Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch

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Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch Page 13

by Landish, Lauren


  I slide my hand inside her jeans, dipping inside her panties too, and follow the soft skin of her belly down to her core. She whimpers as I bump along her clit and feel the moisture already gathered there. “Fuck, honey. All this for me?”

  Shay shudders, finding her voice. “I was thinking about you, about what we did last night under the tree, and I wanted . . .” She pauses, her cheeks pinking, but it’s not in embarrassment. It’s in heated memory of twelve hours ago when she came on my fingers. That she’d let me touch her was so meaningful, and now we both can’t hold back. She meets my eyes boldly, demanding. “I want it again. More.”

  I growl at her admission, the honesty in her confession the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Anytime, Shayanne. Any. Fucking. Time.”

  Her jeans restrict me a bit, but I manage to slip my fingers through her lips, teasing at her entrance. My thumb dances over her clit as I slowly press my finger inside her. “You’re so tight, honey. We’re gonna have to work you up to take me because I don’t know if I’ll be able to be gentle. I want you so fucking much.”

  Her hands fist my shirt at my shoulders, and then her hands open, fingers splayed wide. “Tell me,” she whispers, her head thrashing and her eyes closed.

  She’s gorgeous, lost in pleasure and ordering me to give her more. I do as she needs, finding a rhythm as I fuck her with my finger, adding a second to stretch her and groaning at the way she spasms around me.

  “Ride my hand, Shay. Ride it like you’re going to ride my cock. I’m gonna fill you up, fuck you deep and hard until you shatter on me, your tight little pussy squeezing and milking my cock, so hungry for my cum. Take my fingers. Get ready for me, honey, because this pussy is going to be mine.”

  Her hands move, one to hold my forearm, her blunt nails digging into the skin to keep me there as if I have any intention of leaving her on the edge. The other moves to my head, gripping my hair as she kisses me like she wants to taste the promise I’m giving her.

  I feel her whole body tighten, tense with possibilities, and for a long second, I don’t so much as breathe, not wanting to miss the moment she falls apart for me. She shudders and then whispers my name. I hold her up as her legs give way, still teasing her clit and shoving my fingers into her to wring as much pleasure as I can out of her.

  I wait until she comes back to her senses, letting her pretty hazel eyes focus so she can see me slip my fingers out of her and directly into my mouth. “Next time, I want to lick you off, Shay. Think you’re ready for that?”

  Her eyes track my mouth, watching the words form and my fingers disappear as I savor her sweetness. “I’m ready for something else too,” she says. “I’ve been ready. I just didn’t want to rush us.” Her eyes betray the white lie. She’s been trying to move us along faster than I have, greedy and needy and so damn gorgeous in her desire for more that it’s taken all of my control to go slow.

  I feel her hand palming me through my jeans, and I can’t help but groan, on the edge of painfully rock hard for her. She squeezes lightly, teasing me and making me groan with need.

  “Shayanne,” I rasp, though I don’t know if I’m trying to tell her yes or no. Fuck, I want her hands on me, want anything she wants to give me. Her smiles, her stories, her body, her mind, her future. I want it all. I just can’t resist, and she’s everything I’ve ever thought possible.

  She unbuttons my jeans, pushing at them to get them over my hips. I help her, pushing them down my thighs and then doing the same with my boxer briefs. I’ve never been shy about being naked, and Shayanne’s already seen me, but this is a big step for her, and I need to control myself.

  I slide my hand up and down my rock-hard shaft, giving her permission. “You can touch me if you want, or I can do it if you’re not ready.” It’s not a challenge, just an option, but she doesn’t take it.

  “I want to touch you, want to do to you what you do to me.” Her palms are soft as they rub along my thighs, inching closer to where I need her. And then she wraps one hand around me and I instinctively thrust into her fist.

  “Fuck, Shay. I’ve dreamed of you touching me,” I growl, already on the edge from getting her off.

  “What have you dreamed about?” she asks, her hand stroking along my length.

  “Just this,” I hiss, my eyes trying to slip shut, but I want to watch her. “Your hands on me, doing whatever you want.”

