The Heart of Falcon Ridge (The McLendon Family Saga, #1)

by D. L. Roan

  “She’ll want you, too, when you stop bein’ an ass and give her a chance.” Matt squirmed, his saddle was feeling more and more like a frozen torture chair to his balls. At least he’d had some release this morning. God had he ever. He didn’t know how Mason had held back and he sure as hell didn’t know why Grey’s balls hadn’t imploded already. It wasn’t just because Claira was so beautiful. This thing inside him that pulled him to her was brutal and relentless.

  Grey grunted a cryptic response and heeled his paint to a brisk trot once they hit the clearing at the top of the bluff. Wondering what Mason and Claira were doing back at the ranch, Matt spurred his horse to a gallop and caught up with his brother, the ache in his groin growing more punishing with every stride. Whatever it was, it had to be more fun than this. Good-time Charlie wasn’t having a very good time, at all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Mason smiled at Claira when she walked into the barn, his hand slowing to a stop on top of the horse he was grooming. When the door closed behind her, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside. His gaze swept over her and her cheeks heated with her blush.

  “Thanks for the tee-shirt.” She said, fingering the hem that hung to her knees.

  “It looks good on you,” he said with a flirty wink.

  She took a few cautious steps, shying away from the big animal between them, watching the horse warily from where she stopped a few stalls down. The beast was enormous. Seeing Mason petting it as if it were no bigger than a dog gave her a strange sense of pride and awe.

  His big hands looked small moving across the massive expanse of its back and shoulders, yet he exuded such a sense of control and mastery in his touch. She wondered if the horse felt the same calm as she did when he touched her.

  “He’s beautiful,” she said, stepping back when the horse turned its head and looked at her.

  “Easy, boy.” Mason crooned to the horse in a soft soothing tone as he slid his hands around the horse’s chest and up his neck. He stepped around to the other side and reached for her hand.

  Claira froze for a second, but something in Mason’s eyes and gentle way eased her anxiety. She reached out and took his hand. He held onto the halter along the horse's head and brought her hand up to the horse’s nose.

  “No sudden movements,” he said calmly. “Just let him smell you.”

  Claira’s heart raced with anxious excitement when the animal brushed his nose against her palm, its hot breath dampening her skin when it took in an inquisitive, powerful sniff and snorted it back out again. The whiskers on his nose tickled her skin as she raised her hand to feel the gray-black fur on his chin.

  “It’s so soft,” she gasped in surprise, running her fingertips along the wrinkled velvet, taking care not to get too close to its mouth. When she dropped her hand, afraid to push her luck, the horse dropped his head and nudged her hand with his snout.

  “He likes that,” Mason laughed and guided her hand back to the horse. “I think you found another new friend.”

  “What’s his name?” she asked, feeling as if she were touching some mystical creature, sensing the leashed power that stirred within.

  Mason rubbed the spot between the horse’s eyes and smiled. “He has an official name as long as my arm that reflects his bloodline, but I’ve yet to find a suitable barn name for him. He has an intriguing personality and I can’t quite pin down a name that fits.”

  Claira lowered her hand and took a cautious step back, her gaze moving over the horse’s massive form. She felt so small and insignificant standing next to two such majestic beings. Something about the way Mason moved around the horse made her stare in awe. It was like he was part of the animal; two halves of a whole.

  Mason caught her watching him and she snapped her gaze back to the horse. “His color is almost like a gray mist, with a little blue mixed in. Like a ghost. It’s very unique.”

  Mason chuckled and picked up a brush from a nearby table. “He’s a roan.” He reached out and took Claira’s hand, placing the thin round comb in her hand.

  “What’s that mean? Is it a breed?” Claira let him guide her to the horse’s side. Placing his hand on top of hers he began stroking the horse’s coat.

