Stony Creek Hero [Stony Creek 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Taylor Berke

  “I did not! You made that up!” she laughed as she leaned forward toward the table. Her robe parted slightly, giving Ben a tantalizing view of the upper swell of her breasts and a small hint of the cherry nipples just dying to be between his lips.

  Refocusing on the discussion Ben smiled. “Yeah, I did but it’s true anyway, isn’t it?” he queried seriously. “I know it is for me, Lizzie.”

  Lizzie licked her lips nervously and hoped he would answer the second part of her question. She tried to ignore the gush of moisture between her soft thighs at his admittance of his desire for her. To actually hear him admit it made her tremble with her own needs for him. She didn’t have time at the moment to dwell on his confession. She needed to focus. Why would he do this for her?

  “Anyway, why wouldn’t I want to help you? It has nothing to do with wanting to eat you alive. If you do ever let me touch you it is going to be because you cannot live without it and not because you feel obligated as I helped you. Nothing like that, never like that. I just think that I would have a sound investment for some of my money and if it helped such a special person to me in the process, well, then I would be doubly as happy. It isn’t charity, baby, just a solution for both of us. We could have it drawn up all legal like and then perhaps you wouldn’t feel as uncomfortable. I know it would make me feel great to know I wouldn’t catch you so desperately upset like I did last night ever again. Just think about it, look over how much it would save you, and then think again before you give me an answer. If you do agree though, baby, it is also non-negotiable that you inform me of any issues with Mr. Davis. If you don’t, there is going to be a punishment, my kind of punishment. Just think about it, Lizzie. Promise me that much, okay.”

  Her eyes started to match her thoughts. They shifted from a troubled turbulent look to a watery, soft expression. If she wasn’t careful, she would be sobbing all over him again, just like last night. Just like he said he never wanted to see her like again. She needed some food and her pen and paper. Lizzie liked to write things down and look at them while she made decisions. Could she be partners with Ben? Her inner little devil gave her a momentary electric pulse at the thought of partnering up with this gorgeous hulk of a man in all ways but knew that he didn’t do relationships. He did sex. Well, maybe she would give all his versions of partnering a try.

  “I promise I will think about it, Ben, no guarantees though, okay?”

  “Can’t ask for more than that, can I?” he drawled out. He watched her as she scooted herself up and began to pull things out to cook.

  “Lizzie, what are you doing?”

  “I think best while I am cooking, Ben. Cinnamon rolls are great brain food for a Sunday morning. They go very well with the overstuffed omelet, homemade sausage, and fried potatoes that you are going to be eating in a little bit, no?”

  Ben’s stomach started to growl at her while she rattled off her morning menu. If this is what he should expect every time the woman needed to think, well, he was going to have to make sure that she had her pleasure, too, since he couldn’t wait to help her “think.” This was going to be damned enjoyable.

  “Sounds good to me, baby, better than good actually. While you are ‘thinking’ I am going to finish securing Fort Knox here. Gotta protect my investment,” he said with a wink and sauntered off to finish the door.

  Lizzie sighed out loud. She had a feeling, and not the unpleasant sort, that a pivotal change had just occurred in her life. She suspected that Ben really didn’t need her affirmation of the acceptance of his offer. He suddenly had a different air about him as he grinned slyly at her, like ownership.

  Oh wow. Her life was definitely in for some serious changes. Parts of her that had no business being involved with her thinking were distracting her. She felt weak with relief that she had an option and from someplace or rather someone unexpected. She felt a little tremble as she couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

