“Tyler,” Flint snipped. “Remember where you are.”
Coco was stunned. She’d always thought Nate and Geraldine had been cautious. She’d never imagined anyone knowing what they might do to earn their income. Unable to come up with a believable response, she held her shoulders high and said, “Of course I hadn’t thought of that, Tyler. You’re right. My boys, as you put it, are in a very dangerous career. Being a livestock dealer in today’s world isn’t as safe as it used to be. There are some shady characters in the business.” She leveled a stare at each one of them before she added, “As I’m sure Brianna now knows.”
Chapter Two
An hour later, Kurt followed Coco to her bedroom, not really sure what to expect but somewhat taken aback by the orderly display of girly things. Pale pinks and baby blue colors along with a doll and teacup collection suggested there was a side to this woman he knew so little about. Given the way she carried herself and the way she dressed at his home, he’d summed her up as a black-and-white kind of woman, one with matted sketches and modern artwork.
“The Baldini clan isn’t home today?” Kurt stood right inside her door, thinking he probably needed an invitation before he made himself comfortable. He only had two choices for a seat anyway—either her bed or a light blue settee which was covered in lingerie. He was half-hard thinking about those womanly items, the thong he could see with the silver ring at the top, the lacy bra with demi-style cups, and so many other soft and delicate undergarments.
Coco pulled a suitcase from an upper shelf in her closet and threw open the hard top. It landed on her floor with a clunk. “I didn’t even bother to unpack the last time I was at your—” A wail escaped her lips then and she covered her mouth, bowed her head and collapsed.
“Oh, baby.” Kurt went to the floor, too, pulling her against his chest and scooting to the bed so he could use the footboard for support.
She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed, crying her little heart out as his own tears stung his eyes. “I’m sorry.” She shook and another cry escaped her lips. “It’s just—”
“Shh,” he whispered, stroking her silken black hair. “I know, baby. I know exactly what it is. We don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain.”
Coco rested her cheek against his chest and her wet face soaked his shirt. He held her still tighter, assuring her everything would be all right.
At some point, they fell asleep. The late afternoon had turned into early nightfall before Kurt was jarred awake by a grandfather’s clock chiming in the distance. Six long resonating clangs struck out before Coco lifted her head.
“Oh no.” She gasped. “We should go.”
“Hang on there a minute.” He grabbed her arm before she slipped away. “What’s your rush?”
“I’m needed,” she said frantically. “Liam and Brandon…all of them must be starved to death by now.”
“Do you think that’s why I asked you to go home with me?” He studied her beautiful flushed face and those mesmerizing royal blue eyes, now swollen from all the crying. “Coco, we want you at home with us because we’re already missing four of our own. It was too much to bear to think of your absence too.”
He weaved his hand through her soft locks, realizing she probably had a headache because he’d petted her so much throughout their nap. It had been a natural action, one he couldn’t explain, let alone control. He needed to touch her, caress and comfort her. He’d longed to be close to her and it had been that way since the night his mother and brothers had died.
He’d missed her and he wanted her to know how much.
Without thinking about the poor timing or the way she might interpret his intentions, he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her for the first time. He was aware of her reluctance, of how she pulled back at first, how she seemingly rose to her knees with her head slightly bowed, never giving, but receiving his kiss, accepting his kiss.
“Look at me,” he whispered, tilting her chin up. “I want you to see me—not Brandon—kissing you.”
She thinned her lips then. Pushing him back by flattening her hands on his shoulders, she shook her head and whispered, “No. We can’t…”
“Tell me why you want me to stop.” He held her wrists firmly in his hands. “Talk to me.”
She kept her lips firmly closed and narrowed her eyes on his chest. He wasn’t even sure she saw him then and for a split second, he started to take it personally. Then, he remembered a past moment they’d shared, how she’d expressed herself one evening after a Blazier bonfire down on the river. She’d found him in the barn kissing one of their guests.
Often reflecting on the evening, he had been sure of two things. One, he’d kissed the wrong damn girl that particular night and two, if he’d been fucking her instead of kissing her, Coco still would’ve interrupted them.
He couldn’t help but smile at the memory.
“Don’t do that.”
“What am I doing?”
“You’re thinking about that time I caught you in the barn and ran off your midsummer fling.”
“Which time?” There had only been one. Sure they frequently spent time together but one-on-one time had been limited. Their moment had been in a dark barn where she’d interrupted a groping kiss and told the girl to go home, preaching to the choir by telling the gal Kurt was too drunk to know what he was doing. After the young woman left, she’d told him how it hurt her to see him with other women. They’d had a brief exchange, a telling conversation, and drunk or not, he’d never forgotten it.
“You know which one,” she said, rising from the floor. She went to the closet and removed several shirts. Tossing the hangers aside and the clothes to her luggage, she added, “We’ve been over this a few times. You always get a silly look on your face.”
“Which look?”
“The one that makes me think you want me.”
“I do want you,” he admitted, thinking he may not have told her in so many words in the past. “And Brandon knows it.”
She stopped what she was doing. “Why did you say that?”
