King's Country (Oil Kings Book 4)

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King's Country (Oil Kings Book 4) Page 11

by Marie Johnston


  I hooked my fingers over the waistband of her plain, pale blue underwear and dragged them down.

  A naked Bristol. My chest got tight.

  I’d never thought this would happen.

  After it had become clear there was more between us than animosity or friendship, I still hadn’t been sure it’d happen.

  I caught her gaze and settled between her legs. She spread them to make room for me. And here I’d thought I couldn’t get harder. There were no pants blocking my erection, but it throbbed like it was trapped behind a zipper.

  A sound ripped out of me that I was afraid would bring a growling Daisy to the door. I’d turned into an animal. Only one thought in my head.

  Pleasure my woman.

  I spread my hands along her thighs and stroked closer to her center, to where she was wet for me.

  I tried to be gentle. I started slow, but the way she swiveled her hips against my tongue broke my restraint. I devoured her.

  She fisted the plain brown comforter we lay on. “Dawson.”

  She wasn’t going to last long. I wanted to feel her clenched around me again. I threaded one finger inside of her and she shattered, coming against my face. I strung her orgasm out, easing my tongue and stilling my finger inside of her until she sagged on the mattress.

  “Oh my god, that was fast,” she gasped. “I should be ashamed.”

  I rose, grinning. She rolled her head to the side and her hair spread out like a fiery halo. Her lips curved up. My siren didn’t have to do anything to beckon me closer.

  “I’m pretty damn proud.” I grabbed a condom and got it on in record time. “But speaking of being fast, I’m going to need one round with no expectations.” I gestured to my dick. “It’s been waiting too long.”

  “That’s your fault,” she purred as she reached for me.

  I draped myself over her and positioned myself at her entrance. Wet heat radiated from her. I wasn’t going to last long.

  I didn’t slam in. I didn’t enter in one smooth thrust. I took my damn time even though it killed me. One inch at a time, her tight heat swallowing me.

  “You’re killing me.” Her fingers curled over my shoulders.

  I was shaking before I’d fully seated myself. “You feel too good to go fast right now.” I backed out and thrust in. Her breath hitched and her breasts ground into my chest. We were as close as we could possibly be. She couldn’t rock up unless I gave her room to.

  This woman made me selfish. I wanted to savor her. Relish her. Take my time, but consume her before I missed my shot.

  I managed a steady pace, somehow keeping myself from hurtling toward my peak. Her body told me what she needed and how hard. I hitched her leg higher and rested a finger on the sensitive bundle of nerves I’d savored earlier.

  She barked out a cry, her body fisting me so exquisitely I probably couldn’t repeat my own name.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I groaned. I was sure there were more romantic things I could say, but it was the truth.

  Energy coiled at the base of my spine and exploded. I buried myself in her until I didn’t know where I ended and she began, and I came. Hard.

  “Bristol!” My release jetted out of me. My hips swung like they were on a hinge and I emptied myself while she wrapped her arms around me, her tongue licking across my chest.

  A ragged groan left me and I sagged over her. She caught me.

  I didn’t have to worry about smothering her. She was strong. My face was buried in her hair and her legs were still wrapped around me. Neither of us moved. We enjoyed our postcoital bliss together.

  The relief cascading through me shouldn’t be a surprise. Half the day, I’d been afraid the last month and a half would dissolve and we’d return to being acrimonious neighbors. Tucker had said she hadn’t asked about me, and yeah, I might’ve been a little insecure about it.

  Until I’d thought about who Tucker was referring to. Bristol wasn’t going to sit around and wait for some guy. She’d only let me take care of her because her cattle had needed as much help as she had. She wasn’t waiting around for me to get done with work; she had her own shit to do.

  And when I’d returned to my house, half frantic that I’d kept her waiting too long and expecting a lecture like what I’d gotten from my college girlfriend, I’d found the place empty. Because she had her own shit to do.

  Then I’d scrubbed the grit and stench of the trailer off me and rushed over here, half frantic again that she’d be mad as hell that I’d stood her up and hadn’t talked to her all day.

