COWBOY ROMANCE: Devon (Western Contemporary Alpha Male Bride Romance) (The Steele Brothers Book 2)

by Amanda Boone

  The man’s name was lost on his tongue. It didn’t carry the same feeling as it had before. He tried to gauge her reaction. There was something akin to acceptance in her eyes and it amazed him how easily she seemed to process the last few days. “Well then. Is he away?”

  Away could mean so many things. He nodded and grimaced with the taste of more of his own medicine. “You will not have to worry about him anymore. This I promise you.”

  “Anymore arch enemies that I should know about?”

  He looked over at her surprised. “Sorry, too soon? Have to make light of it or it will drive me crazy. I feel like you may need more time than I do Charles. I wish there was some way that I could make you feel better and forget for just a little while.”

  She already had, though she didn’t know it. Setting the glass down, he moved around the counter towards her. His kiss made her eyes flutter shut and then he grabbed her up, setting her on the counter. “We need to check your head first.”

  “I’m fine Charles. Fit to play.”

  Chayla laced her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. His mouth was insistent and her thighs wrapped around his hips. She had no intentions of letting him go. Charles quickly lost the battle as his lips and tongue pulled him in.

  Charles lifted her up and she clung to him as he walked her to his bedroom. Her lips continued to suckle and lick on him. Their contact broke as he threw her down onto the soft mattress. His body covered her immediately, his hips pushing her further down onto the soft surface. Charles was ready and it was clear by the hardness pressing against her. His mouth and hands felt everywhere, touching and caressing her soft curves that moved beneath him.

  Chayla was done waiting, afraid that his phone would ring and send him away. Her hand went between their bodies and she gripped his hardness in her hand, squeezing enough to make him growl. His teeth grazed against her neck and she started to rub his shaft slowly through the barrier. She whimpered and rubbed her panties against his length. The skirt was up on her waist, leaving her lower half bare save for some wet panties from before.

  Each time her hips rose up to meet his length, Charles grew more restless. Finally he moved her hand away and then nipped at her hard nipples through her shirt. She was gagging with need and was not ready to wait any longer. His mouth was moving down her body and was moving towards the top of her thighs, dangerously close to her sensitive need.

  “Please I am ready. I want you now.” Her thighs closed, denying admittance and she pushed him back on his heels. Chayla was more than ready and all she could think about was unleashing the fat cock she kept feeling. Her hands went to his front as he sat up. She didn’t even try to both with his shirt. She was clear about what part of him she wanted at that moment.

  He moved back and stood at the edge of the bed. His hands were steadier and he was quickly pulling down his pants and boxers. When he stood back up, his length pointed towards her, begging for touch. Chayla had to touch him, her finger grasping the silken rod. He moaned and spurred her on. She moved her mouth closer, taking a lick of his salty head. Engulfing the tip in her mouth, his groan made her panties even wetter. She squeezed her thighs together to dispel the throb, but it seemed to do very little good.

  Her mouth took in as much of him as she could. When he hit the back of her throat, she would contract her throat muscles and wait for the resulting grunt or groan. Chayla wanted more and she pushed him as deep as she could. She was soaked and dying for penetration, though strangely drawn to the feel of him against her throat. Chayla was unable to stop, the taste of his desire intoxicating. He finally pushed her away with a grunt and moved back on the bed. His body covered hers, grabbing her and pulling her back towards the middle. Her legs opened in invitation, dying for his length. “Please Charles. I need you inside of me.”

  The words felt wrong after going so long without them. Words seemed out of place with the moans and groan of need taking over the space. His hand went underneath her skirt and ripped her undies off in his eagerness. It sent more fluid to her core and she lifted her hips up. Finally his skin was on her slickness and she whimpered with the contact. His eyes held hers for a moment before he bent down to kiss her, his length pressing deep with the action.

