by Marie Jermy
If only Rex knew how secretly pleased she’d been when he’d refused to move out. She enjoyed living with him. The highlight of her day would be evening time after Samantha had gone home. She’d watch him while he relaxed in the armchair, his long legs stretched out, a science fiction novel in one hand and one of Mimi’s peanut butter cookies in the other. Sometimes he would catch her watching him, the look which passed between them before she quickly glanced away capable of singeing the pages.
Ramona then drew in a long breath as she remembered what happened the morning before. The looks between them might singe pages, but the book had well and truly erupted into a ball of flames when he’d kissed her. If he hadn’t made such a big deal about her being on the pill during the five-second sex on the treatment table, her whole body would have burst into flames, too.
She definitely wanted to jump Rex’s bones. Over and over and over again. The sooner, the better. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he wanted the same. They had to be discreet, though. She didn’t think it fair on her sister’s feelings, especially after what happened, for Samantha to know about the numerous sizzling sex-a-thons she had in mind. She would, however, tell Samantha about Rex’s comforting hug. After all, it had made them both feel better.
When Samantha emerged some thirty minutes later, Ramona detected an irritability to her sister. “What’s the matter?”
“I have two prescriptions. One for sleeping pills. The other for the morning after pill.”
Ramona quirked an eyebrow. The sleeping pills she could understand, but emergency contraceptive? Unlike her, she knew her sister wasn’t on the pill, but from what she’d been told, Ross and Matt had interrupted Raven before he even got close to the region that would warrant guarding against pregnancy. In actual fact, no man had. Unless, Dr. Parks thought some sort of divine intervention was at work. Her cheeks tinged pink. It was definitely not the time to remember the five-second sex the morning before.
“I don’t know how many times I told Dr. Parks I didn’t need it, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“You don’t have to take it.” Ramona linked her arm through Samantha’s and led her to her truck. Once behind the wheel, she said, “Um, Sammy, I’ve got to tell you something. Last night, I broke down in front of Rex. Totally covered his shirt in snot when he held me. I was in his arms for twenty minutes, Sammy, the same amount of time you felt safe.”
“Tell him, thank you.” Samantha’s mouth curved softly. “You want to keep hold of him, Mona. He’s nice. Kind. And he’ll never lie or cheat on you.”
“Whoa, hold on there. He only held me, Sammy. It’s not like we’ve kissed or anything.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“No?”
Ramona ignored her sister’s knowing look. As she drove the short distance from the Medical Center to Second Street, she nonchalantly asked, “What happened at twenty-one minutes?”
“I don’t know. I felt so warm and safe, I fell asleep. Why?”
Ramona shrugged, keeping it light. “Rex told me his favorite movie is the black and white 1933 version of King Kong. Thought you’d be laughing over his crack about how big an ape’s bananas are.”
A peal of giggles escaped from Samantha. “Again, tell Rex, thank you.”
“Tell him yourself,” Ramona replied, pulling up behind Rex’s SUV. “I asked him to help Ross with moving your things.”
Just then, Ross came out of the house and loaded a box into the back of Samantha’s SUV that he’d borrowed. “Hi, you two. How’d you get on?” he asked Samantha, giving her a hug when she went to him.
“I’ve got some sleeping pills.”
“Is Rex inside?” Ramona asked, tamping down a sudden urge to jump Rex’s bones there and then.
“Nope. Watson called. Problem with one of his horses. I showed Rex the shortcut, or should I say long cut. If you run, you’ll catch him.”
Ramona stared at Ross and then Samantha. Both shared the same knowing smile. Her face began to flame even as she said, “I will never run after any man. And certainly not that smug SOB.”
She set a slow jogging pace instead.
* * * *
His right hand firmly entrenched up Storm’s nether regions, Rex watched the small figure jogging across the prairie then vaulting over the fence into the paddock. He sure was pleased to see Ramona because Watson, who stood holding the bridle and stroking Storm’s mane, had been driving him to distraction with his constant bellyaching over the length of time he had taken in arriving. So what if his five minutes had stretched into forty? So what if his mode of transport had consisted of two legs, not four wheels?
