by Jillian Neal
Despite the abject horror drowning her, he gave her a gentle chuckle and settled her nerves. "Attachment, huh?"
"Yes. What happens then? But I'm doing it again, aren't I? Asking the wrong questions. The ones I'm not supposed to ask."
"Hey," he released her chin and laid her back on his chest, "remember what I said. You ask me anything you want to ask anytime you want to ask it. I'm not going to let us fall into attachment." He spoke the word like a curse. "I know you don't think it matters, but you have your whole life ahead of you. I'm just an old cattle rancher. I've got no intention of ever letting you give up anything for me. I have a plan."
Anxiety twisted up her spine. What if his plan was to end this now? Or tomorrow? Or right after they slept together? That didn't sound like the Ford Holder she knew but…."What's your plan? And shouldn't I have some say if this plan involves me?" she demanded.
"Simmer down now, baby girl. If you don't like the plan, I'm willing to compromise. I just like being with you. I like spending time with you. There. That's it. So, I figure if you like spending time with me, too, we could just spend as much time as we can with each other. When it's time for you to go on and live your life, I'd never do anything to try and stop you."
What if I want you to stop me? The plea in her head went from a whisper to a roar in a split second. What if the thing I really want is for you to want me to be here forever? She cleared her throat wishing she could also clear her mind. "I love spending time with you. I just don't want to hurt you just because...I don't want to..." she couldn't tell him that she didn't want to be alone because what an awful thing to say to someone she cared about so much, "hurt you," came out again.
But again, he saw right through her lies. "I was in a marriage that made me feel entirely alone for years. Trust me, I don't mind being alone, but I like being with you a whole lot better. Let's just enjoy it while it lasts. No pressure. Okay?"
"You're sure?"
"Never been more certain of anything."
Callie nodded against the Holder brand tattoo on his arm, letting it settle her. "Okay," she gave the only real answer that would suffice because for the first time in this relationship Ford Holder was lying. She could feel it. She just didn't know if he was aware of it yet.
"Let's get some sleep, okay?" he spoke softly.
"Do you have to get up so early since it's storming?"
"We're not riding in this and the mud'll be a bitch when we finally do get out in it, but for right now I'm gonna hold my girl and see if I can't get her back to sleep."
"Are you sure you want to sleep?" Her hand skated down his chest, wrapped around his cock, and teased until he rose mightily to the occasion.
"Fuck, baby." He half growled. "You getting needy again?"
"What if I am?" If he wanted to lie to himself and to her about whatever this relationship was going to inevitably be, then she refused to be anything but honest over what she wanted. "I want all of you. I want to watch you enjoy me. I want to see this rough side you keep warning me about. I want...this." He wanted to enjoy their time together. Fine. She wanted him to make her forget New York, and Nina, and Derrick, and everything else but him. She wanted his claim so strong inside of her she never doubted being right where she was. If he filled her pussy to overflowing, maybe it wouldn't leave room in her mind for anything else.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Guilt layered like bricks in Ford's gut. She didn't want to hurt him. Christ, she was still trying to save him. That wasn't her job. He wasn't going to allow her to spare him the pain. They couldn't stop this thing any more than they could hold back a freight train. It wasn't even worth it to try. They'd already fallen into attachment. He almost laughed out loud at her word choice. Nothing hurt like love. He'd already learned that. He just needed to keep her from having to live it.
He just couldn't let her know that any more than he could stand to think that she'd given up anything for him. If she wanted to go off to New York and be some kind of kickass photographer then he would never stand in her way. He wanted that for her. Wanted her to have every good thing her life could possibly offer her. There was no way he was one of those things. He'd fucked up the only life he had when he was twenty-two years old. There were no redos. No one got a second chance to do it all over again. That just wasn't how life worked. She still had a life left to live. He wouldn't keep her from it.
