1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve

by Alexandra Ivy

  “Maybe if we had, you’d see that yours is completely blank. You always come to my place, which is great because bein’ with you is the high point of my day. Since you have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to do chores, wouldn’t it make sense for you to ask me to spend the night here sometimes? But you’ve never asked me. Not one time.”

  I stared at him, absolutely poleaxed.

  “I’d even gone so far as to justify your lack of an invite into your house and your bed as you avoiding a confrontation with Wyn. Bein’s you ranch together, I imagine he’s here early in the morning. If he saw my Jeep, then you’d have to confess you’re fucking a guy he can’t stand.”

  “How do you know that Wyn can’t stand you?”

  “Sutton told me.” He snorted. “But it’s never had a damn thing to do with Wyn. It has everything to do with Mick.”

  Goddammit. He could be so self-righteous…even when he was dead wrong. I got in his face. “I don’t need this shit from you today.”

  “Tough. You’re getting it. I’m tired of avoiding the ghost in the room. Or maybe I should say the damn ghost still living in your house.”

  He did not just say that.

  “You’re an asshole. And a fucking clueless one at that. Go home, Breck.” Fuming, I spun on my heel and walked out.

  From that first night, being with him had made me so happy that was all I focused on—getting to him as soon as my workday ended, seeing that special dirty smile as he leaned in the doorway of his motor home waiting for me. I hadn’t cared where we were together, just that we were together.

  I stepped outside. The gloomy angry sky fit my mood. The rain had gone from a steady drizzle to a torrential downpour.

  I’d barely made it fifteen feet when a hand landed on my shoulder.

  “Cres. Wait.”

  I turned to face him. “What?”

  Even soaked to the skin, standing in the rain, Breck didn’t look like a drowned rat; he looked like a male model at a photo shoot for a vacation in the tropics. Water streamed down the angles and planes of his face. Tiny droplets sparkled on the ends of his long eyelashes. His hair, without his cowboy hat to smash it down, had become a riot of black curls.

  Yeah, he’s gorgeous, but he’s about to tear into you without just cause, so focus.

  “Don’t shut me down when I finally have the balls to admit that I’m jealous of him. He gets a place of honor in your house and I get the barn.”

  “Breck. What the hell are you even talkin’ about?”

  “I’m talkin’ about you messing around with me in the barn because you don’t want to bring me into your house—the sacred space you shared with him.”

  “Sacred space? That doesn’t have fuck-all to do with anything. I wanted to mess around in the barn with you because nothin’ like that ever happened with him.”

  I shouldn’t have relished his expression of shock, but I did.

  “I’m sick to death of keeping all this inside and worrying I’m tarnishing his memory by admitting the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “What you and I have? Passion, need, lust…I never had with him. Mick wasn’t spontaneous or adventurous. It drove me crazy that he kept his military attitude even when it came to sex. We fucked on the bed in the bedroom—because that’s where you were supposed to fuck. We might’ve had sex in the shower once, but he never would’ve blown me in the barn or the kitchen or the truck. He wouldn’t have let me suck him off on the first fuckin’ date, outside with a thousand people partying in a tent behind us. He had some rigid ideas about roles and refused to consider other options.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he bottomed. Period.”

  His eyes went wide with shock. “Mick never fucked you?”

  I shook my head. “He said ‘Not my thing’ and that was that. We fought about it, but I knew he wouldn’t change his mind.”

  “So you just accepted it?”

  I looked away.

  “Answer me.”

  “I accepted it then. I wouldn’t now.”

  “Fuckin’ look at me when you’re talkin’ to me.”

  My defiant gaze met his. “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth.”

  “The truth that I settled for Mick? Because it was easy and comfortable? Maybe I did. But it didn’t feel like that at the time because I loved him.” I ignored the pained look on Breck’s face and soldiered on. “And bein’ with you is different in every way I needed it to be. Nothing…no one…has ever come close to giving me what you do. No boundaries, no limits, and no goddamned way is it fair that I have to give it up.”

  “You are confusing the fuck outta me.”

  “What don’t you understand? I don’t want you to go. You know why you didn’t hear from me this week? Besides the fact I was too damn tired to even take my boots off when I stumbled into my house at night? Because I was afraid you’d already moved on.”

  “Moved on,” he repeated. “To another guy? Fuck you if you think I’d do that when—”

  “Literally moved on, in your motor home, tooling down the road like you repeatedly warned me you planned to do as soon as your teaching job ended.”

  “I would never do that to you!” he yelled over the thunder.

  “Bullshit. You did it to me in Denver. No note, no nothin’. You just hitched up your horse trailer and you were gone, Breck.”

  “I am not that guy anymore. And I’m still here.”

  “For how long?” I demanded. “Because I want this to be long-term with you—”

  “Since when?” he demanded back. “You’ve never indicated anything has changed from the first time you told me about Mick. You’ve maintained that you never want another relationship.”

  “I didn’t think I did, but fuck, you’re the one who told me that us fucking made it a fucking relationship! So we’ve been in one from the start. And I don’t want to give it up. Ever. Do you hear me? I want it all from you, Breck, not just sex. I’ll buy medicated powder for your itchy feet if that’s what it’ll take to keep you here with me—”

  His mouth crashed down on mine.

