Roughneck: A Payne Brothers Romance

by Frost, Sosie

  I shushed him with a playful swipe.

  Daddy hummed. “What was that?”

  “Nothing, Daddy.”

  “It’s a lot to do in a couple days,” Daddy said. “Remember where I told you to get the brisket?”

  “Yep.”

  “And scope out your spot ahead of the contest—gotta time how long it takes to walk to the judging tent so you can leave the brisket in the smoker, even for a couple extra minutes.”

  I smirked. “I know. It’s under control.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  I stiffened and turned from Tidus. Figured I’d be used to his look by now, the curl of his lip and the arch of his eyebrow. The cocky, you know I’m right judgmental stare.

  “No…I’m good.” I lied. “Everything is under control.”

  “That’s my girl. I had no doubt about this—let me tell you. I knew you were ready to get out there on your own and make something of yourself.” Daddy lowered his voice. “And if your mother weren’t listening, I’d escape this prison and go with you.”

  Momma did hear it. Her voice carried from the other room. “You best watch yourself, Marty Hudson, or you’re gonna find your butt in solitary confinement on the couch tonight.”

  “Yes, Warden—I mean, dear.” Daddy chuckled. “All right, Honeybee. Don’t know what a working girl like you is doing up so late, but your old man is going to bed. I love you.”

  “Love you too, Daddy. Don’t get Momma too riled up.”

  “God, no. Can’t risk dropping the soap with her around, that’s for sure.”

  I ended the call before learning anything that could potentially scar me. God only knew what trouble they got into now that they lived in an empty nest. Only hoped Momma remembered Daddy had a bad back.

  I poured the last my mahogany sauce into a container. Pure liquid gold. Tidus’s fridge had once been pretty barren, the bachelor trifecta of old pizza, older Chinese, and a jar of mustard. I’d fixed that, filling his shelves with leftover brisket and ribs, collared green and mac and cheese. I shuffled as much as I could to make room for the mason jar filled to the brim with my ultimate barbeque sauce.

  He finished his sample and dumped his plate in the sink. Maybe the old Tidus would have left the mess. Now, he took lessons from me. He washed the plate, dried it, and tossed it in the cupboard.

  I liked that he finally took pride in something.

  His arms hooked around my waist, dragging me close to him. “You know you’ve got a winning recipe there.”

  I tempered my enthusiasm. “It is pretty good, isn’t it?”

  “And I only had to raid Barlow’s Market for every spice so you could make it.”

  Not every spice. “Hey, they should be thrilled I came to town. I’m buying out their entire meat counter on a regular basis.”

  “Believe me—The Barlows got enough money without worrying about some brisket.”

  “Not just some brisket.” I arched an eyebrow. “The brisket.”

  The ultimate recipe.

  And I’d known how to prepare it since the night we met.

  Little bit of espresso. Little dark chocolate. Soy sauce—the dark variety, not the light. I’d even concocted a new recipe for my homemade ketchup to compliment the flavors.

  “It’s great, Honey,” Tidus said.

  “You’re not just saying that?”

  “Over the past couple weeks, I’ve become a…connoisseur of barbeque sauces.” His grin turned wicked. “Or, maybe I was a prisoner, force-fed pound after pound of pork and beef.”

  “What a torture.”

  “Not my usual variety,” he said. “Still waiting to get stripped naked for more…unsavory abuses.”

  “Keep it up, bad boy.” I winked. “I’ll put you through a real trial-by-fire.”

  “Trial-by-smoker.”

  “You better believe it.”

  “I’m already living that nightmare,” he said. “Never gonna get the smell of hickory out of my garage.”

  I stuck my tongue out. “It beats grease and motor oil.”

  “I liked grease and motor oil.”

  “Well, if you want to keep me around…” I gripped his shirt and lifted onto my tippy-toes for a kiss. “You better get used to cherry, hickory, mesquite…all sorts of wood.”

