Something Reckless (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 3)

by J. L. Leslie

  Kipton does the same, raising his free arm in the air as he sings. The other cowboys join in with their off-key singing of the country song. I realize that I don’t know the song, but I like it, so I turn to face Kipton and sway my hips to the beat, my hand drifting over his chest and to the bare strip of skin where his t-shirt has ridden up. The moment my fingertips make contact with his flesh, he looks down at me.

  “Oops,” I say, snatching my hand away.

  “Hey, look!” Stuart yells, pointing at the television. “We’re on TV!”

  The rodeo highlights are on, and the once-singing crowd is now glued to the television set propped in the corner of the bar. The men give each other hell on the rides that didn’t quite make eight seconds and congratulate the successful riders. I watch Kipton’s highlight, but his eyes are on me.

  17

  Kipton

  Brynn gazes up at the television screen, watching my highlight, but I can’t take my eyes off of her. I know the alcohol loosened us up a bit, but truth is, it’s only an excuse. I’ve been waiting to get her like this. Waiting to have a moment when we let our guard down. When no one is watching us.

  “Let’s get out of here, Brynn,” I lean over and tell her.

  Without giving her a chance to think it through, I take her hand and lead her through the bar. I don’t ask if she’s staying in this hotel because I don’t give a shit. I punch the button to open the elevators and pull her inside, grateful I’m only on the third floor. When they open, I step out, but she waits inside.

  “This is my floor, Brynn,” I say when she looks at me questioningly.

  “Oh,” she laughs and steps out. “I thought you were sending me to my ‒”

  I silence her with a kiss, backing her up against the wall. She gasps in shock but opens her mouth to mine. I have a brief moment of wondering what the fuck I’m doing before I grasp her ass and lift her, smiling against her lips when she wraps her legs around my waist.

  I close my mouth over hers again, enjoying the way our tongues dance with each other, sliding together as we kiss and nip each other’s lips. When I reach my room, I manage to get my key out of my pocket and unlock the door.

  “But, wait,” Brynn says. “What about your ride? The highlights?”

  Thank fuck, I thought she was going to tell me to stop this nonsense. I step inside my room and let the door click shut behind me.

  “There’s only one ride I’m worried about right now,” I tell her with a grin.

  She shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it to the floor. “Kipton, I’ll ride you so good you’ll think I’m the rodeo champ.”

  Lord, almighty, help me with this one.

  “Is that right?” I ask, pressing her back to the door.

  Brynn nods, a lazy smile spreading across her beautiful face. With me holding her up, she grips the hem of my t-shirt and pulls it up and off, trailing her fingertips through the light dusting of hair on my chest. She trails lower and dips her hands between us, unbuckling my pants. When she takes me into her hands, I groan, resting my forehead on hers.

  “God, I’ve wanted this,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t, but I have.”

  “We’re drunk, Kipton,” Brynn whispers back, kicking her boots off. “So fucking drunk.”

  I lean back, studying her face. Her eyes are hooded, lips parted and swollen from my kisses. She’s right. We are fucking drunk and using that as an excuse to do something we might regret.

  “But I don’t care,” she says, rubbing the head of my cock against her panties. They’re fucking soaked. “Just fuck me tonight, and let’s not give a shit about tomorrow.”

  I hold Brynn in my arms as I walk over to the bed and sit down. She’s straddling me, her hand still on my cock as I struggle to kick my boots off. We haven’t quite reached the point of no return yet, but we are close, so fucking close.

  I unzip her dress, and she strips it off. Not once do I tell her we can stop. Not once do I tell her we should stop. I can’t bring myself to utter those words.

  Instead, I unclasp her bra and help her slip it off her shoulders. When her tits are free, I cup them with my hands and bring one nipple to my mouth, licking and sucking it before giving the same attention to the other one. Brynn rocks her hips, her fingers threading through my hair.

  “I need you inside me, Kipton,” she says breathlessly. “Please.”