  She leans forward, nibbling at my neck and whispering, “I want to do what you see in your dreams, so tell me, Luke. Hard or soft, slow or fast? How do you want me jack you off?”

  I grunt, not able to hold back when she says things like that. My teeth are gritted, and I can’t keep my eyes open anymore at the onslaught of pleasure. “Hard, fast . . . I fucking need you, Shay.”

  Her little hand moves faster, my precum easing her way as she spreads it along my shaft with her tight fist. “Come for me, Luke. Come all over my hand.”

  She’s getting damn good at the dirty talk, or maybe I’m easy? I don’t know, but she’s doing things to me I’ve never felt before. I swear she’s got my dick attached to my damn soul because my entire being is straining toward her, wanting her touch, her attention, her everything.

  I manage to turn the slightest bit at the last second so I don’t come on her belly and ruin her T-shirt. Instead, the cum pulses from my crown, covering her hand and shooting into the hay on the stall floor. My voice is strangled in my throat, but I cry out her name as I release, the orgasm hard and draining after days of need.

  “Goddamn,” I pant, blinking as I regain the ability to see again. “Holy shit, Shay. That was . . .” I shake my head, not finding the word I need when my brain is still on autopilot, barely maintaining life supporting systems. And right now, speech ain’t one of them.

  I look down at her, still pressed against the wall, her dirty hand held in the air and a victorious grin on her face. “Good. You’d better say that was good, Luke Bennett, or we’re gonna have words. Keep in mind, that was my first time, so I’ll get better.”

  I laugh, but she can see the heat in my eyes as I lean forward and kiss her softly. “Great, Shayanne? That was fucking amazing.”

  She goes to do a fist pump, or at least I think that’s what she’s going to do, but then her face spreads into a grin. “Uhm, can I like wash my hand, or is that considered rude? I think I need a little bit of help with what’s expected here. They don’t talk about this part in my romance books, and it’s definitely a fade-to-black moment on soap operas.”

  She’s so fucking adorable, and weird, and adorable.

  I plant a kiss to her nose. “There’s a sink in the main aisle. Let me toss some fresh hay in here so there’s no mess if one of the animals comes into this stall. I’ll muck it out later. ’Kay?”

  She nods and ducks beneath my arm, heading in search of the sink.

  A quick dispatch of hay later, I follow her, only to hear her talking.

  “Ho-lee shit! Did you hear that? He said I was, and I quote, ‘fucking amazing’. You heard that too, but you won’t tell, right?”

  A deep voice that sounds vaguely like Shayanne says, “No, ma’am. I won’t tell.”

  I’m confused for a second about who she’s talking to, then I come around the corner to find her cozied up to Demon. Demon . . . who earned his name the hard way.

  “Uhm, Shayanne. Back away slowly.”

  She looks my way, rubs her nose along Demon’s in an Eskimo kiss, and then steps back. Demon lets his dissatisfaction be known with a snort.

  “What’s wrong? Why’re you looking all freaked out?”

  Now that she’s a safe distance from the big, black beast of a stallion, I ask my first question, ignoring hers. “Were you talking to the horse? Or more to the point, were you talking for Demon?”

  She drops her chin, but not before I see the flush overtake her cheeks. She talks into her hands, where she’s brought them up over her face. “Yes, I do that sometimes. Talk to animals, trees, basically anything around me.
And I have them talk back, but I’m not crazy.”

  I laugh, pushing her hands away from her face and lifting her chin so she’s forced to look me in the eye. “You’re adorable and weird,” I tell her, repeating my earlier thoughts. “I love it.”

  Her eyes open wide. “Really? You don’t think I’m crazy?”

  My lips quirk, and I tilt my head back and forth like I’m considering. I pause long enough that she shoves at my chest. “Asshole. So I talk to myself. We all have quirks.” She shrugs, no longer embarrassed but proud and confident in her weirdness. “I’m sure you have your own oddities too, like having to spin around three times before you lie down at night like a dog.”

  She says it with such certainty that I decide to do that if I ever get her in my bedroom at night, just to prove that I’m weird too. The thought of her in my room is a powerful one, but I let that go for now, sticking with the teasing. “Maybe, but I’m not telling.”