  “You give me plenty of wood.”

  Tidus dragged my hips to his. A familiar hardness greeted me. I loved the feeling, but I sighed instead, sinking into his arms.

  “I have to tell Daddy,” I said.

  “Tell him what?”

  My stomach twisted. “Everything. I gotta tell him about the truck. The repairs. The problems. I have to ask him for money so that I can go to the competition and present a recipe that isn’t his.”

  Tidus didn’t understand. “Why are you so afraid of confronting him?”

  He saw the world through raised fists and blackened eyes. Life was nothing but a series of fights to be won or lost. All I wished was for the man to have one day where he wasn’t forced to think about survival, indignity, or shame.

  “It’s not about confronting Daddy,” I said. “It’s about comforting him. He made his life out of barbeque sauce. He built a restaurant on it, supported the whole family. His food is his pride and joy.”

  “No.” Tidus stared at me. “You’re his pride and joy. Someone once said that’s how a family’s supposed to work.”

  “All the more reason to avoid hurting him. I can’t tell my father I don’t think his sauce is good enough for me, that he’ll never win a competition with it.” I covered my face with my hands. “I should have gone into an easier profession. Rocket science. Shark taming. Is it hard to be a mechanic?”

  “Only when girls like you wander around the garage, turning oil pans into skillets and wrenches into whisks.”

  “One time.”

  He tugged on my arm, bringing me closer. Tidus had a habit of pinning my wrists against his chest, like he didn’t believe I’d stay on my own.

  “You’re gonna do fine at this gig,” he said. “You’re right where you belong.”

  I grazed my lips against his. “No…now I’m right where I belong.”

  It was like he held me close so he could push away. I could see it in his expression, hear it in his words. Tidus fought against everything he felt for me.

  If only he knew what I could give him.

  Or maybe that’s exactly why he resisted.

  His voice turned gruff, a sexy growl he used to tease. “You belong in my bed. Flat on your back. Legs spread.”

  I smirked. “You gotta get me there first.”

  “Never seemed that hard.”

  I tickled my fingers down, down, down, smiling as I brushed the tension straining his jeans. “Always seemed hard to me.”

  “You make it that way.”

  “Pretty sure you’ll fuck anything that moves,” I teased.

  “Maybe at one time…” He hummed. “But I’m a reformed man now.”

  “And what’s that mean?”

  He drove me into the kitchen counter. I bit my lip as his hands settled at my waist.

  “Means I prefer my woman to be sweet,” he said.

  “In taste or personality?”

  He ran his tongue along his canines. “Fortunately for me, I have both. Don’t gotta choose.”

  He tore at the button of my jeans. I didn’t stop him.

  “I always thought I’d be spicy,” I said.

  “You’re hotter than fire.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  He grunted and pulled my jeans from my legs. “Extremely.”

  “Then why take the risk?”

  His gaze studied my every curve, the dark secrets I offered. The panties hid nothing from him. Tidus knew exactly what wetted for him under the cotton.

  “Maybe I like risking pain?” he asked.

  I pouted. “Never wanted to cause you pain. I’ve only ever tried to give you pleasure.”

  “No such thing as pleasure witho
ut pain. Learned that the hard way.”

  He set me on the counter, and I teased him, drawing my bare leg along his thigh. “I don’t believe that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you haven’t hurt me.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’ve been hurting you since I first met you.”

  “Then I must be the biggest masochist in the world.”

  “You’re a naïve little girl…” His words shadowed with a ravenous hunger. “You don’t realize how foolish it is to come into my home, get trapped in my arms, sleep in my bed…”

  “You don’t scare me.”

  “I should.”

  “Why? What could you do to me?” I leaned back, teasing my fingers in my panties. The soft cotton shimmied over my thighs. His stare ravaged me without a single touch. “How rough can you take me?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “Imagined it since I met you.”

  “You don’t deserve to be treated that way.”

  “Then pretend it isn’t me.”

