Breaking Brent
Page 3
He was still as good looking as he had always been. The least he could have done was develop a bald spot or grown a beer gut. It would have made things easier. She heard her brother clear his throat behind her and she pulled herself back to reality and back to her life.
“What are you doin’ here anyway, Reed? Daddy said you had something important to do so you were going to be a little late. That was four hours ago. That’s the reason I’m spending my Friday night here instead of where I originally planned on spending it.”
“Plans have changed, baby girl.”
Peyton hated when Reed called her that. She wasn’t the baby, Reed was by two years. Both her brothers towered over her and they thought that gave them the right to act all high and mighty when it came to her. They were reminded, quite often, that she could hold her own. What she lacked in the size department she made up for in temper. Her daddy always said she was too little to fight fair, so she didn’t—especially when it came to her two giant brothers.
There was nothing wrong with a healthy temper, in her opinion. It kept her brothers, and anyone else for that matter, from running over her. “What big plans did I keep you from?”
“It’s none of your business, but if you must know I was heading to Oklahoma City to visit Carter. He’ll be there for the rodeo and I was going to go see him.” She was going to see Carter all right, but not for the reasons most of Millbrook, or her family, thought.
It had been months since she and Carter had last seen each other. Months since they had met in a sleazy motel room off some unknown highway in Wyoming. Months since they had decided to call it quits. Carter rode in the rodeo circuit as long as it was circulating and catching up with him was like catching up with the wind—it very rarely happened if it happened at all.
His schedule had always put a damper on their quality time. That was one of the things that had come between them. Peyton longed for the comforts of her hometown and Carter never considered Millbrook anything more than just a town, let alone his hometown. Peyton felt like she had known Carter better when they had been only friends. And Carter knew his horse better than he knew her.
“And by the way,” Peyton said as she slapped Reed once on the shoulder with a damp towel. The popping sound it made when it connected did her soul good even if it left a mark behind for him to bear for a few days. “When I got up this morning I found I had a new addition in my backyard grazing happily away. You don’t happen to know anything about that do you?”
“If you’re referring to Cinnamon Stick, then yeah, I know something about that,” Reed said as he stuffed another handful of nuts into his mouth.
“Cinnamon Stick?”
“That’s her name. Thought about changing it, but I think it fits pretty good.” Cinnamon Stick, who based on the name was a mare, was currently occupying space in Peyton’s pasture.
“Where did you find her?”
“Didn’t actually find her as much as I won her.”
“What do you mean you ‘won’ her?” Peyton didn’t like the way this was going any more than she liked that Cinnamon Stick was residing in her yard.
“Well, it’s like this. Me and Travis got into a pretty intense poker game with Lowell Britnell and his brothers. Lowell had a pair of sixes and I had three Jacks. He didn’t have any money, but he had Cinnamon, so there you go.” That explained everything. When Reed and his best friend, Travis Boyd, got together there was no telling what could happen. The goofy-ass grin he sent Peyton’s way did nothing to help her anger at him.
“You won her in a poker game. Shame, shame, Reed James. What would your daddy say?”
“He’d probably say ‘good job, Reed’.” Another smile creased Reed’s face and Peyton admitted to herself that he was probably right. Big Jack would have loved the fact that Reed had won a horse playing poker. “What’s Carter doing in Oklahoma anyway? I thought he was in San Antonio? You sure he said Oklahoma City?”
“Yeah, when I talked to him he said he would be there this weekend.”
“Well, when was the last time you talked to him?”
“A few weeks ago. Why?”
The look on Reed’s face said a mouthful. “Nothing. I think you might want to call him before you make that trip.”
“Well, I’m not making that trip now am I? I’m stuck here doing what you’re supposed to be doing. You owe me like forty shifts. This bar is supposed to be a joint effort and it seems to me that I’m pulling your weight along with Daddy’s and Murphy’s, and it’s starting to piss me off.”
“Boy, that’s a change from your usual happy-go-lucky nature.” He jumped down from the bar and proceeded to tickle her ribs until a laugh burst from her lungs.
“Stop it. I have work to do.”
“Why don’t you head on out. I’ll take it from here.”
Peyton lifted one of her eyebrows at his offer. What was he up to? “Now why would you offer to take my shift? It’s sure not out of the kindness of your heart—you’d have to have one for that. What are you up to?”
