Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders 6)

“Mmm. Can you stay and punish me some more since I tricked you?”

“No.” He kissed the tattoo between her shoulder blades and tucked the covers under her chin.

“Next time, if you’re missin’ me just ask me to come over, okay? Because if it happens again, I will spank your ass good and red for pickin’ a fight. Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Seventeen

Lovers Week Three

“Oh yeah, baby, right there.”

“Colt, will you shut up?” India hissed.

“Can’t. It feels too goddamn good.”

“People are staring at us.”

“Let ’em. Harder.” He arched his neck. “Like that. Goddamn you’ve got magic fingers, Indy.”

“That’s it. I’m done.”

“No! Please. Don’t stop.”

India wrapped her hands around the shopping cart handle and pushed to the frozen food section.

Within thirty seconds Colt came up behind her, curling his hands and his body over hers. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t ever ask me to rub your neck in the grocery store again.”

“Why? It wasn’t like you had your hand on my dick.”

“I might as well have with the ‘oh baby’  p**n  noises you were grunting.”

He nipped her earlobe and licked the sting, brushing his lips to the center of her ear. “And to think I didn’t utter a sound last night when you gave me a handjob at the movies.”

“Colt—”

“It was hot as hell, havin’ your buttery fingers strokin’ my cock. I had to clench my ass cheeks together when your thumb rubbed the sweet spot below the head. I was so f**kin’ hard, India.

You did that to me. You do that to me.”

And she thought he’d lost his sweet-talkin’ ability. The man could make her wet and weak-kneed with just words.

He blew in her ear. “I think I behaved admirably by not shoutin’ out your name when I came all over your hand. I think I oughta be rewarded.”

“You were rewarded.”

“Hmm. Maybe I oughta reward you.”

“I’m listening.”

“You fulfilled one of my fantasies, so turnabout is fair play.

Tell me, sugar, what’s one of your unfulfilled fantasies?”

“The first one that pops to mind?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m with a man, who has a really big—”

“Indy,” he warned.

“Kitchen. A man who knows the difference between simmer and burn, a man who can whip and stir, steam and cream. A man who keeps his promises of heating things up.”

“I get it. I’ll teach you to cook. But you so aren’t getting any cock…tail shrimp tonight, if you waste all that dirty talk in the grocery store.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“That’s what I’m countin’ on.”

Three days later, India was cleaning up the kitchen at Colt’s house, when he shouted from the living room, “Indy, you okay?”

“Almost done. You need anything?”

“I’d take a soda if you’re offerin’.”

India wrapped tinfoil around the leftover pieces of her first chicken dinner and shoved the plate on the shelf in the refrigerator.

As she reached for a Diet Pepsi, she accidentally knocked over the can of whipped cream from the back.

Heh heh.

The laugh track from the TV echoed. She vigorously shook the can and kept it behind her back, hiding it behind his recliner after she entered the living room.

Colt glanced up and bestowed the wicked grin that was hers alone. Cheeky man.

India leaned over and set the soda on the end table. As she straightened up, he snagged the ends of the dishtowel draped around her neck and hauled her on his lap.

He swallowed her tiny shriek with a kiss heavy on seduction.

She found herself plastered to him as he lowered the recliner completely horizontal.

“Mmm,” he murmured against her throat, “much better.”

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want to mess around?” He brushed warm kisses across her lips. “Because I could kiss you for hours. Here,” he briefly let their lips connect, then nibbled a path to her ear, “and other places.”

“What other places?”

“Lemme think. Right here.” He opened his mouth where her neck curved into her shoulder and sucked until she whimpered.

“And here.” That agile tongue circled the hollow of her throat and rained wet kisses down to the top button of her shirt.

“Anywhere else?”

“Oh yeah.” His deft fingers began to unbutton her blouse. He didn’t say a word until the material flapped open to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra. He groaned and filled his hands with her br**sts. Squeezing, rasping his thumbs over the ni**les until they contracted into tight, aching points beneath the hoops.

Colt watched her face as he touched her. Gauging her reaction to better torture her next time. She let him think he was in charge, but she couldn’t stop a smirk from forming.

“Why the devious smile, India Blue?”

“No reason. I thought you were gonna show me all the places you’d like to kiss me and your mouth is nowhere near where I want it to be.”

“You’re so impatient.”

She slid his palms down her ribcage to her hips and shimmied closer, letting her bare br**sts sway in front of his lips. She eased back when his tongue flicked out to swipe at a hardened nipple. “Or maybe you need an incentive.”

Without waiting for his response, India leaned over and grabbed the can. She sat up and squirted a dollop of whipped cream on her left nipple.

Colt’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“Put your mouth on me, Colt. Lick me, suck me. Show me how you wanted to kiss me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The mechanism in the recliner went sproing as it snapped back into a chair.

Then he was upright with his lips pursed around her nipple, sucking off the sweet white stuff like a vacuum. Opening his mouth wider and wider until he seemed to suck her whole breast inside.

The cold spot from the whipped cream evaporated in his heated, hungry mouth. She arched into him, grinding into his cock, her blood pumping in cadence with him drawing her nipple in and out.

He snatched the can, tipped it upside down and sprayed a thick mound on her right nipple. This time he licked a tiny swath until just the pink tip poked out.