Unbroken: Country Fever, Book 3 (10 page)

His erection dug into her ass, and once in a while, he rocked upward. Through the barrier of their jeans—his still damp—she imagined she could feel every ridge of his cock. She wanted it inside her. During their threesome, he hadn’t actually filled her with his shaft. Now she couldn’t wait to get to that dirty little part of their game.

“Fuck, you make me want you.” He gulped the mint and crunched it up. When he kissed her, the strong flavor drowned her.

Wild with want, she kissed and nipped at his lips and tongue. She knocked off his hat and dug her hands into his hair, scraping his shorn scalp with her short nails while kissing him with abandon.

He found a slit of skin between her jeans and top and trailed hot fingers over it. Her pussy squeezed hard and juices flooded her thong.

Running his hand under her shirt and up her ribs, he plucked at her bra cup. She shifted, bringing the steering wheel against her side hard. She grunted.

“Times like this I wish I had a big ole SUV.”

“You’ve got a bed.”

“Yeah, and a blanket.” He popped the door and eased her out onto her feet. Then he reached behind the seat and retrieved a red plaid blanket.

“I thought you said you haven’t gone parking in a decade.” She shivered at the sight of his distended jeans.

“Haven’t. But anyone with common sense in these parts carries blankets, water and flashlights in case you’re stranded.” He climbed out and plucked her off her feet. She squealed as he lifted her up to the height of his chest and tipped her over the side of the truck into the bed.

In a second, he launched over the side too and had the blanket unrolled.

Their gazes clung. “Come here, darlin’.” He hooked an arm around her spine and drew her upward to meet his mouth. She wrapped her calves around his back and bucked. Doing the old bump and grind. But for some reason, this felt like so much more.

She burned to touch him. Pinching the cloth between his shoulder blades, she yanked off his shirt. He drew hers overhead as well. The first kiss of their bare bodies raised all the hair on her skin.

Christian skidded a broad hand down her side. “I’ll warm you. Here.” He sucked on her neck. “And here.” Through the cloth of her bra, he sucked her nipple into his mouth. The wet cloth conformed to her shape. When he grazed her nipple with his teeth, she could stand no more.

She worked frantically at his fly. The thick length of his cock distended his boxer briefs. Running her fingers up his shaft, she found a wet circle at the head.

“Christ,” he said through gritted teeth. “Keep doing that and I won’t last.”

“I’ve barely touched you,” she whispered against his ear.

He turned his mouth against hers and said, “You don’t have to do much to make me want you, darlin’.”

With that, he attacked her boots and jeans. The panties and bra came off last, all lying in a heap in the corner of the truck bed. She watched as he kicked off his own boots and jeans. Finally, she was properly able to trace the outline of his cock in his boxers.

She ran a fingertip up the underside to the swollen head.

He sucked in a harsh breath.

Prodding the flared head, she stared into his eyes.

Christian grabbed her wrist roughly and pinned it to the blanket. “Enough.” He leaned in and placed nipping bites on her lips, her breasts, belly. When she could breathe again, she found he’d wriggled out of his boxer briefs.

His shaft rose high and proud from a nest of curls. She wet her lips.

“Tell me what you want.” He reached into the pocket of his discarded jeans for his wallet. He flipped it open and located that circle she’d noticed earlier.

She curled her fingers around the base of his shaft, angling the head toward her mouth. “This. I loved sucking you.”

“Jeezus,” he breathed. He fell still, every chiseled ridge of his abdomen standing out as she took him into her mouth.

She sucked him in and kept going until the spongy tip met the back of her throat.

He bucked once, head thrown back, cords on his neck straining. Then just as swiftly, he pulled out. In a jerky movement, he had a condom in place and was poised at the quick of her.

Gazing up at his outline silhouetted against the big sky, she wondered what Tucker would think of this.

But then Christian hitched her leg around him and filled her in one solid thrust. They rocked together, arms tight around each other, squeezing, bringing the other closer and closer. Her inner walls contracted around his cock.

“God, it’s going to be…over…too soon,” he ground out.

She stroked his chest, ran a finger around the dark circle of his nipple. “Be nice to watch the sunrise here with you.”

His white teeth flashed as he grinned. Drove deep. Ground his cock against her g-spot. She cried out as spasms started in her core.

Heat spread rapidly, claiming her control. She grabbed onto him and jerked her hips. A guttural growl erupted from his chest. He stared down at her unblinkingly as he plunged once…twice.

Tremors rushed her. Her pussy clamped down on his shaft just as he began to spurt. The warmth of his release sent her higher.

As the final shudders racked her body, she buried her face against his neck and stared at the stars glittering on the velvet backdrop of the sky. Where was Tucker at this moment? A big part of her was out there with him.

But a part she hadn’t thought she had to give now lay warm and safe in the ring of Christian’s arms.

Tucker knuckled the grit out of his eyes and turned toward the truck stop. After driving for two solid days and nights, his back muscles were screaming. This rest stop boasted a hotel as well as the area’s “meanest ham steak”.

When he climbed out of his truck, pain sliced up his leg from his knee. As a kid, he’d taken a bad fall from a horse and cracked the patella. It had healed on its own, but when he wasn’t as active, he felt a twinge or two.

Or three, in this case.

Not to mention the twinges in his heart. For Heather, Claire, even Christian. Hell, right now, he was so homesick that if he laid eyes on Boomerang, he’d plant a big fat kiss right on the alpaca’s crooked mouth.

As he approached the restaurant, he caught sight of his reflection. Disheveled. Wrinkled shirt, crumpled hat brim. And he could smell himself. Not good.

Veering from the restaurant, he headed for the hotel. A nice shower, a meal, then sleep. Right now, he didn’t want anything more than the basics in life.