  I reach over to my bag at the end of my bed and find the box of condoms I’d tossed inside it. I make quick work of sheathing myself, my eyes never leaving the deep blue pools of hers. Okay, I have to give her an out.

  “Brynn, we don’t…”

  My words falter as I watch her slide her panties to the side and position my cock at her glistening pussy. My tip parts her folds and disappears inside her warmth.

  “Yes, we do,” she manages and takes every fucking inch of me.

  18

  Brynn

  I sit on the balcony wrapped in a blanket with my feet curled beneath me rather than stretched out on the lounge chair. The alcohol from earlier is long out of my system, and I’m left with a dull headache and the massive realization that I fucked my former brother-in-law.

  “I dreamed of this, Brynn,” Kipton said as I rode him. “Dreamed of how fucking good your pussy would feel. How you would fit me like a damn glove.”

  I arched my back, and he captured one of my nipples between his teeth, rolling the taut bud and flicking his tongue over it.

  Riding him was almost painful, his dick hitting that spot that was so deep it was almost too much, but I couldn’t stop. I wanted him deeper. I wanted more. I wanted all of him.

  “Brynn?” Kipton stirs me out of the memory and I shift on the chair, the delicious soreness a reminder that the memory wasn’t my imagination. “You okay?”

  I force myself to look over to him, to face the fear that he will never look at me the same way again. That he will regret stripping off my dress, seeing my imperfect body with my stretch marks and slightly rounded stomach where I couldn’t quite lose my baby weight from Willow and gave up trying. He saw all of that, and at the time, he didn’t seem to care. But what about now? Now that we aren’t piss drunk?

  Kipton stands there, his hair messy and his boxers hanging low on his hips. He looks entirely too damn fuckable.

  I expect to see regret written all over his handsome face, but when I reach his eyes, I don’t see anything remotely close to that. No, he’s looking at me the same way I was just looking at him. Like I’m entirely too damn fuckable.

  It’s then that I notice the foil packet he has tucked in his waistband. He may have come out here to check on me, but he has every intention of repeating what happened only hours ago. He saunters over to the lounge chair and climbs on, settling between my legs.

  “You didn’t answer me,” he says, rubbing his thumb over my chin.

  “It isn’t tomorrow yet,” I reply with a slight smile.

  He grins back at me. “No, it isn’t,” he muses and leans forward to press a kiss to my lips. When he’s only a breath away, he says, “You’re not wearing anything underneath this blanket, are you?” I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me, Brynn.”

  He has no fucking idea what he’s done to me.

  I don’t want to question this. I don’t want to tell myself this is wrong and that it’ll never happen again. I only want to lie to myself today.

  So, I do exactly that. This isn’t wrong. The way he’s kissing my lips, my neck, and moving down my stomach.

  I spread my legs as he nips my inner thigh, and I feel his breath hot on my core. He thumbs my clit and watches me through hooded eyes as he flicks his tongue out to lick my seam.

  It will definitely happen again. And again.

  He pushes his tongue inside me, and I arch back, crying out and not giving a damn if anyone can hear me. We’re not in Chapelwood. Not near the prying eyes of our families and neighbors.

  Kipton raises up but only long enough to
push his boxers down and roll the condom over his long, hard length. Then, he’s on top of me, spreading my legs wide. He fiddles with the side of the lounge chair, and we laugh as our bodies cause it to forcefully fall back flat. I’m still smiling as I reach up to touch his face, my fingertips tracing his grin.

  He pushes inside me, taking me in one swift thrust, and then he doesn’t stop. He pounds into me until my smile has faded and all I can do is struggle to breathe through my moans.

  When we return to Chapelwood, I can pretend this never happened. I never scaled my nails over the flesh of his back. I never bit down on his shoulder as he drove into me. I never cried out his name.

  But in this moment, I can pretend Kipton is mine.

