Changing Lanes (Highway 17 #1)

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Changing Lanes (Highway 17 #1) Page 5

by Leaona Luxx


  “I loved it, don’t worry about it. I love her, but she’s too damn nosy.” Torrie kisses me.

  I spin her around, hauling her against me. “I’m crazy about you. It may be too fast, but I’ll be damned if I hold back another minute.” Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed, all in. Sliding my right hand down to the small of her back, I press her against me. Nipping at her lips, I look at her mischievously as her lips part, and I slide my tongue through. Our tongues tangle as she sighs, and my thumb rubs her neck, exactly where I want my lips.

  Pulling away, I ease back, catching her bottom lip between my teeth and then placing a light kiss on it. Torrie slowly opens her eyes, dazed and consumed by my effect on her. People around us are watching, some catcalling, but all I see is her, knowing this is a moment to last a lifetime. The moment I know, we are falling in love.

  Hand in hand, we go back to our seats. We watch the rest of the game sitting so close together, not even the popcorn fits between us. She leans in, whispering in my ear, “I’m not sure I can wait much longer. I want you terribly, Brannon. I’m falling fast and hard, country boy.” Her breath grazing my ear, her words warming my heart.

  I twist my head toward her, running my nose over hers, I press my lips to hers. No one else exists as we continue discovering new things about one another, even the smallest things become important to know. I have never talked so much to one person, learning so much about them. Although our time has been short together, her soul knows mine.

  I love her opening up about her father, but I also adore the little things. She tells me she likes cheesecake but prefers a single piece of chocolate. I explain my love of Butter Brickle, a heavy dessert with toffee in it but it’s so worth it. She’s never been fishing, but she loves tilapia. I’ve never eaten snails, but I’ve fished with them.

  Torrie prefers water as her favorite beverage, I prefer sweet tea. She asks for the recipe and swears she’s going to make some. Surf and turf is her favorite meal, we have that in common. We even like our steaks medium-well. History documentaries and old black and white television shows are just a few other common interests we share.

  The walk home is chilly, and Torrie shudders beside me. I wrap my arm tightly around her shoulders. “You okay? Need my hoodie?” I ask.

  “No, I think this will help.” She slides her arm around my waist, snuggling closer.

  “You know, we could spend some time on the beach next summer. If you wanted to?” I offer.

  “That sounds amazing. I’ll daydream about my toes in the sand while we walk home.” She shivers.

  “You keep talkin’ like you did at the game, and I’ll be happy to warm you up.” I squeeze her shoulder.

  “Oh, you liked that, did you?” She looks up at me.

  “You damn well know you got the response you wanted. Keep it up.” I wrap my arms around her.

  “Can you give me an example as to what would happen if I didn’t stop? Like, show me.” She giggles.

  “Oh, I’m gonna show you alright.” I reach down and slap her on the ass. She squeals.

  “Bran, you did not just do that.” She isn’t hurt, she’s smiling.

  “Keep it up, babe.” I lean in and kiss her.

  It’s a rare thing to meet your soulmate at such a young age, but Torrie’s dark draws my light and my dark diminishes in her presence. There’s an unspoken need with both share, yet we both recognize it in the other.

  I see it when she speaks of her father, it’s his love she misses the most. My heart knows a longing such as this, I miss my dad as well. Her self-assuredness is wrapped up in her father’s opinion of her. She needs to accept that she may never get it.

  Her apartment is dark when we walk in, all the better. She lays her keys down, reaching for the light switch. Taking her hand in mine, I twist our fingers together as I haul her back to me. She giggles, but it doesn’t last long. When I push her against the door, her breath catches.

  She takes a step toward me, and I unlace our hands, pushing her back in place. Running my hand up her thigh, I rest it just under the cheek of her ass. Lowering my mouth to her neck, my lips part as they touch her neck, light as a feather.

  Once my lips are at the base of her ear, I whisper, “When I take you, you’ll be mine forever.” Slowly, I kiss her jaw and neck. She gasps, then exhales as I continue to nuzzle her neck. Her lips part, releasing a moan, and she digs her fingers into my hips.

  “I already am.” She breaths.

