Hard Drivin Man (5 page)

“How about I come plough your fields?”

She hummed, ran a hand up through her hair, luxuriant as a cat, and curved up a shoulder. “Lovely offer. But I’d need you more than in spring and fall.”

He pushed into her on that note. “I’d be at your command.”

“Really?” She stroked his hipbone, running her fingers down through the dark short curls above his cock. “How often could you come?”

He blew out a gust of air. Then he rammed her once, twice, three times. “As often as you need me.”

“I do need you!” she whispered in a rasp that couldn’t be her own. She strained up to get him closer, nearer, dearer to her. “I need you, Trey,” she told him again, now with tears in her eyes and in her words, his nearness so vital to her. He dropped into her over and over again. Her hands grabbed for some part of him to hold onto as he focused on her face and fucked her hard and long until she pierced the air with her cries and he shouted out a hoarse declaration that she belonged to him.

Some time later, he rose up and left her. In a fuzzy part of her consciousness, she heard him run water, flush the toilet and come back to her. He rolled her over to one side so that he could embrace her from behind and sank his fingers into her juicy cunt. With strokes that awakened her to renewed needs, she wiggled her ass back into his groin and moaned her approval of his pursuits.

“You make me so hungry for you, Trey.” She turned her face to invite his kiss.

He gave her a tender one and pulled back to whisper, “If I can make you want me every minute of every day, don’t doubt I’ll try, Jess.” He rubbed his nose along her shoulder and bit her flesh. “I’ll work so hard to make you come for me with a touch or a look, you’ll do it across a crowded room.”

She undulated beneath his hand, purring like a cat. “Yum. I want that.”

He burrowed further into her folds to find her clitoris and massage it with two fingers.

“You’ll know that in my mind I’m stroking your pretty pussy and nipping your clit.”

She bucked, the very idea a stimulation that had her whimpering for completion.

“Make love to me again, Trey.”

He rolled her to her tummy and before she could think what was happening, he had her up on her knees, her ass in the air, and his fingers spreading her folds wide from behind.

“Oh, Jess,” he groaned, “you are beautiful this way, too, honey.” He sent two fingers up inside her from behind and he bent to put his lips to one buttock. His fingers going in and out of her sounded luscious, the succulent fragrance of their musk and watermelon filling the room. He bit her ass cheek. “I love how you sound.” He kissed where he’d bitten. “I love how you give in to me.” He withdrew his fingers and tore at a condom, to roll it on and plunge his sweet hard shaft up inside her.

She sucked in air, filled and thrilled by his length, his girth, his heat. She shifted back into him.

He slid impossibly farther inside her and with his hands braced on her hips, he took her once more to a gasping, groaning orgasm that pulsed through her with electric jolts. He spent his cum seconds after, grinding into her with abandon. But she was floating, fulfilled but feverish for more. So that even after he came to a halt, she milked him with massages of her pussy walls and made him hang his head on her back and groan with her strokes.

She sank to the bed and he collapsed atop her, his weight, massive and warm. She wiggled and he rolled to lie flat on his back. Filled with an energy she’d never experienced, she turned to one side. Surveying this ravishing man who had just taken her three times to orgasms so powerful she still felt the hollows of the vibrations, she knew she was a woman fresh to an intoxicating kind of loving. This mating with him had been nothing like that with Clint. While she needed to examine why that was, now was definitely not the time.

Now was a time to savour and enjoy this man. Again.

“You are beautiful.” She leaned over to kiss his lips and run the fingers of her hand through the satin hair on his head and the prickly black hair on his chest. She nuzzled him there, inhaling the scent of him, the scent of her on him—and she grinned against his ribs.

“How can it be that a man who knows how to make love so well hasn’t been snared by some smart girl before the age of thirty-one?”

Eyes still closed, he dropped one hand over hers and tilted up the corners of his mouth.

“I was always practicing.”

“Never marrying.”

“You got that right.”

“Afraid of it?”

He opened one eye, stared at her, and shut it. “No.”

She snickered. “Afraid of women?”

This time he opened the other eye. “No.”

“Ah, I know.” She grinned, catching his chest hair in her fingers and rolling it into tight little curls. “Afraid they’d get your money.”

He closed his eyes, his mouth grim. “Ha! Never had any until my dad died. Never would have inherited the ranch either if Clint had lived or Sam had.” Sam, Trey’s and Clint’s oldest brother, had died ten years ago of a head injury from playing college football. “That’s why I joined the Army. Had to make something of myself, all by myself.”

She’d learned that lesson herself the hard way. When she realised Clint was an alcoholic about six years in to their marriage, she also soon learned he had no interest in getting sober.

Or staying sober. She cleared her throat now, forcing herself back to the moment and the question she longed to ask, but should have stayed away from. “So why didn’t you ever get married?”

Both black eyes opened now and fixed straight on her. “Truth?”

She nodded. “After what we’ve just shared. Yes, truth. Always. ”

He lifted her fingers now, each in turn as he frowned. “When I went to college, at first I was like any other guy, just looking for a weekend lay. No technique required.” He smiled ruefully. “One day, guess I was a freshman, a buddy of mine says hey, ask so–and–so to homecoming. I said, no, she doesn’t strike me. ‘Why?’ asks my friend. ‘Because she’s got brown hair and brown eyes—not strawberry blonde hair.’”

Jess went very still.

Trey pinned her hand to his heart. “’And green eyes.’”

Reason, anger and joy infused her with fire. “You can’t tell me that you were so taken with me that you didn’t date anybody who didn’t have those characteristics?”

“Why not?” His gaze grew hard as onyx. His cheeks flush with fury. “Why not, Jess, if it’s the truth? Why not, if that’s the way it happened, and I never knew consciously until that minute when he asked me?”

