Cowgirls Don't Cry (25 page)

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Authors: Lorelei James

Tags: #Red Hots!, #Western Romance

BOOK: Cowgirls Don't Cry
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“Thank you for waitin’, Jess. I’ve eaten enough meals alone to last a lifetime.”

There was proof of Brandt’s openness. His willingness to just say what he felt. Jessie met his gaze again. “Me too. I’ll dish up the plates.”

Brandt strapped Landon in his high chair and poured him a sippy cup of milk. Then he set six animal crackers on the tray.

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They waited to see how he’d react. Sometimes Landon calmly gummed his cookies and sipped milk.

Other times he’d use the heavy bottom weight of the cup to smash the cookies into dust. If he was feeling ornery, or if he was tired, he’d slide his hand on the tray until he knocked every cookie to the floor. Then he’d usually whip the sippy cup too, and scream “No!” at the top of his lungs, arching his back, trying to throw himself out of the high chair.

Tonight Landon used both hands to drink and ignored the cookies.

Brandt tucked into his food. About five or six bites in, Jessie noticed he’d picked out all the green peppers and piled them off to the side. Feeling her curious gaze, he looked up. “What? Am I eatin’ like a pig or something?”

“No, but you should’ve told me you didn’t like green peppers.” She realized she’d put green peppers in a lot of dishes. “I could’ve left them out of everything.”

His neck flushed. “It’s no big deal to eat around them. Especially when everything you fix is so good.”

“Charmer. Anything else you don’t like, foodwise, as long as we’re on the subject?”

“Turnips, parsnips, radishes, beets, prunes, collard greens, Dijon mustard, strawberry ice cream. I could take or leave coconut. Same for cauliflower.”

Jessie stared at him. “So a fall soup with root vegetables isn’t a good idea?”

He smiled. “Nope. But if you made it I’d probably eat it anyway.”

“Because you don’t want to hurt my feelings?”

“No. Because any kind of food just seems to taste better when I’m eatin’ it with you.”

Sometimes the man was just so damn sweet.

Before she could formulate a decent response, Landon shrieked, “Goggie!”

Jessie attributed Lexie warming to Landon because the kid was a messy eater. The dog would park herself beside the high chair and clean up the floor as soon as Landon was done.

So why was she hearing
crunch crunch crunch
now?

Landon peered over the side of the tray at the dog and giggled. Then he grabbed another animal cracker and tossed it at Lexie.

Crunch crunch crunch
and another giggle.

Brandt lifted his brows. “That’s new.”

“Uh-huh. Looks like Lexie will be elsewhere during meals because Landon will give
goggie
all his food in hopes she’ll be his BFF.”

“At least he hasn’t figured out how to get the lid off his cup yet.”

She jabbed her fork at him. “And you, Brandt McKay, have just jinxed us.”

Landon’s shrieks escalated when he ran out of cookies. Brandt ate the last bite on his plate and stood.

“Okay, partner. You and me got a date with bubbles.”

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“No!”

“Yes.” He unclipped the tray and set it on the counter.

“Yef,” Landon repeated.

Brandt looked at her. “That’s new too.”

“I hope what I’ve been doing helps him. He’s a little old for grunting and pointing to get what he wants.”

He swung Landon onto his hip and smirked.

A smirk she recognized. “What?”

“That’s what you reduced me to earlier. A grunting fool and you gave me exactly what I wanted.”

“Grown men really do have the same mentality as seventeen month old toddlers.”

Brandt grinned and headed to the bathroom.

Jessie cleaned up the kitchen and made four bottles. Landon was already down two bottles for the day, compared to the six he’d started with. Bath time had gotten better, but the kid really didn’t like getting wet.

She heard Brandt’s muffled voice and splashing as she passed by the bathroom. In her bedroom she noticed Brandt had draped his clothes over the top of the dresser, instead of leaving them piled on the floor.

Another sign of his thoughtful nature—he didn’t expect her to clean up after him.

She slipped on a camisole and her favorite pair of yoga pants. Granted, she hadn’t attempted yoga, but she figured the pants were the best part anyway. She glanced longingly at the bed Brandt had recently occupied, rumpled sheets and the pillow held the indent of his head.