But he also wouldn't ever deny her anything she wanted, and right then she wanted him. He rolled her under his body, sank his lips to hers to capture that sweet little gasp she always gave him, and let his cock languish between the lace-trapped folds of her pussy. She was so soft against his solid strength.
Every protective instinct he possessed sizzled through his musculature. His mouth took her tongue hostage, and he slipped his cock back and forth tempting her clit with the lace. A needy little moan spilled into his mouth before he finally let her have breath. "That what you're wanting, honey? You needing me to enjoy what's mine for however long this lasts?"
"Please." She clawed at his back now unaware of her own hunger. Sexiest fucking thing in the world.
He sat up on his knees and slipped that thong down her legs. "Oh honey, I'm going to enjoy it. I'm going to make you hurt with how much I enjoy you." He knew precisely what she wanted to hear.
"Oh god, yes," she whimpered.
Her sweet little body tensed under his. Fading tan lines highlighted precisely where he wanted his mouth, but he laid back over her letting his cock revel in her swollen need. Wet heat coated him just from his own brand of filthy talking. "I know, don't I, honey? I know what you want to hear." My god, they were going to set his sheets on fire. Hell, not just his sheets, his bed, his house, his yard, his whole fucking life. It took him a half second to understand that if what was left of his life all went up in flames, she'd be more than worth it. She rolled her cocktease body against his, so anxious for it she drove him wild. "You're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
That got him a frustrated whimper as she attempted to lure his cock right where she wanted it—deep inside of her. He throbbed against her. If he had to give her up at some point, then he was going to give himself enough memories of her to get him through the endless lonely nights that taunted their horizon.
She continued to thrust against him. Impatient little thing. So fucking needy for him. Nothing was as intoxicating as that. "I'm gonna make it feel better, but you need to remember the rule."
Her eyes closed, and she all but purred out, "I take what you give me. I need it."
"I know, baby. But I want a taste of that sweet cream you make so good for me first. Been craving it for hours. You're gonna take my tongue before you take my cock."
He let her feel every rough scrape of his body as he moved down hers, let the friction push her closer to the brink. God, he'd missed this. The sky had lightened just enough to allow him to see her pouty slit. The ripe musk of her arousal filled his lungs—thick, warm, and spiked with wild abandon.
Impatience churned through his veins. He'd always loved the flavor of woman, and he knew Callie's nectar would be sweeter, better, more than any he'd known before. As he descended her body, he noticed something he'd missed in his truck. A naughty little chain of wildflowers she'd had inked from the tender spot where her leg met her pussy all the way around her hip. "Bet that hurt didn't it, sugar?" He spun his tongue along the chain, reveling in the sweet and salty flavors of her skin.
She shuddered and bucked in his face. "Do you like it?" she murmured, half question, half flirtation.
"It's a fucking temptation I'll never be able to resist just like the rest of you. Makes me wish I'd been there to kiss it better for you." He slid his open-mouthed kisses to the thick curve of her ass and nipped. "Makes me crazy that someone else did that, took what's mine." He pinned her thighs wide open and let his tongue bathe the slippery wet heat coating her.
The only portion of his brain that hadn't taken up residence in his lower head wondered if
it made him an asshole that he loved that she was almost bare. She'd waxed recently. He hoped to Christ himself she hadn't done it for her ex. Pale, tender hairs barely covered her, and he indulged the silky folds until she whimpered for more. A harsh tremble shook through her as she half gasped and half groaned out an exhalation of pleasure. Oh, fuck yeah. "Hold yourself open for me. Show me where you want my tongue."
With another low moan, she complied. The lips of her pussy were so wet they slipped through her fingers. He bit back another order to hold them wider and gave her a minute to be able to separate them enough to reveal that sweet little pearl. He sank his tongue to her timid clit and coaxed it into his mouth. She thrashed against his face.
