I notice a couple of the young bucks silently taking my measure, too. They can fuck off. I know Shayanne doesn’t want anyone but me, and the feeling’s mutual.
Still, a little territory staking ain’t a bad thing. I hold up a finger to J.R. and strut across the arena to Shay. She watches my approach, eyes taking in every roll of my hips and the burning look I’m shooting her. Her lips quirk like she knows exactly what I’m doing and approves.
“Hey, Luke. Looks like Bonnie’s doing well,” she says, sweet as candy when I stand in front of her, one of my dirty hands on each of her denim-clad knees.
I nod, looking up at her on her fence perch. “She is. But I’m more interested in how you’re doing, honey.” I let my voice drop low, my bedroom voice as she calls it, knowing it drives her fucking crazy.
She doesn’t take her eyes off me, and I can see the fires dancing in their depths. “I’m just fine.”
She’s feigning being unaffected, but I feel the clench of her thighs under my palms. I don’t fight the kiss we know is coming, lifting to my toes to reach her as she bends forward to meet me halfway. It’s over too fast but communicates my need to her and my claim to every fucker leaning on the fence wishing he were me.
“Be done soon. Got dinner plans for you tonight,” I tell her mysteriously. I boop her nose and toss her a playful wink before heading back to J.R., who’s watching the show with a shit-eating grin.
Behind me, I hear someone sullenly mouthing, “Damn near pissing on his territory like a dog.”
Another voice responds, “Wouldn’t you too?”
* * *
Dinner plans might’ve been overstating matters. More like J.R. offered to bring us plates so we could stay in. He’s a good guy, and when I’d told him I was bringing my girlfriend because she was going through some tough times at home, he’d promised to do anything he could to make it a good weekend away for her.
And as promised, the chopped sirloin, steak fries, and cinnamon apples are delicious and a testament to the ranch’s kitchen.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I say, shoveling food in my mouth. I’m not usually such a monster, but today was a lot of work, both physically and mentally, to get Bonnie where she needs to be.
Shayanne is much more mannered and nibbles at a large fry. “Of course. It was fun to watch you in action today. The guys all seemed to respect you, other than telling me a tale of you once getting knocked on your ass into a pile of manure. But even that was said with affection, I’m sure of it.”
Her eyes dance, knowing damn well those fellows were just trying to make me look bad in front of her. Little do they know, I’d lay down in shit if it’d make her laugh. Hell, I’d do anything to bring a smile to her gorgeous face.
“Fuckers. There’s supposed to be a code, you know? Rule number one, don’t go spreading stories that’ll knock a guy down, especially to his woman.” I fake an angry scowl, not giving a damn about their sharing the story. It’s a funny one, seeing as how both me and the horse were okay, just in need of a good scrubbing bath.
Shay pats my hand like she’s soothing me, but it’s all sarcasm. “There, there. It’s fine. I still think you’re a big, strong cowboy. Those mean boys didn’t make me think any less of you.”
Her voice is pitched like she’s talking to a whiny five-year-old, and I laugh. I lay a gentlemanly kiss to the back of her hand, then trail down to her fingers, pressing my lips to the pads of each one. I lick at her index finger, tasting the salt from the fries before sucking it into my mouth for a nibble.
At her gasp, I kiss her palm, her fingers cupping my scruffy cheek. Her breath is faster, her chest rising and falling and her eyes glazing over.
I’m this close to shoving the dinner dishes out of the way and taking her. But not yet. I need to know if she’s okay.
I lean into her touch, hungry for it, for her. I force the strangled words out. “How are you doing, honey? I mean for real, not the charade you’ve damn near perfected.”
Her sigh sounds resigned to having this conversation, even though she’d rather not. Her whole body sags as she sheds the shield of strength she wears with ease. Only with me does she melt into a puddle of honesty.
Quietly, she asks a question I don’t expect. “Does it make me an awful person if I say I’m doing okay?”
“No, but are you?” I follow up.
