Rough Country (Tannen Boys Book 3)

by Lauren Landish

  “I want . . . I want to go inside.”

  I smile, encouraging her.

  I can see her steeling her nerves, and with her eyes brazenly on mine, she boldly says, “I want your cock.”

  Holy fuck. I wasn’t ready. As much as I wanted filth on her tongue, I wasn’t prepared for how it would shove me into the deep end.

  “Shit, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

  I’m out, around the hood, and opening her door in an instant.

  In another, we’re over the threshold and heading up the stairs.

  One more, and she’s in my bedroom. It’s bare-boned, all childhood remnants long gone. Later, I’ll wonder what she thinks about the worn dresser with a cracked mirror, the full-sized bed that I didn’t make, and the open closet with too many threadbare T-shirts, dirty boots, and ripped jeans. Right now, all I care about is getting her out of this swimsuit that might as well be the sexiest lingerie I’ve ever seen.

  I sit down and pull her between my thighs. Wrapping my hands around her waist, I feel her satiny skin beneath my rough palms and nearly lose it.

  “I want to go slow, but I’m on edge.” The confession is not a weakness I would usually show, but luckily, she doesn’t take it as such, instead seeming turned on by the immediacy of my desire.

  She lays her arms over my shoulders, playing in the too-long hair at my nape. “We’ve got all night, right? We can do slow, then fast. And then slow again. Or vice versa? Fast, then slow?”

  I look up from where my eyes are memorizing the small spattering of freckles over her right hip, and she winks at me like the minx she’s not. But maybe she will be, for me and only me.

  I lay a sweet kiss to her hip, right over the freckles, claiming them. I nip at the curve of her waist, claiming it. I lick a line between her breasts as I cup them in my palms. Mine, all mine.

  Willow reaches behind her back, undoing the tie, and the triangles fall loose from her body. Another tie at her neck has the material fluttering to my floor as she stands topless before me.

  “So pretty,” I murmur, teasing over both nipples with my thumbs. They pearl up instantly, proudly standing at attention to beg for more caresses. Circling the rosy tips, I fill in my fantasies with the reality of Willow, the color, shape, and weight of her tits in my palms even better than I’d imagined.

  “Thank you,” she whispers, her manners instinctual even at a moment like this.

  Replacing my hands, I suck as much of her into my mouth as I can, using my tongue to flick at her nipple. She arches again, and I cup her back, forcing her higher, taking more of her. She cries out when I bite down a little on the tender bud.

  Worried, I ask, “Too much?”

  “No.” She shakes her head vehemently. “More. Faster. Now.”

  Needy, greedy, eager girl . . . wanting me the way I want her.

  I take her at her word and wrap my arms around her waist, picking her up to lay her on the bed. The sight of her blonde hair against my navy pillows is a sight I didn’t know would hit me so squarely in the center of my chest, but it looks so right. Especially when she’s writhing and smiling at me the way she is right now.

  I straddle her right leg, my knees trapping her in place, and trace a slow line down her belly with a fingertip, all the way to the ties of her swimsuit bottom. I pull the suit from her, leaving her naked in my bed. Seeing her, my blood roars through my ears, my heart races in my chest, and any shred of control I had melts away in tatters.

  I pin her arms over her head, holding her wrists to the bed with one hand so I can explore her pussy with my other. “You this wet for me, sweetheart?” I ask when I feel her slippery juices coating her outer lips.

  She nods, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

  I shake my head, serious. “Nuh-uh, you can be loud with me. There’s no one to hear you but me, and all I ask for is honesty. Tell me, Willow.”

  “I’m always this wet around you.” Her admission escapes as a sigh, and I reward her bravery by petting her clit in a slow circle.

  I grind her thigh, letting her feel how hard I am. “I’m always this hard for you too. So damn sexy.” I scan down her body, memorizing every inch of flesh.

  I don’t think she believes me. She doesn’t know how sexy she is, but I’ll show her.