  Instead, I’d found Bristol getting ready for bed. Because she knew what being a rancher entailed. Long hours, and we couldn’t be around to babysit people when we had hundreds of cows to keep alive.

  I pulled out of her but kept her curled into my side, much like we’d done every night for the last week. Goose bumps rippled over her body.

  Right. She didn’t have heat unless she ran the generator. The nights still got cool.

  “Get under the blankets. I’ll be right back.” I opened the pocket door. Daisy rushed past me like she had to check on Bristol. One more step and I was in the impossibly small bathroom.

  There was a little trash can I used for the condom. She’d put a piece of plywood over the toilet so it made a little shelf. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my hands off. That was about all I could do.

  I wished I could be with her in my house, but being in the RV with her was more important. She’d hidden this part of her life from everyone. I refused to be just another person to her.

  I went back in and shooed Daisy out. I swear the dog slapped me with her tail as she passed.

  “I’m not going to score any points with that dog, kicking her out.”

  “She’ll get over it.” As I closed the door, she looked past me into the shadowed RV. The yard light cast enough of a glow to see the interior. “Or maybe not. We usually share body heat.”

  “I’m sharing your heat tonight,” I said as I crawled in beside her naked body. Good. She hadn’t put her shirt and underwear back on.

  “You’re staying the night? Our feet hang off the end.”

  “Yep. But I have two more condoms, so . . .”

  She chuckled and snuggled into me. “I’ve never had anyone over.”

  “Believe it or not, me neither.” She looked back at me and I shrugged. “If I wasn’t feeling it, it seemed, I dunno, douchey to have sex in the house I never plan to leave.” I let out a sigh. “Never mind. There was my college girlfriend, but she and I slept in my old bedroom upstairs.”

  “I’d heard you two were serious.”

  “Yeah. I guess.” I thought back to those days. How hopeful I’d been to have someone to share my passion and my life with. Only to defend it every time we’d talked about the future. “I think I was more serious about the idea of her than her.” That sounded worse than I’d thought it would.

  “It’s easy to do. How do you think I put up with Marshall for so long?”

  “I want to drive to Miles City and key his flashy car. But, yeah. If someone doesn’t understand our life, it’s not like there’s a future.” I hugged her to me. I’d come home late most nights the last six weeks and she’d been watching Netflix or reheating leftovers. “I’m to blame too.”

  “How so?”

  “I assumed we’d marry and she’d move here and we’d be happy forever. But she was going to school for architecture. It wasn’t like she could move to King’s Creek and get a good job. It’d pretty much be career suicide before she even started. When she finally got that through to me, I realized we were done. She didn’t take it well.”

  “Thought she should be enough to leave the ranch for?”

  “Yep.”

  She went quiet and I was regretting telling her about my past. I hadn’t been as serious about McKenzie as I’d been about settling down, but it wasn’t cool to talk about another woman right after your first time with someone special.

  I was about to apologize when
Bristol said, “I like to pretend that was why it didn’t work out between my mom and Pop.”

  Whoa. That was heavier than my youthful ignorance.

  “I know everyone says that she left because she couldn’t stand Pop, but I think it was being miles from everyone. Pop wooed her to the trailer and knocked her up. She stayed long enough to realize that I was the chain and Pop was the ball, and she couldn’t be just a rancher’s wife or a mom. So she left.”

  And left Bristol too. “I know this life isn’t for everyone, but I don’t agree with what she did.”

  “She went to LA. Wanted to model or something, Pop said. I don’t think he was lying since that’s where she died.”

  I jerked and rolled to my elbow, staring down at Bristol. “She died?”

  Bristol nodded like it was old news, and fuck, it probably was. “When I was fourteen. Car accident. Her parents had already passed sometime before that. I don’t know. I never met them.”

  “Damn, Bristol. I’m sorry.”

  “It . . .” She blew out a gusty sigh. “It helped when I heard, actually. I’d been left behind, but I was still alive. That must mean I was supposed to be where I was. It doesn’t make any sense. It sounds bad when I say it out loud.”

