The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2)

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The Cattleman (Sons of Texas Book 2) Page 6

by Anna Jeffrey


  Her knees found purchase on the bed and she crouched on her hands and knees. He leaned over her, fit the length of his blue-steel erection into the cleft of her bottom and released a groan of unadulterated pleasure. He slid open-mouthed kisses across her shoulders, the taste and scent of her fragrant skin intoxicating. At the same time, he glided his hands down her ribs and over the rise of her hips.

  “You feel like silk,” he whispered, hooking his fingers in the elastic waist of those tiny panties. With shaking fingers, he watched himself peel them down, admiring the porcelain-like perfection of her bare bottom. He trailed his open mouth over it, skimmed his fingers along the seam of it and bit into her ass cheek.

  She gave a little cry and tried to shift and spread her knees, but couldn’t, bound as she was by her panties. Her breath came in shallow pants. “Pic. I can’t move.”

  He hung on with his teeth and dipped his middle digit into her sex, pushed it deeply into her smooth wet channel. Her vaginal muscles clutched it and her bottom lifted to him. He added a second finger as an ache passed through his lower abdomen. He needed to come, but he couldn’t until she did. He began to count cattle passing through a corral gate.

  Barely holding on to control, he trailed licks and kisses back up to her shoulders, bit into the soft place where her shoulder joined her neck and at the same time, splayed his hand over her belly, anchoring her in place. She gasped. He curved his finger inside her wet warmth and rubbed, seeking that elusive sweet spot. She grunted and her hands fisted the covers.

  “Good?” He worked his finger rhythmically. “Go ahead and come, baby.…”

  A low sound rasped from her throat and an instant later, she sobbed out and her muscles contracted against his finger with amazing strength, nearly wiping out his tenuous control. Before she finished, he pulled out his finger.

  “Oh, no! Not yet,” she cried, shifting from knee to knee.

  “Easy, baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He dropped to the floor in a squat and leaned into her, nuzzled her wet, slick sex. Her woman’s scent hit him like a blast, tightening his balls. He parted her swollen lips with his fingertips, smoothed her crisp brown curls out of his way.

  Her opening was flexing hard and she was mewing and whimpering, her hips swaying from side to side. “Don’t tease me, Pic….Please…”

  He loved hearing her plead, loved the feeling of power and control. “Not teasing.” He clasped the outside of her trembling thighs, stilling her. Holding her in place, he rimmed her creamy opening with the tip of his tongue. He loved the taste of her pussy. He alternately penetrated and suckled, humming his own pleasure against her flesh. She moaned and whimpered. Her muscles reflexively tried to draw his tongue deeper.

  When she began to make little grunting noises, he dragged his tongue down the length of her cleft and found her clit plumped and wet. He took his time fluttering his tongue over the tiny pearl. She whined and begged. He smoothed his hands over her firm ass, slid a thumb into the cleft of her bottom and found her little pucker; at the same time he sucked her clit into his mouth.

  She gasped and cried out and climaxed instantly. “Oh!...Oh, my God!...Pic!” Her knees tried to work, but he held her in place while he sucked her clit with a steady rhythm. She whined like a puppy until on a breathless outcry, she peaked again, but he didn’t stop, making her orgasm go on and on.

  All at once, she twisted away from his mouth, reaching back with a shaking hand, trying to rid herself of the panties binding her knees. “Pic, I can’t stand it….I’m going crazy. I need you inside me. Help me.”

  On fire with his own need, with her help, he yanked the panties from around her knees and off.

  “Here,” she said breathlessly, crawling forward on the bed, spreading her thighs wide and opening her sex with no inhibition. “Please. I’m ready.”

  And she was. Her sex was soaked, her opening convulsing, begging for his cock. He got to his feet, crawled onto the bed and knelt behind her. His instinct was to plunge into her, but he couldn’t. He hadn’t been inside her in a month. His knees and thighs trembling, his jaw tight, he gave her an inch, watching and feeling himself disappear into her tight heat, relishing how her muscles clenched around him. He paused a beat letting her adjust to his size.