  I massage her clit, dipping inside to stretch her with one finger, then two, never letting go of her hands. Her body rolls and jolts beneath me, fighting me—not to get away, but for more, as we both learn what she’s capable of. I don’t know what kind of lovers she’s had before, but there’s never been anyone who feels about her what I do, who wants to learn every nuance of her pleasure as much as me. This is an education I welcome gladly, every single lesson she’ll give.

  As she bucks, I fuck her with two fingers, slowly, then harder and faster. I find that ridged spot on her front wall and stroke it even as she tries to close her knees against the onslaught. I don’t let her, holding her legs open with my shoulders as she cries out, almost there.

  “Yes. Right there,” she moans a second before her whole body goes tight. She shatters, hips dancing, eyes squeezed shut, and jaw sagged open. Her pussy clenches and spasms as I keep thrusting my fingers in and out of her, helping her wring every bit of pleasure from the orgasm. My cock complains, wanting to feel that tight squeeze, but I promised her more, and I keep my promises.

  She’s still panting when I move down, throwing her legs over my shoulders to lie between them. The first swipe of my tongue through her sweet cum has her arguing and gripping my hair in her hands.

  “I can’t. Let me do you instead.”

  I growl like a kid who won’t give up his cake and go back to licking her. “I want another one. Come again, Willow. On my tongue this time, so I can drink you down as you go.”

  She groans, unsure but eventually settling against my mouth. A moment later, she’s riding my tongue and that tight grip on my hair has her guiding me to where she wants me. My hands find her ass, kneading the muscle and holding her to me so I can get my tongue deeper. I moan at her sweet and salty taste, knowing with one drop that I’m addicted.

  She’s it.

  She’s everything.

  She’s mine.

  I grind my cock into the mattress, willing myself not to come in my underwear. Needing her to come now, I fasten my mouth around her clit, battering it with my tongue, and slip a finger back inside her. Within seconds, she’s crying out for me again.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasps. “Wow.”

  I’m already climbing her body, pushing my underwear down and off and grabbing the condom I threw on the bed when we came in. I roll it down my length, giving my base a hard squeeze to fend off my looming orgasm because I definitely don’t want to be a two-pump chump, which is a very real risk right now.

  No, I want to get inside her and stay there for as long as I possibly can.

  Her knees fall open, and I line up with her pussy, nudging at her entrance. “Willow, look at me, sweetheart,” I say. Her eyes roll in her head, but she blinks and focuses on me. “Feel me. Feel us, together for the first time.”

  She nods, and I push forward. Her legs quiver, gripping my hips, and in one instant, I’m inside heaven. Hot, wet home.

  I slide deeper, letting her juices coat my length and enjoying the sensation of her gripping every inch of my cock. I pull back, loving the way her body doesn’t want to let me go, wanting me to stay as much I want to stay. But the retreat only makes the thrust forward that much sweeter. Again and again, we become one.

  I’m gentle, I swear I am, but my strokes are getting more powerful, nearly bottoming out inside her as I lose control. “Sweetheart, I need to—”

  She cuts me off. “More. Harder. Bobby—”

  And I’m done for.

  I lie over her, the full length of our bodies touching. I slide my arms under her, holding her shoulders from behind for leverage, and she wraps her arms around my back, where her nails dig into my skin, urging me on.

  I
bury my mouth into her shoulder, inhaling her sweat and skin as I begin to pound her. I’m not gentle or kind. I fuck her hard and deep, fast and rough, but she’s with me the whole way.

  I growl into her ear, my voice low and dark. “You’re mine, Willow. You know that, right? It’s you and me. Tell me.”

  I expect her to quote my words back to me. I’m ready for them.

  Instead, she says something I don’t expect. Not yet, not from her.

  As she comes, her pussy pulsing around my cock with each punishing stroke, she cries out, “I love you.”

  My brain short circuits, my body flies off into paradise, and my heart grits out the truth. “I love you too. Willow—”

  That’s all I have before I can’t speak, too lost in her body and my own pleasure. I come hard, pumping into her as my cock jolts again and again. I murmur and realize I’m sucking on her skin, likely leaving a hickey along the curve of her shoulder. I kiss it gently, apologizing, even though I’m not sorry in the slightest. I don’t regret what are likely the half-moon marks from her nails scoring my back, either. I’ll wear them as badges of honor, a sign of my woman’s passion.