  19

  Kipton

  Brynn is still asleep when our breakfast is delivered to my door. I can’t say that I blame her. If I weren’t a naturally early riser, I would still be in bed, too. I tell myself I need to give her a few hours to recuperate, though, and if I’m in bed with her, I’ll take her again.

  We fucked almost the entire night. When our tryst outside on the lounge chair was finished, I carried her inside, and I know she thought I was going to take her to the shower to clean up, but I made a pitstop on the bed first.

  Christ, she was as insatiable as I was. I don’t think I’ve ever fucked to the point of exhaustion before, but last night I could hardly move when we finally decided we’d had enough of each other. Brynn brought out a side of me I had no idea existed, and I saw a side of her I never thought I would.

  I fucked her hard and rough, then soft and slow. It’s as if we knew this was our only night together, so we made the most of it instead of accepting it’s bound to happen again.

  We haven’t talked about what’s to come when we return to Chapelwood, but I can see it in her big, blue eyes. I saw it the entire time I was thrusting into her. She was giving herself that moment but won’t allow herself to keep it as anything more than that.

  I haven’t decided yet if I should attempt to convince her otherwise.

  A relationship with Brynn would be messy. She’s my brother’s ex-wife, but I’ll be honest; I’m not particularly concerned about that. It’s Willow. Willow is always the priority, and how will she understand what’s happening between Brynn and me? Could she even comprehend that?

  Then, what happens if it doesn’t last? Brynn has a history of bolting and not just dumping someone but fucking leaving town and walking away from everything. I couldn’t handle that if she did that bullshit to me. My family sure as hell wouldn’t welcome her back with open arms if she pulled that stunt again. Willow would be devastated.

  “You ordered breakfast?” Brynn stirs, rolling over onto her side.

  The sheet falls down, exposing her tits, and she doesn’t bother covering them up. I’m tempted to pounce on her, suck those luscious globes into my mouth, but I restrain myself. Instead, I offer her a plate and then hand her a mini bottle of syrup, shaking my head as she twists the cap and drizzles it over her pancakes, then the scrambled eggs and bacon as well.

  “I’m heading to Virginia next,” I say, although I know she’s aware of this. “Are you coming back out again?”

  “You’ll be in South Carolina soon, right?” she asks.

  “Yeah, end of this month.”

  “I’m going to try to make that one and the one in Georgia. I have to get three events covered for the paper in between working on my other stories, too. I told my boss I’m not willing to miss any of my visitation with Willow, though.”

  “South Carolina wouldn’t be too far for you. I think Mama and Daddy are coming to that one, though,” I let her know, as if this matters to her. “Maybe everyone else, too.”

  “I don’t know how you’re going to keep up with your schedule,” she says, shaking her head. “In Missouri one day, Texas, then traveling to Ohio. I know there are other places, too. It’s going to take a toll on you.”

  “I’ll have some time off in between, and I’ll come to Chapelwood. I’m not going to enter every event. That’s not feasible, but if I’m going to do this, I have to do it right and keep my name there on the standings.”

  “How could they possibly forget you?” she teases, and I forget about restraining myself.

  I toss her plate to the side, and she lets out a shriek of laughter as I climb over her. I may only have her for a limited time, but I’ll make the most of it.

  20

  Brynn

  After more mind-blowing sex, it wasn’t difficult for Kipton to convince me to stick around Knoxville for a little while. He leaves first thing in the morning for Virginia, and I’ve decided since I am kid-free this weekend that I can stay with him until he leaves.

  Sure, I’m postponing the inevitable, but I’m not in denial. I know what happens when I return to Chapelwood. We forget this ever happened. We go back to being friends. Go back to ignoring the attraction we have between us because we simply can’t act on it. Again. But damn if we didn’t act on it last night and this morning!

  I blush now, just thinking about it as we tour the World’s Fair Park. I asked to go to Graceland, but after he informed me that would be a six-hour drive, we opted to do this instead. I know it might be a cliché tourist thing to do, but we can be cliché tourists today.