  “Pic, don’t stop…. Please.”

  He slid in another inch, paused, then shoved all the way to the root in one stroke. She gave a yelp and clawed at the bed covers. A primitive growl tore out of his own chest. He caught his breath and grit his teeth, straining not to go off. “Okay?” he choked out.

  “Oh, God,” she said breathlessly. “Oh, God, Pic….It’s so good….So big…I’m so hot…”

  On a groan, he pulled out, all the way to the tip, savoring the glide and drag of her tight sheath against his cock. No matter how many times they fucked, he always marveled at how tight she was. When he shoved back into her, she made another little cry. “’Sokay, ’sokay,” he soothed. “Jesus, baby, you’re tight as a glove.”

  He began to move. He meant to go slow, but after only two strokes, he was firmly gripping her hips, holding her against his pelvis, pumping fast, lost in delicious hot friction and choking out sex words, egging her on to another orgasm.

  Her breath soughed. She sank to her elbows, taking him so deep he might never find his way out. “Aww, God, Mandy,” he huffed, as breathless as if he had run a mile. “I’ve never been so hard…. Feel me?...Feel me, baby?”

  “Yes….Yes….Faster, Pic.”

  He pounded into her fiercely, a mindless machine. Sweat sheened his body. Blindly, he hammered, lost in the ecstasy of glorious friction. Six, seven, eight times…

  And from out of the blue, an image of What’s-Her-Name’s full pink lips, her thick black hair and full breasts came to him, even her scent, nearly overwhelming him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the intrusion, but he couldn’t keep his control from faltering.

  Mandy’s deep muscles began pulling at him, yanking him into a weird fantasy of fucking the stranger in the green VW and marking her with his sperm. But before he traveled too far down that path, his lower belly tightened and blinding need seized him. Without missing a beat, he leaned over, moved his hand around Mandy’s hips and combed his fingers through her wet curls. He pressed his finger between the lips of her sex, barely touched her hard little core. She bucked against him, riding his cock and his finger, gasping and sobbing, her deep muscles convulsing and pulling at him, gloriously deviling him with indescribable bliss.

  He pressed his forehead between her sweat-slicked shoulder blades, kept his cock and his finger in place until she clenched him so hard he broke and gave in to his own release. It boiled through him like a raging tornado, drawing his balls up tight, blinding him and taking his breath. Every muscle in his body stiffened and he went off, straining and spewing his seed into her again and again, until he was empty.

  He collapsed, half on, half off her, his cheek pressed against her shoulder blades. They stayed in that position for long minutes, both of them heaving for breath. His whole body quaked and he was sweating like a racehorse. The scent of their heated bodies and sex surrounded them.

  “Oh, my God,” she mumbled into the bed covers. “Are we still alive?”

  He gathered himself and managed to press his lips against her shoulder. “Mandy, Mandy, Mandy,” he said weakly. “What you do to me….I’m weak as a new foal.”

  She moaned a small sound and sniffled. It wasn’t unusual for her to cry after they’d had extremely good sex.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She moved and his still half-hard cock slipped out of her. He scooted back and stepped off the bed, pulling her to her feet and against him. They were both drenched with sweat. “God, Mandy. If it got any better, it’d kill me.”

  She slid her arms around his middle, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, her breath heavy against his skin. “You’re still hard,” she murmured, still sniffling.

  “I know. I d
idn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  “Hold me close”

  He cupped her head and held it to his chest, wrapped his other arm around her and held her body the length of his, his dick wet and slick against her belly.

  “That was jungle sex,” she said.

  “You must have come about a dozen times,” he said, but in truth, he had lost count. You’re so hot and easy, baby. It drives me wild.”

  “I almost wish you wouldn’t say that,” she said in a small voice against his chest. “It makes me sound like I’m bad…. I can’t help it….We haven’t been together in so long….”