  “It’s his coloring,” Mason explained. “He’s technically black, but a rare gene causes his coat to lose its pigment at the end of the strands, turning them white. They’ve never been able to isolate the gene that causes it, so it’s not something that can be controlled with breeding. It’s one of nature’s little surprises that mankind has yet to find a way to manipulate. I think that’s part of what makes him special.”

  Claira studied the way the beast’s color changed as they moved. “It’s like magic.”

  Mason’s free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him as he guided her hand in long, sensuous strokes over the horse’s coat. The rhythm of their movement was timed perfectly with the horse’s deep breaths and it wasn’t long before Claira found herself wrapped in a magical spell.

  Neither of them spoke as they moved. The sounds of the brush raking across the coarse coat and the horse’s strong lungs pumping one deep breath after another were the only sounds filling the large space. She took a deep breath, inhaling the unique scents of horse and hay, closing her eyes as she leaned into Mason’s arms and let him guide her body with his. They moved as one, caressing and flowing together like a dance they’d practiced a hundred times. Magic.

  Claira felt like she was in a dream, weightless and floating along on a cloud, when Mason’s grip on her loosened. She opened her eyes as he lowered her onto a bed of hay in one of the stalls, his warm hands roaming and caressing her skin; just as they’d moved along the horse. His bright blue eyes were darker than they’d been earlier, swirling with desire.

  She reached out and touched his cheek and he turned into her caress, kissing her palm. “I need you,” he whispered softly, his breath tickling her skin. “Can you take me?”

  Her stomach flipped and her heart fluttered. Feeling swept along in a tide she couldn’t control, she lowered her hand and tugged at his belt. She needed him too.

  Claira worked at the buttons on his jeans with both hands, groaning in frustration when the second button snagged. Mason stood and made quick work of freeing his cock. Toeing off his boots, he shed his jeans and boxers in one swift movement then reached for Claira, but she swatted him away.

  “I want to taste you,” she said as she stared in fascination, eye level with his swollen cock. She reached up and ran her finger through the pearly drop of fluid on his tip. Curious, she brought it to her lips, tasting it with the tip of her tongue. His taste was different than she’d expected, salty with a faint bitter tint.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  Mason grabbed his dick and circled the base in a tight fist. “Jesus,” he moaned, torn between the need to sink into her tight pussy for the first time, and the desire to fill her mouth with more of his seed. Did she have any idea how sexy that was?

  He knew he wouldn’t last a minute in that hot, sweet mouth of hers, but he couldn’t deny her pleading expression. He took a step closer and brushed the swollen head across her plump lips. “Lick it, sweetheart. Oh, yeah, that’s it.”

  Claira tilted her head and twirled her tongue around the bulbous head. Mason’s breath hissed through his teeth when her tongue pushed against the hole, retrieving another drop and swirling it around and down his shaft.

  When her tongue flattened out and wiggled along his shaft on her way back to his tip, Mason thought he’d bust a nut if he didn’t get inside her one way or another. “Open up, sweetheart. Wrap your lips over your teeth.” Mason placed his hand on the top of her head and guided his cock over her lips. “Oh, fuck yeah! That’s it. Suck me.”

  Her lips stretched around his girth as he pushed a little deeper and tapped the back of her throat. He palmed her cheeks and tilted her head up a little. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

  When she looked up and saw the ecstasy in his eyes
, a feeling of power overwhelmed her. She was doing that to him, giving him pleasure the way he and Matt had done for her. When he bumped the back of her throat again she tensed, but he didn’t push any further. He pulled back again and she tightened her lips, swirling the tip of her tongue along the underside of his shaft, sucking on the tip as the rounded edge caught on her lips.

  “Ahhh!” Mason cried out and pushed back in, his grip tightening in her hair. “So good. I can’t—! He pulled out of her hot mouth and gathered her up into his arms, consuming her mouth with his own.

  Their mouths met in a ferocious duel, their tongues clashing in a heated battle for more. Their hands were everywhere, pulling and tugging at clothes until they were both naked as the day they were born and tangled together from toes to nose.