Her hands drop to her lap, where she fidgets and twists them. She looks down like they’re fascinating. “I feel like there’s been so much . . .” Her voice trails off, and I give her time to collect her thoughts. “Mostly, I’m upset about Brody, not Daddy. God, that’s awful.”
Her eyes go wide, horrified at her own feelings as she covers her mouth. I take her hands again, holding my gaze steady. “That’s perfectly reasonable, Shayanne. Tell me,” I order, but it’s soft, more a request than a demand.
She shakes her whole body, like a dog getting water off its back. I can feel she’s trying to do the same with the emotions coursing through her.
“Just let it out. I’m not here to judge, just to listen.”
She licks her lips. “Okay, I’ll try to make sense of the jumble in my head.”
Like a dam breaking free, it all comes loose in a torrent.
“In a way, I lost Daddy a long time ago, you know? He stepped back after Mom died, and I tried like a demon to hold onto him, keep him with us. I tried to do everything I could to be her. I can see now that he was heartbroken, but at the time, it felt like he abandoned us. Like I wasn’t good enough. But still, I kept him on that pedestal. Even when he fell and I saw how wrong he could be, it was like I still had hope he’d come around. Does that make sense?”
I nod, not interrupting her.
“Even that withered away, though, and I was just . . . resigned. He was alive, sitting at the dinner table most nights, but he was already gone. I feel like I mourned Daddy a long time ago, in a lot of ways. What could’ve been, who we might’ve been to each other. His death hit me hard, but it was more because that last little seed of hope died than anything else. And I really do think he’s finally at peace, in a way. I hope that’s true, at least, because it gives me a little peace.”
Her eyes are dry as a bone, and I’m amazed again at how strong she is. Even laying her heart bare, she’s unflinchingly tough.
“Brody’s a whole different thing, though. I didn’t expect him to fight me on this, on you. I figured he’d grump around and tell me I couldn’t do this, can’t do that. But I didn’t dream he’d be this much of a stubborn ass. And I’m furious he can’t just let me be me.” There’s the smallest, cutest growl in her throat as she rants about her brother.
I shrug, not worried. “He’ll come around. He just needs time.”
She looks at me, the fire in her veins licking at me now. “Seriously? That’s your big plan? Give him time?”
I nod. “Yep, that’s all I’ve got. He’s not gonna change his mind because I make some grand gesture. He wouldn’t respect me if I groveled and begged him for permission, and to be honest, he’s just fighting to hold on, his fingertips on the edge to keep everything together. He’s a family man and his flock is going through some major shit. He’s making progress, though. He came to dinner and didn’t tie you up in the barn to keep you from leaving with me. He just needs time.”
Her mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish out of water. “That’s not . . . he should . . .” Her shoulders drop as she realizes what I’m getting at. “Oh, my chee-sus and crackers, you’re right. He is doing better, but I’m focusing on the stomping around, huffing and puffing, and judgy glares.”
I grin. “He’s an asshole, no doubt about that. But he’s an asshole who loves you and thinks you deserve better than me. For the record, he’s not wrong. I’m the worst.”
She smiles back. “You’re something, I’ll give you that. Not sure it’s the worst or the best, though. You might have to remind me, let me see for myself again.”
She’s got her sultry
voice on, seduction in her every cell. Reassured that she’s truly doing well and just busy because it’s needed, not because she’s shoving down painful emotions, I stand and walk around the table.
She turns to face me, her chair scooting on the floor. I drop to my knees between her spread thighs. I let my eyes follow my words, down her body.
“Fuck, I want to taste you, honey, the fiery sass of your mouth,” I say as my eyes land on the plump fullness of her lips, “the chill of the day on your skin . . .” My gaze glances over the collarbone peeking out of her flannel shirt. “And the sweetness you hide between your thighs and only share with me.”
I bend down, placing my cheek on her thigh, and run my palm up the other, getting closer and closer to her heaven.
She nods breathlessly, without words, for a change. But I see a spark in her eyes as they darken. “Best get to it, then, cowboy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say cheekily as I move up to take her mouth.