  He grinned and kissed her temple, then tilted up her chin and looked into her gentle brown eyes. “You’re every man’s wet dream, Mandy. You know I like that I can get you off more than once. I love the way your tight little box squeezes me when you come, those sounds you make, like you can’t get enough of me. Sometimes, after I go to bed at home, I start thinking about how hot you are and my fist has to get me through the night.”

  “But I’m not hot. I’ve never been that way with anyone but you. I still don’t understand it.”

  “It’s not a bad thing for you to like it, too. It wouldn’t be good for me if you didn’t. I’m a damn lucky man. Every guy I know would envy me if he knew how easy you are.” He kissed her, stroking her tongue with his.

  She licked her own taste from his lips, drew his tongue into her mouth and they kissed long and languorously. When they came up for air, she looked up at him. “You’re wild today. How come?”

  “It’s been so damn long.” He kissed her again.

  “I know. I was almost pacing the floor, waiting for you to get here.”

  They kissed more until she pushed away. His cum showed wet and shiny on her stomach and the inside of her thighs. “We’re a big mess.” She slid her hand down his arm, picked up his hand and kissed the back of it. He let her lead him to her small bathroom. He lowered the toilet lid and seated himself beside her vanity.

  She soaked a clean washcloth with warm water and handed it and a bar of soap to him. “You know something? There’s one thing wrong with that kind of sex. I couldn’t see your face or feel your heartbeat. I couldn’t tell if it was as good for you as it was for me.”

  If only she knew. Amanda Breckenridge was the most enthusiastic sex partner and the best lay he’d ever had. On a chuckle, he stood and washed himself. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”

  She wet another washcloth and began to wash, too. “But I do worry. I’m afraid when we both get so carried away we can’t fully appreciate each other.”

  “Is that so? You’re feeling unappreciated? You want to start over and do it all again, from a position where you can watch?”

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’m able.” She angled a smile at him. “Not for a while anyway.”

  Seeing her wash his semen from between her legs brought birth control full frontal. Abstaining between the twelfth and sixteenth days of her cycle had prevented babies for two and a half years. He tried to keep up with her menstrual cycle, but she was more diligent with the record-keeping than he was. “What is it, about the tenth day?”

  “It’s closer than that.”

  An adrenaline surge shot through his gut. The last thing he wanted was to find himself confronted with what had happened with his big brother.

  What he and Mandy were doing was insane for a man who was unprepared for fatherhood. But the pill had been bad for her skin and had other negative side effects and he hated condoms. They both hated that slimy spermicidal shit the drug stores sold. After experimenting and rejecting most of it, they had ended up using the rhythm method. STDs hadn’t been a concern between them. Pic had never doubted Mandy’s discretion and by the time he hooked up with her the second time around, his own wild and wooly days were well behind him. “Don’t say that. You’ll give me a heart attack.”

  “Why? What if it wasn’t okay? Would me having your baby be so bad?”

  “That’s not what I meant. You know that.”

  “How would I know that?”

  Pic closed his eyes and arched his brow. She wanted to hear him say he loved her. He wasn’t sure he could define love. His parents professed love and look at the mess they were. He thought he had that feeling for Mandy, but he didn’t dare say it. Those three words had consequences. They would lead to something for which he wasn’t ready. He hadn’t said them since his marriage eleven years ago.

  “We’ve been sleeping together ever since my dad died,” Mandy continued. “Over two years. We’ve known each other since I started kindergarten. It isn’t like we’re strangers or we’re too young. You’re thirty-three and on Sunday, I’ll be thirty-one. Everyone I know who’s our age has kids.”

  This wasn’t the first time for this conversation. He had always done his best to either avoid it or talk around it. And that’s what he wanted to do now. He already felt guilty for thinking about another woman during even hotter than usual sex with Mandy. “You know what’s going on with me right now, Mandy. I can’t imagine myself taking on a wife and fatherhood on top of everything else I’m trying to do.”

