The Texas Rebel [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Rebecca Joyce

  The wait was agony. The heat of her pussy was searing his dick, as he waited for her to give him the okay to move. She was just so fucking tight. Her pussy was an inferno. The moment she began to move beneath him, Mark started his pleasure all over again. Dear God, he couldn’t think anymore. He took his time, moving slowly, allowing her to match his pace.

  Mark was in a whirlwind. The air around him picked up, throwing him everywhere as her hot channel consumed him. Lost in the vast ecstasy of her, he found himself devouring her, taking everything she gave. He became possessive and demanding as he quickly spiraled out of control.

  “Fuck, baby, your pussy is heaven. I’m not gonna last much longer. Fuck, Sarah, your pussy feels so damn good,” he said, thrusting into her harder.

  “Give me your cock, Mark. Make me come again,” Sarah moaned as her face looked serene.

  Pumping into, Mark rocked into her body, giving her everything he had. He could hear his balls slapping against her ass, their hips smacking as he joined them. Her cream coated his cock as he thrust faster into her. He could feel his balls drawing up as he pounded into her. Gone was the soft loving he intended, as a carnal need took over. “Come for me, baby. Milk my cock,” Mark demanded as a large flash exploded before his eyes. The wind stopped, and there she was, smiling back at him as he released his seed into her. With their bodies intertwined and exhausted, she raised her hand and gently ran her thumb across his bottom lip. Mark smiled, leaning down to kiss her.

  Holding her close to him, Mark knew he was in trouble, real trouble. It had never been like this with anyone. Somehow he had allowed Sarah get to him. He genuinely cared for her. He knew he couldn’t just walk away like he did from all the other girls. She was more than a one-night stand. Gradually over the last week, he had lowered all of his defenses and let her in.

  For the first time in his life, he was scared, scared of making the biggest mistake of his life.

  He just didn’t know which one was the mistake.

  * * * *

  Silicon Valley, California, that same night…

  “What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” Mitchell shouted into the phone.

  “I am not his babysitter. And I never said I didn’t know where he was. I can’t make him call you. What do you want me to do? Send out the British National guard!” Bridget shouted back. She had had enough of Mitchell, and her last thread had snapped. She was going to give this boy a piece of her mind.

  “Damn it, Bridget, where is he?”

  “Don’t you yell at me, you little ingrate. I have had all I am going to take from you. You have been rude and callous. You either behave, or I will have your number banned from my system. Do you hear me, Mitchell Armstrong?” she threatened.

  “Sorry, Bridge, I didn’t mean it,” Mitchell apologized remorsefully.

  “Yes, you did. Now quite whining and tell me why you want to talk to him so bad?” Bridget asked.

  “Well…”

  “Yes.”

  “Come on, honey, just tell me where he’s at. I promise I’ll be nice. I swear.” Mitchell laughed.

  “You’re an awful liar. You do realize that?”

  “That’s Mark, darling. I, on the other hand, know how to do it convincingly.” He laughed.

  “Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?” she exclaimed loudly.

  “Probably.” He chuckled. “So, my little scrumptious treat, are you going to tell me where he’s at?” he asked smoothly.

  “Nope, Mark wants to be left alone. You have his personal number. You call him,” she said firmly before hanging up.

  Mitchell sat in his office stewing.

  He knew Mark. His brother just didn’t drop off the face of the earth for any old reason. He was up to something, and Mitchell knew it deep in his gut. He just had to figure out what.

  Out of all the brothers, Mark was the flighty one. He hardly ever checked in or barely called. Mark had to be threatened with bodily harm if he didn’t present himself at least once a year in front of the family, but mainly, Mark was a loner. He actually preferred being by himself. Yes, he loved the spotlight, but not the negative impact it had on his career, a true showboat in the football arena but a nightmare out in public. It was like he didn’t care of the repercussions or implications of his actions. That and it always reflected badly on the family. So during the season, the brothers took it upon themselves to call him regularly and make sure he was behaving. The bad part of this whole situation was that it was Mitchell’s turn to make contact, and he knew his twin wouldn’t answer for him.