  Mason ripped himself from her arms and reached for his jeans, removing a foil packet from his front pocket. He sheathed his cock and then wrapped his trembling body around her again, devouring every part he could get his mouth on.

  “Must get inside you,” he panted into her ear as he reached down and cupped her ass, pulling her up into his arms.

  Claira locked her legs around his hips and rocked her slit against the head of his shaft as he walked to the other side of the stall. Pinning her against the wall, he fisted his cock and placed it at her opening, driving home in one hard thrust, sending cries of ecstasy tearing from them both.

  Mason was blown away by her sensual responses to him. She was on fire, consumed and controlled by a passion so fierce he thought they would burn alive if he didn’t claim her, taste her, make her his. She groaned aloud when he broke their kiss and leaned back to look down at where they joined.

  “Look at us, Claira. Watch as you take me deep inside you.”

  Their breathing quickened as she lowered her forehead against his, watching as he slid out and pushed back in, the friction of his forceful thrusts sending more blood to his already aching cock.

  The sight of what they were doing, being able to feel her every move as he watched himself sink deep inside flung him to the very edge of ecstasy. The musky scents of their arousal, sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin all swirled around him, overwhelming his senses until they all merged into one overpowering need to come inside her.

  “Mason,” she moaned, pleading. “I need...” She gripped his shoulders as he tightened his hold on her bare ass, bucking against him when he slid his fingers down the valley between her cheeks.

  “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I know what you need. Let me give it to you.” Tapping on her back passage, Mason fucked her hard. Pressing her against the wall, he devoured her mouth as it opened on a cry.

  Claira bucked against him again when the tip of his finger pressed into her ass.

  “Oh God. Mason! It burns.” It was too much, not enough. She squeezed her eyes shut, every muscle in her body pulled tight and centered on the place where Mason claimed her over and over.

  He inserted another finger, stretching her with each long stroke. When he felt her inner muscles tighten around his cock and fingers, a primal groan ripped from his chest and echoed through the room.

  “Ah fuck! Sweetheart, I’m coming!” His hips bucked against her uncontrollably, his balls tightening as streaks of hot and cold ran along his spine. His scalp tingled and his toes curled as the first stream of his cum erupted from his cock, filling her over and over as her own orgasmic cries filled his ears.

  She slumped against him, her body trembling around him. She sank her teeth into his sweaty shoulder as another wave of tremors rocked between them. Mason tightened his arm around her to hold her steady. He wasn’t ready to let her go.

  Puffs of hot, steamy air billowed between them as he struggled to catch his breath. They remained there for a while, joined together and panting for each breath before he shifted and pulled back to look at her.

  Claira’s sweaty, pale skin glistened in the soft light that filtered through the wood-planked walls of the stall. Her soft, brown curls clung to the tiny beads of perspiration along her rosy cheeks, one small strand caught in the corner of her mouth. Her brown eyes, glazed with passion, closed on a sigh as she leaned her forehead against his.

  “How do you know?” she asked, her voice laced with an odd mixture of pleasure and uncertainty.

  Mason relaxed his grip. She unhooked her legs and he let her slide down his body until she stood on still-trembling legs. “How do I know what, sweetheart?”

  Claira clung to him, her arms wrapped around his waist, her hands sliding up to feel the slick muscles in his back. She laid her head on his chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat. She couldn’t reconcile the feelings that swelled in her own heart. Surely she couldn’t be in love with him; with them. It was too soon to feel this way about him, or anyone. Wasn’t it?

  “Earlier, you said you never thought about someone other than Sarah capturing your hearts until now. How do you know that? You don’t even know me.”

  Mason gathered her close, his hands roaming her bare back. “Don’t you feel it?” He pulled back and tilted her chin up so that she was forced to look at him. “Do you think it’s like this with just anyone? I can’t deny that we’re little more than strangers, Claira, but there’s something familiar that my soul, our souls recognize in you. We were made to fall in love with you.” When she didn’t respond he lowered his lips to her ear and whispered. “What is your heart, your body telling you, sweetheart?”

