I know how much I had to give and I can’t believe she took it all…all of it.
And the thought of that, the hunger in her eyes and the matching famine in my belly hits me right in the chest, letting me know that now it’s time for this wolf to feast on what’s his…for the first time.
CHAPTER 8
Harmony
Maverick’s hands grab me forcefully by the hips and he spins me sideways and over onto my back on a blanket I didn’t know was there. He must have just brought it…and the wild animal that’s coming out from inside him is threatening to bring me right into a climax of my own.
I can still taste his cream, feel it covering the front of my teeth no matter how many times I run my tongue over them. The salty spooge tasted even better than I imagined, because dreaming about it can only take you so far…seeing what I did to this man, how much pleasure I gave him in real life, in the moment, means everything.
And the look in his eye right now says he’s about to eat every single part of me.
His hands yank down my jeans, apparently no need to unbutton them as he shimmy’s them down the sides of my hips.
My thighs feel the cool breeze mixed with the heat of the fire, but it’s the fire inside that has my skin boiling a bright shade of red.
“What are you doing?” I know the answer, but I want to hear it from his lips. My ears need to hear it and my entire being needs to process it and feel the sensation it brings.
“You know what I’m doing,” he smirks as his eyes move from mine to my white, lace panties and back to my eyes again.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Good,” he growls. “Because I want you to know exactly what’s about to go down here.”
“Go down?” I wink.
“You’re damn right. I’m going to go down on your incredible peach and swallow it whole.”
“How do you know it’s not going to swallow you whole?”
His nostrils flare as he stares at my panties, like a kid on Christmas day savoring the moment he’s going to rip off the wrapping paper and see in front of his very eyes, what he’s wanted his entire life.
Just as much as I can see how that’s going to make a switch inside Maverick flip, I know it’s going to do the same to me.
“It is going to swallow me whole. That’s exactly what I’m looking forward to, and that’s why I’m going to tie you down and show you who you belong to.”
“Tie me down? You don’t have a rope.”
“You wanna bet?”
“I—”
Before I can get the words out, in one motion reminiscent of a caveman, he yanks my panties down to mid thigh before just physically saying ‘fuck it,’ as his fists grab the fabric and he pulls them to the sides, ripping them clean in half and perfectly exposing my pussy directly to him…a perfect path for him to take me.
And he wastes no time reaching behind the log and pulling out a freaking rope and swiftly swooping it around my wrists before I even know what’s happening.
“Oh my god, Maverick.”
The thought of being tied up while he eats me out has my mind racing a mile a minute. I feel my heart punching against my ribcage and any smirks, attempts at humor or wordplay, or anything of the like are immediately the furthest thing from my mind.
I had no idea he had a rope back there, let alone that he’d use it.
And most importantly how much I’d like it.
“Mine,” he growls.
“Yours,” I whimper, sending his face right into my lap.
His flattened tongue licks right up my crease and my back arches as my head rolls from side to side and then in circles like I’m some sort of wrestler practicing neck bridges on a mat.
But the only bridge here is the one from his mouth to my pussy that’s joining us in a way I’ve wanted for so damn long.
“Maverick,” I exhale.
“Ummm,” he growls into my folds, causing my ass cheeks to tighten as I struggle to free my hands of the rope even though I have no idea why.
It’s so damn erotic and I know there’s no way I’m freeing myself from any knot that Maverick’s tied…nor do I want to.
Just the thrill of it, the thoughts it sends through my head, is all that I need.
And to imagine that I’ve got all this mental stimulation and the oral stimulation…it’s too much.
“I’m gonna finish, Mav,” I moan.
“No!” he demands, his face coming off my pussy. I look down my body at him, seeing his fierce face staring right back up at me. “Not until I’m done. Not until I say so. You understand me, woman?”
I nod.
“Say it.”
“Yes,” I breathe out hard, sending him right back to work on my clit.
I bite down hard on my lower lip, tasting blood, as I try and breathe in through my nose.
It’s no use.
I open my mouth and suck in as much of the fresh country air as I can, but even in the middle of nowhere, a fire nearby and a breeze, I can still smell one thing clearly.
Sex.
I don’t know if it’s him, or me, or more than likely both. And even though I’ve never had sex, or made love, it smells just like I thought it would when it comes to us.
Hot and heavy and thick as thieves.
And this man’s not going to steal my virginity, I’m going to give it to him on a silver platter as a gift to both of us, and more so me, judging by the way he’s devouring the fruit between my legs.
