by Brill Harper
They’re gone in a whirlwind. Rogan brings me tea again and hands me some paperwork.
“What is this?”
“I started the title transfer yesterday. You need to sign it in front of a notary.”
I look down. “Rogan, why are you signing away your house to me?”
CHAPTER TEN
ROGAN
“I TOLD YOU I WAS going to sign the title over to you. I don’t understand why you are so surprised that I did. Have I given you any indication that I am not a man of my word?”
I realize that it might be considered rash, but I was more grateful than ever that I had started the paperwork before we got the news today that she had lost her fortune.
“Rogan, sex talk is not to be taken literally. I understand that and I’ve only just been indoctrinated this week.”
“I know it’s nothing like the house you lost, but—”
“Stop. That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what is this about? I wanted to make sure you had something in your name.”
“It’s your home. You’ve worked so hard for it.”
“It’s mine and I want you to have it. It’s not necessary to kick me out, though I suppose that will always be an option for you.”
“You’re a high-functioning adult. I don’t understand why you don’t see how this is bizarre behavior. People don’t just give everything they worked for to a girl they’ve been, as Agent Venich so eloquently puts it, boinking for a week. Also, it makes me feel like a prostitute.”
My blood pressure rises. “That’s the first stupid thing I’ve ever heard you say. I’m not paying you for sex. I’m giving you something important to me because I love you. When we get married, I’ll get half of it back anyway, so it’s really not as big a deal as you think.”
“Married?”
“Yes, married. I love you. I fully intend to fill you with babies, another thing that was not just sex talk. I’m not saying we do it now, but yeah, when the time is right, we’ll get married.”
“You’re insane.” She puts down her tea and gets up to pace. “We’ve known each other a week. I am a pretty big mess and have been since you met me. I need to get my shit together, and until I do, I have nothing to offer you.”
“That’s the second stupid thing I’ve heard you say. Do you think you have to have it together to deserve to be loved? Princess, most of the people on this planet are a mess. None of us know what we are doing. You do your best each day and hope it’s working. Then you find the person who makes you feel like you at least understand why you’ve been trying. I own a business. I work hard. I get up each day and try to be a decent guy. But I don’t have my shit together any more than you do, and I’ve had more practice. I’m surly and reclusive, and I don’t need a headshrinker to tell me it’s because I never got over being abandoned by my mother. But then I met you and now I understand why I get up each morning. Why I try to be decent. Why I work hard.”
She’s stopped walking around the room and is just staring at me now, her amber eyes wet. “I feel like I’m in a Julia Roberts movie right now…and no…not the one where she’s a prostitute.”
“That might be the only Julia Roberts movie I’ve seen.”
She gives me a watery laugh. “I love you, too. I do. But I can’t just take all your stuff. I need to figure out what I’m doing. How I can give back? It’s not fair to you to take me on in this state.”
“You do whatever you need to do, princess. Your house and your man will be right here waiting for you when you’re ready for us.”
“Rogan…”
“No decisions have to be made right this minute. You have another month until college starts again. I’m not pushing you under or pulling you out of the water, Layna. We can just tread right here for now. Okay?”
“Okay. I think.”
“You’ve got a lot to think about with your stepdad and all. Do you want to go for a walk or something?”
“Or something sounds nice.”
My hard-on is instant. I want back in that pussy, and that is a fact. In fact, since she ran between me and the agents on the porch, I’ve felt a deep need to be balls deep in her again.
I grab her around the middle, fast and hard, enjoying her surprised gasp. Enjoying it even more when I push her roughly over the back of my couch.
“What are you—?”
With one hand planted on her back to hold her down, I yank down her shorts and panties. “Now that I have your attention, Princess Piss-Me-Off, I’d like to bring up the incident on the porch where you ran between me and what might have been a gun.”
She twists around, so I restrain her arms. “Rogan—”
“You scared about ten years off my life.”
“I’m sorry, but—” She shuts up the minute I bury my face in her pussy.
“Mmmm,” I say against her sweet, candied cunt before I snake my tongue inside her as far as I can. She moans and I widen her stance so I can get my whole face involved. I bring her to a hard, ruthless climax, holding her down and not caring how her legs are trembling as I use my feet to kick her legs wider.
“I need to punish you really good for that.”
“Punish me?”
I take my dick out. “Never scare me like that again.”
“Well, you don’t ever tell me ‘stay’ like I’m a dog again.”
I smack her ass like I’ve been wanting to do since that first day. She shrieks and squirms, but thrusts her ass toward me more.
“Oh baby, the taste of you made my dick so hard. I’m leaking pre-come like a faucet.” I tap her lower back with my cock. “I hope you are ready for this. I don’t think I can be gentle.”
“Fuck me, Rogan,” she says. “Fuck me hard. I want it. I want to feel you.”
I’ve still got her arms restrained when I slam into her. We both moan. She’s wet, so fucking wet. And her tightness is gripping me, pulling my dick inside her.
I think about how scared I was that something could have happened to her on that porch, and I slam into her again. Harder.
