Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

She yawned and admitted, “I’m absolutely whupped. You wore me out. I cannot keep my eyes open, Bran.”

He scooped her up and held her to his chest.

“What are you—”

“Ssh. It’s all right. I’ve got you.”

He carried her to his bedroom and set her on his bed. She sighed as he pulled the comforter under her chin and kissed her brow.

“Rest. Need anything before I hit the shower?”

A sitz bath. He probably wouldn’t know what that was. If he did, mentioning it would make him feel guilty, so she merely said, “No.”

She drooled over his perfectly muscled butt as he walked to the door. He stopped and sent a smoldering look over his shoulder. “Still think I’m gonna keep this vanilla?”

Harper managed a laugh. “Definitely not.” Then she closed her eyes and drifted off.

Chapter Fourteen

Over the next couple of weeks, Bran proved to Harper just how far from vanilla sex he could steer her.

She flashed back to the night he’d bound her arms behind her back with rope and propped up her lower torso, keeping her feet flat on the mattress. He’d sucked her ni**les and fingered her clit until she came. Twice. Then he’d just . . . taken her. Repeatedly. His way. With no thought to her pleasure, just to his own. Bran had become wild, not unlike a male animal in rut. He’d wedged himself between her knees. His fingers clutched her with such tenacity as he’d hammered into her that he left finger-shaped bruises on her thighs. At the moment he reached release, he’d pulled out and ejaculated all over her br**sts.

Harper loved that he’d marked her in such a primitive manner. Then he used his seed as a lubricant and slid his dick in the valley of her cle**age. He held her br**sts so close together that her ni**les nearly touched. His rapt face as he watched his c**k disappearing between her fleshy globes was heady stuff. It turned her on listening to his labored breaths as he took his pleasure. Made her crazy with lust to see the sweat trickling down the corded muscles in his neck. A tiny orgasm throbbed when he pumped his hips faster and looked into her eyes with such admiration. A sense of power built. She could make this gruff man lose complete control. But she knew he’d never take her past the point where he compromised her trust.

That’s when she’d known this wasn’t just sex. She could love this multifaceted man. Love him with everything she had. And she ached because she would have him for only a little while longer.

Over the next few days they’d gorged themselves, eager to experience every kinky fantasy.

One afternoon he’d shown her the carnal delights of sixtynine, with her head hanging off the edge of the bed and her legs in straddle splits. In that position he could shove his c**k so far down her throat she couldn’t taste him when he came. Also in that particular position, he could burrow his lightning-fast tongue so deep into her pu**y that she swore she felt the tip of it tickling her uterus.

Then there was the morning he tied her spread-eagle to his brass bed headboard and footboard, taking a full hour to pound into her ass, while he used vibrating objects on her clit. Who knew the stem portion of an old electric toothbrush, the backside of his electric shaver, and the mini massager he claimed he actually used for sore leg muscles could be turned into impromptu sex toys? He’d made her come five times.

Although she loved every kinky, fun, raunchy sexual scenario Bran suggested, or enforced, she equally loved hanging out with him after they put their clothes back on. He hadn’t balked when she’d cooked for him a few times. She’d watched him tie flies—funky ones, ugly ones, beautiful ones. He truly had a gift.

When she asked him about it, he clammed up. At her assurance that she didn’t consider him a dork, he relaxed and almost shyly shared that artistic part of himself. He’d even promised to take her fishing—after they laughed about him being such a jerk the first time they’d met at the fishing hole. His sheepish confession that his rude behavior was because she’d intimidated him came as such a sweet surprise from the always confident cattleman that she’d almost melted into a puddle right then and there.

His honesty allowed Harper to open up as well. Telling him her fears about never getting a chance to pursue her dream career. How being the responsible one in her family had made her feel and act much older than her twenty-four years. He didn’t offer advice. He just listened. Listened and held her, made love to her, treated her like she mattered.

From that point on, their relationship changed, evolving into something . . . more than either of them expected. But Harper wasn’t entirely convinced that the short-term nature of it didn’t inflate the significance of these feelings.

Or maybe she was just lying to herself so it’d be easier to bear the separation from Bran when she left.

They finished chores early the following Friday so Bran could attend an auction outside of Rawlins. When Harper confessed that she’d never been to an auction, he convinced her to come along. They loaded up the trailer and took off.

Thankfully this wasn’t a liquidation auction used to pay off a banker’s debt while the poor family stood around in misery, watching as their worldly possessions sold for pennies on the dollar. The descendants of this estate were eager to unload equipment and household goods, as well as the small acreage. Bran toyed with the idea of buying the land and holding it for Kyle, since it was close by and it was the type of place Kyle had been searching for. But Kyle’s curiosity was second only to his pride, and he would demand to know how Bran had scrounged up that kind of cash on such short notice. So Bran discarded the idea. At this point, admitting to his friends that he could write a check for the entire amount and it wouldn’t affect his financial situation at all would likely piss them off. After all the years of friendship, they’d think he didn’t trust them.