As Ramona approached, his heart squeezed at the sight of her sparkling green eyes and carefree expression. He withdrew his hand, removed the long rubber gloves with an audible “swack,” and then rubbed his hands with the antibacterial gel he took from the medical bag. “Mr. Watson, there is nothing wrong with Thunder.”
“Storm,” Ramona corrected Rex and smiled at Watson.
“Ramona, I didn’t expect to see you. I heard about what happened. If there’s anything I can do, then just ask. I’m only a phone call away.”
Rex brushed aside the absurd notion that Watson was hitting on Ramona. “There is nothing wrong with Thunder,” he again said.
“Storm,” Ramona reminded him.
“Are you sure?” Watson asked him.
Rex bristled at Watson’s condescending tone and attitude. “Mr. Watson, are you questioning my abilities as a vet?”
“No, no, no. Of course not.”
“Good. Like I said, there is nothing wrong with the mare. Unless you count the fact that she’s pregnant.”
Watson looked astonished. “What? How can that be?”
“Well,” he drawled, “I’m sure as a breeder, Mr. Watson, you’ll be aware of what tends to happen when a mare meets a stud.”
“Very funny, Mr. Latimer.” Watson strode in the direction of his ranch house, calling over his shoulder, “Send me the invoice.”
“It’s Doctor Latimer. And don’t worry, we will.” Rex winked at Ramona and patted Storm on her flank. “Thunder, you’re in serious trouble. I told you not to chase the boys.”
“It’s Storm,” Ramona again reminded him. “Look at her coat. It’s dark gray, like the color of storm clouds.”
“Personally, Ramona, I don’t care if her name’s Partly Cloudy With The Chance Of Showers.” That earned him a fit of giggles. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You know her name’s Storm, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
His grin was smug. Ramona picked up the medical bag and whacked Rex with it. “C’mon, race you to the fence.” The rapidly diminishing light then made her look upward. Dark and foreboding clouds had bubbled up and were rapidly rolling over the azure sky. “Uh-oh. Speaking of storms…”
The words had hardly left her mouth when a fat raindrop splashed on her nose. There was another splash then another, and then the heavens literally opened. With a squeal, and with Rex close behind her, Ramona dashed toward some nearby trees. Okay, not exactly a smart place to take shelter. However, it was either that or swap pleasantries with “Pain in the ass” Watson at his house, something that neither of them found appealing.
By the time they got to the trees, they were both drenched. “Why couldn’t you have driven here?” Ramona grumbled as she placed the medical bag down.
“Ah, quit complain’,” he said, wringing the rain from his shirt. “You ought to go storm chasing. Then you’ll know what real rain is…” The words died in his throat when he turned to face her.
“Storm chasing? Don’t tell me you’re one of these morons who gets a boner chasing tornados.”
Rex had never gotten stiff in a storm, but he sure was getting stiff now. Incredibly stiff. And it had nothing to do with the cool breeze that had kicked up, either. Ramona’s T-shirt wasn’t just saturated, it was clinging, confirming his earlier suspicion that she was braless.
&n
bsp; The thin cotton fabric hugged her plump breasts like a second skin, her nipples pulled impossibly taut. He grew harder still at the thought of warming those puckered peaks in his mouth, to sample both nature and hot woman. Her gaze was transfixed on his groin, and the thought became an urge, an urge he couldn’t resist.
One breathless moment later, Ramona’s back was against a tree, the chilled, rough bark chafing her shoulder blades as she writhed against Rex, his mouth firmly planted around her fabric-covered left nipple and sucking hard.
A rush of primal greed lanced through him. He wanted her real bad and right now. Fumbling with the button and the zipper and finally managing to undo them, he yanked her denim shorts down and off her legs, the sight of her shocking-pink panties knocking the breath out of him. “Take. Your. Panties. Off!” he demanded, choking out each word.
“Yes.” She nodded eagerly, doing exactly as she was told while he unzipped his jeans and sheathed himself in a condom that had appeared almost out of nowhere.