  Everything in me seizes, my stomach flipping over from her words. I’ve spent so long guarding my heart and trying to make good decisions, that it’s not until now I realize when it comes to an affair of the heart, there is no control. Love is your hearts master and you are its slave.

  Placing small kisses on her jaw, I work my way to her lips. She opens immediately for me, taking my mouth as she does my heart, fast and easy. Her soft lips work my mouth as I twist my tongue with hers. She nips my top lip, and I bite her bottom.

  Her legs spread as she rides my thigh, and my hands work wildly on her, one on her breast and one on her ass. “Brannon,” she moans, hot as fuck, sighing with every rough breath I take. My cock strokes her pussy through our jeans, making me harder and her wet.

  The heat from her core burns through my pants. Our breathing becoming more uneven, our mouths becoming one. Our tongues fight against each other as our kiss becomes frenzied, taking the same pace my heart does. Her hands pull tighter on my hair as I sink my fingers into her hips as we attempt to get even closer.

  Our tongues moving with the same vigor as the blood through our pulsating veins. Molding into one as we stand here, going all in for our love.

  I’m not sure if it’s the warmth of being in his arms or if it’s supernatural, but I have the oddest dream. It’s us, years in the future. He’s still as hot as he is now. His shoulders are broader, he has a face full of hair, and his smile is still as bright. We’re holding hands as we walk across a field, tall with grass.

  The sun is bright, making me squint when I look up at him. He laughs at my wrinkled nose and kisses it repeatedly. A white, two-story house stands in the background. A makeshift rope swing hangs in the tree at the corner of the yard.

  Brannon’s head jerks up, his eyes searching the field. Turning my head from side to side, I help him search, only I have no clue what we’re looking for. Suddenly, a faint sound reverberates in my ears. Echoing so that I can’t locate where it’s coming from.

  I feel Brannon’s grip on my hand loosen. Spinning around, I watch as his hand leaves mine. The dream slows, our movements become exaggerated as we move further apart. I reach for him as he begins to turn away from me.

  I’m not entirely sure if it’s the dream or the sun beaming through my window, but I wake, agitated. Gathering my bearings, I realize, I’m alone. Sitting quickly, I scan my surroundings. The bathroom door is open, so is the bedroom door. He’s not in the kitchen.

  Shifting quickly in my seat, I glare at the lock on my front door. It’s open, he’s gone. Lowering my head, I rest it against the back of the couch. Angry. At myself and at him. Was it the damn dream? There’s more there, I know it in my gut.

  I pull myself together, freeing my mind from the despairing fog I’m consumed with. Glancing at the clock, I know my parents’ will FaceTime me shortly. Oh, the joy. My father always scrutinizes my every move. I suppose it’s a good thing Brannon’s gone, I don’t want to have my father turn his nose up at him.

  A hot shower and a few tears, I’m right as rain. Stepping out onto my bath mat, I reach into the cabinet and pat the hardwood, realizing the towels are still in the dryer. Damn it. That country boy messed me all up last night. Fuck it. I’ll streak to the laundry room.

  Rounding the corner of my bathroom, I pass my bedroom door in hot pursuit. Slipping and sliding on my emergency trek to get a towel. Shit, I’ll be dry by the time I get there. Why did my washer and dryer have to be next to the kitchen?

  A
few more steps and bam, I hit a solid wall where there isn’t supposed to be a wall. I’m slippery, so as I reach for something to stabilize me, the hands on my body slide all over me. Big, warm hands, touching me. It dawns on me, I’m holding onto a large set of biceps. Tatted and well-tanned.

  I’m not sure what happened to my self-preservation, but all bets are off when I lock eyes with my favorite color of eyes, filled with a frenzied desire. Brannon’s arms hold me tight against his chest, his hand on the small of my back as the other caresses the curve of my ass.

  “What the fuck?” I breathlessly gasp. “I went for food. The door was still unlocked. I’m sorry, Torrie, I never imagined you’d come through naked.” Smoldering hazel burns through me as he presses me closer to him.

  “A t-towel,” I stammer. His eyes flicker over me again, igniting a frenzied blaze in the depths of my core.

  “Fuck the towel.” Brannon picks me up in a fluid movement, kissing me before we take a step. “Where?” are the only words he mutters.