  He devoured me.

  Breck kissed me so often I thought I’d known every type of kiss in his arsenal.

  But nothing that had been between us before had prepared me for this: his brutal, beautiful possession and his onslaught of emotion that transcended words.

  I clung to him as if my life depended on it, because in a way it did.

  When we came up for air, Breck curled his hands around my face. “Right here in the wind and the rain, in the mud, on my knees and on yours, I’m gonna give you what you want, Cres, and then I’m gonna take what I need.”

  “Breck, wait—”

  But he didn’t hear me—or didn’t give a damn—because he was already on his knees, working my jeans open, yanking the wet denim down to my ankles.

  Then his mouth hovered above my cock for the briefest moment.

  I loved watching him blow me, seeing that beautiful face lost in bliss as my dick tunneled in and out of his hungry, sucking mouth.

  He swallowed my cock in one greedy, suctioning pull, groaning like a starving man, and then it was on.

  No teasing.

  No finesse.

  Just speed.

  Lots and lots of speed.

  I fisted his black silk curls and held on.

  More thunder rumbled. Rain continued to beat at us. The wind rose and fell.

  I came as quickly and with as much force as the storm.

  Immediately Breck brought me to the ground in a show of dominance.

  We rolled. Him on top, then me. Our bodies were bucking and grinding together as we fought each other.

  Fighting for deeper kisses.

  Fighting for a better position to taste and touch and bite.

  I pulled his hair when he sucked on my neck.

  His fingernails gouged my back when I gifted him with the same openmouthed suck mark.

&nbs
p; Rain pounded down.

  Thunder pounded above us.

  Breck flipped me onto my knees and elbows, lifting my ass into the air, using a combination of spit and water as lube and then he was pounding into me.

  I’d never been fucked with the elements leaving as much of a mark on me as my lover.

  The air crackled—not with lightning but with the energy flowing between us.

  He roared when he came.

  I let him have his beastly moment.

  Because I was going to get mine.

  And I did.

  I pushed him back, spun him around and pinned him down, driving my cock into his ass with the same driving force as the rain.

  My body should’ve been cold after spending this much time in the rain, but I radiated heat.

  And power.

  God, I fucking loved this explosion of need between us that had us fucking in the mud.

  After having this…I couldn’t ever go back to not having it.

  Breck bore down as I plowed into him.

  One, two, three strokes and I erupted.

  Water dripped into my mouth when I tipped my head back and howled to the sky.

  As I caught my breath I half-expected—half-hoped?—Breck would be ready to go at me again.

  But he grunted and bumped his ass into my thighs as a hint to climb off.

  I pulled out and flopped on my back, closing my eyes.

  Gravel crunched beside me and then it was quiet.

  Breck spoke first. “You okay?”

  “Fuck, no.” I paused. “Are you?”

  “Fuck, no.”

  I smiled and figured he was smiling too.

  “Ask me again,” I said a few moments later.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  He snickered.

  I said, “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  I’d like to say we were smart enough to come out of the rain after that, but we weren’t.

  We didn’t move.

  Maybe because we couldn’t move.

  “You howled,” he said almost conversationally.

  “Your beast roars, mine howls. No fucking judgment, dude.”

  “Christ, I think I just fell in love with you.”

  “Ditto.” I groaned. “I’ve never said ditto in my life.”

  Breck said, “Ditto.”

  That word struck me as wrong and funny. And I started laughing—the hold your gut, slap your knee, wipe your eyes kind of laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  That almost set me off again. “Besides the fact we’re both laying in a puddle on the driveway with our jeans around our knees, after we fucked each other so thoroughly during a thunderstorm that we can’t even fucking crawl into the house?”

  Next thing I knew Breck started laughing as hard as I was.

  After the hilarity died down and we still faced the sky, our dicks flapping in the wind, raindrops spattering around us, Breck reached for my hand.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  Still, we didn’t move. Weird that it almost seemed…peaceful.

  “You were wrong,” I said after a bit.

  “About what?”

  “About my house bein’ a sanctuary filled with memories of Mick.” I turned my head and looked at him to find he was already looking at me. “Mick never lived here.”

  “I thought you lived together.”

  “We did. Just not in this house. I had a trailer. After Mick died…I got rid of it. Then I bought this. It’s one of those pre-fab modular homes that’s built on site, but I still ended up doin’ a ton of work on it—”

  Breck loomed over me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You never asked.” I brushed his sodden hair off his forehead. “So it really was just a stupid oversight that you’ve never been in my house or in my bed. Would you like to come in and see my place?”

  “I’d love to.” He smiled and then he winced. “You have a first aid kit? Because I’m pretty sure there’s gravel embedded in my knees.”

  “Yeah, my elbows are feelin’ a little raw.” I kissed his smirking mouth. “But it was worth it.”

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter Nine

  Breck

  Somehow we dragged our sodden, love-drunk asses into the house.