  Chapter Four

  Ben stood outside his parents’ front door trying to decide why he felt such mixed emotions. He had just rode his horse, Cuff, back from his trailer and had some sort of gnawing feeling in his gut. It was as though he felt guilty for leaving his sweet little charge alone at her house, as she had politely declined coming to the Powell homestead for Sunday dinner. In less than twenty-four hours, he had become addicted to her scent and could still taste her sweetness on his tongue from when he had kissed her. If she had come with him, he could be satisfied in more ways than just his hunger. Well, it was his appetite that had him thinking of her soft, naked curves that had blessedly been displayed for him just that very morning. Wiping away the drool-worthy visions, he put his hand on the knob to enter his parents’ home. From the parking area, he heard the deep moan of a man in the midst of some sort of enjoyable activity, sounding as though he was trying to muffle his voice. Leaning around the side of the rail, he spotted the silhouette of his brother and future sister-in-law hard at work trying to make his mother into a grandmother, as soon as possible. They were pressed against the side of his dually, oblivious to sounds of the night air and thick darkness. Jackson had one of Billie’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he obviously enjoyed pleasuring his love.

  Ben quickly shifted his gaze and entered the house, trying not to think about how that could soon be him and Lizzie wrapped in each other’s arms. Hell, did they have to use his truck? Why not his own or Troy’s or one of the cousins’? Yelling his hellos as he went from room to room, he settled with the rest of the manly men in the den where the game was on. Cole tossed him a beer and he listened quietly to the conversation going on around him.

  His Aunt Florence came into the room, wiping her hands on her apron. “Has anyone heard from Jackson or Billie? They usually aren’t this late. I wonder if anything is up.”

  His mother, ever the observant one, chimed in with, “Perhaps they stopped at the ‘make a baby store’ and are searching for ‘something’ for me. I have been wanting ‘something’ from there for several years now that you boys are all too big to diaper. I hope they found what I want!” Lillian and Florence looked at each other mischievously as though they understood each other perfectly.

  Ben almost choked on the beer. He knew what was “up,” literally, and that they were at this very moment attempting to give his mother the “something” that she requested.

  Jackson and Billie had been on a baby-making crusade for the last month, even before their wedding. Billie figured she was older and they should start as soon as possible. Jackson just wanted to practice, all the time. Practice makes perfect he said. What bullshit. If they didn’t cut it out soon, his cock was going to fall off. At thirty-six years old, three years older than Ben’s own thirty-three, he should have a decreasing libido. Apparently Jackson never got that memo.

  After the women exited the room, Cole leaned over toward the other men and joked out quietly, reading Ben’s mind. “If Jackson keeps this up, his dick is going to shrivel up and fall off!”

  All of the other men let out hearty laughs except his Uncle Bill who gave him a healthy slap to the back of his head.

  “Ouch, Uncle Bill! I am too old to slap around. Besides, I am just telling the truth, right, Troy?”

  Troy stopped laughing and looked at his father. “Ugh, Dad, he ain’t lying. Ben is going to have to hose down his truck by the time they are finished.”

  “I expect you not to say one damned word when they get in here. You had better not embarrass Billie and curdle my future grandbaby in there. You boys hear me? That means you, too, Ben.” Bill looked sternly at Ben.

  “Are you saying I can’t get annoyed at Jackson for trying to make mom ‘something’ on the side of my own truck for Pete’s sake?” Ben grumbled out.

  Bill cocked his head to the side displaying a huge grin. “Uh, yup.”

  “Shit, Dad, you take the fun out of everything,” Ben ground out.

  “You will see, Ben. Your day will come and then, you will probably give your moth
er and me a set of twins!” Bill laughed richly.

  Ben let out a shudder. He couldn’t imagine settling with just one woman much less have children, no, make that multiple children. Suddenly images of the sweetest smile that could turn a man on fire interrupted his limited thinking. Lizzie would give him the most beautiful children. Little girls like her, sweet and saucy.

  Now where the hell had that thought come from? Babies with Lizzie?

  “Someone give me another beer, stat!” Ben yelled out.

  All the men turned as they heard a very loud, very feminine voice from the kitchen yell out, “Say please!” Ben turned a deep shade of red at his mother’s booming demand for him to mind his manners. He heard his cousin’s and Troy’s snickers and knew that he was in trouble.