God. She’d missed having a warm male body beside her. Luke hadn’t been snuggly, so it thrilled her that Brandt slept entangled with her all night. Every night. Without exception. She’d stopped wearing pajama bottoms to bed because Brandt kept her plenty warm. Plus, it was handy when he woke her up to have his wicked way with her.

Powerful stuff, how much he always wanted her. Even now, the thought of his ragged breath teasing her nape, or his mouth tasting the line of her shoulder, or his rough hands stroking her arms, her belly, and her breasts made her wet and achy. There was an odd sort of comfort in the way he touched her in the wee small hours. Almost like a compulsion. An addiction. Sometimes he’d just caress her with a feather light touch until she was ready to crawl out of her skin.

Other times he’d start kissing her neck and keep moving south until his mouth was between her thighs. Definitely erotic, feeling him sucking and licking her sex when she couldn’t see his head beneath the covers and she was still floaty in that morning sleep haze.

“Jess?”

Her cheeks flamed when she looked at him, standing in the doorway with Landon on his hip. “Ah.

What? I was just changing.”

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He smirked. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking about. And to add fuel to the fire, his gaze idly drifted over her, head to toe, with a blast of heat strong enough that she had to hold on to the dresser to keep from jumping him.

Landon grunted, breaking their connection. “Anyway, what did you need?”

“Nail clippers. Landon’s fingernails and toenails are like claws.”

“I’ll get them.” She couldn’t resist kissing Landon’s damp, rosy cheek as she passed by him. She couldn’t resist pressing her mouth to Brandt’s full lips.

Brandt’s eyes held pure pleasure. “What was that for?”

She didn’t say,
For turning me on in more ways than I ever dreamed possible
. Instead, she just gave him the same kind of smirk he’d given her.

Despite his late nap, Landon was tired and Brandt put him down at his usual time. She was in the kitchen, flipping through a cookbook, when Brandt moved in behind her.

“What’s cookin’? Need any help heatin’ things up?”

“You’re funny. I’m looking for a recipe for a pear tart. I’ve got all these ripe pears I need to use up.

And you seem to like sweet stuff.”

“Mmm. I can think of one sweet thing in particular I like to eat. A lot.”

Jessie blushed.

“I love it when you blush.”

“I know, it gives me some color and I don’t look so pasty white.”

Brandt slapped her butt. “Don’t say shit like that or I will spank you and turn your other cheeks red.

It’s sexy as hell how you’ll let me do anything to your body that I want, but if I talk about it, you blush. But since you’re usually dressed when I’m teasin’ you, I wanna know if that blush covers your whole body.”

He kissed the section of skin below her ear. “So let’s find out. Take your pants off.”

“What? You can’t possibly be—”

“Oh, I’m completely serious. And if you don’t take them off, I will.” He nipped her ear. “Now.”

“But—”

“Huh-uh. You’ve got about three seconds.”

Heart pounding, Jessie peeled down the yoga pants and kicked them aside.

He murmured, “Good to see you’re goin’ commando now.”

“You’re a bad influence on me, Brandt McKay.”

“I beg to differ.” His fingers traced the bottom edge of her lacy camisole, from the left side of her waist to the right side, causing her belly muscles to ripple inside and out. He gripped the edges and said,

“Lift your arms,” removing her camisole.

It was weird standing buck-ass nekkid in her kitchen, especially since Brandt was fully clothed. She started to turn around, but he boxed her in.

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“Stay like this.” He slid her hands to the edge of the countertop, slipping his knee between her legs in a signal to widen her stance. “Perfect.”

“Brandt—”

“Trust me, Jess?”

It took about ten seconds, but she nodded.

“Good. Close your eyes. Relax.”

She let her eyes drift shut, but she was in no way relaxed. His body shifted as he reached for something on the counter. Then his wonderfully rough hand glided down her bare stomach, stopping to cover her mound. His fingers stroked her cleft, teasing her folds until she felt herself growing wet, heavy with need.

His fingers vanished. Before she could protest, a cool, round object connected with her clit and she gasped, “What is that?”

