After the Sunset (3 page)

I smiled up at him, sliding forward on the desk, my hands on his hips, inhaling him, the smell of the summer sun on his clothes and sweat and the musky scent that was just Rand. “I’m happy to be the voice of reason in your head.” I teased him.

His thumb stroked over my bottom lip, and as he looked at me, his eyes narrowed to slits of electric blue. My stomach flipped over.

Slowly, he bent toward me, and when I felt his fingers on my jaw, I tilted my head back as he wanted and received the claiming kiss. His mouth slanted down over mine possessively, his tongue parting my lips, rubbing over mine. I moaned deeply, and his hands were on my thighs, lifting, wanting my legs wrapped around his hips.

“Why are you wearing that shirt?” he asked me, the words spoken against my throat, his hot, wet breath on my skin.

“What?” It was a strange question.

“Why are you wearing
my
shirt?” he asked pointedly.

From the low, husky sound of his voice, I understood that my wearing his clothes had touched something very primal inside of him. He liked it a lot. “Because it was clean, and we need to do laundry,” I said, shoving my groin against his abdomen, pressing into him.

“It’s so fuckin’ hot.”

There was nothing remotely sexy about me dressed in an old practice T-shirt of Rand’s that had his number on it, seven, from back when he played football in high school. I had noticed that there was a rip in it only when we were halfway to the college, but had no intention of driving all the way home just to change. It wasn’t a huge hole, more a tear that you would only notice if you stared. And he had promised me a walk to the creek after we visited my new office and had lunch, having taken off the whole day like he never could or did, just to spend some time with me. So because my day would be filled with just us, I had seen no real reason to change. And now I was glad I hadn’t.

“You know, between that there shirt and your hat, I bet none of these folks ’round here expect you to be faculty.”

“No, probably not,” I gasped because his hands had closed on my ass and squeezed tight.

“Fuck,” he growled, and moved fast, taking off his hat, doing the Frisbee throw with it to the chair, and bending to shove the T-shirt up so he could kiss my bare stomach.

“Rand—”

“Sometimes I just wanna lick over every piece of you.”

Oh God.

He pressed his lips to my abdomen and kissed and licked and suckled and nibbled until I was writhing under him on the edge of the desk. My belt was hastily unbuckled, the snap tugged on and the zipper roughly pulled. I felt his hands spreading the flaps, sliding over the elastic waistband of my briefs and then his fingers grazing the skin above my shaft.

I lifted up and he peeled everything down, jeans, underwear, and my cock bobbed free, hard and already leaking with just the promise of attention. I shivered when, without a word of warning, he bent and took me down the back of his throat.

“Rand,” I called his name, hands in his hair, loving the feel of his hot mouth and the fierce, exquisite suction, the cold hard wood on my ass, the taboo of being in an office, and the knowledge that we were the only ones in the entire six-story building. School was out until the first week in September, and I was so very, very glad.

The man who had been a novice at blowjobs two years earlier was now well-practiced, with a sense of his own power and an acute knowledge of all my hot buttons. He knew it had to start fast and end slow, knew that I liked it best when he dripped saliva down my crease and pressed fingers inside me at the same time, and knew, finally, that I would come loud and hard if I was manhandled and held down and fucked until I screamed.

“Let’s try somethin’ different,” he growled, and I was bent in half, my knees, still trapped in my jeans, shoved against my chest, his hands on the back of my thighs as I felt his tongue slide over my entrance.

“Rand!”

He pressed his tongue inside me, and I had to grip the edge of the desk not to jolt under him. It felt so good, the stubble of his beard on my tender skin, the slow, sensual stroking, and his mouth against my fluttering hole. When he added a finger, my back bowed up off the desk.

I heard him spit, felt the second finger slide in with the first, coated in saliva, and scissor inside me.

“Oh Rand, please.”

He fucked me with his fingers, as his other hand slid over the clenching muscles of my abdomen. “You are so beautiful, Stef,” he got out, his voice gruff and low, as he reached for my jeans, yanking them off my left leg, not bothering with the right, just needing to be able to part my thighs, and spread me before him.

“You get off on looking at me like this, holding whatever position you put me in.”