  Mitchell’s thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing from his desk. “Mr. Armstrong. Your eleven-thirty appointment is here,” his secretary said over the loudspeaker.

  “Okay, send him in,” Mitchell answered. Getting up from his desk, he greeted one of his longtime friends. “Hey, Greg, what’s up? Mark smiled.

  “Oh, you’re gonna love this,” the tall, dark man responded sarcastically and turned on the flat screen against the wall. There right on the TV screen was Mark at some concert having himself a whopping good time with some hot little bimbo beside him. Though he could not see her face, his brother’s was clear as day.

  “What the hell?” Mitchell cursed, jumping to his feet, walking closer to the television. “That asshole is supposed to be getting ready for the game of his life, not out partying it up with some floozy!”

  “Oh, she ain’t some floozy,” Greg informed him with a smile.

  “Who is she?”

  “Just listen,” he said as he turned up the volume.

  “Looks like Texas Rebel Mark Armstrong has finally had a change of luck. After a horrible week of practice, he may not have any luck on the football field, but his luck has changed in the dating department, for he was spotted with none other than the beautiful and elusive Sarah Mitchell. That’s right, you heard me correctly, Sarah Mitchell.

  “After five years of living out of the limelight, Ms. Mitchell has finally reappeared. Though they left the concert before it ended, we have learned that they stopped for coffee at a local pub in Scotland, where they were spotted laughing and holding hands. This reporter has tried several times to get in touch with her manager, but he refused to answer any questions. So we are left with this, how long have they been seeing each other, and will her association with ‘Bad Boy Armstrong’ finally send her out into the public eye forever? Either way, we are all anxious to see what comes about of this. This is Rebecca Winter reporting for Entertainment Tonight.”

  “He doesn’t even like jazz music!” Mitchell shouted.

  * * * *

  Sarah woke the next morning sore but refreshed. She turned to find Mark sleeping peacefully next to her. It warmed her heart that he stayed. Easing herself out of bed, she threw on a large sweater from her closet and grabbed a pair of wool socks. Walking to the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee.

  She couldn’t stop smiling.

  She felt like dancing and jumping for joy. Turning on her little iPod system, she welcomed the sounds of Patti Labelle singing “If Only You Knew.” Grabbing a cup, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, singing along with the soft sounds, enjoying her moment of pure pleasure. She could still see him sleeping comfortably when her merriment was interrupted by the vibration of a phone. Searching for the annoying contraption, she found it tucked into Mark’s pants that lay in a rumpled pile at the foot of her bed. Grabbing the phone, she walked back into the living room.

  The phone kept vibrating. As she looked at the caller ID, all it said was “Idiot.” Thinking it might be important, she answered the phone, but was unable to say anything, for the person on the other end immediately began his tirade. “You rat bastard, it’s about time you answered your damn phone. I have been trying to get a hold of you for more than two weeks now. What in the hell do you have to say for yourself?” the angry man yelled into the phone.

  Sarah pulled the phone away from her ear and looked incredulously at the
thing. Still hearing the caller rant and curse, she decided to put an end to this disturbing conversation quickly.

  “I am sorry. I think you want Mark. If you hold on, I will go get him,” she said sweetly.

  “Hey, wait a minute! I’m Mark’s brother. Who is this?” he asked.

  “Why do you need to know who I am?”

  “What are you doing with butthead’s phone?” he questioned.

  Sarah giggled at the remark. Never having a brother herself, she had always imagined if she did, this was how she would ask if some strange female answered his phone. “Well, since you so fondly refer to him as butthead, the butthead is asleep. Do you want me to wake him?”

  “Hah! You’re an American. Serves that bastard right. Hey, what did you say your name was again, honey?”

  “Sarah Mitchell, and you are?”

  “Well, well, well. Oh, sugar, you’re talking to the one and only Mitchell Armstrong. That ungrateful weasel’s twin brother,” he said. “Wait a minute, what do you mean butthead is asleep?” he questioned.

