by Brynn Paulin
“Nash,” I chided. “I know how this life works. Go make sure everything is fine. I’ll go upstairs and meet you there when you’re done.”
“Okay,” he agreed, seeming relieved as he stood and set me on my feet. “Keep your phone near you. If it looks to get bad, I want you down in the cellar.”
“The cellar? Gross.”
“Promise,” he insisted, his worry clear. I was more worried about him in the lightning and possible hail.
“I promise.”
With that, he kissed me hard, then took off through the house for his hat, waterproof duster coat and boots. He was gone out the front door before I’d fully closed the back door. Nash had rebuilt this ranch over the past five years, taking the herd from less than fifty back to around three hundred. There wasn’t a lot to do for the cattle during the storm. Still, he’d want to check on those nearby. Half of the head were in pastures close to the house because they were going to auction next week.
“Be careful!” I yelled after him, but I wasn’t so sure he’d heard me. I closed my eyes and whispered a quick prayer for him and the hands helping him. They’d weathered plenty of storms, so I reckoned they knew how to stay safe, but there was always the unpredictable.
Trying to stay calm, I wiped down the kitchen then pulled out the cinnamon rolls Gran had sent, covering them with a cloth to thaw and rise overnight. I only pulled out my phone and checked the weather and the storm tracking twice.
When the storm hit an hour later, sounding like hammers against the house, I headed upstairs. My cell was setup to sound an alarm if I needed to take cover, so I placed it on the bedside table and perched on the edge of the mattress. My hands gripped the edges on either side of me as I tapped my feet nervously on the thick carpet.
I hadn’t really thought I’d be going to bed alone tonight. Shaking my head, I started to unbutton my shirt. I hadn’t brought a nightgown, so I’d just use one of Nash’s T-shirts. I’d probably swim in it, but the thought of wearing his clothes, feeling him around me, aroused me.
I looked around the bedroom, imagining sharing it with Nash. I could easily see my clothes in the big closet with his, my things intermingle with his on the dresser and around the room, our kids sleeping down the hall.
Kids…
My hand splayed over my flat belly as I remembered two weeks ago when we hadn’t used a condom. Chances were super slim that I was pregnant. Well, not so slim when I thought about it. I was healthy, and we’d had unprotected sex right in the middle of my cycle. My eyes closed, and I pushed away the panic that was no doubt amplified by the raging storm outside and my worry for Nash and the crew.
Gran always told me not to borrow trouble. Good advice, but what would I do if I was pregnant? What would it do to Nash and me? Sure, he’d “do the right thing”; that’s the sort of guy he was. I didn’t want the right thing. I wanted genuine love and commitment, not something we did because of a baby.
Of course, he’d told he loved me and he planned to marry me some day. Keeping that in mind, I tried to push aside my fears.
Standing, I shimmied out of my jeans then grabbed them with the shirt I’d already removed and dropped them in the chair in the corner.
“Now, this is something I could come home to every day.”
I turned in surprise. “Nash! I didn’t hear you.”
“Holy shit, baby. Look at you. You’re a fucking wet dream.”
“Um. Thanks?” Heat raced into my cheeks, and I laced my fingers together over my middle, struggling not to hide myself. I bought this black lacy lingerie for him. I knew the tiny panties and bra looked good against my milky white skin. My breasts perfectly filled the cups that lifted me for his viewing while the lace barely covered my nipple.
I swallowed and tried to quell my nerves. We’d been together before. Heck, we’d been all over each other in the field today.
“I am kind of wet,” I confessed and bit my bottom lip, fighting my shyness. This was Nash. He loved me. I didn’t have to be self-conscious.
“Only kind of?” he asked as he pulled off his thermal. Despite his waterproof coat, the material clung to his skin making it obvious he’d gotten drenched. His hair was dark from the rain, too and stuck to his face in places, yet I found him absolutely gorgeous. My mouth watered at the ripped chest he revealed when he dropped his shirt. My arms dropped to my sides and my fingers flexed, wanting to trace the hard lines of his torso and feel the powerful muscles in his forearms and biceps. Wrap my legs around his slim waist while my hands investigated that ridge over each hip that disappeared into his pants…
I swallowed again before I drooled. “Okay, very wet.”