I punish us both with the brutal fucking. The sound of our flesh slapping fills the room. It’s obscene and it makes me go at her more. I’m holding her too tight, but I can’t loosen my grip. I can’t think of anything past the mind-numbing fuck I’m delivering. I should pull back. I should let go of her arms. Touch her clit. I never meant to be so rough with her.
“Oh God, Rogan.” Her body is tense and straining.
“You going to come around my cock? You’re so fucking wet. Tell me you don’t love this. Tell me you don’t like being fucked rough and hard. That you aren’t dying for my cock whenever it’s not inside you.”
“Oh God, oh God.”
“Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
“My pussy belongs to you, Rogan. Only you.”
“Fucking straight.”
My balls tighten and my muscles tense, and I drive into her as hard as I can. Just as I’m about to go, her inner muscles clench around my cock and she starts milking my dick.
“Just like that. Such a good girl.”
The roar that precedes my orgasm is epic, and I pull her hair and yank her head back as I fill her up like we’re animals.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LAYNA
Five months later
I’ve got ninety-nine problems. No seriously. This fucking accounting assignment is fucking huge and fucking killing me.
Okay, and I’m a little grumpy.
What kind of sadist assigns ninety-nine accounting problems?
And it’s my night to cook. Shit.
I hope my roommate likes sandwiches. Again. It’s always sandwich night on my night to cook. Which is why I only have one night assigned to me, yet never manage more than bread. Sometimes, I toast it. That’s as far as my culinary skills have progressed.
I could probably distract my roommate by flashing him my boobs. Men are easy that way. But that wouldn’t be right, would it? Even though I’m d
ying for some D, I shouldn’t use sex to manipulate someone or get out of chores. That’s not exactly A+ adulting.
Take it easy. I’m just playing. My roommate likes to be manipulated. I’m still living with Rogan. As if I would flash my boobs to anyone else.
While my tuition for the semester was paid, room and board was not. I was able to transfer to online classes for the semester and stay in the cabin of love with the reclusive tow truck driver. Since I own the house, it made sense to stay where I didn’t need to pay rent. And get D whenever I’m dying for it. Win-win.
I never actually signed the title transfer. It’s still in a file in the office. But in Rogan’s heart, I own his house. It’s cute and weird, but whatever.
I have a job now, too. After I convinced Rogan to buy a better computer (by flashing my tits and telling him it would make my schoolwork easier since my classes were online) I began taking on some bookkeeping for some other small businesses in town, with excellent references from my employer. I use the opportunity to give them advice on how to better their businesses, which most of them ignore, but at least they are more organized. I haven’t steered anyone wrong yet, and once Mabel Hartley added a manicure station to her hair salon per my urging, she made enough profit to take that anniversary cruise she’d been wishing for with Mr. Hartley.
The people of this town are leaving too much money on the table. I have ideas. I’ve even told Rogan I’m considering running for mayor in a few years. Give me time, another few years and my MBA, and I’ll have this town wrapped around my finger and making profitable quarters.
I thought I would miss university life more, but after the number Alan pulled on me last semester, I’m content to walk away from friends who couldn’t wait to talk shit behind my back and shun me before they even talked to me about what was obviously strange behavior. Small-town life suits me better, even though the gossip machine runs much faster than the college one. It’s a different kind of gossip, I guess.
And for a self-proclaimed recluse, Rogan has a lot of friends. They were wary of me first—the whole being arrested for grand theft auto thing—but they came around when they saw how happy Rogan is with me. And how I intend to keep him that way.
When Rogan comes home, he’s sweaty and gross, but he’s still more appealing than these ninety-nine problems, so I join him in the shower five minutes after he gets in it. His face registers shock, and then pleasure as I slide to my knees.
I love all the things Rogan does to me with his cock, but I have a special place in my heart for taking him in my mouth. I like the control. I like making him lose control. And I love the silky weight of him in my mouth. I swirl my tongue around the head of him, over and over. Then gulp him down to the back of my throat.
He groans, a sound I like a lot. “Not so fast, sweetheart.” He pulls my face off him, his dick plopping out of my mouth. “Stop pouting and stand up.”
“But I want—”
“I know what you want, angel.”
My back is against the shower tile, my feet off the floor, before I realize what’s going on. At my entrance, Rogan’s long, thick cock is waiting. He fills me slowly, stretching me, until he’s fully seated. I close my eyes. “I love the way you feel inside me.”
His grip on me tightens. “I don’t know how I lived all these years without you to look forward to.” I open my eyes, find him staring at me intensely. He pulls nearly all the way out, then pumps into me hard. “I love you so much, princess.” He takes my mouth in a punishing kiss, demanding surrender, and I give it gladly.
He can have anything he wants of me. He’s pinning me against the tile as his thrusts go deeper, harder. Our moans echo off the tiles. He feels so good; everything feels so good. I’m riding him pretty hard, despite having little control in this position.
“You’re going to make me come, Layna,” he says like a curse. “My little horny princess wants my come, doesn’t she?”