“No fair peeking. Keep your eyes closed.” Brandt steadily dragged it up and down her slit in a smooth glide that followed the contour of her sex from top to bottom. He whispered, “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

His lips feathered hot, moist kisses across her neck. He circled her clit, never too hard, or too soft, exacting the ideal amount of pressure to keep her wanting more. Then he’d slide it down to the juncture of her thighs, using her slick juices to slide back up.

Jessie noticed the rounded object was no longer cool, but warmed from friction against her body. It didn’t feel as hard. It’d become soft, pliable.

“Imagine this is my cock riding your slit.” He arced it from the opening of her body, up to the top of her pubic bone. Each stroke faster. Shorter. His breath stirred her hair and she had no problem imagining it was Brandt’s cock gently driving her toward orgasm.

On the next upstroke, he brought that mysterious object up the center of her torso, between her cleavage, over the column of her throat to rest on her lips. She felt the stickiness of her juices, not only on her mouth, but in a trail from her chin to her bikini line.

Brandt growled in her ear. “Lick it.”

Jessie’s tongue darted out and she lapped up the taste of her own musky essence from the warm and rounded slope.

“Bite down.”

Her teeth sank in, and the sweet, earthy taste of pear juice burst in her mouth. A moan escaped as she sucked at the fruit, greedily biting off a chunk of perfect ripeness. The flesh nearly melted against her tongue. The fruit flowed down her throat as she swallowed, but more juice spilled from her lips and dripped over her chin as she stole another juicy bite. And another. And another.

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Brandt plucked the fruit away, spun her around and fused their mouths together. The taste of Brandt exploded on her tongue, mixing with the sweetness of the pear and the hint of her own juices. He sucked at her tongue, licking the soft depths of her mouth, guiding them to a new level of lust just with his potent kiss.

And then he gently pressed that squishy, sticky fruit to the top of her pubic bone until pear juice trickled down her cleft in a syrupy stream and dampened her thighs.

Jessie gasped at the sensation, breaking the kiss.

Brandt growled, leaving sucking kisses on the sticky trail down her body. He fell to his knees and buried his face in her pussy.

“Brandt! Oh God.” Jessie’s fingers scrabbled for purchase on the counter behind her as she attempted to hold on against his sensual assault.

Brandt’s thumbs pulled the skin back to expose her clit. He lapped the juices—hers and the pear’s—

like a junkie. Thoroughly tasting every inch of her while that rumbling noise in his throat that vibrated against her swollen tissues.

When he switched to those flickering butterfly licks, she was toast. Her body shook with every orgasmic pulse. She might’ve gasped. Actually, she might’ve screamed. But she mostly couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding in ears that mimicked the throbbing goodness pounding in her groin.

It would’ve been embarrassing, how quickly she’d started to come after Brandt put his mouth on her, but the orgasm was so incredibly volatile that any lucid thought beyond
Yes! Yes! Yes!
didn’t register at all.

Only when Brandt started kissing her quivering thighs did she float back to earth. She peeled her lids open and peered down at him.

Maybe she expected he’d be munching on the leftover chunk of pear with a gleam in his eye. But he had an even wilder look to him.

Keeping his fiery gaze on her, he ditched his sweatpants and smothered her mouth in another controlling kiss as he brought them down to the floor.

There were no sweet words. No asking permission. As Brandt scrambled her brain with savage kisses, he settled between her thighs, hiked her hips up and plunged inside her.

His lower body pumped into hers, and he attempted to pin her arms over her head, but Jessie twisted free of his grip, digging her nails into his ass as her legs circled his waist. Keeping him exactly where she wanted him.

Brandt slammed into her harder. Pushed her higher off the floor. The kiss became impossible to sustain, given the ferocity of his thrusts.

She canted her pelvis, changing his angle of entry so his every plunge brushed her clit. She hissed,

“Yes. Like that.”

He grunted, flexing his hips with enough velocity they skidded across the linoleum.

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Jessie knew he was close, knew she needed to send him over in order to reach that pinnacle herself.

She dragged her nails down his sweat-covered back, loving how the tactile sensation and the hint of pain always surprised him. Always drove him wild. Immediately his whole body shuddered as he started to come, bucking against her forcefully.

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