“Good, because I need to be deep inside you…and soon.”
“Wetter,” I breathed.
He reached for his zipper. “Get on the bed, baby, and spread those sweet thighs for me.”
He shoved his jeans and black boxer-briefs to the floor and stepped free as I crawled to the middle of the mattress. By the time I rested against the pillows, he stood at the end of the bed, waiting.
“I should have had you take those off,” he said. “I don’t know if they’ll last.”
Drawing up my legs I shimmied out of them then tossed them to the side before planting my feet open again. I stared into his eyes so I didn’t cave to embarrassment. “Better?” I asked.
“So good,” he answered, but I barely heard him over the thunder. “So much better in a second.
I cried out as he lowered his head, parting me with one hand and licking a line through my fold.
“Oh my God!” I cried.
“Perfect,” he growled, devouring me in earnest now.
I writhed against his tongue, overwhelmed by the sensations erupting through me. I chanted his name, my fingers in his hair, my hips lifting off the mattress until he held them down. His thumb circled my clit, and I erupted.
“Yeah, baby, give it to me,” he demanded as a burst of sensual lightning sizzled through me, rivaling any power outside. I thought he’d stop, but he kept on, two fingers sliding inside me to drive me higher.
“Nash!” I screamed when my second climax hit. Before I knew what was happening, he’d climbed over me and slammed deep. We moved wildly together, each reaching for our release. My nails dug into his wide shoulders as I savored the sensation of him over me again. Some people might diss missionary, but I loved the weight of him over me, commanding my body, owning me.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. I’m not gonna last,” he gasped out.
I wouldn’t either. “Harder,” I begged. “Nash, God, you feel so good.”
His hot, thick length stretched me and nothing had ever been better. It was too good. I felt myself spiraling closer to oblivion, my core clenching for release. Then suddenly, my mind cleared for a just fraction of a second.
“Don’t come in me,” I gasped. I arched beneath him, not in demand but against the pleasure I fought. We’d already tempted fate enough. He was already in me bare…again.
His face contorted, but he nodded, though he didn’t slow his movements. Trusting him, I allowed myself to go right back to the edge with him, the sensations yanking me deep. Maybe, it was the danger tempting fate again. Maybe, just being with him again, our souls reconnecting. Whatever it was that had claimed us, heat spread through my body, my skin prickling with the oncoming release. My entire awareness narrowed to Nash and what he did to my body, what he felt like beneath my hands and mouth.
So close…right there…right…
I arched, screaming out. At the same time, Nash yelled then heat splashed across my thighs. Moments later, he collapsed over me, and my arms went around him. I rubbed up and down his back while he kissed my shoulder, my neck.
He buried his face between my breasts, still held in my bra. “I’m horrible. I didn’t even pay attention to these works of art.”
“I wanted urgent and fast. We’ve got plenty of time for slow appreciation.”
“Our whole lives, yeah?”
<
br /> I didn’t answer because with that pronouncement, he cupped one breast, pulling down the lace before closing his mouth over the nipple. And then he paid lots of attention to them, to my sex, to my mouth and anywhere else he could touch. All night long.
* * * *
~ Nash ~
Sunday morning came too fast. And while I wanted to stay in bed with Jorie, enjoying my woman all day long, I dragged myself out of the warm blankets and away from the limbs wrapped around me. Jorie muttered as she turned her face into the pillow, and I shook my head, dragging my ass to the shower. Finishing quickly, I dressed then went downstairs to make coffee. There was a lot to do before our guests arrived, and I had to check what damage we’d gotten from the storm, if any.