Ford gave her things she craved but refused to admit even to herself. His fingers dug into her hips, rough and primal in his claim. He pinned her to the mattress as he indulged her clit with rapid lashes of his hungry tongue. She couldn't move. She never wanted to. She prayed he would fuck her with that same rough, primal intensity and that there'd be marks of his ownership imprinted on her skin. She needed something concrete to prove to herself that he was real, that this was real. It was all too close to the dark fantasies she allowed herself when she had a moment to be entirely alone. The fantasies were often how she kept the lonesome at bay. She'd imagine some rough, rugged man who was only ever satisfied by her surrender.
"You taste so fucking good," rasped from Ford. "So sweet all for me."
Callie was incapable of anything but soft, reedy moans. Every pulse point in her body timed itself to the ministrations of his tongue, the juxtaposition of his rough stubble against her soft thighs and pussy, and the obvious pleasure he found in her.
Pressure built constantly between her legs. God. She had to move or scream or...something. It was going to tear her apart. It was too much, too good. She clawed at his sheets, seeking purchase but finding only his strong grip on her thighs keeping her safe. He swirled his tongue and backed off ripping the orgasm from her grasp.
"Ford," she choked out his name.
"No, baby. Not yet. Not 'til I say. Not 'til you beg."
"Please." She trembled in his arms. Other pleading words tried to leave her lips but were mired in the ecstasy that pulsed through her.
"We're gonna find your edge, sugar. This ain't it. But when I find it, it's gonna be all mine. You're gonna learn to take more for me."
All Callie wanted was to take anything Ford Holder offered her and then to beg for more. He released her clit again and rasped his beard against her right thigh spreading her legs further. Then he punished the thin skin with suckled kisses that grew in intensity until she understood the point. He was marking his territory, branding her.
With that, he shattered any propriety she'd been trying to cling to. "More, give me more," she gasped in a breathless plea. A very loud, very male roar of ownership vibrated against her skin as he granted her request.
When she bore his marks of ownership, he released her, allowing her restless hips to beg for him. "Let me hear how good I make it feel when I let you come," he ordered.
He speared two fingers deep in her channel, tracked to her G-spot like he had a map, and worked her over. To add to that overwhelming sensation, he kept his tongue and suckles soft on her clit. The push and pull, the tender and the demanding, the beast and the man all consumed her. It was all Ford and all her and all entirely too perfect.
"Ohhh...yes." She walked a fraying tightrope of unadulterated bliss. Half of her wanted to fling herself off, certain he would catch her. The other half knew to wait until he gave her permission to fly.
"That's it," he groaned. "Right there. You ready to come for me, sweet baby? Beg me."
"Please, please," were again the only words her brain seemed to understand.
"You know what I want to hear. Say it."
His name sang readily from her before she fully understood what he wanted. Oh, the man could tell her stories about being able to let her go when it was time, but the beast he housed in his soul knew no such lies. He was much too real. No practiced patience or reserve, no polite manners or breeding. Just honest to god truth, and so she fed the beast he held captive deep inside of himself and hoped she'd figure out some way to free it.
She opened her eyes, stared into the blue horizon in his own, and spoke the truth, "Yours."
* * *
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Chapter Twenty-Eight
"Damn right you're mine. Now come for me," Ford ordered. He stared down at her gorgeous curves as she shattered in his hands. Her head shook back and forth on his pillow. His name sang from her lips like a hymn, like only he could absolve her.
As he rose to his knees above her, precum seeped from his cock and dripped to her swollen mound. He gripped himself and milked more from his slit bathing her body with his seed.
Her eyes held dark fire in their depths. Her body rolled so anxious for him. Her tits swayed in a mesmerizing dance. Her nipples strained, needy for his mouth.
He dragged two rough fingers through the fluid on her mound. "Taste," he commanded as he brought his fingers to her mouth.
A breathy moan escaped her lungs before she swirled her tongue over his fingers and then began to suck with fervor. He longed to replace his fingers with his cock, to feel the heat of her velvet mouth as she took him deep. Christ, he wanted to feel her throat contract around his head, wanted to make her swallow him down. She shuddered against him. Her eyes closed as she suckled so fucking perfectly he swore he was going to come long before he was buried balls deep inside her. Pulling his fingers from her mouth, he replaced them with his own lips. "Now, taste us together, baby. Your sweet pussy juices all over my mouth. So fucking good."