He moans against my flesh as his tongue literally lassoes my clit, twisting it, holding it down, and then tapping it with the tip.
“Maverick, I can’t control…”
“Now,” he rumbles into my pussy and I unleash on his command.
I feel his tongue pierce my hole, sliding up inside me as I unload on it like it’s a red carpet laid out for me and me alone.
My hips buck and my leg kicks. My toes curl in my boots as my arms shake as my body quivers like I’m possessed.
And I am.
I’m his, and there’s no going back.
Good…because he’s mine just as much as I belong to him.
Forever just started…right fucking now.
CHAPTER 9
Harmony
Wednesday, July 3rd, 2019
“Wow, was I ever knocked out,” Hank says as he stretches his arms to the ceiling, stepping down from the last step and into the living room in the morning. “Anything happen last night?”
Maverick and I exchange a super quick look and I choke back a smile. “Nah, just another quiet night down on the farm.”
“Makes sense without me to liven things up.”
Maverick shakes his head as Hank makes his way into the kitchen. I hear the hot coffee being poured from a pot into his cup and Maverick tries to use the sound as a cover to slap my ass.
I grit my teeth, turn and raise a playful fist to him…but I can’t help but smile.
We take separate seats in the living room just as Hank walks in.
“What was that sound?”
“Beef jerky.”
“Beef jerky?”
“Yeah, watch.” Maverick takes a stick and slaps it against his forearm. Surprisingly it does have somewhat of a similar tone to it. I want to laugh, looking at that dried up piece of meat. I definitely thought my ass was a lot juicer and livelier…at least that’s how Maverick described it last night when he spanked me for being what he called a bad girl.
He said I was bad for keeping my feelings all to myself. We could have already been together by now, to which I reminded him as soon as I turned eighteen I did come looking for him, or at least put myself in his path.
The age thing definitely took the wind out of his sails. He’s a throwback, old-school, and as much as he’s shown just how much he cares about me I know he cares about the safety of children too…and no way would he have entertained the idea of being with me if I was under age.
But he did entertain the idea of having kids…
with me.
It was just in passing, but he did mention it. I liked that he said it so casually, under the moonlight, as if it was a foregone conclusion.
I’m glad it is for him, because it sure as heck is for me.
“That’s weird,” Hank says.
“Why?”
“It almost sounds like someone slapping someone’s ass.”
“Slapping someone’s ass?” Maverick raises an eyebrow and I feel my body sinking into the cushions below and behind me.
“Yeah, I guess that’s not really possible though…is it?”
“Definitely not,” Maverick jumps in. “Keep your hands to yourself, buddy. Nobody’s putting a hand on my backside.”
Hank’s gaze lazily drifts from Maverick to me and then back. My heart’s thumping and I really get the impression that Maverick’s song and dance around his question wasn’t exactly the reassuring answer that Hank was after.
“How’s the coffee?”
Hank takes a sip, letting the thought go…or so I thought.
“Doesn’t taste like yours usually does. Did you brew it?”
“I did,” I say quickly.
“You drink coffee, sis?”
“No, but I wanted to help out. I am a guest and all so it’s good manners.”
“Good manners. Right.”
Now I’m pissed. He’s giving me some sort of look as if to say, “Is that why you pleased the host while I was knocked out last night?” But I’m not going to acknowledge it. That will only confirm his suspicions.
“Well, I guess there are a lot of ways to display manners, and probably lots of ways, other than coffee, to get energy in the morning.”
“You got something to say…buddy?” Maverick says, his gaze steeling.
“Sorry, maybe I’m just disappointed about yesterday and I’m taking it out on my two…partners.”
“Maybe you are.”
“Well, as my partners, and family, I hope you can understand where I’m coming from.”
“I understand that we should all go out for some fresh air. I think it will do us all some good,” I say.
“I’d say so,” Hank says, but just stands there, waiting for the two of us to go first.
Is he saying, with his body language, that he doesn’t want to leave the two of us alone?
Does he know what I think he knows?
Was he really asleep all that time or maybe, just maybe, he got up and looked out the window or something.
Maverick and I were careful to be back in our respective rooms by dawn in case the sunrise woke Hank up. It didn’t, but it sure looks like he’s completely awake to what’s going on between Maverick and I…and that makes it very clear why he’s acting like he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
Getting a chance to sleep with Maverick just became that much more challenging.
CHAPTER 10
Maverick
Friday, July 5th, 2019
Hank shoves two fingers into the lower part of his mouth and whistles loud enough the whole parade can hear him, despite the clapping for the parade marshall.