Still, I wanted nothing more than to climb back in, bury myself deep and fill her with my come, but that would be a shitty thing to do, even if I did want babies with her ASAP. She didn’t want that, and I had to respect that. Actually, I couldn’t believe we hadn’t used a condom the first time. At least, she’d had the momentary presence of mind to say something and I’d had the same to pull out. She didn’t want to get pregnant.
Yet.
I had the definite impression she was open to it eventually…and with me. She just didn’t want to rush. That was smart. And it wouldn’t be fair of me to push her, either.
Me, I wanted to rush. I wanted her here, every day, in my life and in my bed, having my kids, being my partner and rebuilding this ranch. Fuck, it wasn’t as if we hadn’t known each other for forever. It wasn’t as if we hadn’t planned our future, together, once upon a time. I’d been waiting for her return for the past five years.
And besides, even if I didn’t want to admit it, I knew why I was pushing. Fear. Deep down fear that she’d leave again, that she needed to be tied to me or she’d run off again. I was here, her grandma was here, and now, Ryder was here, but she had so many opportunities available to her if she looked. Things a lot better than hanging out on a small-town ranch in an area with no bright lights, no real nightlife and no easy entertainment. Hell, we had to drive out of town for most everything.
It was home to me, and I loved it here, but did she?
I wrapped my hands around my warm mug and stared out into the backyard, picturing our kids running around out there. What was wrong with me? Guys weren’t the ones supposed to be all obsessive about starting their family, right. Wasn’t I the one who was supposed to shy away from that? Guess I wasn’t typical. Apparently, I was in touch with my feminine side then, and I wasn’t at all sorry.
I shoved aside the images. I’d do things on Jorie’s schedule. I might be a big, strong cowboy, in charge of my world and those in it, but I’d do whatever she wanted, whatever would make her happy. As long as she was here, content in my arms, I’d be happy, too.
“Morning,” she said as she came into the kitchen. I turned and smiled as I saw her in one of my T-shirts, her light brown hair mussed from sleep and pillow creases on her right cheek. So fucking adorable! I loved this woman.
My gut clenched, and my fingers tightened on my mug. I had to trust her not to run. We couldn’t move forward if I didn’t. Maybe, deep down, she sensed that. Right then, taking in her sleepy beauty, I vowed to stop worrying about our future and just believe she’d be there with me, just as I’d be there for her.
“Morning,” I said, my voice raspy from lack of use and an overabundance of need. “Coffee?”
“God, yes.”
I poured her a cup, added the amount of creamer she liked and handed it over.
“You remember,” she said, taking if from me.
I winked. “How could I forget? It’s been the same since your first cup when you were thirteen, no sugar, creamed to light brown but not too light. I didn’t imagine you’d changed your preference in the past five years.”
“I worked at Starbucks all through college. I could have broadened my horizons.”
“But you didn’t,” I replied with certainty.
“I didn’t. I like what I like.” She leaned into me and brushed her lips over mine. “For the record, I like you. That hasn’t changed either.”
“I love you.”
She smiled into her cup, her eyes dancing.
“Oh really? You’re not gonna say it back?”
“Nope.”
“Nope?” I took her coffee, setting it aside as I yanked her close to me. “I guess I’ll just have to torture it out of you.”
“Taking my coffee’s not going to help,” she groused, pushing against my chest and trying to squirm away. “Keep it up, and I won’t even like you.”
Her giggle completely negated her tough statement, not that I would have believed her anyway.
“Mmm…I have my ways to gain compliance.” I kissed her neck, and she moaned. At the same time, I slipped my hand beneath the hem of the shirt she wore, sweeping lightly up her thigh to her bare hip, past her bare ass—fuck me, she was naked beneath here—then moved up to her ribs, with just a feather touch all the away.
“Nash! No!” she screamed, upping her struggle to get away. I held her firm with the other arm as I started to tickle her. I knew all her sensitive spots. “Stop! Stop,” she laughed, smacking my chest.
“Nope,” was all I said. All her squirming was turning me the fuck on. This could totally backfire on me. I moved my hand, tickling her on her side where the band of her bra should be, all the while careful not to graze her breast—I really wanted to cup that firm mound and play with the nipple I felt poking against the fabric.