  “It makes perfect sense.” It didn’t, but I wasn’t the daughter some woman had abandoned.

  “There’s an extra blanket in one of the drawers behind you. I can always turn on the generator and get some heat going.”

  “I plan to keep you plenty warm tonight.”

  She blinked up at me. “Oh? How do you plan to do that?”

  I flipped the blanket over my head and worked my way down her body. “Let me show you.”

  Chapter 8

  Bristol

  I drove down Dawson’s drive. We’d made plans to have breakfast before we worked my cattle today. Other than the first night I’d been back in the RV, Dawson hadn’t slept over. But we’d still had sex. Every night.

  Yesterday morning, he’d caught me as I was coming out of the trailer and we’d had sex in his pickup. I’d been half terrified Tucker would drive up on us, but Dawson had assured me Tucker and Kiernan were on the opposite side of his land.

  It wasn’t bad being back home. As long as I wedged a window open in the trailer most of the day, it was tolerable. I wouldn’t say pleasant. The carpet would have to be ripped out and the furniture hauled to the dump, but between the air freshener and real fresh air, my stomach didn’t twist at the thought of using the bathroom.

  I parked where I usually did in front of the house, but Dawson was perched on an overturned five-gallon pail next to the barn door. He had a fluffy kitten tucked into his chest.

  My grin spread wide as I got out and crossed the drive toward him. My boots crunched in the dirt and he looked up. Two more fluffy bundles bounded at his feet.

  “Do all the Kings cuddle kittens, or just you?”

  “My brothers will say they don’t.” Dawson scratched the tiny kitten’s head. “I try to limit how many are running around so they stay healthy, but Magnolia got pregnant before I could get her in to the vet.”

  I squatted and picked up a long-hair tabby kitten. The little thing practically jumped into my hands and was madly purring before I got her tucked into my arm. “I don’t think you have to worry about them being feral.”

  “Nope. I make sure of it. Between me and Kiernan’s daughter, we tame them. Magnolia’s a wicked hunter, so I’m hoping to move this litter to the old chicken coop by the far shop.”

  I didn’t have an official farm cat. A couple of strays had called dibs on my shop and one of the toms had a spraying problem. If I were friendlier with the rescue organization in town, I’d ask for their help to catch and fix them. But I wasn’t, so saving up for a couple of neuterings was on my list. Until then, they’d probably knock up the females that Dawson didn’t get to in time.

  But we had plenty of land and a ton of rodents. The gophers had been downright obnoxious until one of Dawson’s female cats had swung by to hunt the yard.

  I put my knees on the cool grass and scratched the little one’s ears. Daisy would have been jealous but she’d stayed behind. Dawson and I were heading right back after we ate. Tucker and Kiernan were meeting us.

  I’d woken up excited about today. I’d get to work cattle with experts. Guys I could glean tidbits of information from. Ranchers. Actual ranchers. Not someone off the street who’d done nothing more with a cow than buy a steak at the supermarket.

  A day like today would usually have made me cranky, but the three of them were really good to me. And thinking about today helped distract me from tomorrow and the weekend. Dawson was working his own cattle tomorrow, and I was helping. I had to, after all they’d done for me. It wasn’t like they needed me, but I could also accumulate more helpful tips. That wasn’t the problem.

  The problem was his dad was coming tonight, along with Beck and Eva. Aiden and Kate were coming after they were done with work tomorrow. Even Xander and Savvy were flying back from whatever country they were in. Dawson had said they’d only just started building their new house near Billings, so they would be staying at Dawson’s too.

  Working cattle was a thing for the family. A weekend of hard work, family gathering, and downright fun.

  I wanted to have fun working cattle, doing hardcore cowgirl work, like rounding them up with Bucket. But it was harder when all I had was Bucket. I didn’t have many head, and they were used to me, but funneling them to a smaller pasture, into a smaller corral, and then into pens was a shit ton easier when I had others who knew what they were doing.