The wind whistling through the branches above them, sporadically bombarded with heavy drops from the canopy of leaves, his nostrils filled with the scent of fresh rain, earth, sex and their combined heat, Rex ground his cock against Ramona, then cupping her ass and lifting her, he thrust his hips forward and stabbed into her pussy. She was so so tight, but felt so so right, especially when she locked her legs around his waist as he pounded in and out.
Her small squeals of delight robbed him further of air, and he pounded her slickening pussy harder, taking him to the brink. Then, with eyes wide open, she kissed him, and he rocketed over the edge, her mouth absorbing his raw groans, his hot male cum almost searing a hole in the end of the condom.
His world settled. His heart, on the other hand, did not. It was racing, racing as she continued to kiss him and squirm that incredibly hot, wet body against him. Needing air, Rex broke off and dropped his head into her neck, gently nuzzling the soft flesh and just breathing her in. It then registered her squirming was becoming more frantic by the second. He lifted his head. Her eyes were now closed, her flushed face fixed in concentration.
“Rex, don’t stop… I’m nearly there…”
Don’t stop? He hadn’t been moving for at least a minute. “Um, I’m limp.” His words and the look of disappointment that appeared on her face as she stilled heaped guilt on his shoulders. He was a jerk. A total jerk for having satisfied himself without a moment’s thought for her. He withdrew, steadied Ramona as she unwound her legs from his waist and dropped her feet to the ground. Using a handkerchief he took from his right front jeans pocket, he disposed of the used condom.
“Oh,” she said.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“How soon can you get hard again?”
Rex coughed, blinked, and then groaned. Ramona’s hand had traveled south. Her sure fingers enclosed around his cock, and she rubbed him down and up, stroking him, pumping him.
“Not long then,” Ramona laughed when he grew hard.
“Apparently not.” He gently ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “You make me hard.”
“I do, don’t I?”
“And you call me smug. A smug SOB, wasn’t that what you called me?”
“Ross told you that?”
“He did.” Becoming aware of increasing light and a silence around them, Rex glanced over his shoulder. Sunbeams were breaking through the rapidly dispersing clouds, warming the rain-soaked earth, creating a fine mist to rise over the prairies. The rain shower just like the sex had literally been a two-minute wonder, a wonder for him but not for her. He was going to have to put that right. “Since I’ve left you wanting in the orgasm department, why don’t we retire to somewhere more private and more comfortable so I can tend to your needs?”
“‘Tend to my needs?’ Jeez, you sound such a gentleman.” Bending down, Ramona scooped up her shorts and panties and put them on. “Why can’t you just say you want to fuck my brains out?”
“Okay, I want to fuck your brains out. Satisfied?”
“We’ll see.”
Rex rolled his eyes as he carefully zipped his jeans—not always an easy task with a stiff cock—and picked up the medical bag. “What’s wrong with being a gentleman?” he asked as they made their way back across the prairie.
“Nothing, I guess. Although Dad has his fiery moments, he’s a gentleman, too. Mom laps it up.”
“There’s quite a difference in age between them, isn’t there?” he asked, remembering the gray-haired Ross Senior and chestnut-haired Jess from the party and the times he had seen them about town.
“Yeah, twenty-three years.”
“I seem to remember you told me they were both cops. Is that how they met?”
She turned to him. “You really like your twenty questions, don’t you?”
“What can I say? You started it. And besides, I’m curious.”
“Nosy more like.” She linked her arm through his. “I don’t want to talk about my parents. I’d rather talk about us, and in particular how you’re gonna tend to my needs.”
“I’d rather show you,” he said with a smug grin.
Their clothes were bone dry by the time they reached their vehicles. Not seeing Ross or Samantha, and both feeling guilty about not wanting to, either, they decided to drive back to the practice in Rex’s SUV.
As soon as they arrived, Rex went to enter the house, but Ramona tugged on his arm and led him to the stable block.
