mine. “I need it faster.”
“Do it.”
Clamping his big fist around both of our dicks, he jerked us off. “Fuck. Yes.”
I started to come, his name on my lips as I shot my load in hot bursts of ass clenching pleasure.
His sexy grunts of satisfaction followed.
After my cock quit twitching and the buzzing in my head faded, I collapsed on top of him. Burying my face in the crook of his neck, my lips searching for the spot on his throat where his pulse always jumped wildly.
But it wasn’t there, next to his voice box.
I murmured, “That was a nice change of pace.”
The body below mine shook with humor. “Nice? That was fucking spectacular.”
I froze.
Not Mick’s voice—he never swore.
I inhaled.
Not Mick’s scent—he always wore cologne.
And because I was either losing my mind or a fucking masochist, when I licked the skin beneath my lips, it wasn’t the clean taste of Mick’s sweat. This was earthier. More…primal.
I scrambled upright so fast my cock jerked free from the hand surrounding it with enough force my balls stung from the sharp pain.
Then I was staring into slumberous blue eyes, not brown.
The smile on the full red lips was decidedly cocky, not sweet.
Holy fuck.
Since Breck wore that sated look…maybe he hadn’t heard me saying another man’s name when I spurted all over his hand.
Shame burned through me.
I was off the bed and fastening my jeans and belt before Breck knew anything was wrong.
So very wrong.
“Cres? What’s goin’ on?”
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go.”
“What? Jesus. Just wait a damn minute.”
But I didn’t.
I ran out like a fucking coward.
Chapter Four
Breck
The next morning I went looking for Sutton Grant.
Most of the staff had stayed over after the party last night. And I knew from Berlin’s complaints that London wasn’t an early riser so chances were good they were still around.
The tricky part would be asking Sutton what was wrong with his brother without rousing his suspicions. I wasn’t sure Cres would appreciate being linked to me given the fact he’d run out on me.
Chapped my ass every time I thought about it.
The construction workers had already disassembled the biggest tent and were packing up chairs. I cut across the road to the cafeteria.
Sure enough, Sutton held court by the buffet.
I sauntered over to the industrial coffee urn and filled a cup.
Strung Up Page 5