by Lauren Dane
“Man takes his time with your mouth, he’s good with other parts.” Tate looked wistfully over in her husband’s direction.
“You all should remember I am single at the moment. I’m not getting any and all this talk is making me antsy.” Anne sighed.
“Then why do you keep turning Royal down when he asks you to marry him?” Maggie Chase asked.
But Beth knew the answer. Anne had grown up smacked in the face with the worst marriage ever. Their parents were miserable people on their own. Together they’d been a train wreck of epic proportions. Anne didn’t believe any marriage could work. And Beth also knew despite how beautiful, smart and talented her sister was, she didn’t believe she was worthy of her happily ever after.
So she held men back. Royal was the one who kept at it. But he was close to giving up and that made Beth sad. He was a good man who loved her sister. But the scars your life gives you sometimes run so deep you can’t ever heal over.
In the end, she just wasn’t sure Royal had whatever it took to get past Anne’s defenses. Or if anyone did.
Anne sighed. “I don’t want to get married. If he’d just date me, we’d be fine. But he insists on marriage and I keep telling him I’m not interested.”
Beth neatly stepped in and changed the subject. “So, Tate, what do you think? Boy or girl this time?”
The sisters looked over, laughing and whispering. Matt Chase raised a brow and looked to Joe. “They’re talking about you.”
Joe felt the heat of a blush. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s not a moron.” William sat back and sipped his soda.
“Don’t look so panicked. They do it about us all.” Matt tipped his glass. “Thank God for it. Look at ’em.”
The group took the women in. Marc Chase, Matt’s little brother, laughed. “Damn, such a pretty bunch of females. Each is wily though, Joe. That’s the thing. Beauty, no doubt. But they’re all smart and independent.”
“They work in a pack.” That was Shane, the sheriff and oldest Chase brother.
That made Joe laugh. “A pack?”
“Wolves are really smart. And vicious as hell if you mess with them and theirs.”
“I like Beth. Beth likes me. That’s really it.” He shrugged. “I’ve known you Murphys for my entire life. She’s a friend first and foremost.”
It was Marc who seemed to find that the funniest. “Yeah. Liv and I were friends too. Now she’s given me two babies and makes me mow the lawn.”
Yeah well hopefully she wouldn’t have to call their children to come over to talk him down from a rage where he’d threatened to burn the house down with their mother in it. That had been a great capper to a night where he thought he’d be getting in between Beth’s thighs.
He’d dropped Beth off and raced to his parents’ house to find his mother huddling in the car, weeping, while his father paced around the house, ranting and making threats.
There was a dark knot of rage in his father’s belly and it seemed to be growing. Joe had no idea what to do about it. He wanted to call the cops, hoping that the shock would push his father to get help. But his mother had only gotten more upset. Joe had brought her to his apartment to spend the night, but she’d gone home soon after she’d gotten up and kept insisting things were fine.
He shouldn’t have come here. But Beth had been so pretty when she asked. So sweet. And the allure of normal time with friends was too much to turn down. It had been good, he realized. He’d needed it. But he knew it wasn’t a good idea to get used to it.
But it was hard to keep to that when she’d sat with him while they watched the movie. One of the kids snuggled up in her lap with Buck, who everyone had insisted he bring over, who’d laid his head on her thigh. She spent a lot of her time laughing and joking.
He noticed she filled that spot in her family. She made it look effortless, the way she cheered up crying children. He’d watched her steer the conversation around potential arguments between her siblings, even as she’d defended them, and in a few cases, delivered a little discipline.
And there they sat in his truck, in his driveway because Buck was with them. He should have dropped her off first, then he’d have a way to just kiss her and move on. He knew once they had sex things would deepen between them. How could they not? He should avoid it.
He gave himself this lecture as she chatted with Buck, who’d managed to claim her lap. Whatever it was, Buck thought it was awesome because he gave her his best dog grin and licked her here and there to underline it.
Joe didn’t blame Buck. He wanted to lick her too.
He got out and went around, and she handed him the dog first, before he helped her out.
“He’s spoiled enough as it is.”
She laughed. “The kids were in heaven with him tonight. I’m so glad you came along, Buck. You made lots of happy giggly children.”
Buck danced to the front door after he stopped to sniff around the steps and the flowerboxes. He snorted, peed on a few places and barreled into the house when Joe opened the door.
“So, Joe Harris, are you going to make this girl all giggly?”
He backed her up against the wall, pressing himself into her body. “I think so, yeah.” He kissed her slow, tasting her, settling in. “Though your mouth might be too busy to giggle.”
“You say the hottest stuff.”
Her hands made their way under the hem of his shirt, stroking up his back, nails scoring lightly, sending shivers through him.
“I really want to see those tattoos.”
He picked her up and headed back to his bedroom. Once he’d tossed her to his bed, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, reveling in the way she looked him over.
“Good God,” she breathed out. “I might come just from looking at you.”
“Don’t leave without me.” He pulled her pretty sandals off, digging his thumbs in, kneading until she made a sound that shot straight to his cock.
The hem of the skirt she wore slid up, exposing a whole lot of tanned thigh. He knelt on the bed, sliding his palms up from her ankles, up her calves, pausing to dig his thumbs in just behind her knee. Her lips parted on a soft sigh as she watched him.