“Yeah,” he almost snarled.

“You want to fuck me anywhere you want, mark me, and put me on my knees wherever you please.”

There was only a growl from him.

“So fuck me,” I begged him, pushing back on his thrusting fingers, wanting to be fuller, needing deeper, needing more.

“You’re so tight.”

“Fuck me!”

Slowly, he withdrew his slippery, talented digits, and then grabbed hold of my ass, my cheeks, spreading them as I felt the engorged, leaking head of his cock press against my puckered hole.

I lifted up, ready for him. “I need you.”

“And if we had lube, I would bury myself in you so hard you’d fuckin’ scream my name, but we’re gonna go slow until I feel your body wrap around me all tight and wet.”

The man had his own, aching, demanding need, but for him, always, I came first. He pressed forward into me, pushing gently but insistently, letting my inner muscles relax and remember the pleasure the intrusion would bring. They rippled with anticipation.

“Oh fuck, Stef, you feel so fuckin’ good.”

He eased back a fraction and then pushed forward, my channel clenching around the thick, hard silky length of him, precome and saliva mixing together, the slide not as smooth as usual, but the slight burn felt amazing, the pinch sending sizzling heat racing over my skin.

I lifted higher, forcing him to thrust inside to keep me still, and when I lifted a leg, resting my calf on his shoulder, he tugged me forward, and buried himself inside me, sheathing his enormous cock deep inside my ass.

“Rand!” I screamed his name.

His balls were against my ass as he began pumping into me, the smack of skin on skin like a hammer in the tiny room.

He felt too good. I was so full, stretched like I always was, as his shaft slid over my prostate, and he wrapped his fingers around my painfully hard, leaking cock.

I whimpered and moaned, lifting my other leg to his shoulder as he bent over me, driving inside, pistoning in and out of me, the desk shaking with the force of each driving thrust.

“Fuck, Stef, I gotta see!”

He moved me so easily, pulling me close, the angle changing so I was impaled for a moment, the sensation of him so deep that I caught my breath for a second before I was shoved face down on the desk.

“Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned. “Look at your ass take my cock.”

Rand loved to watch his massive dick slide in and out of my small, round, tight ass. Even more, he liked to fist his hand in my hair, yank my head back, and hold there as he pounded into me. His kink was to see the slope of my back, watch my pink hole as it swallowed the veined shaft of his inch by inch. I felt him tremble with lust.

“Fuck me so I feel it, Rand,” I told him. “Fuck me hard.”

The first plunge took my breath away.

“Jerk yourself off, baby.” His voice cracked, lowered. “I can’t do it. I gotta hold on.”

I understood.

His part was to clench my hip so hard he’d leave bruises, tighten his grip in my hair so I was immobile, and give himself over to the orgasm roaring through him as he drove into me with brutal, savage intensity.

I didn’t have to touch myself. When he nailed my prostate on the second thrust, I came on my desk, shooting my load over the cheap polished wood.

“Stefan!”

My name was howled as my channel was filled, thick and hot, and he fucked me through his orgasm and mine, pumping hard as my muscles clamped down, squeezing him, milking him dry, ringing every last bit of pleasure from our savage coupling in my new office.

“Great way to christen my desk, Rand.” I laughed as he finally took a breath, wrapping his arms around me, straightening me up without pulling out, his chest plastered to my back.

He bit down into my shoulder, and I shuddered in his arms, reveling in the feel of him even through his clothes and of his now-softening cock still inside me.

“I feel so good when I’m inside you, Stef, and not just because it’s fuckin’ heaven, but because I can feel your heart. You are all mine when I’m inside you, and I know it, and I just wanna brand you or something.”

I grunted. “Do not get any ideas.”

He laughed, and I felt his mouth open against the side of my neck. The man did like leaving his mark on me. I was lucky that school didn’t start for three more weeks; a hickey on the first day would not make a good impression.

“Thank you for staying,” he said after another minute, turning me suddenly, spinning me around and giving me a full body hug, all of him pressed to all of me.