  “Why?” He shook his head. “So I can pretend you’re some stranger, begging to be fucked on her knees, in her ass, taken from every conceivable angle?”

  I shuddered. His fingers explored low, testing my slit. I wetted for him, and the thrill of it only made it slicker.

  “That’s not you, Honey Hudson,” he said. “You’re the Daddy’s girl. The good girl.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t make me bad.”

  “Why?” His voice softened. “Why, when you’re the one woman who could make me good?”

  My words trembled. “Do you still think you’re bad?”

  “I don’t know anymore. Not sure of anything now.”

  “What changed?”

  His fingers moved a bit faster. “When a beautiful girl slept in my bed and didn’t leave the next morning.”

  “Have you ever had a real relationship?”

  He didn’t want to answer that. Instead, he tried to distract me with a flick to my petals and a delicious smile. “Have you?”

  “Never.”

  “Not sure why you’d look for one in me,” he said.

  “Not sure why you’re trying to fight it.”

  He admired my body, my curves, the parts of me opened and ready for him.

  “I’ve only ever fucked hard and fast…nothing with meaning,” he said.

  I bucked my hips, delighting myself with his touch. “You think we’re meaningful?”

  “I don’t know what the fuck we are, Honey.”

  I did. “We’re good together.”

  He could deflect any compliment, any positivity away with a wolfish smile. “Yeah, I fit my cock inside you real good.”

  I gripped his hand, holding it still over the most sensitive part of me. Took a lot of trust to let a man that rough and troubled so near my every secret. But I did. Willingly. Just to prove it to him.

  “We’re good together,” I said again. “In every way.”

  “I agree,” Tidus grunted. “We’re good when you’re on your knees, on your back, pressed against the shower wall…you remember that one.”

  How could a girl forget? “It’s not every day I get dirtier when I’m trying to stay clean.”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to stay dirty.”

  “But is it better?”

  “No.”

  Tidus gripped my hips as his kisses traced downward. The man could go radio silent in an instant, but he was good at making sure I didn’t have the breath to call him on it.

  He ducked between my legs, nipping at my thighs. Didn’t take much to push them apart. Once he sunk into me, his tongue teasing my sensitive folds, I had no defense against him.

  He offered pleasure. Breathless delight. Mind-blowing orgasms.

  But it was a distraction. Always a distraction.

  What would this man think, say, do if I forced him to confront reality?

  His tongue twirled and tormented. I brushed my hand through his hair and pulled him closer to my slit.

  “Why are you so afraid to admit how much you like me?” I whispered.

  A strange question for a man who spoke with a mouthful of my petals.

  “I’m not,” he grunted.

  “Then tell me.”

  “I live for this. Your skin. Your voice. This pussy.” He groaned into me. “Oh, Honey, you have no idea what I could do with this pussy.”

  I had a pretty good idea. He could finger it, tongue it, fuck it. Take me to the brink, drop me over the other side, and catch me before I hit the bottom.

  “Is that all you like?” I asked.

  “Don’t act like you’re insulted.” His voice roughened. “You love what I do to you. How I make you feel. How hard you come for me. You have no idea what I’d do to your wet little pussy if I had it forever.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “It’s yours.”

  It wasn’t a challenge he’d accept. I knew it. He knew it. And yet, I still asked it of him.

  I met his gaze, my breath breaking into heated gasps. His eyes were dark, a devious sort of green. Beyond mischief or wickedness. Shrouded in his own self-inflicted chaos. He had no idea how beautiful they were. How much they saw. How utterly devilish it looked as he stared at me from between my legs, his tongue flicking at my folds.

  He broke the gaze first. “You offer too much to me.”

  “But you won’t take any of it.”

  “Your sweetness is like an addiction, Honey. I can’t let myself get overwhelmed…even by you.”

  Even as he spoke, his fingers dazzled me. My warmth betrayed me, but I didn’t want to hide how badly I needed this man. My attraction to him—my affection for him—was every honesty he’d ever demanded.