She parted her thighs, giving him a glimpse of fire-engine-red panties. Her cleavage heaved up at the scoop neck of the shirt she had on. He shook his head. “There’s so much here I don’t know where to start. You’re like Christmas and my birthday all in one ridiculously sexy package.”
“You can start by getting rid of your shorts.”
She smiled. That smile.
His hands went to his waist, and she watched, her breath catching as he popped the button.
“You should get rid of that shirt.” He tipped his chin in her direction.
She sat up, crisscrossed her arms, grabbed her shirt at the hem and pulled it off, leaving her in a sexy red bra.
He ran covetous hands all over her then. Needing to touch that soft, pretty skin. Needing the curve of her breasts.
“Damn, baby, you’re so pretty.” He brushed his lips over the right breast and then the left as he got her bra unhooked and pulled away from her upper body.
He sucked in a breath. “These. Sweet baby Jesus.” He thumbed across her nipples until she squeaked, arching into him, her fingers clutching his biceps to keep him close.
“When you had on a shirt and sandals, the skirt was sexy, but pretty wholesome.” He sat back on his heels to take her in. Tousled. Lips swollen from his kisses, her hair had come loose from the ponytail she’d been wearing. Her tits, holy shit, perfect, pert B cups.
“And now?”
“Now.” He reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties—a tiny scrap of red fabric—off. “Now somehow that skirt looks ridiculously sexy.”
“Your shorts are still on.”
He’d been in mid-strip when she’d taken her shirt off. “Like you can blame me? Your tits are so hot I just sort of forgot everything else.”
She reared up,
grabbing his shorts and boxers, pulling them down. “Oh. My.” He tried not to blush as he got everything off and settled back on the bed with her.
She scrambled atop his body, running her hands all over his chest. Tracing over his tattoos. “These are amazing.”
He looked down at the barbed wire created with gears. “I traded labor with a tattoo artist. He needed help overhauling an engine. I wanted some ink.”
She bent, her hair sliding over his chest as she pressed a kiss against it. She licked over each of his nipples until he grunted, shifting.
Her pussy rested against his cock. Hot. Wet. She undulated, brushing herself against him, and he groaned. “I want in you so much my teeth hurt.”
She caught her bottom lip between straight, white teeth. “Yeah? What are you waiting for then?”
He flipped her to her back. “There are other things I want to do first.” He kissed her belly and then up. Up to the curve of her breast, just beneath, leading up to her nipple, which he swirled a tongue around until she arched on a gasp.
He was so big. Tall. Shoulders wide. Burnished by the sun. Strengthened by hard work. His hands were work rough, but gentle as he touched her. She liked big men. Tall, long, workstrong. This man was all that and more.
It was the and more part that made her weak in the knees. He leaned over her body, his cock hard, insistent at her thigh. His mouth cruised over her skin, totally sure.
His body was so gorgeous she couldn’t stand it. Inside her head she squealed with delight. All that ink on his chest and upper arms matched the wary eyes and the too-long blond hair. He was a big, bad man but only on the outside.
Lordamighty that was hot. The hottest thing she’d ever been this close to.
She really liked it.
He drew on her nipple, sucking tight until she made a sound she hadn’t even intended on making. He chuckled. A cocksure guy sound. A shiver went through her.
Never, ever in her life had she been more turned on. And that was before he reversed his movement, heading down. Kissing over her ribs, across each hipbone and around her belly button.
Then, as he held her gaze, he pushed her skirt up and broke her gaze, looking down at her pussy with such raw hunger she had to swallow back a moan at the sight.
“Can I tell you something?” he murmured, his lips so close that she felt the puffs of air against her labia. She nodded, wordless. “I love this part of a woman.”
He spread her open and bent his head to take a long lick.
“I’m glad to hear it,” she managed to say around a tongue that felt too big for her mouth.
“I’m going to lick you until you come so hard you can’t speak. And then I’m going to fuck you.”
She had no words already so she gave him two thumbs-up and kept watching, sifting her fingers through his hair.
He certainly seemed to love this part of her. Over and over he teased her with his lips. With his tongue and fingers, and every once in a while, the edge of his teeth. He took it slow. So achingly slow she thought she’d explode from it.
And when it came, when orgasm sucked her under, her back bowed as she tried not to pull his hair too hard, holding him in place as wave after wave of pleasure hit her.
But she wasn’t so boneless she wasn’t able to grab his cock when he tried to move up and past her.
He started to speak until she gave the head of his cock a lick, then the words dissolved into a groan. He stilled, letting her have her way as she licked up the line of him and sucked.
He was a big man. In more ways than one. She had no trouble paying homage to his cock. Cupping his balls as she licked around the crown. He moaned softly, saying her name a few times.
He cradled her head, stroking his free hand over her hair. “Yes, God, yes.” She kept on until he pulled her hair, sending a delighted wave of sensation over her skin from the scalp down. “Enough. For now.”
She pulled off and flopped back to the mattress with a pout.