“Because you and I met when you were a kid!”

“And you were not much more than a kid yourself!”

“Still, that story makes me seem like a fantasy.”

“So what if you were? To me, you were important. So important that I measured you against every girl I looked at, every woman I wanted. I’m not saying it’s logical. And I’m not saying I planned it that way. So go ahead and argue with me, if you want. But you can’t change what was in my mind.”

“Oh trust me, I’m thrilled by the compliment, but the fact remains that we were just kids. And even if we shared Saturday mornings at the creek, how could you really know me?

The adult me? You don’t.”

“Trust me, Jess. I am not in bed with you, the child.”

She stared at him. Could he know her better than she thought possible?

He started to speak then but snapped his mouth shut. With a roll, he jounced to the edge of the bed and stood up. “Get up.”

She stood, knowing he was going to order her to go to sleep or to get dressed. And if that happened, they would go home and never speak of this again. Sorrow swamped her so quickly, she swayed in the storm.

“Pull down the bedspread.”

“Trey. I am not going to sleep in the midst of an argument with you.”

“Pull. Down. The. Bedspread.”

She blew out a gust of air and swiped her hair from her eyes. “Obstinate man.” She tossed mountains of pillows to the floor then yanked the duvet and the sheets down. For the second time this evening, she stood staring at a sight so totally unexpected. She bent and picked up one of the little round candies that lay strewn over the sheet. She examined it—

put the orange-flavoured bit in her mouth. Then another. Laughter bubbled up from the bottom of her heart, filled it and had her throwing back her head to chuckle.

A hand to her stomach, she felt the vibrations of her joy rumble deep inside her. She spun to him, her eyes misting up with mirth. As she strolled towards him, she off–handedly said, “You must have paid the hotel management a small fortune to comb west Texas in August for every jelly bean around.”

His body was rigid as she wound her arms around his neck and rose on tip toes to brush her mouth on his. “Not a small fortune, by any means,” he replied gruffly. But his arms pressed her nearer. “Not when you are in need only of two flavours. Orange and pina colada.”

“I imagine,” she whispered as she brushed her mouth over his, “that’s hard.”

“Damn, right, honey.”

“And deserves a big thank you.”

“I’d say so.” His mouth was splitting in grin. “Want to tell me what my thank you is gonna be?”

“Oh,” she breathed and nestled her breasts against his chest, “I’d say it’ll be special, really special, for a man who knows me so well.”

Chapter Three

She sank down, her skin brushing his like satin, her nipples blazing a trail over his abs and his hips, until one of her hands cupped his balls and the other covered his cock. She kissed the head of his penis and he bucked, sinking his fingers into her long silken hair. He threw his head back and shut his eyes.
Man, how many years had he dreamed of her taking him inher lush mouth?
He’d usually come at the first thought, never able to get beyond the initial feel of how she’d possess him.

But this was so much better than his poor imagination.

She was careful. Rolling his heavy balls in her soft fingers. She was devoted. Licking his cock all along one side and down the other.

And damn, she was slow. But oh, so creative. Nuzzling her nose against his belly, stroking his cock back and forth and humming against his groin. “Gonna kill me here, honey, if you don’t put me in your mouth again.”

“You liked that?” she asked, sounding stunned.

Part of him was so far gone with lust, at first he didn’t get the innocence in her tone.

But his brain kicked in enough for him to fist his hand in her hair and rejoice that this was not a regular act she performed. “Loved it. Let me have more, will you?”

She exhaled like a filly too long held back on the reigns. “You bet,” she crooned and caressed his testicles again, then kissed his navel and pulled away to sink her plump lips once more over the blunt head of his penis. He ground his teeth, having to tense his thighs to keep from blowing the whole scene then and there. His reward was her rhythmic, almost dream-like service to his cock. With warm and luscious pulls, she stroked his painfully turgid flesh and sank her mouth over him, moaning in her delight. He shot a hand out to the wall to keep from falling over.

She withdrew, making him bite his lip at the denial of her heat. She looked up at him with those doe’s eyes of hers, alarmed. “Can I keep going?”

“You’d better, Jess, or I’m gonna tear the house down with my bare hands.”

“Ohhhh, wonderful!” She exulted, a child with a huge prize. Rearranging her knees on the floor to scoot closer to him, she smiled against the length of his cock, running her mouth along him sideways, holding him firmly at the root.

He told himself to withdraw.

But she took his blunt tip in her mouth again and this time—
Christ!—this
time she increased her tempo to a maddening pace. He could feel the jolt from his balls that signalled his climax and he jerked backward. She hung on to him, followed him. So when he groaned and she didn’t move, he wondered, as he let himself helplessly pulse between her warm willing lips, if she’d known what she was doing and if he’d pay some kind of price for a service she never intended.

He swallowed hard as he felt the last of his cum spurt into her. Then he heard her swallow too.

His hands caressed her scalp. “Honey, Jess.” He didn’t know what to say. All the other times he’d had this done for him, he’d known the woman knew what she was doing, where things were going.

Jess lifted her head and searched his eyes. Hers were bright and he feared it was because of tears.

He raised her, two hands under her arms, and cuddled her close. His lips on her nape, he pressed his hands into the muscles of her back and lifted her ass cheeks to press her whole body against him.

She pulled back in his arms and cupped his cheeks. “Thank you. I always wanted to do that.”

Again, he was speechless. He wouldn’t lead her into a discussion of what her love life was like with his brother. Too much information in this case was a bad thing. And he certainly did not want to know if she had ever tried it before she got married—or after she became a widow. So he just stared at her, stupidly.

But she said, “Oh, Trey,” grinned and kissed him, and suddenly she was a sprite who hugged him and rubbed her nose against his.