  The impending beating was interrupted by the arrival of a very red-faced Hunter Lang. Hunter’s spread was on the other side of theirs, called The Green River Ranch. Hunter wasn’t as tall as the Powell boys but was the broadest of the group. At six feet, with dirty-blond hair and blue eyes, he knew he wasn’t any sort of slouch. A walking wall of muscle was how some of the adoring women of Stony Creek described him. However, he wasn’t much for conversation with men or women, ever. He saved it for his cattle and strays.

  Hunter strode rapidly into the den, seeming to ignore all the chuckling men, and went straight for the hard liquor, not his usual habit. Four shots of whiskey later, he turned around seeming to realize that he held everyone’s attention, not something he was known to care for.

  Brody went for his throat first. “So, Hunter, want to tell us what has you so, um, dehydrated? You look sick.”

  “I am not sick, you ass. I just need to sterilize my eyes. Some things were not meant to be seen in this world.”

  Bill, being the older clueless one in the room, questioned him. “What the hell did you see, boy, that could actually make you need to drink that much that quickly?”

  Troy, Brody, and Cole were having trouble breathing as they were laughing themselves stupid.

  “Shit, you saw Jackson’s naked ass didn’t you?” Ben queried.

  “Yeah. Can’t he give a guy some warning that he is going to fuck on a truck that is not his own? Ben, I am not kidding, I think they dented it. Billie is gorgeous and all but she is like my sister and Jackson, well, that was just too much clarification for me of how much your mother loves the ‘cute butt’ she made. Damn it, now I need another shot.”

  * * * *

  Jackson and a flush-faced Billie walked into the house not ten minutes after Hunter’s trip to the saloon. Billie made a beeline past the den straight to the comfort of the kitchen where she was protectively embraced by Florence and Lillian. Small snippets of conversation could be heard in the hallway, such as exhausted from work and how her flush was from the heat outside. Peals of laughter followed her confessions with hushed conversation that Ben and the others were sure they didn’t want to hear.

  “Hell, Jackson, did you have to use my truck? Really? It’s contaminated with your shit now!” Ben hurled his accusation at his elder brother.

  Jackson tried to look innocent but couldn’t hide the arrogant pride in his grin. “What?”

  Everyone laughed, including their father. “Well, Jackson, you may be the eldest, you may be just barely the tallest, but stick to your own vehicles in the future when you are making my grandchildren please. I would appreciate it if your mother’s sweet ears weren’t sullied with tales of your debauchery.”

  More feminine laughter was heard coming from the kitchen, seriously contradicting Bill’s assertion of their mother’s innocence.

  “Whose innocence?” was all that was heard from the open doorway. The owner and bartender of the town’s honky-tonk, The Gas Pump, stood in the doorway waiting. Donny was a fun-loving, kind man who was madly in love with Florence Powell. He also derived endless happiness at torturing Bill, his longtime friend.

  “Leave it, Don,” Bill growled out in warning.

  “Hell no! Boys, while your father is pulling his best stern daddy act, ask me where I caught him and your mother last month. Come on, just ask!”

  Collective groans that spoke disgust at the turn of the conversation filled the room.

  With a hiccup, Hunter was the only one who was man enough to ask, probably fortified by his liquid courage. “Where did ‘Papa Bill’ get caught?”

  “Lillian, isn’t dinner ready yet?” Bill desperately hollered in the direction of the kitchen, looking for an escape.

  “Not gonna save you, Bill.” Donny smiled as he threatened the head of the Powell clan. Ben and the men were now watching the silent standoff between the men, with Troy just itching to get the goods on his father. He needed some ammunition against his dad when the shit hit the roof on some of his latest female companionship.

  The women suddenly burst into the room announcing dinner. Florence with the ever-present naughty frame of mind took in the tone of the room. With a shrewd eye she turned her attention to Donny.

  “What did you do?” Florence asked her gentleman in a firm tone.

  With a sly smile he replied, “What makes you think I did anything, love?”

  Ben watched the show with a quiet sense of enjoyment at the entertainment. His little aunt had no fear of anyone, especially this big Irishman who was humorously so enamored with her.