He kissed her quickly. “Don’t pout.” He returned in moments with a foil square and tore it open with his teeth. Anticipation sliced through her as she couldn’t tear her gaze from the sight of him rolling the latex over his cock, suiting up.
“On your hands and knees.” He turned her. “Facing the mirror so I can watch.”
He was totally going to kill her with the dirty stuff.
He got behind her, on his knees and watched the long line of her back. He spread her thighs and teased her with the head of his cock until she was nearly insane and pushed back, taking the head of him inside.
He put a staying, slowing hand on her hip. “Shhh. It’s coming.” She was so tight he needed to go slow. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he was already so close to coming that if she took him any quicker it would be over before it really got started.
She hummed, a sort of moan, as her fingers tangled in the comforter. Her eyes were closed, so it left him free to look at other parts of her. The ones he saw reflected in the mirror—the sway of those tits as he pressed in deeper and then deeper, the way her lips parted on a sigh when he reached around and gave her clit a feather-light touch. And the ones laid out before him like a buffet. The silky-smooth skin of her back. The curve of her ass. The definition of her biceps as she moved. The sable-dark hair as it slid over her shoulders.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had in his bed, definitely the most beautiful woman he’d ever been inside of.
“More,” she gasped. “Please.”
She swiveled her hips a bit, making him see spots as he locked his jaw and concentrated. He pulled her hips back as he pressed in, just a little. And then a little more.
She was inferno hot. Hot enough to scald him even through the condom. So tight, sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled to keep control.
“You feel so good,” she whispered and it tore at his heart. At the walls he built around himself. This woman was so honest, so raw. It made the sex a million times better, but also left him stripped down.
That she seemed to enjoy fucking as much as he did was a good thing. He needed to stop tripping on the other stuff that didn’t matter. He shook his head, sliding in that last bit. This was hot. She was hot. There was no reason not to enjoy every last moment of it.
He began to stroke, fucking her slow and deep. She kept his pace, pressing back with that swivel of hers. Over and over until he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began. Until he found that place of no return.
He reached around again, finding her slick, her clit swollen to his touch. He slid a fingertip over it and around it. In time with his strokes until her inner walls fluttered, tightened around him, sucking a gasp from his lips as she came. Dragging him right along with her as orgasm hit him so hard his skin tingled as he groaned long and low. It went on and on until he collapsed beside her, finding his muscle control enough to get up to rid himself of the condom and return to her again.
She smiled at him, leaning to kiss his elbow as it was right next to her face. “Wow. If you can fix a car half as well as you can sex a girl up, you’re going to make a million dollars.”
He laughed, pulling her closer. “I’ll take that compliment quite gracefully. Though admittedly you certainly made it all worthwhile.”
Buck bumped the door Joe had closed on the way in earlier.
“My dog has a crush on you.”
She snorted. “He’s awfully cute. Like his human.”
He sat. “I’m hungry again.”
“I may need those promised Epsom salts first.”
He laughed harder. “I meant for actual food. Meet me in the kitchen and I’ll make it worth your while.”
Chapter Eight
Joe stepped in between his father and their neighbor, ending the yelling. “Mr. Pierson, I surely do apologize. I’ll get this handled today.” He steered his father away, though his father resisted.
“Get your hands off me, boy!”
“Do you want to go to jail?” Joe was a man in the p
rime of his life while his father had been battling injuries and illness for the last three decades. It wasn’t hard to get him to go where Joe wanted.
But his father was on a tear. Angry words fell from his mouth like rain. “You think you can be gone for ten years and just come back and everything is all right? I can take care of my own business.”
Joe gently, but firmly pushed his father inside, closing and locking the door, standing between his father and any escape.
“You don’t have anything handled.”
His mother sighed, wringing her hands. “Carl, be easy now. Joe’s just trying to help.”
“He’s useless. It’s a wonder he’s here and not in prison.”
Joe took a deep breath. “The Joe who left here ten years ago could have easily ended up in prison. But I’m not that dumb kid anymore. I’ve changed. I’m hoping you’ll let me show you that. But in the meantime, you can’t start fights with the neighbors. You’re going to get the cops called and then what?”
“I can store my trash any damned way I see fit!”
“No, you can’t. You’re in the city limits and there are laws about how you deal with your trash. You know that. Pierson knows that. I’ll get the trash dealt with in a few minutes. I’ve got the truck, I’ll take it to the dump.”
“I don’t need you to take my trash out!”
“You need someone to tell you a few things.” Joe had made some calls over the last week. His own status as a vet had helped a little. He had some resources on hand. He knew his father had been blowing up more and more, almost always over his stuff and anyone touching it or trying to get him to deal with it. There were issues here far more than the slipped discs in his back.
“Oh yeah? And you think you’re the man to do it?”
He sighed. “Dad, sit down, please. I don’t want to fight with you. But this has gone far enough. It’s a serious thing, you know. People are starting to talk. You’re upsetting people, including Mom.”
“Why is it anyone’s business?” The rage had washed away now, the confusion replacing it.
“It’s not until your stuff spills into your neighbor’s driveway. Or when you start a fight with the mail carrier or George down at the hardware store. Or when you scare my mother. There’s something wrong and I think it’s time to see someone.”