Ford’s kiss was demanding and possessive, all the things he felt but knew he shouldn't. He was too far gone to care. He had to make her his. Had to figure out some way to give her the life she wanted and still be able to have her all for himself. Longing to tie her to his bed and nurture and care for her endlessly rooted in his soul.
When he allowed her breath, he swept his tongue along the lower curve of her breast and then kissed a trail of heat to her nipple. He teased and tempted until, "Suck me. Please. I need..." spilled from her, but her plea drowned in an all-consuming moan as he nipped at her and then soothed the pain.
She scaled her hand between their bodies and wrapped her fingers around his cock. Jesus Christ. He throbbed in her hand. But then she pressed his shaft to her slit and slid him back and forth against her clit.
He roared both from the sight and the sensation. "Take what you want, baby, 'cause I'm sure as hell about to take mine."
She released him and panted out her need. "Take me," she urged. "Now. Please. I can't wait anymore."
The pool of precum gathered at the apex of her slit sent a shockwave of panic through him. He made quick work of locating the condoms Maddox had supplied him. But as he used his mouth to tear one open, she grabbed his hand. "I'm on the pill. You don't have to use that. I don't want anything between us."
Her body continued to wriggle urging him to do as she'd asked. But the shockwave of panic bled quickly to a deluge, drowning him. Thundered echoes of his past wrapped its fingers, cold and tight, around his throat and cut off his air supply. He'd heard those very words before. He'd believed them. Hell, he hadn't only believed them—he'd been thrilled by them. He'd devoured the lies but hadn't been able to taste their poison until six months after the wedding, when there was no baby but there was constant turmoil.
Nonsensical words tried to form on his tongue but all he managed to do was shake his head.
"Ford," Callie soothed. She slid upwards until she was seated in his bed. "Hey." She gently ran her hands over his cheeks. The motion slowly grounded him in the present. "What's wrong?"
"She..." He couldn't look her in the eye. He was terrified his vision would blur his past and present the way his hearing had. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to explain. "She told me...and I...I believed her. I was a dumbass k
id." He was well aware that he made no sense.
Yet somehow, she understood. "Oh my god. She told you she was pregnant." He forced his eyes to open. Realization and understanding struck like lightning in her own. She took the condom wrapper still dangling from his fingertips. Keeping his gaze locked in her own, displaying her fervency, she positioned the Trojan at his head and did the work for him.
"Callie, I'm...sorry," he choked. He was still a dumbass, trusting a piece of latex more than this woman who'd pulled him from the crashing waves that were overtaking him. She'd brought breath and a semblance of peace back to his life. He hadn't had either in so long he barely recognized them at first.
"My mom got pregnant with me when she was nineteen. I know that's not the same thing, but I get how confusing this must feel. Don't apologize. Just make love to me."
But he remained motionless, still lost in an abyss of confusion, caught somewhere between his past and his present. Callie's sweet grin yanked him back from the depths. And he did the only thing that made any sense at all. He brought her lips to his, and tried with everything he was to believe that he was tasting his future. That kiss sank through him, soothing his rough edges, healing the jagged wounds Meritt had knifed into his soul. Every insult, every threat, every insinuation that he would never be enough met its conquering angel, the one who said he was her everything.
She turned over and rose up on all fours. Then she shot him a look that he swore swelled his cock back to full form in a split second. "Come on, cowboy. Show me what you're made of." With that she shook that gorgeous ass back and forth, a temptation he had no hopes of denying himself.
Cowboy thundered in his blood. She wasn't Meritt, for Christ’s sake. She was his. Meritt had never been his. He drove home that point by centering himself behind Callie's lush ass and impaling her pussy on his cock as she cried out from his force.