Spun Out

by Lorelei James

He pointedly looked at the clock. “Sorry to hurry you along, but it’s closin’ time for WWC. And I told Sergeant B I’d help her do some stuff in the back room for boot camp.”

  Oh, and Streeter was a smooth liar too.

  “Of course we wouldn’t want to keep you two from doing that all-important ‘stuff’ together,” Vivien said slyly. “Come on, Lilies.”

  “But . . . what about this surprise party you mentioned throwing for Harper? Where did we end up with that?”

  “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll all work out.” Tilda patted her hand. “And Bernice, who runs the Beauty Barn, said to tell you she’ll offer a fifteen percent discount if you come in for a restyle.”

  Wait. Was that a hint that she needed a new hairstyle?

  Streeter ushered them out. He flipped the sign and locked the door.

  But he kept his hands pressed to the glass and didn’t turn around immediately, giving her a nice long look at that fantastic cowboy ass encased in faded Wranglers. His shoulders heaved and she couldn’t tell if he was laughing.

  “Streeter? You okay?”

  “Fuck no.”

  Bailey skirted the counter in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

  He whirled around and slowly lifted his head.

  When her gaze caught his beneath the brim of his hat, she froze. His green eyes blazed with sexual heat, more intense than she’d ever seen from him.

  “From the moment you touched me last night, I haven’t been able to think about anything else except your hands on me. Your mouth on me. Your body on mine.”

  Her heart started to race. “Is that why you’re here?”

  “I’m here because I can’t go another goddamned hour without knowin’ if it’s the same for you.”

  “The same . . . meaning if I’m reliving every moment of us rolling around naked? If I press my hand to my mouth as if I can still feel your lips there? Then yes, it’s the same for me.”

  He made the sexiest growling noise. “Remember last night when you told me to tell you what I want?”

  “Yes.” Was he even aware that he’d started stalking her? She took two steps back.

  “I’m here to tell you what I want, Bailey.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to fuck you. Hard and fast.” Streeter closed the distance between them. “Now.”

  “Now?”

  “Right fuckin’ now.” He leaned in until their lips almost touched. “That thing that I said I needed to help you with? Is me getting another taste of you.” His mouth crashed down on hers.

  Oh yes please. I’ll give you a double helping of me any time you want.

  This man had no idea of the power he wielded with those demanding, gruff words.

  His kiss was hungry. Raw. He yanked his hat off and tossed it on the counter. Then his hands were on her ass, lifting her off the floor as he carried her into the back room.

  She levered herself up until she could wrap her legs around his waist.

  Streeter dodged the table and chairs and didn’t stop until he’d pressed her back against a wall. Then his mouth slid down her chin and he planted frantic, damp kisses on her throat. “Christ, woman. You smell so damn good.” He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled. “Like sugar and flowers. Makes me hard as fuck.”

  Bailey groaned, loving the way his words rumbled against her skin, especially the feel of the sexy scrape of his teeth and how he soothed the sting with little sucking kisses.

  He kept grinding his hips into her. Up and down. Side to side. Testing which way made her arch harder. Which way made her break the kiss and beg.

  Against her throat he panted, “No condoms, right?”

  “Right.”

  “You wet enough to take me?”

  “I’ve been wet since you flipped the damn Closed sign over on the door.”

  “Get these pants off.” He set her on her feet and shuffled back three steps.

  Bailey kicked her shoes away. Then she peeled her leggings off and stood before him in her black lace panties. As she hooked her fingers into the waistband, he uttered a gruff “Wait.”

  He untucked his shirt—the white shirt she’d had on earlier—and unbuckled his belt. Down went his zipper. Out came his cock. He stroked it as he moved in to crowd her against the wall. “Your eyes, baby, tell me everything I wanna know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That I ain’t gonna take the time to take my boots off. That I’m gonna drop my jeans, pull off those sexy panties and fuck you against that wall until you scream.”

  If she hadn’t been wet enough before, she sure was now.

  She said, “Do it,” and ditched her panties.

  His jeans fell to his knees. Then his hands were on her ass, hoisting her up.

  Bailey reached between them, guiding the head of his cock to her opening, tilting her pelvis as he slammed home.

  Streeter pressed his face into the curve of her neck and groaned, “I need to build up my stamina, but you feel so goddamned good that this ain’t gonna last long.”

  Gripping his hair, she jerked his head back, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Then kiss me while you fuck me. It’ll improve your multitasking skills.”

  “Always lookin’ for the silver lining, ain’t ya.” He captured her mouth in a slow seductive kiss—which was diametrically opposed to the purposefully hard strokes of his cock.

  And he hadn’t been kidding about being quick on the trigger.

  She’d just gotten into the rhythm of his breath and body, feeling herself starting to respond, when he ripped his mouth free from hers.

  He was a beautiful sight with his neck arched, his eyes squeezed shut, his full lips parted. She even loved that his big hands were kneading her ass cheeks to the same fast pulses of his cock as it emptied inside her.

  But she fought her disappointment it was over.

  And really . . . how could she complain when he had warned her it’d be fast?