  “Bed. I want you in my bed.” Lacing my fingers through his wavy, chestnut hair, I smash his face to mine. His lips, soft yet commanding, yield to my wishes as he opens them for me when I run my tongue over them.

  Brannon drops me on my bed, eliciting a grunt from me. His gaze scorching a path over my body, igniting a fiery heat that coils in my lower stomach. For a moment, I think he’s going to bail. When his eyes land on mine, I catch fire from the flame. His hands begin working the buttons lose on his jeans, and I scramble up to help him shed his clothes.

  As I unzip his pants, he toes off his shoes. Grabbing his shirt, I pull it over his head in one motion, while he drops his pants on the floor. Before his knee hits the bed, I tug his underwear between my fingers and shimmy them down his massive thighs.

  The thought of him using them to pound into me makes me pant. As the underwear join his jeans, I rise on my knees to take his mouth. He meets me with a fierce growl, and the sound alone makes me wet. My nipples pebble at the touch of his lips to mine.

  We fall to the bed, tangled in one another. His thick cock lay between us, pressing into my lower stomach. He slides his hand up my side until he wraps it around my breast. Thumbing my peaked nipple, I buck when he bites at my lip.

  My fingers trail over the line of hair on his stomach until I finger the head of his cock. He thrusts his hips forward, and his hard shaft slides through my fingers as if tempting me to take hold of it. So, I do. Palming him, I lean in as my middle finger traces the ridge of his cock. As I reach his balls, I massage ever so lightly as they tighten in my grasp.

  “Fuck, woman.” He pulls away from me, moving down the bed. I rise to follow him, but he places his palm flat against my stomach and urges me to lay back. He watches with hooded eyes as my hair fans out around me. “I’ll tangle my fingers in that mane of yours in a minute but first, I’m hungry.” He licks his lips.

  Brannon sits back on his heels, laying his palms on my knees. He spreads them slightly, never looking away from me. Watching as if the most precious prize is being laid before him. His hands trail my inner thighs, spreading me wider as he reaches my pussy.

  His thumb rubs over my lips and through the smattering of hair. Pulling my lip between my teeth, I summon all my strength to keep my legs apart for him. The need to squeeze my thighs together to ease the thrumming between them is almost unbearable.

  He circles my inner thighs before settling his hands on each side of my pussy, spreading it before him. My legs tremble as he lowers his face to my waiting clit. When his tongue flicks over it, his eyes lock with mine. He circles the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue, and on the third pass, he flattens it and laps me from core to clit.

  I shudder before grabbing handfuls of sheets to anchor me. The second lick of his warm, wide tongue makes me scream and groan with appreciation. Brannon licks me as he brings his tongue to a tip and circles my clit in one sleek motion. It’s flawless and erotic as hell that he can work my pussy the way he can with his tongue. Fucking gifted.

  He blesses me with a few more tongue runs before his fingers join the party. Placing one inside me, he works my wetness from within me. He places a second finger in as he flicks my clit. Working his fingers simultaneously with the tip of his tongue makes me buck from the bed. I’m hanging onto the edge of his masterful orgasm when he tips the scale.

  Curling his fingers back, he runs over my G-spot, producing praises from me. On the verge of ecstasy. He removes his index finger, allowing his long middle finger to glide deep. Leaning back, his palm hits my clit and begins to pump me furiously with his finger, his palm working my clit.

  The second he curls his finger, dragging it up and out, he places his lips on my clit and begins to suck. The guttural outburst from me is nothing in comparison to the eruption within my core. He elicits an orgasm to the likes of which there is no comparison.

  Floating back to the bed, the sparks behind my eyes are still firing when I hear the telltale rip before I feel him lay over me. My legs are too weak to wrap around him as he positions himself before me. Cupping my ass, he runs his hand over my thigh and down to my knee, hitching it over his hip.

  “Torrie? Are you ready, baby?” I’ve never been ready for anything more than I am right now. Forcing my eyes open, I release my lip to murmur an answer.

  “Yes. God, yes.” He chuckles deep in his throat, it’s laced with fervent intensity.

  To show him how ready I am, I muster the strength to hook my other leg around his hip. I’m rewarded with a growl. His cock bobs, rubbing against my pussy. Gasping, I dig my heels into his hips. He presses in, his cock entering me slowly.