  Chayla saw stars behind her eyes, her walls stretched as he filled her full. She gasped as his mouth moved over hers to take away the sound. She clenched him hard, his cock throbbing deep inside of her. Charles started to pull out slowly, her pussy gripping his length as he left her. Plunging forward again, her thighs moved wider and higher, loving the new position that it brought. His cockhead pushed against her womb, filling every space that she had to offer.

  “Oh God Chayla.” Charles tried to keep it together. Her silken folds sheathed him in wet, heat and suffocated his length as she squeezed him gently with her quim. Chayla’s eyes were closed, her lips pursed. He kissed her softly, while his fat cock piston in and out of her deeply. Chayla’s nails bit into his shoulders as he pushed her higher than she had been before. Her body tense and her insides milked him as he gritted his teeth to the pressure around him. It had been so long and she felt so good.

  Then she was screaming his name, thrashing underneath him as the hot ball inside of her started to melt down. Her muscles contracted and then release overcame her. It was too much for the man and he slammed forward in a blur, his own bliss just out of reach. He jerked her ass closer and slid deeper into her abyss. “Chayla, yes. Oh fuck.”

  His blast of seed was hot and she cried out with another wave of pleasure. Her hips were the ones moving, desperately trying to get more of his softening cock. Charles finally pulled out and lay next to her, breathing hard.

  Chayla was not finished and she grabbed his still-hard length and climbed over his body. She settled down on top of his, groaning as he filled her. It felt too good to stop and Chayla started to move her hips slowly, squeezing him back to life. It grew inside of her, soon thrusting deep against her bottom. Her eyes closed and she touched her stomach where it pushed outward from his inner penetration. Charles moved his hand to hers and moved her fingers to her quim. They rubbed together, the dual stimulation bringing her to new heights.

  She was soon lost to his upward rutting and playful hands, tugging on her dark tips. Chayla tried to keep up, but her body practically collapsed against him when another wave of bliss moved over her. She slid off of him before he was finished and Charles mounted her from behind, pulling her ass high to slide back in.Chayla moaned and buried her face into the mattress as his body slammed her over and over again from behind.

  When he finally pulled away and released her, they were both breathing hard. She nestled against his chest and was quickly asleep, wrapped in his safe arms. Sleep took longer for Charles, holding her tightly against his chest. He felt like he had been given a second chance and he was never going to let her go.

  THE END

  Coming Home

  Chapter 1: It started with a box

  My relationship with Adam was, well, tumultuous, to say the least. We had gone to the same college and were both business majors. I wanted to go into hotel management while he had his sights set on the corporate ladder, namely the top rung. The first thing I fell in love with about Adam was his passion. If there was something he wanted, he went after it and didn’t let up until it was his. Our friends used to joke that it was the reason we were together in the first place, which always made me feel a little uneasy.

  We met at a party under unusual circumstances. I had gotten myself locked in the bathroom, which for anyone else would just have been mildly embarrassing. For me, it was a nightmare. I’m extremely claustrophobic. I’m not sure why. I joke that it’s because I couldn’t stand being inside my mother’s womb for longer than I had to be, but I honestly can’t place my finger on why small spaces affect me so dramatically. I was in the bathroom for a solid twenty-three minutes before Adam wandered past and heard my sobbing and my knuckles weakly dragging down the wood.

  I
don’t think it was the fact that he had released me from my tomb that made me get coffee with him the next day, but it was that he hugged me. A perfect stranger, a mushy pile of tears and sweat on the dirty bathroom floor of a college co-ed’s apartment. It takes a certain kind of person to be willing to put aside the possibility that I was covered in vomit or had an angry boyfriend waiting down the hall to just sit and hug a person in the middle of a party to make them feel safe.

  On our third year of living together, Adam asked me to marry him. I was only twenty-four and hadn’t quite struck it big post-graduation. He, on the other hand, was already on the sales floor at an insurance firm in Manhattan. I was envious, of course, but he never put any pressure on me to perform. In fact, he supported the idea of me staying at home and being his “trophy wife”. While the notion of being a homemaker was alluring, I knew I wanted more for myself. What was the point of going to college if I didn’t have any intention of using my degree?