  “Well, it’s only 8:00 a.m. here, and we had rather a long night,” she replied cautiously.

  “So butthead stayed the night, did he?” Mitchell questioned, but when Sarah didn’t respond right away, he asked, “Hey, sugar, you there?”

  “Yes, I need to go,” she whispered, knowing he was trying to get information out of her.

  “Hey, Sarah, wait!” he shouted into the phone.

  “What?” she answered, getting nervous.

  “Hey, the family is crossing the pond for the big game. We would all like to meet you. Are you going to be there?”

  “Oh, no. I won’t be there. I have to go now. I will tell him you called. Good-bye,” she said quickly and hung up.

  She got up and walked into her room, seeing that Mark was still asleep in her bed. He looked so peaceful and relaxed lying there, she thought mischievously.

  Well, I can change that!

  Sliding out of her sweater, she softly climbed back into bed. Removing the quilt, she straddled his waist. Leaning down, she whispered his name. “Mark?”

  “Humm,” he uttered.

  “Oh, Mark. Time to wake up, cowboy,” she said softly against his cheek. Sarah loved the feel of him between her legs. His strong, muscled body, so firm and tight, was a sight to behold. Running her hands across his chest down to his waist, she let her fingers trace the map of every indentation, every curve. He was a masterpiece, and for this moment, he was all hers.

  “Humm.”

  “You just had a phone call,” she whispered gently against the tips of his lips, slowly grinding her pelvis against his already hardening cock. Humming and softly moaning against the friction of her clit, she hoped her seduction would pique his interest.

  Still nothing.

  She knew was going to have to take this charade further.

  * * * *

  Mark could feel her wet pussy against his raging hard-on, but it was warm breath against his mouth when she spoke seductively that sent shivers of pleasure through his body. The feeling was utterly tantalizing. Thinking this was a delicious dream, he had every intention of playing along. Sliding his hands up her legs, around her waist, and up her back, he pulled her closer to him. His mouth took hers, and all reason left him.

  She had him under her spell and he went willingly.

  She was warm and inviting. Her soft lips, like petals, opened for him. Tasting her sweetness of mint and honey awakened his senses.

  Her mouth fit perfectly against his, as if she were molded just for him.

  She felt so real to him, warm and gentle. He wondered in that moment if she really understood what she meant to him. She was unlike anyone he had ever been with, but in the last couple of hours, she had unknowingly found a place deep within him, someplace so foreign that even Mark was having a hard time describing it. He only knew that she was special, and at this moment, she was all his.

  He smiled when he felt her breath tickle his chest as she nibbled and licked his nipples. Her grinding on his cock was eliciting a reaction, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get a really big surprise. He lay there enjoying the feeling of her as she tried to arouse him. She was doing a great job of it, too, until with a flick of her finger, she thumped the tip of his nose.

  Instantly opening his eyes, he yelled, “What the hell!”

  “I said, time to wake up,” she playfully scolded him.

  “Why, you little minx!” he said, grabbing her and throwing her to the bed as Sarah giggled. “I just wanted you to get up.”

  “Oh, baby, you just got your wish,” he growled, kissing her neck as his hands roamed devilishly down her body to the wet entrance between her legs. Inserting a finger, he began to thrust in and out as his thumb rubbed her sensitive clit. “Oh, sugar, you’re so wet for me. Did you miss me that much?”

  “Oh God!” Sarah moaned as he inserted another digit, taking her taut nipple into his mouth and sucking hard. “Oh God, more please. I need more!”

  “No need to beg, darlin’.” Mark smiled, pinching her sensitive little nub, sending her over the edge. Watching her writhe beneath him, he didn’t give her time to come down softly as he took his hard shaft and slid home. Her orgasm was still reeling in waves as he seated himself fully. Thrusting just once, she shot off like a rocket again, screaming as she pulsed around his cock.

