Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

At first he’d been tempted to buy buy buy. A brand-new truck with all the bells and whistles. A fast foreign sports car. Fancy new duds. He’d imagined how differently all the women in Muddy Gap would look at him. The pretty ones who’d never given him the time of day, preferring to flirt with Hank, Kyle, Fletch, Devin, Ike, or Braxton. Hell, even bashful Eli had more chicks hitting on him than Bran Turner did. As a guy aware of his level of attractiveness to the opposite sex, Bran knew he wasn’t butt ugly, yet he also knew he hadn’t been blessed with the same head-turning good looks as his buddies. So his way of thinking upon learning about his cash windfall? Money was the great equalizer in the dating arena and everywhere else.

But a funny thing happened with his intent to become a rich braggart flashing a wad of bills—he’d realized he’d done nothing to earn the money. His inheritance had been entrusted to him; he would be a fool to blow the legacy on unimportant stuff like custom-made boots and attempts to buy a girlfriend.

Not even Bran’s closest friends knew what he was worth. He’d taken a chunk of the money and invested it in the stock market and bought more livestock. Even now he spent only the money he paid to himself as a salary and he lived way below his means.

Way below. And if his low-key lifestyle didn’t scare the ladies off, the fact that he resided in a cheap, cramped trailer usually did the trick. The assumptions made about him were amusing and he hadn’t bothered to try to change them.

In five years, he’d doubled his profit from his expanded cattle operation—despite Les’s continual arguments that Bran was always doing something wrong. Now Bran was once again at a crossroads, wondering if he should increase the size of the herd or let it ride another couple of years.

“Are you okay?”

Bran snapped back to the present with the beautiful Harper draped across his chest. Naked. “I don’t know why we’re talkin’ when you ain’t wearing any clothes.” He rolled, pinning her beneath him, grinning at her surprised “Eep!”

She snaked her arms around his lower back and squeezed his butt as they kissed. And kissed. His libido, which had dropped to idle, roared back to life.

His c**k slapped his belly when he retreated to sit in the middle of the bed, legs outstretched, facing the headboard. He held out his hand. “C’mere.”

Harper crawled toward him like a jungle cat.

“Sit on my lap.”

A curious expression appeared on her face as she placed a knee on each side of his hips. “Like this?”

“Perfect. Now offer me those beautiful tits, Harper.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. She slid her hands up her torso and cupped the pale flesh, pushing the mounds together before selecting the right one.

Bran groaned, leaning forward to lick the proffered tip. The nipple wasn’t completely hard and he lapped a wide circle around it. With each swipe of his wet tongue, the circle became smaller and smaller until his tongue constantly flickered across the tight peak.

He glanced up to see Harper peering at him, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.

“You like that?”

She nodded.

“Then offer me the other one.”

The little vixen turned it into a tease, dropping her hands to drag her fingers sensuously back up her flat belly. She rubbed the centers of her palms over her ni**les. Then she cupped her left breast, angling her shoulders to offer it to him.

Two could tease. Bran licked, sucked, and bit every inch of her tits until she whimpered. Until he felt her thighs clenching against his. Until he smelled the sweet cream drifting from between her trembling legs.

Enough.

Bran rolled and Harper was on her back. Then he rolled her again and she was on her belly. He hiked her hips up, primal need beating in his chest as he held her, spread her, and impaled her.

Harper gasped into the mattress, turned her head and said, “Do it again.”

He plowed into her, so insanely hot by the sight of her gorgeous ass clutched in his hands and his c**k disappearing into her pu**y that he might actually lose his mind with lust.

Her arms were stretched out above her head. She pushed her hips back, meeting his rhythm, emitting a soft groan every time he filled her. So he filled her as fast as he could, as many times as he could, over and over, pulling out completely but never pausing between thrusts.

Shit. He was gonna blow. On his next withdrawal, he grabbed the base of his shaft and slid it along her slit, letting the rim of the c**k head glide over her clit.

“Bran!”

“I’ve gotcha, baby. Can you come for me like this?”

“If you go faster, but with shorter strokes right—omigod! Right there. Just like that. Don’t stop—oh, please, don’t stop.”

He gritted his teeth and kept rubbing the tip of his dick up the rise of her pubic mound, over that pulsing hot spot. When Harper wailed, he felt the contraction against his c**k head like little sucking kisses.

Hold on. Sweet f**king Jesus. Don’t stop before she’s done.

When Harper’s pelvis sagged, he slid back to the mouth of her sex and unleashed his need for release.

Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. By the tenth stroke, he was balls deep, coming inside her—body rigid, head spinning, eyes crossed and toes curled kind of coming. When the last pulse blasted out of his dick, he felt so f**king exhilarated that he laughed. Then he layered his sweat-covered chest over her sweat-covered back and scattered kisses across her shoulders, tasting the salt on her skin. “You all right?”