  I agreed to marry him under the condition that we stay engaged until I found a job that I loved and was successful at. He agreed and everything was wonderful. Or so I thought.

  At his company’s Christmas party that year, I walked in on him have sex with his boss’s assistant in the coat check. I told him I expected more than a cliché. He told me he expected more than sex once a week. I went home in a cab and he didn’t come home that night.

  “It’s over,” I said to my mother on the phone that night, weeping into my faded college sweatshirt’s sleeve.

  “Honey, I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding,” I could hear my mother biting her bottom lip in despair.

  “How can you misunderstand your fiancé fucking another woman?” I shakily grabbed my glass of pinot off the coffee table Adam and I agonized over buying. Everything in the house had Adam all over it, if only because it was his money that bought it. I hated him. I hated everything around me.

  “I know you’re upset, Nellie. Would you like to come home? Stay with us for a while?” The idea of living under my mother’s roof was sickening. My parents were divorced, had been for quite some time, and my mother remarried after seven years. Her husband’s name was Bob. Seriously. Just Bob. I even checked his license once – it read “Bob”. He was a retired high school gym teacher and looked like one, too. He spent his days watching football, talking about how, if it weren’t for his knee injury, he could have been a contender. I don’t know why, but I just can’t trust a person who willingly drinks and enjoys Miller Lite.

  “No, Mom, thanks.” I rolled my eyes and sniffed hard, mucous clogging my nasal passages in the most inconvenient way.

  “Well, what are your plans, Janelle?” I hated when my mother used my full name. I could imagine her eyes narrowing and was preparing for her voice to get shrill and nagging. “You can’t live with the man anymore. He’s going to kick you out eventually.”

  “Yes, Mom. Very helpful. Thank you.” I curled my feet underneath me on the couch, welcoming my cat, Tweety, onto my lap. She was being very affectionate that night, even though I read that cats never give a shit about anything, ever. No matter the circumstances. As my mother rambled on, I wondered if maybe Tweety had an itch she just couldn’t scratch or maybe if I just didn’t smell like her anymore, so she’s reapplying her stink. As the words “embarrassment” and “judging” filtered in, I told my mother I had to get off the phone.

  “Alright. Well, call me tomorrow. I love you, Nel.” For the first time in the conversation, I actually felt as if my mother was sad for me.

  “Love you too, Ma.” I hung up the phone and immediately began sobbing violently. It was so loud that Tweety scampered away and hid underneath the dining room table, another piece of furniture that Adam and I fought over. My argument was that we would never need a table that sat twelve guests and he argued that having it might make us more social. As I tried to bait her out from underneath it with a toy mouse, the doorbell rang. I questioned opening it in my state, but to hell with what I looked like.

  “Hey, oh, my God, what happened?” It was Laura, one of my closest friends, both physically and metaphysically. I started crying all over again.

  “He’s a pig, Laura!” I screamed and it felt wonderful. “He’s a worthless pig and I hate him! And it’s over! It is over!” Laura ushered me into the house with the casserole dish she had borrowed earlier that week and was, undoubtedly, returning to me.

  “Why? What happened?” we sat down on the couch and I calmed myself, though I still sounded like a congested toddler when I spoke.

  “We had his big Christmas party in the city tonight and, like, halfway through dinner I notice that he’s not around,” Laura nods incessantly, “and then, so, I got up from the table, and I looked so cute tonight, I swear. I looked like a million bucks. Everybody thoughts so. And so, and so I walked around the banquet hall and couldn’t spot him, so I thought maybe his boss, I don’t know, took him outside or something, to smoke a cigar or something like that. So I went to coat check to get my jacket so that I could, you know, go outside, and I see them.”

  “Who?” her eyes got wide and I thought she’d look even better with a bowl of popcorn in her lap.

  “Adam and some chick named Amber or Crystal or, I don’t know, some other stupid noun like that, in a slutty red dress. In the coat check. Having sex! She is his boss’s assistant!” I screamed and covered my mouth with the tissue I had just about used up. Laura gasped.