“Because I assume you think we all need Brandon’s permission since he had you first.”
She shook her head in obvious frustration and hurried to the bathroom. “Brandon and I are just friends.” She probably believed that now. They’d spent a month apart. How could they be more than friends when Brandon apparently hadn’t even called to check on her?
Kurt followed her, watching as she tossed her toiletries in a vinyl pouch. He stretched his arms over his head and hung on to the doorframe, aware of his stretching muscles, the way she might perceive him then—as a man trying to earn a woman’s attention.
“You’re more than friends,” he finally said.
She paused, studied a tube of lipstick, and placed it by the sink. He took the opportunity to go to her then, assuming her pause was for reflection and her thoughts were more of a debate between right and wrong, what could happen and what shouldn’t.
Kurt wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing up on those full breasts, absolutely in awe of the striking beauty staring back at him in the mirror.
“I want to be your friend, too,” he whispered at her ear, nipping the earlobe. “I want to be more than your friend.”
“We are friends,” she said, already moving her head slightly, clearly enjoying his nuzzling.
He sucked the skin right under her lobe. “Okay, so maybe I want to kick up the heat in our friendship. How about that?”
“Why now, Kurt?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He unbuttoned the back of her dress and pushed the material away from her body. Nipping at the flesh between her collarbone and shoulder, he dipped his head and trailed a kiss up to her ear then back down her shoulder. He stared in the mirror then, noticing the white-hot lust in her eyes, the sensual longing in her expression.
He went to the floor with the black and tan dress, eyeing that shapely ass as he helped her step away from the linen and cotton design.
She’d removed her shoes when they’d entered her house, but he still had the stockings to contend with, to strip from her body without ruining them for later wear.
Rolling them down her legs, he admired her toned calves and slender hips and thighs. She’d stayed in shape by taking long walks with his mother, often loading her in her wheelchair and taking her wherever she wanted to go on their farm. She’d been her constant companion, often spending time with her for four or five days at a time, but at night? At night, he’d heard her. He’d even seen her.
Coco had belonged to Brandon yet Brandon was well aware of the lust some of his brothers held for her as well. They’d told him. They’d expressed their needs, their wants, and their innermost desires.
Kurt cupped her rear as he rose behind her. He slipped his hands over her lower back and gave her a spin as soon as he was on his feet again.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and he convinced himself he hadn’t guided her there, he hadn’t thrown those slender limbs over his shoulders. Even if he had, maybe it was what she’d wanted, what she’d silently pleaded for in her own way. Maybe this was a dream, a fantasy after all.
Kissing her, he acknowledged the growing insanity inside him, the madness she had stirred within him. He’d enjoyed plenty of lovers in the past, but he’d never wanted one of them even half as much as he wanted Coco right then, as he’d lain awake and wanted her so many sleepless nights since Brandon first brought her to their home.
He framed her face, her mouth. Loving her frail smile, he dipped his head and took the kiss, the one to seal the deal now. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth and guided her fingers to his shirt.
Holding her head between his large hands, he deliberately fed their kiss, making each second count, trying to add the sensuality she surely craved. Their kiss turned passionate and full of heat then slowed to a tender sweet kiss, addictive and meaningful.
His shirt was unbuttoned, stripped from his body. His slacks were undone, shucked from his legs.
God help him. This was happening. It was real. She was right there. The one he wanted, the one he’d craved was now locking her small hand around his size, pumping him, steadily working him into another level of heightened arousal, one he hadn’t even known existed.
Kurt lifted her to the vanity. He took a step back and retrieved his pants, digging for his wallet. Throwing the tri-fold on the counter next to her hips, he wasted no time in taking a seat in front of her, scooting the bench back so he’d have room to move.
He placed her small feet on his knees. Spreading her was akin to taking a forbidden peek into heaven, into a realm of the unknown, the previously unvisited.
Tucking his hands under her hips, he brought her to his lips. Her fingers splayed on the countertop and she arched to him then, staying balanced on her firm fingers until he clutched her buttocks and brought her to his lips. He then feasted on her pretty pink folds now swollen from her excitement, flaring as he thrust his tongue inside her.
She stiffened at first, but as he caressed her, loved on her, she relaxed. He drove his whole tongue between her pussy lips and lavished her with pampering sensations, fluttering motions he wanted her to enjoy and truly crave, not just then but from that moment forward. He rocked against her, his head moving from side to side.
“Oh, Kurt!” One hand rested on his head. She casually played with his natural curls, pulling them, wrapping her fingers around the semi-long strands and just yanking the hell out of them as he drove her closer to her release, to an explosive orgasm he wanted her to remember as one of the most magnificent and monumental events of her life.
And by God if he didn’t get it right the first time, he’d keep trying. He’d do whatever it took to convince Coco that from this moment on, she belonged to him more than she belonged to anyone else, including Brandon, including anyone else who might later want to stand in line.
He sucked her clit, pulled the little button between his teeth until she yelped, fell back against the mirror, and stared down at him with wide eyes. “I’ll come,” she mouthed. Her breathing was uneven, ragged. “Can I?”
Could she? Dear God. Why wouldn’t she?