“Can’t a brother do something nice for his sister?” She lifted her eyebrow again.
“Yeah, but when have you ever done anything nice for me?”
“Right now. I’m turning over a new leaf.”
“I don’t believe you, but I’ll take you up on your offer even though I know it will come back to bite me in the ass.” Peyton quickly grabbed her purse from where it sat under the counter and slung it over her shoulder as she moved past him.
“Was that Kelly Cantrell I saw Brent leave with?”
Her jaw tightened once more without her brain telling it to do so. “I don’t know. I don’t really keep up with Brent’s comings and goings, now do I?” She spoke through clenched teeth and barely held on to her temper as Reed cocked one of his eyebrows at her and then laughed.
“Like I said, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.”
Peyton left the bar in a huff. Damn Reed and his nosy ways. She didn’t keep up with Brent Kiel any more than he kept up with her. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t care less if he ever spoke to her again.
As she drove home, a million thoughts crossed her mind. Were Kelly and Brent an item? Were fake boobs and blondes Brent’s cup of tea now? Did he and Kelly spend all night in bed wrapped around each other like she and Brent used to? Why do I even care?
Because you still love him.
When the last thought rolled out, Peyton’s heart constricted to the point of pain. She didn’t love him. Not anymore. She had gotten over him years ago, with Carter’s help. Carter had been there to pick up the pieces Brent left behind. Carter was the one who had been there when Brent wasn’t. Carter was her friend, her confidant, her lifesaver in the sea of hurt she had created for herself, but it wasn’t Carter who occupied her thoughts or her soul—it never had been. It was Brent her heart raced over and it was Brent who had broken it. Peyton hated that fact. She also hated the fact that even though Carter had tried to mend her broken heart, Brent would be the only one who could ever fix it for good.
Chapter Two
Brent relaxed against the pillows of the bed and watched as Kelly knelt between his legs and worked to release the buckle on his belt. Kelly was a knockout—all blonde and tan with blue eyes and a figure that could make a man hard from across the room. He should have been more excited about the events yet to come.
He closed his eyes for only a minute and tried to clear his brain.
He shouldn’t be here.
He should have stayed at the bar instead of letting Kelly, and her figure, talk him into coming home with her. The beer, his dick and the fact that he hadn’t been laid in a month of Sundays were controlling his current actions. The sound of his zipper sliding down made his eyes open and focus on what was happening between his thighs.
Kelly and her big blue eyes were taking in every inch of his rigid dick. Evidently, she liked what he had to offer. Brent watched as her tongue darted across her cherry red glossed lips before
it bathed his cock in one long swipe. It felt good, but it should have felt great. He hadn’t felt great in a long time. Shit, he thought. Here he was getting a blowjob that he didn’t have to work hard to receive, and all he could think about was something else. Not something else. Someone else.
“Do you like that?” The question was asked a split second before Kelly took his entire length into her mouth. The breath in Brent’s lungs released with a hiss. He couldn’t stop the response from his body. His heart began to race, his balls became tight beneath her teasing fingers and his dick throbbed for more of her tongue.
He watched as Kelly and her mouth worked on his cock. She had a perfect rhythm. She would take him deep and then deeper and then stop to lick the pre-come from the slit at the top. Each time she got a taste of him she would moan. The moan vibrated the endless nerves that ran the entire length of his shaft. The tips of her short blond hair caressed his thighs and all Brent could think was how he wished her hair were a different color—a deeper color.
When the image flashed before his eyes he let his head drop back and his eyes close. He accepted Kelly’s tongue and her wet mouth with pleasure, but it was someone else’s face and body he saw in his mind.
Dark eyes were looking up at him instead of blue ones, and when she took him into her throat he could hear the softest, sweetest moan a man could ever hear echo in his ears. Her voice crept into his dreams, into his fantasies and into bed with him and whomever he was there with.
Behind his closed eyes and inside his mind, Brent could see Peyton’s small hands with her elegant fingers grasping him, cupping him, stroking him and making him burn with nothing more than her touch. Her mouth was like the sweetest fire and her pussy was the stuff dreams were made of. At least they were according to his memories. Endless questions raced though his mind. Did she still like being taken by surprise? Was she still as playful as she was demanding? Did her fiancé know she loved being taken from behind? Had he taken her as Brent had taken her?
