Saddled and Spurred (Blacktop Cowboys 2)

Either way would relieve him. But he certainly preferred one way over the other.

“Why are you mad at me?” she asked.

He glowered. “I’m not mad.”

“Okay. Then what did I do wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“Then why are you being—”

“I’m not bein’ anything. Go home, Harper. We’re done.”

“Since when? You told me we had a pile to do today and you’re sending me home?”

“Yep.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Tough shit. You’re off the clock.”

Yeah. Be an ass**le to her. That’ll get her to leave.

Harper shifted her stance. Her feet scuffled against the dirt floor. The sounds should’ve indicated she’d left. But Bran knew she was still there. Waiting. Why in the hell was he attuned to her every breath? He squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and counted to twenty as he sorted screws.

He was so busy counting and ignoring his goddamn erection that he didn’t feel her tugging on his sleeve until she was right in front of him.

Sweet Jesus. She was f**king breathtaking. Those brandy-colored eyes set in an angelic face. Her blond hair looked like hell, though, and that only increased her appeal.

Any continued resistance fled.

Bran grabbed the lapels of her coat and hauled her to her toes for a ravenous kiss. A wet, hot, tongue-thrusting explosion of passion as he inhaled her. Losing his mind in her softness, her sweetness, her fire. He kept changing the slant of his mouth over hers, taking the kiss deeper, giving her every ounce of himself as he took every bit of her he could get.

Harper slid her damp lips down and lightly sank her teeth into his chin. Bran peered at her with his heavy-lidded gaze. “What?”

“Am I really off the clock, boss?”

He hated it when she called him boss. She knew that. He growled, “I said you were, didn’t I?”

“Good. Then I know you’re not paying me to do this.” Harper grabbed the coat he’d whipped onto the ground and fell to her knees on it. “Unbuckle your belt and drop your pants, Bran.”

Didn’t have to ask him twice.

He kept his eyes trained on her face as she watched his movements. Avidly. When she licked her full lips as he lowered the zipper, he couldn’t withhold a ripple of anticipation.

Harper helped him tug his jeans and boxers down to his knees.

“What—”

She smacked him on the thigh. Hard. “No talking.”

Fuck. That little bit of bossiness and tiny spark of pain was a turn-on.

She connected her gaze to his and placed her hands on his bared thighs, slowly sliding the leather gloves up. The closer her mouth got to his cock, the more it jerked for her attention. She released a throaty chuckle and let her hot breath drift over the c**k head. She rubbed the side of her face on his shaft, and he hissed in a breath at the coolness of her cheek on the hottest, most swollen part of him. Her hands circled his hips and she licked straight up the bulging vein from the root to the tip.

Bran’s mouth went desert dry. The woman intended to torture him.

Would he let her? Since he’d made no bones about the fact that he preferred to be in charge?

Yes. He’d let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Although she was always up for any fun and games he suggested, this was the first time she’d taken the initiative.

When her warm, wet mouth enclosed his cock, he lost any rational thought at all.

She chuckled again and the vibration zipped up his spine, increasing that buzz of need building inside his groin.

Bran loved the scrape of her teeth against his shaft. He loved how the long strands of her baby-soft hair tickled his thighs as her head bobbed. He loved the velvety sensation of her tongue lapping every inch. He loved the power of her cheek muscles as she sucked lightly, then forcefully. He loved how she pulled back to flick just the very tip of her tongue beneath the c**k head. He really loved the little humming moans she made as she blew him to heaven.

It took every ounce of his control not to clamp his hands on her head and f**k that sassy mouth hard and deep to reach the tipping point.

Harper’s hands went from gripping his hipbones back down the tops of his thighs. Her left hand rested on his right quad, which was almost as rigid as his dick. Then her right hand slipped down the inside of his left thigh to his balls.

The coarse material of her glove rubbing on that sensitive area startled him. “Holy f**kin’ shit.”

She didn’t react beyond keeping the rhythm maddeningly precise.

Slow, fast, fast. Slow, fast, fast.

The contrast of the rough leather stroking his sac and the smooth, wet heat of her mouth sliding up and down his length zapped every nerve receptor in his body with pure pleasure. He groaned. The need for release was equally balanced against his desire for her to never ever stop. He managed a hoarse “Jesus. You’re killin’ me here.”

No verbal response, just another amused chuckle. She stroked and fondled his balls, allowing her finger to slide back to circle his anus as she suckled the head of his cock.

His body was strung tight. Fists and jaw clenched. His balls were drawn up, ready to blow.

Harper kept a solid hold on the reins, knowing the exact moment to let go. She sucked harder and moved faster, bringing her right hand to the root and stroking up his shaft as her slippery, suctioning mouth slid down to meet her fingers.

No f**king way could he hold back.

With a sound akin to a roar, Bran wrapped his fingers around her jaw, forcing her mouth to open wider. He pumped his hips twice and stilled as each hot shot jetted out of his dick.