  Plus, she’d never say anything that would dampen this emergence of his newfound sexuality.

  Before she could tell him it was all right that she hadn’t come, Streeter pulled out of her and returned her feet to the floor.

  The clank of his belt buckle was her only warning before he dropped to his knees, spread her pussy open with his thumbs and began to eat her out.

  The man didn’t care that he’d just come inside her. He fucked her with his mouth until she came with a loud gasping groan.

  Then he did it again, with his fingers and his mouth.

  Holy fucking shit. That might’ve been a record for her too, being that quick on the trigger.

  Twice.

  When the blood roaring in her head had abated, she glanced down at him, still on his knees and peppering soft kisses over her mound and across her thighs.

  Looking up at her, he grinned. “Not quite a scream, but good enough for me.”

  Bailey released the death grip she’d had on his hair. “That was . . .”

  Streeter rolled to his feet and soul-kissed her with such raw passion she was grateful for the wall behind her.

  He kissed a path to her ear. “I like the way we taste together.”

  “Me too.”

  His pants started buzzing. “That’s my phone. Hang on.”

  While he answered the call, she slipped the bottom half of her clothes on.

  Streeter had the phone balanced between his jaw and shoulder as he zipped up his pants and buckled his belt. “No, Deenie, that’s fine. I’ll meet you there in an hour. Yeah. Bye.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  He shoved his phone in his back pocket before he tucked in his shirt. “I gotta pick Olivia up early.”

  Perfect timing. “I should be heading out to Harper and Bran’s anyway.”

  “W
ill I see you later?”

  “Text me.”

  After another long kiss, he left.

  * * *

  Bailey exited her SUV at the Turner Ranch and saw that Bran had all three boys in the enclosed cab of the tractor, doing ranch stuff, but to her it looked like he was just driving in circles. After a quick wave, she sought out Harper, taking advantage of the fact they wouldn’t be interrupted for a little while.

  She found Harper sitting on the covered swing on the back deck.

  At least she thought it was her sister.

  Harper had pulled her messy blond hair into a high ponytail, and her shirt was off, leaving both breasts exposed. Her bare feet peeked out from beneath Christmas-themed pajama bottoms and Angel—looking decidedly milk-drunk—slept soundly on the cushion beside her.

  Harper held up her hand when she saw Bailey. “Better not come closer if the sight of my nipples is gonna bother you because I’m not putting that goddamned bra back on. My nipples are chafed and I’m airing them out.”

  Okay.

  “Bare titties don’t bother me. Need anything before I sit down?”

  “Yeah. A gin and tonic.”

  Was her sister serious right now?

  “And use the Bombay gin. It’s behind the cheap stuff in the liquor cabinet. Oh. And lots of limes.”

  She’d take that as a yes, Harper was serious.

  Bailey mixed two drinks and added a pitcher of ice water to the tray before she returned outside.

  She handed Harper a drink, took one for herself and eased onto the swing, trying not to wake the baby.

  They clinked their glasses together, muttered cheers and drank.

  “All right, Bails, out with it. Why are you here?”

  Bailey briefly put her head on Harper’s shoulder. “I hate fighting with you.”

  “Samesies, brat.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  And that was it. They were back to normal.

  Harper kept them swinging. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Does the name ‘Angel’ sound like a stripper’s name?”

  Talk about a random question. “I dunno. Maybe. Why?”

  “Bran overruled me on her name. I wanted to call her April. He said that was stupid since she was born in February.”

  “I sort of agree with Bran, sis.”

  “So I said, what about Avril?”

  “Lemme guess . . . the smart-ass man started singing ‘Sk8er Boi.’”

  “If you can call that off-tune warbling singing.” She sniffed. “I swear to god the man only wanted to name her that so he could call her ‘Angel baby.’”

  Bailey hid her smile behind her glass. “That is awful damn cute.”

  “I remember when he used to call me ‘Angel baby.’”

  “Then I can see your point.” She swirled the ice cubes in her glass. “Is everything all right between you and the fly-tyin’ super dad?”

  “As right as it can be with four kids constantly underfoot and sexy time limited to a quickie after the baby goes to sleep or before the boys wake up.” She sighed. “I miss spontaneous sex. I miss the tease and the surprise and being loud. I miss my sexy husband taking his sweet time to do dirty things to me.” Harper sent Bailey a sideways look. “TMI?”

  “Nope.”

  “And I’m tired of my nipples hurting and feeling like a one-person dairy buffet.”

  “So quit nursing. That won’t make you a horrible mother.” That title would belong to their mother—not that Bailey needed to remind her sister of the crap Mommy Whorest had pulled in the past. Not that she could use that secret moniker for their mother around her sister. “Admit that something’s gotta give, since you’re out here in broad daylight on a Sunday with your knockers blowing in the breeze.”

  Harper laughed. “I hate that you showed up looking so fit and healthy.”

  Oh, if you only knew how untrue that is.

  “I’d trade my monster jugs and mom body for yours in a freakin’ heartbeat.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. Your body is a well-oiled machine. Popping out four kiddos with no problems. You’re still sexy, sassy and secure in who you are. I envy you for that.” She paused. “On second thought, let’s trade.”