  “I don’t know why. Men have been managing their jobs and marriage and babies at the same time forever. Even your big brother has succumbed. He’s rebuilding half of Dallas, yet he’s gotten married and in another few months, Shannon will still have his baby. You’d be a wonderful father, Pic. Think about how much you love baby animals.”

  True, he was a cream puff when it came to baby animals. As a boy growing up, he had wanted to make a pet out of every one he saw. But he didn’t have the same emotion about baby humans. Unlike human beings, baby animals were not totally helpless. Most of them needed their mothers for only a short time and they never needed their fathers.

  Beyond that, he had rarely seen a baby unless friends in town or the wife or girlfriend of one of the ranch hands had one. He had never even held one. No way could he let her talk him into agreeing with her.

  He sighed. “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I can’t remember the last time I even saw a baby.”

  “Actually, you do know where to begin.” She angled a sly smile at him. “And I might add, you do it very well. I can’t imagine making a baby being more enjoyable than it is with you.”

  His cheeks warmed with self-consciousness and he wasn’t even a man who embarrassed easily. When they were both hotter than a prairie fire and he was buried to the hilt inside her and she told him how big he was or how good he felt, that was one thing. But when they were in the bathroom cleaning up afterward, open conversation about making babies was another.

  “Mandy. C’mon now. Let’s save that talk for later, okay?”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “But the way things are going, we really should start thinking more seriously about real birth control.”

  Ouch! That hurt. But she was right. Their opportunities for sex were erratic these days and inopportune moments were bound to happen.

  “I mean, think about it. What would happen if we hadn’t been together for a month or six weeks and you showed up when it was the wrong time of the month?”

  Chapter 6

  Leaving him with that unsettling thought, Mandy turned away and unhooked her robe from the back of the bathroom door. Pic admired her perfectly-shaped body from behind. She was tall and slim, had a swimmer’s long lean muscles. She had been swimming on Drinkwell’s pitiful swim teams since adolescence. She was like a damn fish and Pic couldn’t swim a stroke. He even feared water that was more than knee deep. Though he had lost touch with her after he got married and she left Drinkwell, he had heard she raced in college.

  He watched her slip on the pink robe and tie it closed, hiding her nakedness. “When did you cut your hair?”

  “You just now noticed it?”

  “I noticed.” He grinned. “But I had other things on my mind.”

  “Last week.” Turning toward him, she ran her fingers through it and fluffed it out
. “What do you think of it?”

  Her shiny brown hair had been past her shoulders for as long as he had known her, but now it was almost as short as his. He liked her hair long, but it was her hair. How could he tell her how to wear it? He shrugged. “It’s really short. But it’s fine.”

  “You don’t have to be so enthusiastic,” she said, laughing. She gave his shoulder a girly punch.

  Her laugh had a musical quality to it. Hearing it made him want to laugh too. “Baby, it’s fine. You look pretty no matter what length your hair is. You look like a pixie.”

  “You think so?” She turned back to the mirror and picked at a few strands. “I guess it is sort of a gamin look. I know you liked it long, but I had it cut because it wasn’t in good shape and I’m going to be in the pool more now.”

  Thank God she had dropped the talk about babies. “Why’s that?”

  “Remember me telling you about the new coaching techniques I learned at that workshop I went to in Houston? I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I’ve decided to put some of what I learned in place here. I’ve revamped my program. Believe it or not, I’ll be bringing tiny little Drinkwell’s girls’ swim team to the cutting edge of the sport.”

  Pic didn’t doubt she could accomplish this. Besides his big brother Drake, she was the most positive-thinking, goal-oriented person he knew. She had been that way even when they were teenagers. “I thought it was already cutting edge. Those girls have won two state championships.”

  “But they can be better. And I’m going to teach them things some of them can take beyond Drinkwell.”

  “Big plans, baby. Sounds like a big job.”

  “It is. I’m doing it for two reasons only. Sarah Nelson and Alicia Gonzalez. They’re two of my returning seniors. You know their families, don’t you?”

 

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