  “So if not because I talk to myself, why were you looking freaked out?” she asks, returning to her questions.

  “Because Demon’s not exactly the friendly and welcoming sort. In the field, he’s fine, even did a photo shoot for one of Katelyn’s brides, but when he’s in his stall, he’s earned his name as a bit of an asshole. But you’re apparently a damn horse whisperer, getting him to let you love on him in two seconds when it took me damn near a week before I could touch him. He’s picky about his people.”

  She looks over her shoulder at the big horse who’s nuzzling her like a gentle birthday party pony when I know he’s anything but. Shayanne steps closer, offering her hand to Demon again. He sniffs, and then, slow as molasses, she lifts her hand up and scratches at his cheek. “Who’s a big, mean horse?” she coos as she cuddles him, and damned if that grumpy horse doesn’t whinny back at her in answer. “Yes, you are, you big baby.”

  I come closer, petting along his flank. “Damn persnickety monster, but I’m glad you like her too,” I tell the horse, knowing Shayanne is listening. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  She pitches her voice low, pretending she’s Demon. “I like her better than you.”

  My jaw drops in feigned shock, and I try not to laugh. “Rude! Who feeds you and gives you treats?”

  Shayanne turns, sticking her butt out at me, and I can see she’s got an oat cookie in each back pocket. Ahh . . . smart woman. “Is that how you got him to warm to you so quickly?” I accuse.

  She gives Demon another rub, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ll never tell, will we, boy?”

  I feel on the outside of their quick friendship, but I like that she’s an animal type. She gets it and likes them the way I do, too, which is something you can’t explain to someone who’s not a horse person. “Can we ride him?”

  “Yeah, let me grab his gear.” I get his saddle from the tack room and get Demon ready before climbing up. I settle in and make sure he’s in the mood for a ride today.

  For most of my horses, I’m the Alpha of the hierarchy and there’s no debate. Demon is a different creature, and instead of dominance, we have more of an accord to help each other out.

  But like me, he’s totally enamored with Shayanne and is in a fine mood today, so I move my foot out of the stirrup and offer Shayanne a helping hand. She climbs up and settles behind me. The saddle is a tight fit for two, pressing her core up against my ass, her thighs aligned with mine, and her soft tits to my back. As her arms wrap around my waist, I rub at her hand. “Hang on, honey.”

  I lead us out of the barn, looking around to check for Mark or James. It’s not that I care if they see us, but I want to respect Shayanne’s wishes to keep quiet for now. Though her being here in the middle of the day, doing what we just did, is dangerous if that’s what she wants. This powder keg is getting closer and closer to igniting, and I’m afraid she’ll be the one to pay the price when it blows.

  I don’t see anyone around, but I head away from the barn, away from the Bennett homestead, and even farther away from the Tannen house. Instead, I head for the part of our ranch I call The Drop, a shallow valley that stretches out for miles, even beyond our holdings.

  It’s quiet for a bit, just Demon’s breath and the clopping of his hooves along the grassy ground, but it’s a comfortable silence. Just the two of us atop Demon, and it feels like we’re alone in the world. Safe, together.

  “I didn’t get a chance to ask with you all bossy and demanding orgasms, but how’d you sneak away today?” I goad her.

  She smacks my back, playfully fired up. “Luke Bennett, you did not just call me bossy.”

  I look over my shoulder at her. “Pretty sure I did, but I didn’t say I was complaining.” I give her a wink and a little smirk, which settles her indignant ire.

  “A bit of a risk, to be honest. The guys all went out to our furthest pasture to check on the herd. Daddy’s even helping, but they’ll be gone until dinner.” She looks up at the sun, judging where it is in the sky, and I do the same.

  “Not much longer then, huh?”

  “No, I threw a roast in the crock pot so dinner would cook while I was gone and the house would smell so good when they got home that they’d be distracted and not ask too many questions about my day.” She taps the side of her head, snorting. “Not my first rodeo.”

  “Well, let’s take advantage while we can,” I tell her, wishing she didn’t have to go home so soon but thankful for the unexpected visit today. “Hang on.”