  “What a cliché!”

  “I know! That’s what I said! I told him that it was a cliché and that I deserved better than that. At least be on the roof or something.”

  “Oh my God, Nell. I’m so sorry.” She put her hand on my shoulder as I shook with rage. “Where is he now?”

  “Hell! I hope that’s where he is.” I sat up straight and sniffed back more tears. “I don’t know. He’s probably sleeping at her place.” Just saying the words made me want to vomit. Laura stayed with me for the rest of the night, made sure I got to bed, and went home.

  My eyes were swollen when I woke up and I spent most of the morning shrinking away from the light like a vampire. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal, but didn’t eat it. Tweety helped herself to the milk as I combed through the paper that was on my doorstep looking for apartments. Laura offered that I move in with her for a few weeks, until I found a place. I ruefully accepted. When my cell phone rang, the sound sliced through my head like a hacksaw.

  “Hello?” I answered bleakly.

  “Babe?” It was Adam. I hung up the phone immediately and my eyes began to burn with new tears. The phone rang again. I silenced it. The phone rang again. And again. And again. I justified answering it by telling myself I wouldn’t say a word. “Nellie?” I said nothing. “Nellie, it’s me.” I sighed. “Listen, I want to talk to you about what happened last night. I was drunk and my boss, he urged me to do it. Said that everyone who makes partner sleeps with their boss’s secretaries.”

  “Assistant.” I corrected.

  “Listen, Baby, it was nothing. A rite of passage. To get me ahead. It’s not like I love her or anything. I love you.” I remained silent. “I know you need some time.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t ever want to see you again. I’ve thought long and hard about it and, you know what? I’ve decided that you’re a piece of trash and so is your hot new girlfriend.”

  “Nellie, just don’t. Don’t act like we’re not going to get back together after this.”

  “I hate you.” I hung up the phone. It rang again. I didn’t answer it this time. Instead of trying again, Adam settled for a text message with the address of the corporate suite he was staying in. He explained he’d stay there as long as I wanted him to. That I could have the house and that the sacrifice of not living there with me should be proof enough that he’s sorry. I told him I wouldn’t need long to get all of my stuff out.

  For the next week, I began packing up my things in boxes and looking for apartments. Every afternoon at 3:00pm, a dozen long stemmed red roses ar
rived at my door and every afternoon at 3:05pm, a dozen long stemmed red roses landed in the trash can. At first, I read the notes that came with them, full of “I’m sorry”s and “please forgive me”s. After the third day, I stopped reading them. I expected this from Adam. As I explained before, he was a very passionate man. To a fault.

  That Friday, I had my first job interview. A new Bed and Breakfast had opened up a few miles away and they were looking for a manager. While it wasn’t the most illustrious of hotels, it was something. Laura had told me I could catch a ride with her that day as my car was having some trouble with the whole running thing. I kissed Tweety goodbye and walked out onto the porch, waiting for Laura to arrive.

  “Hey!” I heard a man’s voice shout to me. I jumped and looked over to neighbor’s lawn. A man dressed in a knitted cap and a heavy black jacket that looked to be about three sizes too big for him made his way across the snow covered yard. I walked down a few steps and met him at my walkway. “Hi, I’m Brian.” His smile was perfect. His teeth were nice and straight, pearly white, and his lips curled around them exquisitely. He was very handsome. I was quite taken by his shining blue eyes and how they reflected the white snow around us.

  “Hi Brian, I’m Nellie.” I reached out and we shook hands, cordially.

  “I just moved in,” he thumbed behind him to the house that had been vacant next door for years.

  “Oh, that’s nice. I was wondering when someone would.”

  “How long have you been here?” he asked, his breath condensing in the cold air.

  “A few years. I’m actually moving soon. My fiancé and I lived here together.” I paused, realizing I had just created a very awkward first impression. “But, that’s a whole big thing. So, yeah.” I smiled, trying to save face. He nodded and chuckled.