  “I love how you can build me up, sis, when I need it the most. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. As long as I’m on a roll with advice, I think you oughta surprise Bran with the spontaneous sex you’ve been missing.”

  “Please give me a very detailed plan on how to make that happen, complete with bullet points,” she said dryly.

  “I’ll come out tomorrow and watch all four kids and you take my shift at WWC. After Penelope arrives, go to my trailer and call Bran. Tell him you’ve got three hours of absolute alone time and you’re horny as fuck.”

  She cocked her head. “That might actually work.”

  “Get your fetish wear out. Then snap a shot of your snatch and send it to him.”

  “Snap a shot of my snatch?” She giggled. “Or maybe a candid of my cooter?”

  “Or a pic of your pussy.”

  “Or a vignette of my vag?”

  Bailey laughed. “We definitely need to day-drink more often.”

  “Amen to that.” Harper laid her head on Bailey’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. On so many levels, Bails. I was really mad at you for pointing out all of the issues with WCC last week.”

  “I know.”

  “I was hoping you hadn’t noticed them. Then I wouldn’t have to make any changes. But I have to because I know it—I—can’t go on this way.”

  She made an affirmative noise.

  “Things change. People change. Goals change. When I was first with Bran, I wanted to prove I was savvy enough to run my own business. I did that. I loved it. I still loved it after we had Tate. And after Jake. I loved working away from home less after Gage. And even before Angel was born, I’d started to resent the time WCC took me away from my boys. I didn’t care nearly as much about success and staying up on fashion trends. It showed in the inventory. Then the lack of unique items showed in the sales receipts. The Split Rock has undergone some changes too, and I kept waiting for Renner and Janie to tell me they wanted to go in a different direction with the space. Especially after Renner dissolved Jackson Stock Contracting. That, more than anything, proved to me that everyone’s goals have to adapt as their lives change.” She paused. “So yeah, I wanna close the store.”

  Bailey immediately sensed Harper’s relief that she’d admitted it out loud. “Does Bran know?”

  “He’s suggested, more than once, that I just turn the store over to you. And FYI—you can blame Liberty for spilling the beans to us that you’re getting out of the army, or you’re already out, or whatever.”

  She tamped down her anger and casually asked, “When did that come about?”

  “Right before you got here. Liberty suggested you were floundering and maybe I could give you some purpose by having you get involved with the store.”

  “That sneaky bitch.”

  “Yeah. She also warned me she was trying to get you to come to work for her in Denver, so I shouldn’t get too attached to the idea of you sticking around here.”

  Their big sister had played them both, suggesting to Bailey that Harper was floundering and needed help with the kids and the store. Liberty hadn’t done it out of spite, and she hadn’t given Harper the whole truth—thank god—but Bailey was still gonna kick her ass the next time she saw her.

  “Here’s the thing,” Harper continued. “The summer schedule is set. Doing a switchover of retail spaces at the Split Rock would be a nightmare. So I’ve decided in the next week I’ll meet with Renner and Janie and let them know I’m closing the store after Labor Day. I’ll give Penelope t
wo weeks’ notice because I’ve no doubt she’ll land on her feet. That way I’ll still get to have you around the rest of the summer.”

  “I’m down.”

  “Good.”

  “It won’t be a problem if I have to close the store and deal with army outprocessing stuff in Casper?”

  “Nope. Just give me a heads-up.”

  “Cool.”

  “You’ve heard the Harper saga, so tell me what’s new with you?”

  “Well, as of last night I’m fucking Streeter Hale.”

  Harper choked on her drink. “Seriously?”

  “Yep. He’s hot, I like him and he knows it’s temporary. All the requirements for a dirty summer fling.”

  “So much for my assumption he’d stay away from you.”

  “He tried.” Bailey smirked. “And failed. It’d be best if you kept this on the down-low.”

  “I’m certain Angel won’t say a word.”

  When loud noises from the boisterous boys drifted from the driveway, Bailey stood and grabbed the tray. “I’ll head them off while you hide those hooters.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jesus, Street, pay attention!”

  Tobin’s shout brought Streeter out of his daydreaming.

  Was it daydreaming if he was reliving last night’s reality of fucking until they were both hot, sweaty and exhausted?

  “Goddammit, catch her before she gets to the brush!” Tobin shouted.

  Streeter focused on the heifer running away from her calf. Damn thing was a terrible mother; she hadn’t wanted anything to do with that baby since the moment it’d slipped out of her body. It wasn’t unusual in the cattle business, especially with first-time mothers.

  The fact that maternal disconnect happened with humans too hadn’t been a comfort to him.

  He twirled his rope and let it fly, catching the heifer’s rear leg the same time Tobin caught hold of a front leg. Thankfully they’d snared her before she got entangled in the brush in the one section they hadn’t cleared out yet.

  Streeter clicked at his horse and Pepper backed up slowly, allowing him to pull the rope taut. After quickly tying it off, he dismounted and walked to the heifer, now lying on the ground between the two horses.