When we got back to the ranch after lunch, he walked me a different way to the creek than he normally did, along some railroad tracks. He made me wear my cowboy boots like he always did when we walked through grass or over dirt. It turned out that boots were not just decorative; they saved you from things like rocks and snake bites and a myriad of hidden dangers. The walk took longer than I thought it would, and after a while, because it was hot, I decided to go barefoot.

Rand was concerned.

“You’re gonna get splinters.”

What was funny was that of all the things in the world—spiders, snakes, acts of God—he was worried about splinters. It was stupid until I got one.

“Shit.”

“Told you.”

He bent and then flipped out the knife he carried all the time, and went down to one knee.

I moved back. “It’s a splinter. You don’t need to cut off my foot or something.”

“Don’t be a damn baby. I know what I’m doing.”

I was amazed that the tip of the knife could be wielded so deftly. When he turned his back to me, offering, I climbed on. I had not had a piggyback ride since I was five, and it was kind of fun. I really enjoyed pressing my groin to the small of Rand’s back.

“Stop,” he ordered me. “Or you’re gonna get put on your hands and knees right here, and once a day without lube is probably more than enough.”

I was a little sore, but not enough to say no to Rand being back inside me. “Rand—”

“Wait,” he interrupted me. “Just… I need to say something.”

“What’s that?”

“About earlier, I want you to know that between the deal with Powell and now this contract with Grillmaster, my ranch, our ranch, is good. I mean if I get caught in a stampede tomorrow, you and my mother and Char are all well provided for and—”

“For fuck’s sake, Rand,” I barked at him, pinching one of his nipples before I pushed off his back, dropping to the ground. “Why would you even say something like—”

“So you’ll believe me when I say that all you were doin’ when you were workin’ that job was annoying the shit outta me.” He growled as he turned around to face me. “I need you here, Stef. I need you to take care of my home and me and my life so I don’t just become this goddamn ranch!”

“But you already are the ranch,” I reminded him.

“No, Stefan,” he said as he grabbed hold of the back of my neck and yanked me forward, forcing me to look him in the eye. “You are my life. Nothing else means anything if you’re not here.”

The way he was looking at me was almost scary. I had no right to be the man’s everything when I was still so messed up, worrying about being able to support myself and save while working at a much diminished salary. I needed to have a safety net, but Rand was telling me it was unnecessary. “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re saying.”

“I’m speaking clear as anything. You’re just bein’ ornery.”

“Ornery?” I laughed at him. “Who uses that word?”

“Listen to me,” he began, ignoring my amusement. “We have us a joint checking account that you never touch. We have a savings account that you don’t touch either. I’m telling you right here and now that I want you to close your account from Chicago and start using the one we share. If you end up not liking the teaching, you can open your own business, do whatever the hell you want, but I need to see your face every night.”

I reached up and put my hand on his cheek. “You really didn’t like it when I had to stay overnight in the city, huh?”

He turned his head, kissing my palm, before he stepped forward into me, face down in my shoulder as his hands slid up under my shirt and touched my skin. I trembled in his arms, the feel of his callused palms on my body making my pulse jump.

“Rand!” I was surprised when he bent and threw me over his shoulder, carried me to a nearby tree, dropped me on my feet, spun me around, and shoved me up against it.

“No, I didn’t like it at all. You should be home when I’m home, period.”

I didn’t have time to speak, to argue with him, to tell him that his ideas about a mate were antiquated, before he reached down and dragged the T-shirt up over my head. I tried to turn, but he held me still, his mouth between my shoulder blades, kissing, licking, sucking on my skin. I got hard with the feel of his hands working open my buckle and belt, freeing my cock but nothing else, making no move to get me naked.

“Your skin makes me fuckin’ crazy,” he confessed, his voice low and husky, so sexy.

He kissed his way down to the small of my back and then turned me around in his arms, kneeling, hands fisted in my jeans as he licked the engorged head of my cock.

“Oh God, Rand,” I whispered hoarsely, my hands clutching his shoulders as I pushed into his mouth, watching his lips slide over my swollen shaft, taking me in until his nose was buried in my groin.

I pulled back, and shoved back in hard, fucking his mouth, feeling his hands gripping my ass now through the denim, savoring his hot, wet mouth and his tongue swirling around my cock.