I use my fingernails on the back of his shoulders to get better leverage. “I can’t wait.”
“You’re so greedy. Greedy for my cock. Greedy for my come.”
His words touch that place in my brain that turns off everything but wanting to breed like animals. It’s like he actually pulls a lever inside me that makes me numb to anything but my base instincts. No logic in the world can overwhelm my desire for him to fill me up right now. “Give me a baby, Rogan. God, you…”
“What, sweetheart?” he asks and slows his pumping hips, teasing me and making me crazier. “Finish your sentence.”
“You turn me into such a slut. I can’t think when you’re inside me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. You can be my slut, baby. You just come and get this cock whenever you need it. My horny little slut.” He keeps the slow pace and I think I might kill him. The graceful glide is electric, but I want a pounding fuck now. I try to egg him on with a bite to his ear, but he only laughs.
“Rogan,” I groan, trying to angle my hips.
“Easy, sweetheart. There’s no rush.”
“Please. I need…I need…”
“I’m going to give you everything you need. You know I will.” He slams hard, thrusting all the way in and then holds still. “I always give my girl what she needs.” He slams into me again and then holds still again. “I know your pussy craves my cock. I can feel all that cream you make just for me. It’s all over my dick how much you want me.”
“Please,” I moan. I need to come. I need him to come.
“You didn’t get that shot this month. Every time we fuck, we get closer to making a baby. Is that what you want?”
“Yes!” I cry out. I want it so much. It will likely be months before I can get pregnant, my doctor told me.
He’s holding me still again. “You make me feel fucking feral.” He buries his face in my neck and nibbles on my neck. In a surprise move, he bites me while he thrusts again. “Need to mark you.”
“Do it.” I’m on sensory overload. The stinging bites on my neck, the stretching of my pussy, the deep need for him to come inside me—all of it was making me crazy.
“You have the sweetest, tightest, most perfect pussy.” He’s tense all over, his corded muscles bulging. “Tell me what you need,” he orders.
“I just need you. Only you.”
“I’m about to give you more than you can handle.” He’s thrusting in and out now, plunging into me in hard, deep motions. But he stops again. “Marry me.”
“What? Rogan, please fuck me—”
“Marry me. Please.”
Time stops. I can’t hear the water from the shower, I can’t see past his warm eyes. The whole world has stopped turning for this one moment. All he wants is me, a voice inside tells me. I’ve been stubbornly holding out on the wedding front. I don’t know why. I want to marry him. He says he wants to marry me. I’m just afraid that I’ve sort of forced him into this domestic relationship with all my drama, and I want him to be sure he never regrets me.
He’s shown me nothing but love and care. He makes me laugh. He makes me feel safe. And somehow, I fill a space inside him, too. It’s a miracle, and I’d be a fool to ever let it get away from me.
I’m a lot of things, but a fool is not one.
“I’ll marry you.”
He smiles. “Say it again.”
“I’ll marry you. I love you. I vow to be your biggest pain in the ass until the end of time. I’m yours. Always.”
He squeezes me as he kisses me deep, and though he’s not thrusting, we’re standing still, I start coming on his cock, squeezing his cock inside me until he follows. We sort of melt to the shower floor on legs on longer able to hold us up, but we’re still kissing.
“Say it again.”
“The water is getting cold.”
“Say it,” he warns.
“I’ll marry you.”
“That’s my girl.”
He reaches up to turn the water off. I pretty much crawl out of the shower and grab our towels. “So, about dinner
…”
“We’re having sandwiches again, aren’t we?”
I flash my pearly whites—since flashing my boobs is already being done. “Sorry. You’re the one who wants to marry a woman with zero skills in the kitchen.”
“I like sandwiches.”
“I like you, Lance Rogan.”
And I do. I love him, of course, but I also like him very much. I was sure I would never make myself vulnerable, not after watching my mom lose herself so completely to grief that she let Alan into our lives.
But this man—this burly, gigantic, hulky man—gives me more than love. He gives me courage. And, if I’m not mistaken, he’s going to make me a sandwich even though it’s my night to cook.
That’s true love, folks.
______
I hope you loved these two as much as I did. Check out the sneak peek of the next Blue Collar Bad Boys book…the bricklayer and the babysitter. UNF
Conner
I’m in over my head with these kids, but I’m all the family they have left after my sister and her husband are killed. I’m a bricklayer, what do I know about twin baby girls? Nothing. Thank God for the sweet girl-next-door.
But she’s a blessing and a curse.
I’ve practically moved the poor girl in to help me care for these babies, but playing house is stirring up all kinds of feelings that should never see the light of day. I know she’s got a crush on me, but what I want to do to her body would crush her innocence forever.
She’s too sweet, too innocent, and way too young for a perv like me.
Cassidy
Mr. Webster is trying so hard to do the right thing, take care of everyone. But who takes care of him? I know under normal circumstances, I would hardly even register on his radar, but lately, when he looks at me, I feel like there’s more between us than there should be. Maybe more than he wants.