It’s instant ignition, no slow burn or teasing left in either of us. It’s been too long since I’ve had her, and my need hits me hard. Our mouths fight for control, devouring each other as our teeth clash and tongues taste our shared breath.
She whimpers, and I growl, loving the way she shamelessly gives in to our need. I stand, gripping her ass, and pick her up, her legs going astride my hips. I toss her to the bed in the corner of the all-in-one room and gruffly tell her, “Strip.”
I wonder if she’s going to argue with me about it, but when I rip my own flannel shirt off and then reach behind my neck for my T-shirt, she gets to it. Matching me move for move, we strip ourselves faster than we could’ve each other.
Bared before me, I’m reminded again how beautiful she is. I didn’t forget. I just tend to think I’m embellishing in my head, my memory hazy and rose-colored by how good she feels. But the real thing laid out before me is even better than I remember.
Her honey skin is dotted with goosebumps from the slight chill in the air, and I can see her slit glistening with anticipation. She runs her hands up her belly, tracing the curve of the underside of her tits and pleading, “Just fuck me, Luke. I need you.”
A jolt of electricity runs through me, ending in my cock, and I have to grip myself hard to keep from coming from just her words. Still standing at the bedside, I bend forward, licking a long, slow line along her pussy and swirling over her clit. “Just need one taste, honey.”
She writhes against me, searching for more. I give in, always still surprised and thankful to be invited into her body, into her heart, into her life.
I lift her legs to my shoulders and slam into her in one fierce motion, filling her balls-deep and holding her there as she instantly spasms around me. She gasps, coming just from one thrust.
“Fuck, Shay. Already?” I rasp in shock. I give her small thrusts, riding her through her orgasm as she cries out my name and her head thrashes on the bed. She’s gonna have knots in her hair, something that oddly makes me proud. I’m the only one who can drive her wild that way.
I’m the only one who ever will.
Her eyes open, dark and heated as she returns to me from whatever orgasmic bliss she traveled through. She’s with me, against all odds, against her family’s wishes. A primal instinct roars through me, and I pull out, telling her, “Flip over. Hands and knees.”
She does as I command, presenting the perfectly full apple of her ass to me. One day, I’ll take that virginity too, if she wants me to. But right now, I need back inside her. I gently grab a handful of her tangles, ordering, “Arch for me.”
My free hand traces down the bumps of her spine, and I slip two fingers into her wet pussy. “One more taste,” I say, licking her juices from my fingers.
She moans, pressing toward me needily. Gripping her hips with both hands, I push through the kissing caress of her lips until my thighs press to hers. She bucks against me, moaning, “Fuck me, Luke. Make me come again.”
Such a bossy thing, but that sounds like a damn fine plan to me.
I fuck her hard, no mercy given as I slam into her relentlessly. The only thing keeping her from faceplanting on the bed is me pulling her back onto my cock with every stroke. It’s rough, raw, another level to our connection.
“Rub your clit, Shay. Come all over my cock and I’ll fill you up with my cum. Fuck, honey, it’s been so long, I don’t know if you’ll even be able to hold it all. I’m gonna make us messy with our cum.”
It’s only been a couple of weeks since our softer session after the funeral, but the nights we have had together haven’t been ones of physical lovemaking. Instead, I’ve held her in my arms, keeping the sadness and pain away, giving her a place to just be, no show needed.
But now, that’s not what she needs at all. It’s not what I need, either. We need this powerful fucking, a cleansing start to a new phase. One where she’s mine and I’m hers. One without her dad, one where Brody is going to have to get the fuck used to this. Because I love her and she’s mine.
One day, I’m going to make it official, but for now, impaled on my cock, her velvet walls squeezing me in a grip so tight it edges me on the line of pain and pleasure, I know it.
I love her so goddamn much. She’s it for me. Forever.
Her pussy spasms and she cries out, her arms collapsing as she falls to the bed. I fall over her, covering her with my body, my chest pressed to her back. I ride her like this, using the bounce of the bed to work her onto my cock as I stroke into her.