  Her head couldn’t justify loving and sleeping with two men, and wanting a third. Her mind was also trying to resurrect the guilt and fear she’d always harbored for getting too close to anyone. If she cared for them they would suffer. She shook her head and forced herself to forget the past.

  Mason was right. There was a sacred place that had opened up and allowed these men to become more than important. They were rapidly becoming a vital part of her being. But, what was she supposed to do? Where do they go from here?

  “Was it like this with Sarah? Is that how you know?”

  Mason shook his head and stepped back from her. Reaching down, he pulled off and discarded the condom, tossing it in a nearby trash bin.

  “Sarah was different. She’d always been a part of our lives.” Mason paused, and then bent to pick up some of their clothes. How did he explain without cheapening what they’d had with Sarah? None of them had felt like this before. How did he explain something that was so new to them, too?

  He handed her clothes to her and bent to step through the legs of his jeans. “Our dads knew the feeling. It happened with our mom. They knew she was the one for them, but with Sarah it was more like a comfortable love rather than an overwhelming calling.”

  Mason slipped on his boots. Swinging his shirt over his shoulder, he studied her as she slipped back into her pants and bra, not even remembering when they’d been discarded. He shook his head as he realized how powerful an effect she had on him. It was mind-blowing to think that less than a full week ago he hadn’t known she existed.

  When she noticed him watching, she blushed and turned her back to him, as if he hadn’t just seen and fucked every beautiful inch of her. He slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist as she pulled her shirt over her head.

  “Don’t hide from me, sweetheart.” He kissed her ear and her neck, pulling her hair from the collar of her shirt. When she sighed and slumped against him in frustration he knew he hadn’t convinced her. “Claira, look at me.” He turned her in his arms and stooped down so they were eye to eye. “You do feel something, am I right?”

  “Yes,” she nodded without hesitation. “But I—”

  “Don’t over think it. Just give us a chance. That’s all I ask.”

  “All of you?”

  “What do you mean?” Mason asked, taking a step back when he noticed the sudden shift in her expression.

  “Grey obviously doesn’t share this mystical feeling you talk about. He’s as much a part of this decision as you and Matt are. This won’t wo
rk without him.”

  He could see her struggle to remain detached from her emotions, but her trembling lower lip gave her away. She was falling for them.

  He stepped up and took her in his arms, capturing her quivering lip in a quick, sensual kiss. “You’re both right and wrong, sweetheart. This won’t work without him, but the good news is that he’s totally overwhelmed by what he feels for you.” His thumbs wiped away the tears that had formed at the outside corners of her eyes. “He’s stubborn, but he’ll come around. And man, when he does, you’d better watch out.” He chuckled.

  Claira froze. “Why?”

  Mason chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. He slid one hand down and caressed her ass, then gave it a playful pat, startling her enough to pull back and give him a questioning glance. He kissed her forehead and moved his other hand down, cupping her ass and pulling her against his groin. “You’ll see soon enough, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What the fuck were you thinking?” Grey shouted at Mason as he and Matt stormed through the front door of the small town Sheriff’s office, his long strides eating up the sidewalk as he stomped toward Mason’s truck.

  “What was I thinking? I’m not the one who just got his ass arrested for assault. You two are lucky Tom Grunion dropped the charges against you.”

  “She shouldn’t be home alone, Mace!” Grey grumbled as he reached up and caught the wad of keys Mason tossed him from across the hood. “She shouldn’t be there at all! I can’t believe you let her go!”

  “What was I supposed to do, tie her up?” Mason caught the heated flash of approval in Grey’s eyes but ignored it. “After waiting on you guys for two hours after dinner, she wanted to go home. I checked the house before I left. She’s fine, which is more than I can say for the two of you! What the hell happened?”