Chapter 8
A roll in the hay. The cliché ran through Rex’s mind as he barred the door and led Ramona into the nearest empty horse stall. But cliché or not, there was no way he was going to let that bother him. Not when her soft body was pressed against his, her hands making light work of the buttons of his shirt, her luscious, hot and needy mouth kissing the bare skin she revealed.
The craving for her mouth to be on his was overwhelming. Discarding his shirt, Rex took a firm grip around her waist and lifted her off her feet, bringing her up to his level. “Come here, you. I want that gorgeous mouth of yours on mine.” Her little moan sent licks of lust down his spine.
“I want to use my mouth on your neck,” she murmured as she explored his lips with her tongue. “Your shoulders. Your chest. Your stomach. Your cock.” He groaned low and hard at that. “Especially your cock. I want you in my mouth, deep in my mouth. I wanna blow you. Hard.”
“Ah, Ramona, you have no idea how much I want that.”
His sentence ended on a groan as she gave his lips a final lick and then moved to his neck.
“Mmm, you smell of spice and sex.” She nibbled and sucked on his unshaven skin. “You don’t shave at weekends.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I like to rough it,” he said, trying and failing in recapturing her lips. “You like?”
“I do.”
Rex tried not to read too much into Ramona’s response as she shifted lower in his arms, nibbling and licking across his shoulders. Lower still, she blazed a trail of soft kisses between his male nipples and gently rolled them with her fingers, making him groan, wishing and wanting her to go a damned sight quicker with her downward journey.
“Do you like me playing with your nipples?” Ramona asked as she turned her tongue on the left one, licking around the brown areola with the flat side then flicking the tip over the raised little nub.
“Mmm,” Rex managed to utter, the thought of her playing with his cock causing severe upheaval in the speech department. The problem was sorted when she gave his nipple a hard nip. “Ow! That hurt.”
“Did it?” She licked over the spot she’d bitten. “But it was still a turn-on, right?”
He stared at her. She stared right back. Her striking green eyes sparkled with naked lust. And he began to drown as his cock stiffened to bursting point. She was right. It was a turn-on.
“Right?” Ramona prompted.
“Right.” Rex took them to the hay-covered floor, where he made equally light work of her T-shirt by dragging it up and off.
For the first time her plump breasts were fully on show to him. With skin soft and creamy, nipples erect and coral tinted, the description “peaches and cream” instantly came to mind.
He gave her body, starting with her spiky hair and ending with her feet, a thorough examination. If she had a plum for a mouth and peaches for breasts, Rex wondered what other fruits would be revealed when she was divested from the rest of her clothing. He removed her Nikes and unfastened her shorts, taking them and her shocking-pink panties off at the same time. He turned her over, and a smile creased his features.
“A watermelon for an ass,” he said as he massaged the firm, well-rounded flesh in his hands, then leaned down and gave each cheek a delicate kiss. His smile widened at the filthy look she shot him when he turned her over again and knelt between her legs.
A waft of fruit mingled with musk hit his nose when he parted the patch of neatly trimmed, moist curls at her pussy. Secretly, he was thrilled. With Stacey being a model, she had, of course, gone with the waxed look. Not that he’d minded or complained, but to him there was something a whole lot sexier and womanly with the natural look. He inched closer and inhaled deeply, trying to place the fruity combination. “All right, I give up,” he said, finally lifting his head. “What’s the fragrance of your shower gel?”
“Forest fruits,” she deadpanned.
He guffawed. “How very apt!” Still laughing, he went down for another sniff. He then gave her pussy from her back passage to her clit a long, wet lick with the flat of his tongue. Her honeyed juices exploded on his taste buds. Ah, sweet sin. Momentarily satisfied and committing her taste to memory, Rex moved up over Ramona and slanted his mouth across hers. She opened for him and, slipping his tongue between her teeth, he explored every little recess with slow, hard strokes then, with a quick flick, invited her tongue to duel with his.
She didn’t disappoint him, her lips just as demanding, her tongue just as bold. Rex couldn’t get enough of her mouth, but there were other parts of her body that deserved equal attention. Like those “peaches and cream” breasts for starters.