  Inch by amazing inch, he fills me. I knew he was gifted, but his girth and length took me by surprise. Parting my lips, I drag a ragged breath to steady myself, hoping to relax and become acclimated to him. When his lips brush mine, I open my eyes to see him nose to nose with me.

  “You alright?” Could he get any better?

  “Uhuh,” I mumble. He runs his nose up mine, kissing the tip before leaning back.

  “You sure?” He searches my eyes, making sure when I say yes, I mean it.

  “Yes, babe.” I nod with my answer.

  He gives me a wry grin and begins to move. I’m going to be sore as hell. Thank, fuck. Slowly, he drags his thick cock from me to the tip before sliding ever so diligently deep within me. In and out until he builds his pace. Finding our rhythm, my hips rise to meet his every thrust.

  Our bodies meet so close, there are no sounds in the room except for our pants and groans. Grunting as he fills me to the max, I moan when he slides out. He buries his face in my neck, and I turn into his, sinking my teeth in. Nipping him as he pounds my pussy, loving the fullness.

  He slides his hand over my nipple before separating us by a mere inch, landing on my clit. With a few quick rubs, I squeeze him between my thighs, releasing my second orgasm with as much vigor as the first time. To which, Brannon follows. Both of us praising the other as we kiss, coming back to reality.

  After we gather ourselves, Brannon rolls to my side, pulling me close to him. He’s quiet. Almost too quiet, and it worries me. I’m not sure if I should say something. Ask if he’s okay or just let it be. The longer I lay here in his arms, the more I know, he was meant to come into my life. He groans with movement and finally talks.

  “You alright?” His breath races across my ear, where my hair tickles me. I twitch. “So, I make you twitch?” He chuckles when I do it again.

  “What? No. Your breath blew my hair over my ear, and it tickled.” He laughs again.

  “That your story?” What the hell? I’m worried, and he’s accusing me of twitching. Turning in his arms, I face him.

  “You go radio silent after an epic fuck-fest, and I’m the one who’s odd?” He stares at me, never blinking. My belly begins churning, I’m flipping shit inside.

  “Epic fuck-fest? I was thinking ultimate, but okay.” He shrugs with a wink. Such a smartass.

 
“Seriously?” I scrunch my face up in disbelief, I allow my insecurities to get the better of me.

  “Torrie, what’s wrong?” Lifting my chin, he encourages me to look at him. I study his face, seeing his playful grin appear tells me I’m overthinking this time.

  Shaking my head to rid the thoughts, I answer, “Nothing.”

  He tightens his full lips, waiting on me. When I still don’t respond, he does. “I’m young. I’m gonna make mistakes. But if you think I’m gonna call this one, you’re wrong.” He stares at me until I acknowledge his words.

  “So, you don’t regret it?” I ask, taken aback. I remember what he said. “You know, because of her.”

  “No. I’ve fought asking you out for weeks. I knew when I came here, I had better damn well accept my fate.” Well, that’s an open book.

  “Okay.” What more could I ask from him? He kisses my forehead.

  “I need to hit the bathroom. By the way, your phone has been ringing.” He bends over before standing, it’s then I realize he had tied off his condom. Rolling my eyes, I admonish myself for screwing up.

  “Thanks for that.” I point to the condom.

  “You’re welcome. We didn’t take the time to cover this so I did,” he replies as he walks to the bathroom.

  “I take Depo, for future reference. I do appreciate it, though.” He nods, turns, and closes the door.

  As soon as the door closes, I jump from my bed and sprint to the living room. I scan it for my phone, there on the end table. I scramble to it and find five missed calls. Fuck. I’ve got to call them back. Just as I think it, it rings again.

  I toss it to the couch like it can see me. What the hell. Okay, calm down. Clothes, you need clothes. I sprint to the kitchen, throwing my dryer open. I grab the first decent thing I see and drag it over my head. Now, pants.

  After I find clothes, I run back to look in the mirror. Raking my fingers through my hair, I flip my head over, gather it quickly, and grab the tie. But it’s not there. I run my hand over the table a few more times before raising up to look properly. Brannon is standing there with the tie in his fingers and his v all puffed up.

 

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