Fingers replaced his tongue. He watched, looked on with amazement as her pussy milked his fingers. That’s when it occurred to him why she’d sought permission. “What do you want, Coco?” He watched her, wondering how she’d prefer to have him the first time. Would she want to ride his tongue, have his face buried against her pussy as she called out his name or would she rather ride his cock, fuck him like crazy as she met one orgasm and he drove her straight for another?
“I want you inside me,” she whispered, shifting forward. She reached for his cock and pumped him.
He was aware of his size as the little vixen seemingly measured his width with her hand. He was more aware of the control he needed. If he fucked her without preparing her, he would hurt her, and God help him, he didn’t want to hurt her. He’d cut off a limb before he’d bring pain to the woman who had been so much a part of his family, who had spent endless hours with them. In many ways, they all considered her a Blazier, one of them, one of the very family members his own mother had practically considered a daughter.
Pushing aside the sadness and grief, he pulled free a condom from his wallet, handing it off to her and watching those tiny teeth as they ripped the packet and released the rubber he’d soon wear. She rolled the protection over his prick, cupped his balls as if to gauge their weight, and then hopped down from the vanity. She then turned around and stared at him in the wall of mirrors behind the sink.
He popped her bottom and her eyes grew heavier. “Again.”
“Ah God,” he rasped, loving the lust in the air, the scent of her sex filling his senses and driving him wild. “You like to be spanked?”
“Yes,” she replied, bowing her head and lifting her gaze.
Those eyes were his undoing, that heated gaze was his day of reckoning. He slapped her ass again and she cried out for one more.
He certainly had more to give. He raised his arm behind his head and spanked her, striking her bottom with a true thought in mind.
She’d kept herself away from him. She’d seen the looks he’d given her. She’d known all along how much he’d wanted her. Now, he’d punish her for the time they’d wasted, for the time they could’ve spent together.
Another round of wallops resounded. She tilted her head, sighed out in pleasure, and fingered her nipples, making him crazy with need as she gave him the best of shows.
“Oh God, I’m gonna blow.” He held his cock still, away from her. Pushing on the small of her back, he admired the pulse of her puckered rosette. He’d soon claim her ass, too, but for now, he wanted to drive a woman to the brink of a scream, fuck her until she was gasping in pleasure, holding out for the most satisfying ride of her life.
He’d dreamt of this. He’d thought of it for days, weeks, months, even years.
Now was their moment. It was time to claim the woman he wanted to share with his brothers, the woman he hoped would one day be his bride.
Chapter Three
Coco wasn’t sure what to make of their connection. He’d gone at her like a feral man, ate her pussy like a scrumptious dinner dish. Now, he was playing with her, taking his own sweet time, making her wild, making her want, instilling in her a requirement for him that was too profound.
This was absurd. The way she needed him, the way she wanted him. The way he manipulated her body like she’d been put on this earth for the sole purpose of being his? It was more than she could handle, much more than she could process.
Still, she gave in. She surrendered. She threw her hips against him, rubbing against his groin, needing him inside her and yet shivering whenever she caught a glimpse of his size.
Twelve inches. He had to be every bit of twelve inches.
She remembered his brothers making fun of him once, telling him the only reason he had one-night stands was because one night with him and the women were rui
ned for life, and not in good way. They left his bed remembering the pain more than the pleasure. Her mouth watered as she eyed his cock in the mirror, watching him stroke himself as he fingered her pussy.
If that piece of masculine flesh brought pain, she wanted every last damning stroke. She wanted him to lock his cock inside her channel and let her test that theory for herself.
“Pain and pleasure,” she whispered, hungry for a piece of him, thirsty for that delicious mix. She bowed her head, stretching to see him as he entered her.
His hips jerked. “Fuck.” He set his lips and jaw. “Sweet baby.”
“Ah dear God!” The width of his head stretched her. It was that mouth-watering mix of pleasure and pain, a muscle-deep burn that was too addictive, too soon.
“Do you need me to stop?” Beads of sweat slipped from his brow. He’d feared this. She saw the angst in his eyes, the apprehension and uncertainty.
“Spank me as you fuck me,” she rasped, needing to loosen up for him, dying to be agile and versatile, the kind of lover he needed, the kind of lover so eager to accommodate him.
He popped her bottom and her pussy creamed around his shaft. “There you go, sweet baby.” He worked his cock inside her, giving her another inch or more. “Don’t let me hurt you.”
She rose to her elbows, still eyeing the hard wedge of masculine flesh pushing inside her, widening her walls, easing forward a little bit at a time.
Again he spanked her and again she squeezed his shaft. She could take him. She planned to handle every last inch.
He held completely still, his beautiful carved muscles flexing. “I can please you other ways. I don’t want to injure you.”
“You’re not hurting me. Pull out and we might have a problem.” She raked her nipple with her thumb, watching that heated lust burn a little brighter in his eyes.
She sucked her middle finger and went for her clit. Twirling the tender button around and around, she made herself hotter, somewhat wetter.
Sexual Expression [Contemporary Cowboys 2] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Page 2