  Spent, we sag, trying to catch our breath.

  When I can breathe again, I lift up and meet her eyes. Beneath the blissful pleasure, I can see worry blooming. I’m still inside her and she’s already nervous. About what?

  It hits me.

  I brush her bangs out of her eyes, slipping the hair behind her ears. Getting in close so she doesn’t misunderstand a thing, I tell her sternly, “I meant every word. You’re mine.” Her breath catches. Her lashes flutter. “And I love you.”

  She laughs, and the pressure pushes me out of her. “Oh, my God, I love you too. This is crazy.”

  Shrugging, I lie down beside her. “I’ve been called worse.”

  She stares up at the ceiling, occasionally looking over to me as if checking to make sure I’m real or still here. I took care of the condom several minutes ago, so I’m not going anywhere unless it’s to the kitchen to get her some food. Past that, now that I have Willow here, I don’t plan on leaving this bed until we have to.

  The sun peeks over the horizon, my sign to rise and shine. But with Willow here, I don’t want to. Not in the slightest.

  She stirs and stretches, her eyes opening slowly.

  “Hi,” she whispers.

  “Hi,” I whisper back, though the quiet in the house tells me we’re still alone.

  “Do you have to get up for work?” she asks around a yawn. For her, it’s basically the middle of the night. For me, it’s the usual time to start my day.

  “Soon, but not yet.”

  The truth is, I want her one more time to make sure last night wasn’t a dream. I need her fresh on my skin and my cock to be sure. I want to mark her the same way too.

  I roll to my side, letting my hand trace over her shoulder, down the curve of her hip to her center. I spread her lips, dipping deeper. She’s already beginning to get wet for me. I groan at the realization.

  I push her to her back, rising to my knees and climbing over her. “Condoms are too far away, but I have an idea.” They’re not far, literally two steps across the hall in the bathroom, which she very well knows. But she trusts me enough to not do anything stupid or dangerous. I never would, not where she’s concerned.

  Instead of entering her bare, I rub the head of my cock over her clit as though it’s my finger. I trace circles, tap her with the head, and ultimately, we end up simulating fucking without actual penetration. It’s not as hot as being inside her, but it’s satisfying in a different way as I see my pre-cum glistening on her lower belly.

  “Can I come on you?” I ask.

  She nods her head, and I release. Jets of it spurt out to cover her mound and up to her belly. She moans happily, though I know it can’t do much for her.

  Maybe the sight of my cum on her gets my Willow off too?

  I milk myself, getting every last drop, and she smiles, thinking we’re done. I’m not remotely done. Not when she hasn’t come yet.

  I run my finger through the fluid, rubbing it into her skin to appease the Neanderthal monster inside me, then use it to tease her clit. I massage it into her, marking her as mine and getting her to the edge.

  With a cry of my name, she joins me in bliss once again.

  It’s beautiful. It’s stunning. It changes the entire direction of my life in an instant.

  Before, she was mine. Now, I’m hers. Maybe I always have been.

  Coffee.

  Still dozing, I realize what woke me up.

  The smell of fresh coffee and hushed conversation.

  After that last round at dawn, Willow and I cleaned up and snuggled in for ‘just a few minutes.’ By the light in the room, it’s been a lot longer than that.

  I watch her sleep for a little longer, enjoying her beauty. Even in her sleep, she must feel my eyes on her because she stirs, waking slowly.

  “Mmm, that smells good.”

  The coffee must’ve gotten to her too.

  “Come on. Let’s get some before it’s all gone,” I say, already climbing out of bed. I feel fantastic, having slept better than I have in ages and later than I have in years.

  I pull a T-shirt from my closet and dig in the dresser for a pair of shorts and toss them on the bed. Well, I mean to toss them on the bed, but they end up right in Willow’s face and she glares.