  I didn’t look around. I’d have plenty of time for that later. Years, I hoped.

  Neither of us lingered beneath the spray of hot water when we had the option of curling up in Cres’s warm, dry bed.

  Probably made me a prick, but I had a surge of satisfaction knowing I was the first—and only—man Cres would share this space with.

  No surprise we dozed off after the intensity of the storm we’d dealt with.

  But as soon as Cres stirred, half-awake in that sleepy-eyed state, I took him again. Face to face, our hands clasped together above his head.

  It was a sweet reconnection.

  It was a necessity that I could show him my loving side I’d never shared with another man. He accepted that part of me without a moment’s hesitation. I whispered the words I’d held inside my heart and he whispered them back with equal conviction.

  I came when he did, my name spilling from his lips as I poured everything of myself into him—my heart, my body and my soul.

  Afterward, Cres had sprawled on his stomach beside me.

  I couldn’t help but trace the scratches I’d left on his back. “So…it’s later.”

  “And?”

  “And…can we talk about a couple of things?”

  “Of course I’ll let you fix supper in my kitchen. In fact, head out there right now and get crackin’.”

  I pinched his ass and he swore at me.

  “Fine. What’s on your mind?”

  “The first session ended at Grade A day before yesterday.”

  “I know. What’s that mean?”

  “I’m not sure if I’m cut out to teach, but there’s no rush for me to sign a contract.”

  “Why not?”

  “The Gradskys are numbers people. They have to assess and reassess, so they’re delaying the second session until next spring. In the meantime, I did sign on to head up the soil prep and organic certification process for Stirling’s organic farming experiment.”

  Cres pushed up onto his elbow. “Really? I thought you were done with farming.”

  I shrugged. “I liked farming. I didn’t like workin’ with my family. So I’ll be using my Ag degree for the first time since I graduated.”

  “That’s exciting for you.”

  “But?”

  He smirked. “But I’ll take shit from my brothers for bein’ involved with a farmer.”

  “Maybe they’ll cut you some slack when they hear I’m offering to be your ranch hand until Wyn is back in action.” I swept my thumb across the dark circle beneath his eye. “You can’t continue to do this alone, Cres. If it’s not me, you’ll have to hire someone anyway, right?”

  “Probably. But won’t you be busy enough with your new job?”

  “Macon and Stirling said I can set my own hours. I figured some days you’d need more help than others. On the slower days, I’ll head to Grade A.”

  “But you’ll be here at night?”

  “Yep.” I pecked him on the mouth. “I’m lookin’ forward to sleeping with you the whole night.”

  “Me, too.” Cres ducked his head, acting as if he was concentrating on smoothing out my chest hair.

  “What else is on your mind?”

  “If you’re not workin’ on Sunday, would you wanna go to Denver with me? I need to see for myself how Wyn is holding up and I want to meet Truman.”

  “I’d love to come along and let your family know that I’m not goin’ anywhere. Think Wyn will be okay with us bein’ together and with me helping out on the Grant Ranch?”

  Cres looked up at me. “He’d better be okay with it since Mel worked as his ranch hand for a couple of we
eks and that’s how they ended up playin’ house for real. This is just as real to me. Plus, I want you to meet my Mom and Dad.” He snickered. “Our nephews will wear you out. They are wild. It’s so fun riling them up and then handing them back to their folks. I’m betting Tru will be the same way.”

  Everything he’d said after our nephews was hazy.

  He had no idea the power those words had for me.

  Our.

  He was mine and I was his.

  I almost felt my feet getting heavier, as if they were finally ready to set down roots.

  “Breck? You okay?”

  I looked at him and grinned. “Fuck, yeah. Never been better.”

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Lorelei James, discover Roped In, Stripped Down, and Tripped Out.

  About Lorelei James

  Lorelei James is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary erotic romances in the Rough Riders, Blacktop Cowboys, and Mastered series. She also writes dark, gritty mysteries under the name Lori Armstrong and her books have won the Shamus Award and the Willa Cather Literary Award. She lives in western South Dakota.

  Connect with Lorelei in the following places:

  www.LoreleiJames.com

  www.Facebook.com/LoreleiJamesAuthor

  www.Twitter.com/LoreleiJames

  www.Instagram.com/LoreleiJamesAuthor

  Discover More Lorelei James

  Roped In

  A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

  Click here to purchase.

  Ambition has always been his biggest downfall...until he meets her.

  World champion bulldogger Sutton Grant works hard on the road, but his quiet charm has earned the nickname “The Saint” because he's never been the love 'em and leave 'em type with the ladies. When he’s sidelined by an injury, he needs help keeping his horse in competition shape, but he fears trying to sweet-talk premier horse trainer London Gradsky is a losing proposition--because the woman sorta despises him.

  London is humiliated when her boyfriend dumps her for a rodeo queen. What makes the situation worse? She’s forced to see the lovebirds on the rodeo circuit every weekend. In an attempt to save face, London agrees to assist the notoriously mild, but ruggedly handsome Sutton Grant with his horse training problem on one condition: Sutton has to pretend to be her new boyfriend.