  “So, how does this hold up to Graceland?” he asks.

  Our shoes are in our hands and our pants legs are rolled up as we walk through the cool water of one of the fountains. I smile over at him and shrug.

  “I think this holds up just fine.”

  Kipton reaches over and takes my free hand, pulling me over to him and kissing me gently. We are out in the open for everyone to see and no one cares. No one is gawking. No one is whispering.

  “Favorite Elvis song?” I ask, when we break apart.

  “Jailhouse Rock,” he answers. “I should wear an Elvis suit for my next ride.”

  I roll my eyes, knowing he’s only kidding, but I’m enjoying this side of him. While Kipton is outgoing and fun, he’s also pretty reserved. He is the Holt brother that keeps to himself and the one Kaler and Tauren turn to when they need advice or help. He’s the voice of reason.

  “What about you?” he asks.

  “No, I don’t think I would look good in an Elvis suit.”

  He chuckles. “Favorite Elvis song?”

  “That’s All right Mama.”

  “I took you for a Blue Suede Shoes type of girl,” he replies.

  “Well, you took me wrong,” I reply. “But honestly, you can’t go wrong with Elvis.”

  We spend another hour touring the park, taking a break and lying on the grass. We both chat about our favorite songs and movies, avoiding any talk about high school and memories that involve Kaler, because, let’s face it, that would make our beautiful day an awkward one.

  We finish up our tour and decide to go to quaint little bar and grille for dinner and drinks. We’re sitting at a small table for two, our bellies full and each of us two beers in, when he asks what I knew was coming now that our time together is winding down.

  “What happens when we both get back to Chapelwood?”

  I take another sip of my beer and glance over at him. He has a serious look on his face, letting me know this conversation has to occur even though I would rather avoid it.

  “Kipton, what happened between us was…I don’t know…both of us giving in during a drunken state.”

  His eyes avert to the beer on the table. “A drunken state?”

  “Yeah, I mean, do you think we would have done that had we not been drinking?” I ask, even though I know that isn’t remotely close to being true.

  “We’re going to blame it all on the booze, then? The whole thing?”

  I swallow at his tone. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. You’re Willow’s uncle. Kaler’s brother. How would that look?”

  “Brynn, I don’t give a fuck about how it looks.”

  “Well, I do, and I’m not going to confuse my daughter.
Besides, you’re going to be gone ninety percent of the time now that you’ve decided to go pro. That wouldn’t be fair to Willow or me, so we both know we can’t continue this when we get back home. I don’t know why you’re even trying to put some sort of label on this. It’s ridiculous.”

  That sounds meaner than I intend. I just don’t want to overanalyze this. It’ll make it harder to move on. Harder to forget what happened between us. We both know we have to forget it.

  “No need for labels, Brynn,” he says coldly, standing up. “I know exactly who you are to me.”

  “Kipton, wait.”

  “You’re my niece’s mother. My ex-sister-in-law. Nothing more. Let’s pretend this never fucking happened.”

  I half-expect him to stalk out of the bar and leave me there, but that wouldn’t be Kipton. He wasn’t raised to leave a woman alone to fend for herself. He opens the door to his truck for me and escorts me back to the hotel. He helps me gather my things and walks me to my room. He even tells me to have a safe trip back to Chapelwood, kissing me on my cheek before he walks away.

  The man I saw last night, the man who I watched come undone, is completely gone. In his place is a shell, and I’m the one who created this version of him. I didn’t think I could hate myself more.

  21

  Kipton

  She walked away from me, and she made it look fucking easy. It wasn’t that I didn’t know she was returning to Chapelwood. Hell, Willow is there, so I knew she would be going back home. I had no idea she would be going the way she did.

  I thought this would be an ongoing thing between us somehow. I ignored all the signs she gave me and was ignorant in my bliss in thinking she wanted the same thing I did. In thinking we would figure our shit out together.