Rough Country (Tannen Boys 3)

But possibly the start of something amazing for my music.

“It’s fine. I’ll fly out there, meet with these folks, do their dog and pony show, and be back on Tuesday. You gonna be okay without me?”

She will be. I’m sure of it. However, I’m not at all sure that I’ll be okay without her. I think my weekend is going to be filled with thoughts of ‘what’s Willow doing right now?’ and obsessively refreshing her blog like a fucking creeper. I already told the family to come by Hank’s as much as possible to check on her. They gave me shit for it, but they’ll do it.

She laughs sweetly. “Me? I’ll be working my butt off slinging drinks and answering all sorts of nosy questions about you this weekend. I’m more worried you’re going to go out there and be blinded by those big city lights and not come back to me. I’ve seen how pretty they can be.”

Humor is woven through her words, but I can sense a true fear deep inside. I squeeze her tight, laying a kiss to her forehead, and promise, “There is nothing and no one that could ever make me stay away from you. I love you, Willow.”

Her cheek lifts against my chest, letting me know she’s smiling again. I did that. I make her happy, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep on doing that time and time again.

“I love you too,” she whispers into my pec right before she returns the kiss, her lips against the skin right over my heart.

Tattoo my heart with your kiss. It’s already whispering your name with every beat.

“Come here, sweetheart.” I roll to my back, pulling her on top of me. Her knees bend, dipping into the mattress on either side of my hips. “Can you take me again?”

Honestly, I want her sore. Not because I want her to feel pain, but because I want her to remember me with every step she takes while I’m away from her. I want her to feel the void where I belong inside her body, knowing that I’ll fill it as soon as I get back.

She bites her lip, nodding as her hips already sway back and forth along my hardening length, spreading her juices over me. My tip teases along her entrance, and I’m fighting every urge to slam into her. I want to feel her with nothing between us for a moment. No condom, no barriers, no walls, just raw and real, allowing me to fully claim her body and mark it with my cum.

Even the thought puts me on the edge in an instant. “Shit. Condom.”

“I’m on birth control,” she whispers.

My eyes move from where we’re so close to joining up to her eyes. Those gray mood rings are glittering, emotions swirling there that I can’t name. I don’t want to try right now, but later, I’ll picture this moment as though it’s one of Willow’s photographs and try to put labels on everything I see, everything I feel.

“You sure?”

In answer, she lifts her hips and I line up with her pussy. Holding around her hips, I guide her down my shaft in one hard, quick thrust.

“Oh!” Her voice is high, broken at the end as a shiver runs through her body.

“Fuck.” I’m surrounded by absolute heaven—tight, wet, hot bliss.

Her nails dig into my chest for purchase, and I arch into them, wanting that sharp bite of her mark on my skin. I use her hips, pushing and pulling her faster and harder.

This is not gentle lovemaking. And though it’s rough and primal, it’s not fucking, either. This is claiming, me of her and her of me. Though we’ll be apart for a few days, she’s mine and I’m hers. This trip doesn’t change that. Hell, nothing would change that.

“Take it, sweetheart. Take my cock and take my cum. Tell me you want it,” I demand.

She gasps at my dirty talk, still shocked every time, but I can feel what it does to her. The filthier I talk, the wetter she gets. She comes near-instantly when I make her say things my sweet girl would never say on her own.

“I want it.” She’s holding back, and I give her a punishing stroke. Her head falls back, exposing her neck as her mouth falls open. “I want . . . your cum. God, I want to feel it, Bobby.”

I grunt, her words sending me over the edge. My whole body tenses, and an electric jolt shoots from my spine through my cock as I spill inside her. Bare for the first time. The thought of painting her with my cum is powerfully heady and so fucking sexy. But I need her to come too.

Staying inside, I swipe a thumb across her clit, fast and soft like she loves it and tell her, “You feel so good, Willow. Let me feel you come.”