  “Because Jackson looks nauseated, Brody is going to throw up, and Troy looks too eager to get the skinny on my brother-in-law leading me to believe that he must have done something wrong. So I ask again, what did you do?” Florence demanded.

  Donny just crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at Florence with a soft, patient smile on his face.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, dinner is going to get cold,” Lillian spoke up. “Donny is having a field day because he caught us in his office at The Pump with your father’s pants down. Now dinner is served. Please remember to wash your hands, boys!” With that, she grabbed Florence by one hand and ignored Billie’s shocked look and took her arm as they were directed back to the dining room.

  “I don’t know about you all but I have no appetite for dinner after that confession from mom. I think I need to wash my brain out with Listerine or something,” Ben whispered out.

  They all looked toward Bill who had a sheepish expression on his face. “What? Why so shocked? I am your father, you got it from somewhere,” he managed out having the grace to look somewhat embarrassed and trying to ignore the pained looks on the faces of his sons and nephews.

  Hunter walked back up to the bar and lined up shots of whiskey for all the men in the room. He had a feeling that this was going to be a needed fortification for the meal ahead. Billie always said that Hunter was the wise one.

  Chapter Five

  Lizzie woke to the sensation of rough-skinned hands gently running down over her collarbone, leaving sizzling sensations in their wake. A familiar musky cologne was filling her senses as shivers of arousal made her limbs tremble. Goose bumps appeared due to the sensations produced by the strong lips that were currently nibbling up the column of her neck. She sleepily tilted her head to give better access to whoever was providing the most pleasant wake-up she had ever had. Those same strong fingers moved lower to skim over the tops of her sensitive breasts, allowing them to tweak over the tight peaks. Lizzie heard herself moan, wishing for a more predictable stroke while she felt her arousal starting to coat her thighs. More, she moaned in her head, please more. Those magical lips drifted slowly over her cheek to lightly nip at her lower lip. As she let out a soft sigh, the man took advantage and swept his tongue into the recesses of her mouth, drawing her further into his intoxicating spell. She couldn’t think of anything but the strong tongue that was dominating her thoughts while his hands now cupped her breasts reverently through her silky nighty. Why didn’t she just open her eyes? She had to see. Darn it, they just wouldn’t open as he shifted his substantial weight over her while moving in to suck desperately on the sensitive area below her ears. She fel
t him settle in the cradle of her thighs as his solid erection pressed insistently against her damp folds. Her clit rubbed just at the right spot, sending delicious torrents of pleasure up through her body as he started to grind his cock against her feminine warmth. Just another second, that was all needed as she could feel herself on the precipice, please, please let her come. It had been so long since she had any sort of relationship with a man and not one of her own imagination. The man moved restlessly as though he too was getting desperate to get inside her heat.

  “Please, Ben, please, please. I need you inside me, now!” she heard herself yell out.

  Beep, beep, beep, beep… What the heck was Ben’s cell phone on for? He had better ignore that darned thing. Lizzie felt like she was going to throw it out the nearest window. Slowly she found herself able to finally pry her eyes open. Damn it all. It was another dream, really? Disappointment flooded Lizzie’s core as the reality hit her.

  Lizzie sat up in her soft, fluffy, white down blankets with a rush of frustration. Alone, she was all alone, as usual.

  “I knew it was too good to be true. That man doesn’t want me to ruin his goal of bedding a new female every three weeks. He is rapidly approaching a world record or something. Darn it, I was so close, too.” Lizzie let out a loud groan and decided that she needed to take things into her own hands. She lay back into the plush pillows and voluntarily closed her eyes this time, conjuring up the vision of the man she desired more than anyone in her whole life. Her hand stole down the front of her flat abdomen, arousing as it slid liquidly over her silken gown. She used her fingers to pull up the hem as she arched her back and slid her index and middle finger over her clit into her soaked folds. Waves of pleasure radiated up from that small caress, streaking into her limbs.