  She tightens her hands around my waist once again, and after I make sure she’s secure, I give Demon permission to let loose. He’s a thunderer, known for his speed over uneven turf, and we’re flying through the air atop him in the blink of an eye. Freedom blows through our bones, the wind chasing away any worries, and with Shayanne pressed to my back, all feels right in the world.

  After a good mile, I turn him back at a trot and bring him home, far too soon, unfortunately. Giving him a rubdown, a cooling drink, and another oat cookie, we put Demon in his stall. Shayanne gives him scratches at his ears, and he flicks them in response, nuzzling her shoulder again.

  “You’ve definitely made a friend.”

  “More than one, hopefully,” she says, her brow lifting as she looks at me.

  I crowd in, moving her away from Demon and to the gate to the empty stall next to Demon’s. Pressed against her, I nuzzle her neck the way Demon was, but my intentions are decidedly less friendly. My voice is gravelly against her. “I’m not your friend, Shayanne. I want to be much, much more than your friend.”

  “Good,” she says breathlessly. “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I don’t want you for one either.”

  Usually, a Tannen saying that to a Bennett would be cruel-spirited, but I know exactly what she means.

  Chapter 12

  Shayanne

  I virtually skip home on a cloud of Luke’s making. Our ride with Demon, our tryst in the barn, the words we shared . . . I’m in a heaven that lasts right up until I burst through the back door into the kitchen and see Daddy and Bruce sitting at the table.

  I am so busted.

  “Hey, Shayannie, where’ve you been?” Daddy asks, nose buried in his phone. He doesn’t sound the least bit suspicious, but Bruce is looking at me with narrowed eyes.

  “Just out to check on the goats since Brody’s in the fields today.” The lie falls off my tongue readily, though I hadn’t planned it. Daddy hums like he’s agreeing with me, but I don’t think he even heard me. Bruce did, though, his head tilting, and then his eyes tick out the window toward the barn before returning to me.

  He doesn’t believe me. I can read it on his face. But I’m responsible and good, and I don’t think any of them would ever suspect I’d snuck off to the Bennett ranch. Bruce likely thinks I was fucking off, but he wouldn’t think I’d go against a family edict.

  I just hope he continues to think that way.

  Wanting to redirect their attention, I ask, “What are you doing back so quickly? Thought you had a long
work day ahead.”

  Daddy looks up then, but it’s to Bruce with a bit of a sneer. “I sat down for a quick break, and these young’uns thought I was done for. Damn near forced me to come in and said they could handle it themselves, so I’m gonna let them. If that’s what they want to do, have at it.”

  He waves his hand dismissively, and it pains my heart. Not that he came in or that he might be tired out. It’s the tone of his voice, an Oh, I can’t win the game, so it must suck sort of thing.

  Bruce, though, is not so forgiving. “You didn’t sit down for a break. You almost passed out, Dad. You were sweating bullets like it’s the Fourth of July in September.”

  I gasp, rushing over and pressing the back of my hand to Daddy’s forehead. He’s warm but not hot, and his color looks fine. “Are you okay?” I ask. “Should we call the doctor?”

  He shoves my hand away, sighing heavily. “I’m fine.”

  Even so, I grab a rag and wet it under the sink. I wring it out and then whirl it around a little to get it to cool, just like Mom used to do when we were little. I place it around Daddy’s neck, and he pats my hand like I’m the one who needs comforting.

  I sit at the table, eyeing him and looking for any sign that he’s lying, but he really does look okay. I look to Bruce for more information, but instead of analyzing Daddy, Bruce’s eyeing me up and down. I glare back and hope he’ll focus on the problem at hand.

  After all, our father, despite his issues, nearly dropped in the field. Whether it was heat exhaustion or that he’s gone a little soft from not working, I don’t really care. Both are more important than where the hell I’ve been.

  But Daddy’s finally got his attention pulled from whatever he’s doing on his phone, and now he’s staring at me too. “Did you say you were checking on the goats? I thought Brody did that this morning.”

  Shit. I knew that was too easy.

 

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