Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

“In more ways than one.”

“Meaning?”

“I’ve never swallowed before, but I’m betting that’ll change too.” Harper’s gaze swept him head to toe and she licked her lips before she stepped into the tub. “Coming, cowboy?”

“Not yet. But soon. Very, very soon.”

She laughed, a throaty, sexy, very . . . confident laugh, and Bran wondered if he’d been had.

Chapter Ten

The next morning was remarkably free of sexual tension. Almost to the point that Harper wondered if she’d imagined them lolling around in bed, in the shower, and then back in bed before she’d gone home.

The workday on the ranch started normally as once again they were back to sharing coffee and small talk. The bouts of silence in the truck cab weren’t weighted with awkwardness. So the fact that they’d both stuck to the “no messing around during working hours” rule was a relief.

Rather than head home after she finished chores, Harper tracked down all the empty feed buckets and stacked them outside the tack room in the big barn. She gathered the insulated coffee mugs she’d found scattered in various places. Sometimes Bran was seriously disorganized. He’d complained that all his coffee mugs had grown legs and run away. Washing dishes wasn’t part of her job, but she carried the armful into his kitchen and dropped them in the sink.

She’d poured herself a glass of water when the door opened and Bran sauntered into the trailer. He must not have expected to see her because he froze.

Her mouth had gone completely dry. She carefully set the glass on the counter behind her, never taking her eyes off him.

While they stared at one another, Bran removed his leather work gloves, finger by finger, and tossed them on the table. He unzipped his Carhartt coat and hung it on the peg by the door, never taking his eyes off her.

He epitomized sexy and commanding, standing before her in a frayed flannel shirt, faded Wranglers, and dirty work boots. Under those ratty clothes was a body that screamed perfection. A body forged from physical labor. Sinewy muscles. Rock-hard abs. Strong shoulders. Ripped chest. Delineated muscles earned the hard way. She’d mapped his masculine form with her hands. With her mouth.

Imagining her tongue tracing the dips and hollows of his naked form caused a puddle of drool to form on her tongue. She swallowed loudly and met his molten gaze again.

His big, rough hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

“Harper.”

One word.

That was all he said.

That was all he needed to say.

The next thing she knew, they’d collided in the middle of the room, just like in the movies. Kissing crazily. Hands roaming, bodies straining to get closer, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers. Feet shuffling to remove boots.

Never had she felt this intense burning need. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. A low hum overtook rational thought processes in her brain as the words more, more, more competed with now, now, now. Every part of her being that should’ve warned slow down, screamed speed up!

Her coat hit the floor.

Bran started backing her toward his bedroom. He broke their tongue-tangling kiss to lift her arms over her head and yank off her long johns shirt. Then his lips were back on hers in a sensual caress as he cupped her br**sts over the white satin material of her bra. His fingers found the front clasp and popped it open. He muttered, “Goddamn, I love your tits,” against the corner of her mouth.

Her back connected with the wall at the start of the hallway. Bran’s tongue followed the slope of her breast straight to her left nipple. Then to her right. His lips, his teeth, his tongue all worked together, driving her higher until she restlessly rubbed her thighs together, craving relief from the wet ache he’d created. Relief that only he could give her.

“Bran—”

His mouth ended her protest and his fingers made quick work of the snap and zipper on her jeans.

Harper followed his lead, reaching between them to undo his buckle. His hands got in the way of her hands and he pushed back away from her with a frustrated growl.

“You do yours, I’ll do mine.”

She shimmied out of her jeans in record time, but she didn’t beat him in the race to get naked. His fully erect c**k bounced against his abdomen, leaving a slick spot on the trail of dark hair. She looked up at him and the stark need reflecting back at her caused another spike in her pulse. She’d never had a man look at her like that. Ever. Not even all the times she’d paraded across the stage in a skimpy swimsuit.

Bran slammed his mouth to hers, stoking the fire inside her with breath-stealing kisses. His rough-skinned hands cupped her butt cheeks and he lifted her, using his body weight to hoist her against the paneled wall.

Her legs automatically circled his hips. She felt his c**k trapped between their bodies, hard and thick and eager. She reached down and guided the head, canting her pelvis, giving him easier access, giving herself over to him completely.

With one quick snap of his hips, Bran was buried to the root inside her.

Oh, that felt good. Full. Amazing.

“Hold on to me,” he rasped.

Harper wreathed her arms around his neck. Hard thrust after hard thrust should’ve sent her back slamming into the wall, but Bran held her protectively as he plunged in and out.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured against her temple. “So tight. So perfect.”

Her body trembled. The deep rumble of his voice seemed to be vibrating inside her skin.

He licked the shell of her ear, sending a strong shudder through her again. His rapid breathing teased the damp spot. “I could f**k you for hours.” His teeth tugged her earlobe, his warm mouth brushed the sensitive hollow below her ear. “And I will. But I’m too far gone to make it happen now.”