  Working the cattle was a different story. I could castrate a calf in seconds, but last year one of the guys Pop had hired had passed out at the sight and damn near got trampled. Then Pop had nearly collapsed from the exertion of helping the hired man.

  I wanted to see how the Kings did it. But I’d have to hang out with the Kings—with all of them—to do it.

  Would they be as chill as Aiden?

  Chill wasn’t the right word. Nonhostile?

  But then there was the attitude change in Dawson after our night out with Aiden and Kate.

  As if he sensed my nerves, Dawson gazed up at me. “I have some news.”

  I looked up from the fuzzy head of my kitten.

  “Dad and Kendall are going to be here soon.”

  I clutched the kitten to my body. It squirmed and its tiny claws scraped my skin. “Sorry.” I set it down and it toddled away with its tail pointing to the sky. “How soon?”

  His gaze drifted toward the drive. The purr of an engine approached and I didn’t bother to look.

  Despite the warm sun, ice washed through my veins.

  Dawson could ignore his family when they weren’t in King’s Creek and he just had to send a terse reply to butt out. But they wouldn’t butt out when they were staying under the same roof.

  “I’m sorry,” Dawson rushed out. “He called as he was getting to town. I swear I didn’t mean to spring it on you.”

  “No. It’s your dad. I shouldn’t be the deciding factor for whether he comes over or not.”

  “I know, but”—Dawson put his kitten down and it bounced in the same direction as its littermate—“I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

  Gentry was usually fine. If we crossed paths in town, he’d give me a terse nod and I’d lock up and not know what to do. I’m sure I came off as a cold bitch. Usually, that was my goal, but with Gentry King, it was different. I didn’t want him to think I was all ice when it came to losing Sarah. But I wasn’t sure how else to act. I couldn’t bring myself to say hi and risk a fuck off. It would’ve been like coming from Sarah herself.

  I followed Dawson to the house.

  Kendall shot out of Gentry’s pickup and ran for Dawson. She gave him a bear hug, pounding his back. “It feels like it’s been forever.” She broke away and came toward me. I stopped like a deer caught in the beam of her brights. “It was a long winter, wasn’t it?” She stopped sh
ort as if she knew a hug was as far out of my comfort zone as the moon. “Hey, Bristol. Nice to see you more than in passing. How’s your leg?”

  My leg had been the icebreaker with Kate too. It was like the powers that be had pushed me off Bucket just so Dawson’s family would have something to say to me. “It’s healing well.”

  Three nights ago, I’d had to soak in Dawson’s tub. He’d been in there too, but he’d given my leg time to quit throbbing before he’d climbed in and made the rest of my body forget to ache.

  “Good.” Kendall glanced back at Gentry. He was walking toward us with Dawson.

  Gentry was dressed like I’d grown up seeing him—boots, hat, worn jeans, and a long-sleeved, solid-colored shirt. So different than the pictures of him that were splashed all over town. And across Miles City, and of course Billings, where the head office had moved to years ago. Seeing him with slicked-back hair and dressed in a suit had been odd. Usually, I tried to avoid looking at him at all. Whenever I did, I thought of Sarah.

  “Bristol,” Gentry said carefully, like he was testing my volatility. “Nice to see you.”

  I dipped my head. Dawson stepped next to me and put his arm around my waist. My eyes flared. I didn’t mean to aim my astonished gaze at him, but I wasn’t the only one. He’d said he’d messaged them about me, but it seemed like no one had believed him, including me.

  Dawson lifted his chin toward the house. “I have an egg bake in the oven. Head on in.”

  Kendall broke the tension and clapped her hands. “I was hoping you’d feed us. I was just asking Gent if I should run to town for egg bake ingredients or if that was too bold.”

  Since I’d had his egg bake before, I didn’t blame Kendall. I, too, had been thinking about buying the groceries and hoping he’d get the hint.

  Dawson chuckled. “You know I take orders. I have a French toast bake I want to test on you all this weekend.” He started for the house and I walked next to him, my legs wooden and my mind spinning.

 

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