This year they picked Amber Marshall, one of the stars of the CBS television drama called Heartland. Apparently she’s known as “the horse-whispering miracle girl.”
Amber Marshall is the parade marshall...go figure. They couldn’t have picked someone with a better surname in a million years, which just heightens my desire for Harmony to “pick” mine, to be mine, and for more than just a million years. Forever.
In a strange way, this Amber Marshall woman, who’s the parade marshall, almost reminds me of this one weird author Harmony was telling me about...calls herself Flora Ferrari. She uses an Italian pen name, but from what Harmony can gather she’s actually a hop, skip, and a jump across the Adriatic...not even in Italy at the moment. You’d think she’d write fast-paced Italian mafia stories, or maybe even scientific books about plant life, but Harmony says she always gets sidetracked by Russian guys and things like that from time to time. Beats the heck outta me. Not my thing. And I never get sidetracked by any other woman on this planet. Heck, to me they don’t even exist. Harmony is the only one for me.
As nice of a person this year’s parade marshall, Amber, seems to be, not that I know her or have ever watched the show, there’s only one horse-whispering miracle girl in my book…Harmony.
And she’s the star of this drama right now that’s currently playing out between her brother and I.
I look over and watch Hank whistle again as his body wobbles just before he polishes off another Molson. “Look, Mav. Butch and Billy are up in the V.I.P. booth and they’re waving us up.
Hank’s right. How in the world two of our competitors, and two self-admitted “friends in low places,” made their way up into the V.I.P. is beyond me…and I’m not about to let this opportunity pass me by.
“Let’s go, buddy,” Hank says, a smile so big you’d swear he just sold a breeding horse for a couple million bucks…not that either of us has breeding horses, but if we did, would that ever be a payday.
“I’m pooped out after last night.” I’m not, but I was full of energy last night for the sneak a peek night the day before the actual opening parade for Stampede. Yesterday, as with every year, they opened up the grounds early for a few hours and let people snoop around a bit…which we took full advantage of.
I just hope Hank’s too drunk to snoop around tonight…because I’ve got a plan.
“Cowboy up, Mav! Stampede’s only once a year. Let’s go!”
“I know, but—”
“Weren’t you the one who was saying all our rowdy friends have settled down? Now look at you, tired guy.”
“I know, it’s just—”
“Whatever,” Hank says before waving me off and moving quickly toward Butch and Billy’s area.
Thank god.
I use the opportunity to slide out, knowing Harmony’s back home working on her riding and penning.
Earlier, when I suggested to Hank that we all do the same, as a team, he wasn’t hearing it. No way he wanted to miss opening night…and right now all I can think about is opening the door when I get home and seeing my woman there waiting for me.
I move quickly to my Ford F150, completely sober of course, and drive home. Leaving the Stampede is easy as pie right now. The line to get in is a mess. Nobody in their right mind is trying to leave at the pinnacle of the parade…except me.
That’s because I’m not in my right mind. I haven’t been able to concentrate or think of anything but Harmony since I first laid eyes on her just four short days ago.
And four days might be a short amount of time, but for the first time in my life I understand what it’s like when you meet the one. I don’t need any time to think this over, to date, or any of that stuff. No time in beating around the bush.
I want a ring on her finger and a baby in her belly pronto, and I’m gonna make it happen.
I turn up the radio when my favorite Garth Brooks tune comes on and for the first time in years I catch myself thumping my thumb against the steering wheel and singing along.
I should act like a grown man, but to hell with it. I go all in, rolling down the window and belting out the tune. I don’t care about anything right now…only her, and the way she makes me feel has me doing things I never would and daggumit if it doesn’t feel great.
And what’s going to feel the best is when I claim her for the first time on the night of the fourteenth. I already booked us a swanky hotel on the outskirts of town. The fourteenth is when Tim McGraw performs to close down this year’s Stampede. The whole province will be there…except the two of us. We’ll have that hotel all to ourselves, at least until the wee hours of the morning when the revelers start coming back.
How am I gonna deal with Hank then?
I still haven’t figured that out, but there’s no way I can just say I’m tired again…especially after playing that card tonight.
At some point, if not already, the swi
tch is gonna flip and he’s gonna remember that Harmony is at my place and that’s exactly where I’m headed.
Sure, he’ll get a ride home later. There are plenty of our buddies who can drop him off, although I bet most of them are drunk too.
Brother's Canadian Cowboy Friend (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 107) Page 5