Apparently, deciding to take things into her own hands, she reached up and leapt into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs around my waist. She kissed the base of my throat then up to my ear, grazing the sensitive flesh with her teeth. Her hips shifted, and she rubbed her pelvis against my fly, moaning.
“Fuck, baby, that’s not fair,” I complained, abandoning my tickling and giving in to my urge to cup her breast, while I turned us, so she was pressed to the counter. I ground into her, working her aroused, pliant nipple beneath my fingers, pinching and squeezing. Moving my hand to the other mound, I leaned down and sucked the first into my mouth, right through her shirt.
“Yes, Nash,” she cried, arching into me. Her legs locked tighter around my waist, and I wanted to take her right there.
“Damn, I need you so bad,” I muttered around the peak in my mouth. “I didn’t want to leave the bed this morning.”
“Fuck me.” She shoved a condom against my chest.
“Where’d you get that?”
“In my hand this whole time. Stop wasting time.”
“Yes, ma’am. God, I love you. You’re such a bad, bad girl.”
“Show me how bad. Fuck me hard with that cock and make me better.”
“That’s not how it works,” I chuckled, opening my pants and shoving them down my thighs. A moment later, I was sheathed and lining up with her opening. My woman. “Mine,” I growled, biting her neck.
“Yes!” she agreed, wiggling to try to get me inside. I held my tip steady at her entrance while keeping her still, poised for my taking.
“Tell me you love me.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Tell me…you love me.”
“Cheating,” she gasped. “You’re cheating. Stop it and fuck me.”
“Tell me,” I demanded. I nipped at her lips, acting as if I could wait her out. If I wasn’t inside her in the next three seconds, she’d win.
“I love you. I love—oh!” she cried as I drove balls deep inside her. It was hard and fast. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and I was pretty sure I’d leave bruises on her hips—probably a matching set to last night. It had taken me about a second to find out my girl liked it kind of rough sometimes…begged for it, too. I loved it.
I pistoned in and out, demanding her release as I ground against her clit with every deep drive into her warm, tight pussy. When she cried out my name again, clenching around me, climax exploded through me, my warmt
h erupting into her.
We were both breathing hard as she leaned her head into my chest, and I kissed the top of her head.
“I love you,” she panted. “I can’t believe us. Five years without sex, and now, I can’t seem to go five minutes without needing you.”
“That’s okay with me.” I tenderly brushed my lips over hers, savoring her, before I pulled back then withdrew. I set Jorie farther back on the counter so she didn’t fall then went to dispose of the condom and straighten my clothes. She was sipping her coffee, legs crossed and face full of bliss when I returned. The rising sun, glinted off her shiny hair and cast her in an almost unearthly glow.
I could spend every morning with her like this, even without the sex, though that was fucking perfect.
“Gotta get to work,” I said.
She frowned. “I know. Kind of comes with the territory. No rest for the wicked rancher.”
“Nope. What are you up to today?” I asked as I rinsed out my cup then shoved it in the dishwasher. I pulled a protein bar from the cupboard and stuck it in my pocket to eat on the run—I’d have something more substantial in a little while. No matter what anyone said, I never could eat first thing in the morning.
She shrugged. “Was thinking of church with Gran, though I don’t know. With the way you dirtied me up, I might get struck by lightning just walking in the door.”
I laughed. “Doubt that.” I leaned in and kissed her quickly. “You’re the sweetest thing there is.”
“Do you need me to check-in your guests? Their payments are all set. Their cards just need to be run through when they arrive. And they have to be given their packets with their itineraries for the week.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s kind of an extension of my job. You know…hospitality, management and all. Also, I left an itinerary for you on your desk, so you know what’s what and who’s running what activities. We were supposed to talk about that last night, along with everything else I’ve been doing to get the event planning up and running.”
“Storm shot that to hell. Maybe tonight?” I asked, hopeful she’d stay over again.