Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

“Okay, then. But I don’t want you to hold back. I wanna feel you spill in my mouth.”

He stroked her cheek. “That’ll happen sooner than you might think.”

“Good. And I want to hear you say my name, Devin. Mine. Shout it, groan it or whisper it, but in that moment when you let go, I want you to remember who got you there.”

There was a glimpse of her sexual ego he hadn’t seen before. “Anything you want.”

Devin thought she might tease, drag this out longer, but she kept her eyes on his as she parted her lips and engulfed his c**k in one greedy gulp.

“Fuck.”

He kept his hands on her head, not to direct her but to hold her hair back so he could watch her face.

That wet mouth worked him. And worked him. Shallow. Deep. He had one warning shot between his brain and his balls and then zing. He started to come. His pulse was thundering through his body louder than the waves crashing on the beach.

She looked up as the first spurt hit the back of her tongue.

He choked out, “Liberty,” and she clamped down on his cock, sucking in time to every pulse, until she’d milked him dry.

As he fought to remember how to breathe, she tilted her head, locking their gazes as she slowly released him. She placed a soft kiss on the tip of his c**k and grinned when that action caused it to jerk closer to her mouth. She sat back on her haunches. “So that didn’t suck?”

Devin shook his head. Maybe his brain wasn’t running on all cylinders, but that was an odd response from her. “Not at all. I’m still feeling the aftereffects.”

“That’s the first time you’ve let me at your dick for more than thirty seconds. I thought I might’ve done something you didn’t like.”

“God, no.” He reached for her hand. “I never meant to give you that impression.”

Of course Liberty noticed that wasn’t really an explanation. He’d tell her why he’d held back on that—just not now. “So how about you hop up here and sit on my face?”

“Tempting, but I’ll take a rain check.”

Then he hauled her on top of him and rolled them both down to the ground, his lips sliding over hers until she opened her mouth to accept his kiss. He wanted to taste himself on her tongue. He loved the way she could match his mood, knowing exactly what response he needed from her. The kiss calmed him.

“Are you getting cold with your pants down around your ankles?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think I’ve got sand in my ass crack too.”

She pushed up. “Poor baby. There wasn’t any sand on your cock. I licked it completely clean.”

“Trust me, I know.” Devin stood to pull up his shorts. “You wanna walk on the beach before we leave?”

“Nah. I’m good. This was great.” She stepped into his arms and hugged him. “Really great. And just what I needed. Thank you.”

“It was what I needed too.” He pressed his lips against the top of her head, breathing in the salty air and the vanilla scent of her shampoo. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so hopeful. Liberty had to know that the connection between them wouldn’t be this strong if it was only temporary. He believed fate had sent her his way for a reason besides protecting his ass.

They shook out the sand and rolled up the sleeping bag. When they reached the car, Devin said, “Don’t suppose you’ll let me drive?”

“Nope. And be warned; I’m gonna push this bitch to see what she’ll do.”

With the warm wind blowing and Liberty singing softly to the pop tunes on the radio, Devin dozed off. He came to when they hit the lights of Houston and the always crazy Houston traffic. He squinted at the clock. “Holy hell, woman. How fast did you drive?”

“A little over the speed limit.”

“So without coming across as a backseat driver, you remember how to get to the event center?”

“I think so. If you see me taking a wrong turn, let me know.”

When they pulled into the back entrance of the parking lot and he saw all the cop cars, he figured they must’ve taken a wrong turn someplace. But sure enough, the arena was right ahead of them.

“What the hell?” Liberty said.

That’s when he realized the activity was centered on his tour bus and his stomach dropped.

She threw the car in park by the police barricade. Then she looked at him, her face a blank mask, her entire body on full alert. There was no sign of the woman he’d spent the last five hours with.

“What do you think happened?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. You stay here. I mean it, Devin. Don’t you leave this f**king car.”

Devin gave her his back and opened the door to get out. He kept his tone even when she started threatening him. He cut her off with “Do you really think me sitting in a car by myself outside the line of police protection or out of your sight is really the safest place for me to be?”

“Fuck.” She inhaled and exhaled slowly. “You stay by me, right by me.”

“Fine. I get it. Let’s go see what happened.”

They reached the end of the barricades and were surrounded.

“Who are you? I need to see some ID now!” a cop, pointing a gun at them, barked.

“I’m Devin McClain. This is my personal assistant, Liberty Masterson. Crash Cavanaugh is my tour manager and he can verify who I am.”

Thirty seconds later Crash stomped over. “Where the f**k have you been? Jesus Christ. We’ve been tryin’ to get ahold of you for damn near an hour!”