  “You’re so afraid of relapsing…” I arched, offering more of myself. “That you refuse to look into the future.”

  “What future does a guy like me have?”

  Didn’t he know? Couldn’t he see it? Tidus denied all that I could give him.

  “What future do you want?” I asked.

  “One as deep in you as I can get.”

  I reached for him, pulling him close. He grinned as I unleashed his cock from his jeans. Nothing about Tidus was gentle, even what he liked for his own pleasure. I tugged on his shaft, hard, punishing him with the squeeze of my palm.

  Even in the throes of desire, he didn’t allow himself a moment of peace.

  He flatted his palms on the cabinets above me, and I guided his cock to my slit. He held his breath as I teased him with my slick petals. The man could easily conquer me, but he let me take control, embedding myself upon his length. My tightness clenched around him. The heat welcomed him.

  And I gripped his waist with my legs and drove him within me.

  “Have you ever had sex like this before?” My voice trembled.

  “You don’t want to know the answer to that.”

  “Have you ever made love like this before?” I didn’t let him look away, refused the silence of his kiss. “Have you ever confided in a woman? Trusted her? Taken her home to your family? Let her really know you?”

  I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it. I demanded to know why he couldn’t resist fucking me, taking me, pounding me with an animalistic need that bound us beyond the bedroom.

  “I’ve never had a woman like that.” He punctuated his frustration with a fierce slice deep into me. “I’ve always been a slave to my addiction—whatever drug of the month scarred my veins.”

  He thrust within me again, forcing a groan. He punished me for my own damned curiosity, for daring him to speak the truth. And he loved how his cock so easily stole my every resistance.

  “You’re better now,” I said. “No more vices. No more reasons to hide. What do you want to do with your life now? With all that opportunity?”

  His strokes increased, a little faster, each pump grinding me against the cabinets. “I can think of a few things.”

  “What about the future?”

  “
Never pictured myself there.”

  “Not even with me?”

  He stilled, brushing a hand against my cheek. Our bodies pressed tight, slick with wetness and heavy with heat.

  “Honey, I’ve never had a real life before…now you’re offering me something…more.”

  “Does it scare you?”

  I didn’t get an answer.

  Instead, I got fucked.

  He gripped me hard, dragging me closer to the edge of the counter to drive in deeper to the parts of me that asked for nothing and took what he was willing to give. His hard strokes sizzled through me, but I didn’t let the intensity steal my control. Not yet. He fucked me to distract me, to focus only on his size so I wouldn’t see the rest of him.

  I bit my lip and clung to that raging, wild man, desperate to concentrate on anything that wasn’t the thick, pulsing cock rutting so perfectly into my softness.

  His growl nearly set me over the edge. “Don’t resist it. You’ll never win.”

  This wasn’t about winning or losing. This was about the truth, the future, the words we’d shared and the feelings we still hid.

  “Are you that afraid of me?” I asked.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I think you’re afraid.”

  “And I think you’re a fool for not coming on this cock.”

  I agreed, but it wouldn’t stop me. I forced my own desire aside as I clutched the man who wanted nothing more than for me to let him go forever.

  “I know you want that future, that new life,” I said. “Everything I promised. You can have it, Tidus.”

  “I just want that little pussy to come for me.”

  So did I, but I fought the desire—so hot and dire my core would tear itself apart if I didn’t surrender soon. But I couldn’t let it happen. Not until he realized.

  “I can give you so much more,” I whispered.

  “I know you can—haven’t even tried your ass yet.”

  Vulgar and terrible and such a naughty thought it nearly cast me over the edge. I struggled against my own ragged breath, the shade of white stealing my vision.

  “You’re so afraid of relapsing that you’re not going to let yourself enjoy what you have now,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Freedom.”

  He teased my clit with a thumb. “Overrated. I would rather stay under the boot so I know why I’m fighting.”