  I shoot her the smile that usually gets me out of trouble, and she sighs, but she moves to get up. She’s slow rolling until she hears the voices.

  “Who’s here?” she whispers, her eyes wide in horror.

  Holding my hands out like she’s a skittish colt, I assure her, “Just Brody, probably. Maybe Brutal. They’ve already started the day.” I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “A couple of hours ago. They’re probably eating breakfast. Come on.”

  I’m not hiding her, not in the slightest. And I’m certainly not embarrassed about having her here. Hell, I want to strut through town with my shirt off to show what she did to my back. Maybe tattoo her name on my chest just so it’s clear who my heart belongs to.

  She gives me a tiny, uncertain hint of a smile, the terror abating bit by bit.

  Downstairs, we walk into the kitchen to find Brody and Cooper eating oatmeal and drinking coffee. Well, Brody’s drinking coffee. Cooper is drinking ‘kid coffee’, hot chocolate with the teensy-tiniest splash of coffee. Brutal says it’ll get him adjusted to real coffee when he’s older. I think it makes the kid bouncier and more talkative than he already is, but nobody asked me.

  Willow freezes at my side and I squeeze her hand. “Morning,” I offer the guys. Cooper’s basically one of us these days, except he’s a lot smarter than any of us were at his age.

  Cooper grins widely, likely knowing too much about what Willow’s presence here this morning means. Brody grunts, his version of ‘good morning.’

  Willow waves with two fingers.

  I pull out a chair for her and move to grab two mugs, filling them nearly to the brim. She must need it because she nearly dives in when I set the mug on the table and take the chair next to her.

  “What’s up today?” I ask. Nonchalantly, because this is our new normal, folks.

  “Work.” Brody’s all talk, as usual.

  “I’m going into town with Mom later, but she sent me over here for breakfast with Uncle Brody so her and Dad could talk.” Cooper wiggles his eyebrows and looks at me pointedly.

  Oh, shit.

  Brutal and Allyson have done that before, sent the kid over so they could have a few minutes alone. Hence, the previous tease about not watching the kid and leaving them to eight-minute quickies, twenty if they’re lucky. Seems smarty pants Cooper has figured out what’s up with that. I’ll have to let Brutal and Allyson know because that’s not a conversation I’m touching, not even with a ten-foot pole and an After-School Special video.

  “Yeah, grown-ups do have a lot to talk about sometimes, don’t they?”r />
  Willow chokes on her coffee, sputtering. I pat her on the back, smirking. “Something you want to talk about, sweetheart?”

  She swipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. “No, no. No. I was just thinking I should probably get going. I have to work today too.”

  I stand and she does too. To Brody, I say, “Tell Brutal I’m taking Willow home, ’kay?”

  He grunts, which I take as agreement. On the way out, I ruffle Cooper’s hair to remind myself that he’s still just a kid, no matter how old he sometimes seems. He whines, smooshing it flat again with both palms. “Uncle Bobby, you suck cow balls!”

  I can’t help but laugh at that, though I wonder who taught him that particular phrase. Whoever it was will have hell to pay when Allyson hears it, but I won’t sell the kid out. Not even to his mom or Brutal.

  Willow is quiet the whole way back to town. I’m scared she’s freaking out about us and want to address any concerns head-on, so I reach across the console and take her hand. “You okay?”

  She turns those mood-ring eyes on me, swirling and stormy. “Yeah, just thinking about Unc.”

  Relief washes through me. Not that she’s worried—I hate that—but that it’s not about us. And that it’s something I can help with. “Want me to go into the bar with you today? We can face the firing squad together.” I would take a bullet for her. More importantly, and definitely more dangerous, I’d stand between Hank and her to take all his anger and hurt onto my back to save hers.

  She shakes her head. “That means a lot. Thank you, but I’ve got this. You’re coming in for dinner tonight, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Chapter 15

  Willow

  I steel my nerves, which are jangling even more than they were that first time I walked into the bar. I hold my head high and my shoulders back, making it appear that everything’s fine. Just fine.