My balls pull up tight, and I grunt out her name as cum jets from my cock in pulses, painting her pussy, marking her as mine. Her sugar cum coats me too, claiming me as hers. Our sweat makes us slippery, but it’s just one more way we’re together.
Two bodies, one heart.
Chapter 27
Shayanne
“Shh! Be quiet, motherfucker. Don’t wake her up before we’re ready!” The whisper-yell is more than enough to wake me from my sleep. As is the responding thwack that signals someone just got smacked.
I stretch in my bed, sore but in a good way. The trip with Luke was fun, a great adventure, just like I knew it would be. I met new people, saw some gorgeous horses, and had lots of deliciously rough sex that made me appreciate all the ways Luke can love my body. Soft and sweet, hard and wild, and every shade in between. I’m a lucky woman.
Which is also evidenced by what my brothers are doing right now. It’s a Tannen family tradition, one my mom started when Brody was a toddler. Birthday pancakes, a monstrosity of fluffy goodness layered with piles of fluffy whipped cream and doused in sprinkles.
She made them every year for each of us, from the time we were able to eat a pancake, and I continued the tradition after she was gone. It never occurred to me how sweet it is that the boys do it for me every year too. I’m glad that this year is no different, considering the tension we’ve been working through.
Brody hadn’t even come home last night before I’d gone to bed, and a small part of me had been scared he’d skip the tradition this year. Though I didn’t admit that, not even to myself, until right this minute.
A knock pounds on my door, ending the charade. “Rise and shine, Shayannie. Got a little surprise for ya. And if you don’t hurry, I’m gonna eat it all myself.” Bobby’s already laughing, the threat not even worth the oxygen he put into saying it because we both know he’s not going to eat my birthday breakfast.
Still, I throw the blankets off and hop out of bed, feeling like a kid again. I fling open the door, ready to run down the stairs to the kitchen table, but I pull up short at my three brothers all standing in the hallway.
This is not part of the tradition, I think with trepidation.
“Happy birthday, Sis,” Brody says, his face straight even though he’s smiling. He hugs me tightly and I melt into his arms.
“Thanks, Brody,” I say softly to his thick chest.
Next up is Bruce and then Bobby, each of whom do the same hug and greeting.
“Sooo . . . breakfast
waiting?” I say, not sure why we’re still standing in the hallway.
Bruce’s grin is the epitome of I know something you don’t, which makes me nervous as hell.
Brody scratches at his lower lip with his thumb. “Yeah, breakfast in a minute, but I wanted to give you fair warning so you could plan ahead.” His pregnant pause gives me time to let all sorts of awful scenarios run through my head. “See, I was at the market this weekend when Sophie came by. Do you know how many kids she’s got in there? Gotta be at least a litter’s worth.”
My breath hitches at the news that he saw Sophie. This could be really good, like maybe she talked some sense into him, or really bad, because Sophie’s not a shy wallflower. She’ll tell you straight up if you’re a fuckup. That’s why we get along like birds of a feather, no soft edges on either of us. And pregnancy has made Sophie even a little sharper, if anything.
Danger! a voice shouts in my head.
“Just the one, so the doctor says. But she still has one more month till her due date, so I agree there might be at least one more hiding from the sonogram,” I answer warily, focusing on the least volatile bit of information.
Brody looks understandably doubtful that Sophie’s got one baby in her belly—and that she’ll make it another month.
“Anyway, she had an idea. I wasn’t sure, but she basically beat me over the head and said she was doing it, so I’d best get with the program if I wanted any say-so.” He quirks his brow at me. “So I’m with Sophie. We all are,” he says, suddenly remembering that Bruce and Bobby are standing next to him.
“With her on what?” I say leerily, looking at each of them in search of some sort of answer as to what the hell’s going on.
Bobby has met his limit of staying still and keeping quiet. He bounces on the toes of his boots, grinning. “Your twenty-first birthday party at Hank’s tonight. Sophie and Brody arranged everything while he was in town all weekend.”
Racing Hearts: Bennett Boys Ranch Page 27