  Mark wrapped his arms around her and rolled her on top of him as she rode out her orgasm. Breathing heavily, he waited, rubbing and petting her as her body shook with pleasure. He just lay there and felt every tremor, every pulse, and allowed the intimacy of the moment to fill him with need. The more she pulsed, the harder he got.

  When it seemed she had caught her breath, he watched as she rose above him. “That was amazing,” she said, smiling.

  “Amazing, huh? Well, I aim to please,” he replied, moving his hands up her legs to her waist, waiting for her. Shifting his hip beneath her, he watched her eyes widen and take in the full feel of him. “Wanna ride a cowboy, baby?” he asked.

  “But you’re not a cowboy, you’re a football player.” She laughed as she began to grind against his still cock, finding the rhythm that pleased her and him.

  “Football is just my day job, sugar. I was born a cowboy and will die a cowboy. Oh damn, sugar, do that again,” Mark moaned.

  “You liked that?” she said, grinding her pelvis again in that slow clockwise motion.

  “Oh fuck, Sarah. Fuck me!” he shouted.

  For the first time in his life, Mark allowed himself to only feel as the woman above him began the pounding pace of giving him the ride of his life. Never had sex been this stimulating, this invigorating. Lost within her powers, he was hers. He could feel the buildup deep within his gut, as the tingle of awareness began drifting throughout his body.

  “You like my pussy, Mark? You like when I do this?” she teased him as she began bounce up and down on his dick.

  He could hear her moans of pleasure as she rode him hard. He could feel her pussy tightening hard around him like a clamp about to explode. Then as if in a daze, the tingling in his spine shot right to his balls as he thrust his seed deep within her womb, sending her into another orgasm. He caught her just as she fell on top of him, breathing hard, panting, and trying to catch her breath.

  “Damn, baby. That was—wow.” He managed to get it out right before her soft breath tickled his chest as she drifted off into a delirious sleep.

  * * * *

  Sarah was sleeping peacefully when he left the room. Walking into her kitchen to find out that the coffee was made, Mark helped himself to a cup and wandered around her living room looking at her photos, books, and music.

  Fumbling through her massive book collection of far-off places, his eyes trailed over to some literary classics, like Austin and Browning. As his eyes scanned the collection, he noticed her vast array of music. She had everything from classic to rock. She was open to all forms of music, which surprised him, considerin
g he really didn’t listen to anything but country. Her photos that lined the wall were of far-off places that she had traveled to and competitions that she had entered. Her college diploma was even among the many photos on the wall. But as he scanned them, he realized that in every photo, she was alone. Not a single one had someone else in them, only her.

  She was alone.

  Making his way over to the other bookshelf, he continued to scan her book collection, noticing that everything was neatly in its place. Everything was in alphabetical order. He quickly turned to the other shelf and realized that when the first one left off, the other began. “And she says I’m neat and tidy.” He laughed.

  He found some photo albums on the bottom shelf and was about to grab one when he saw one lone book lying on top of the albums. “What’s this? You’re not in your proper place.” Taking the book in his hand, he read the title,Memoirs of a Rebel Angel.Fiction? What in the world?Flipping the book over, he read the simple introduction of the book and smiled. “A true story, huh, sounds interesting.” Mark couldn’t help himself. Making himself comfortable on the couch, he opened the book and began to read.

  * * * *

  Sarah woke, hearing Mark talking to himself in the living room. Stretching before she got out of bed, she noticed her body ached in places that never hurt before and smiled when she realized why. She had never felt so completely and utterly relaxed before in her life. Throwing her robe over her naked body, she walked past him on the couch and headed right for the coffeepot.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, yawning once again as she grabbed for a coffee mug.

  Mark was immersed in the book, she noticed, when he replied, “Reading a book.” When he turned to look at her, he had a serious look upon his face, something that she had rarely seen. “Sarah, where did you find this book? I have never read anything like it before. I mean, the character, she is so raw. You realize I have actually done and said some of the things she has done in this book,” he asked and went back to reading the book.