Except Heather.

While he signed in to his room, he played and replayed the last moments with her family. When they’d rejected him, he’d lost a bit of his soul. His identity had taken a hit. If he was no longer part of the Lander crew, who was he? Where did he fucking belong?

His Uncle Leon and Dale and Darcy were far from a supportive family. In the past couple of years since Heather’s passing, Tucker had only one consistent person in his life besides the Landers—Christian.

And he’d probably fucked up that relationship forever. Leaving him to run Tucker’s ranch, when he knew nothing of animals? Hell, it was drawing near the harvest season too.

Tucker couldn’t stay away indefinitely, yet that was exactly what he wanted to do. Going back meant he’d have to face a life without Heather, her family…damn, even knowing her wedding gown still hung on the peg in her bedroom had given him comfort.

He tossed the few belongings he always kept in the truck—a change of clothes—onto the king-sized coverlet, too aware of the last time he’d been in bed.

With Christian and Claire.

Sweet Claire with the round limbs and honey lips. Giving her a night of passion was more than she deserved. He’d been shocked at how Christian had held himself in check with her, not touching her until Tucker gave him the go-ahead. Out of respect for Tucker? Or was there another reason?

Tucker cranked on the hot water in the shower and stripped out of his sweaty clothes. When he stepped under the spray, visions of his last shower struck him fully in the gut.

“Fuck.” He couldn’t even get away from Claire here. She was going to be his goddamn end. Giving himself again was out of the question. But hadn’t he done just that when he dragged her into his life?

Holding back with her was as impossible as with Heather.

He soaped himself, washed it all off and got the hell out of the shower.

The ham steak was calling to him.

But when he got to the restaurant, they were out of ham steak. And the waitress wore a dress not unlike Claire’s waitress uniform.

Christ, what was he going to do?

Part of him yearned to move along down the highway. Look for a new place to dig in. His roots were miles away, back at the ranch with his horses and his green fields—with Claire and Christian.

As he forked a bite of chicken and dumplings into his mouth, he turned away from any idea of going home yet. His head was a mess, and he had to get it screwed on straight before confronting his ghosts and one little curly-haired angel.

He had no idea what to do with the emotions coursing through him for Claire. She deserved much better than a broken-down cowboy who was still in love with his dead fiancée.

She deserves someone like Christian.

Pain plucked at his heartstrings. What if he returned to find that Claire and Christian had hooked up? Christian was the perfect no-baggage solution to Claire’s needs. And they
had
enjoyed each other in bed.

Shaking himself, Tucker set aside his fork and tossed a few bills on the table.

“Was there something wrong with your chicken and biscuits?” the waitress asked.

“No, it was fine.”
There’s something wrong with me.

As he walked back to the motel, he couldn’t stop the freight train of his thoughts from barreling out of control. If he wanted Claire, claiming her would be easy enough. She was just waiting for him. But he wasn’t the kind of guy to switch directions so easily. Once his sights were set on a goal, he rushed at it with all speed. Trouble was, he’d been running toward Heather forever. He didn’t know how to stop.

Chapter Five

“Davis, heads up!”

Christian braced his forearms on the man-sized hole he’d just dug to lay pipe in and popped his head over the rim. He spotted the excavator rolling toward him and his fellow road workers scattering out of its way.

Locking his muscles, Christian hoisted himself, throwing his upper body across the ground. Then he scrambled up and out of the way.

As he stood at the roadside, covered in crumbles of earth, he watched the equipment straddle the hole and continue on down the road.

He started back to his hole—joining pipes a solid goal in his mind—when a horn blast made him look up.

Traffic was backed up for half a mile on this stretch of single-lane construction, but there weren’t so many cars that he didn’t immediately pick out the old, faded blue one that belonged to Claire’s Aunt Letty.

A grin stretched over his face so far, his cheeks ached. Heat bloomed in his stomach and began a heavy throb in his groin.

Jogging across the road to her, he ducked to smile through her open window.

“Hey, asphalt cowboy. You feeling that barn work this morning as much as I am?” Her hair was pulled back today in a messy knot, the curls a riot of dark springs.

“Yessum.” He tipped his hard hat into his hands and cradled it before him. This morning, they’d met in the barn at first light in order to muck out as many stalls as possible before he had to come to work.

She chewed on her lower lip then released it with agonizing slowness. He watched each plump bit emerge from her white teeth, his heart a wild staccato. His gaze locked onto the wetness on that luscious, pink lip.

“You got to go back to bed?” He’d tucked her exhausted form into her car after their hard work and sent her home, hoping she’d crawl back into bed before her own shift at the diner. Only one of them was going to be completely dead on their feet, if he had his way.

“Nah. I ended up eating a big breakfast Letty cooked me and helping her around the house.”

Golden sun danced over her face and illuminated one eye. For an instant, his breath caught. He studied the depths of that dark iris and each amber ray extending from the fathomless pupil.

She blinked and shifted so she was in his shadow. “Well, cowboy, the line’s moving. I’ve gotta roll along now.”

He reached in and squeezed her hand. They hadn’t made love since that night in the truck, but there was nothing uneasy about their relationship. He looked forward to getting out of bed before dawn every day just to see her in tight jeans and mud boots, sleeves rolled to the elbow as she shoveled alongside him.

“See you for the evening watering.” He tapped her door twice, and she let off the brake, inching forward even as her gaze clung to his.

When she had to twist her head to continue to look at him, she finally faced the road and drove off.

Christian shoved his hat onto his head and trotted toward his hole again. Distracted, this time. God, that prim white collar of her uniform dress against her throat roused images of him nudging it down with his jaw to gain access to her savory skin.