Kelly pulled him back to reality when she climbed on top of him. Sometime during his daydreaming she had slid a condom on him and had shed the rest of her clothes. She didn’t seem upset by his lack of attention or participation.
Feeling like a heel and like an ass to boot, he made his mind behave and put his focus where it belonged—on Kelly.
Brent helped her remove his T-shirt and pushed his jeans farther down his legs. With Kelly astride him, he took his hard dick in his hand, pumped it a time or two and ran it in between her wet pussy lips. She moaned. He didn’t.
In sync with one another, Brent arched upward and Kelly sank down. With one move he was thrust fully inside her. He took her hips in his hands and showed her how he liked to be ridden. Kelly had other ideas. She took Brent’s hands and placed them on her overly large breasts and set her own pace.
He had to admit—Kelly knew how to ride. She moved up and down and then back and forth. Each move milked his thick cock just a little more. She would sink down completely on him and then grind her pelvis against his. The motion made Brent’s balls draw up and beg for release.
Kelly let her head fall back as she rode his body and hers closer to orgasm, and Brent did the same. He knew better than to close his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself. The visions hit his system like a lightning bolt.
Dark hair, a perfect mix of brunette and blond with coppery streaks, created a curtain across her body and down her back, hiding her breasts and nipples from him. His hands found what he was looking for and two of the most perfect breasts topped with wine-stained nipples, were resting in his palms. He molded them, shaped them and made them his.
Her dark, honey skin glistened and glowed under his gaze. Shapely legs hugged his body and her flared hips rocked back and forth in an unraveling cadence. And she was hot. So hot she could burn a man alive. She was tight and wet and a man could count himself lucky to have the chance to thrust himself into her. As the fantasies progressed, so did his desire.
Brent gripped her hips and his fingertips caressed her round bottom. He cupped the flesh in his hands and increased both of their movements. He worked her clit against his body and the action brought choppy gasps from her throat. She was close and so was he.
It was a mistake to open his eyes. He blinked a few times and saw that instead of the goddess with the glowing skin riding his dick like there was no tomorrow, Kelly had taken her place. Brent’s hands were on her hips. His fingertips were gripping her ass. Kelly’s own hands were busy massaging her breasts and plucking and pulling at her light pink nipples.
She looked down at him and her eyes were glazed with want. Brent clenched his jaw and worked as quickly as he could to finish what he should have never started. He thrust up more than once and brought Kelly down hard against him. Instead of a soft choppy gasp, he brought a scream and then a husky moan from her mouth. She smiled down at him, lifted her fingers to her lips and licked.
Brent watched as her wet fingers trailed down the center of her body and then came to a stop on her clit. Her movements were wild and erratic. The faster her fingers moved the louder her screams became.
Brent closed his eyes, shut out what was actually going on and drifted to another place. It was perfect. She was perfect. Now their bodies were pressed against each other and her hard nipples were teasing his chest just like her pussy was teasing his dick. Her mouth was inches away and he took what she offered. Their tongues glided together in a perfectly choreographed dance. Her lips were silky and swollen and all he ever wanted. She broke their kiss only once to make a request.
“More,” she asked, and Brent gave himself over completely.
With one more swift thrust upward, he settled deep within her warmth and felt her body quake around him. That was the end. Brent’s breath became ragged as he came. He could feel the walls of her body clenching around him and the motion milked the life right out of him. With a sigh, he whispered her name.
“Hmmm.”
The voice wasn’t right. Why would it be? Opening his eyes, he studied the cracked popcorn ceiling of Kelly’s apartment and tried to catch his breath. Her body was pressed against his and her fingers were making circles across his shoulders.
“What did you say?”
“What?” He ran a hand over his face and took another deep breath.
“What did you say at the end?”
“I don’t know.” Brent knew what he had said. He clenched his jaw over the slight and stood. In one movement, he rose to his feet and took her with him. She slid down his body in a seductive way, letting him know that whenever he was ready she was willing. He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, pulled his jeans up to his hips and went off in search of the bathroom.
“You’re more than welcome to get a shower. If you ask nicely, I just might join you.” He closed the door on her voice. The bathroom was small. They all were in apartments like this. Brent was tall and his frame was far from slim and it made maneuvering hard. Good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic. A guy could go crazy in a place like this.
He grabbed a wash cloth from the basket sitting on the back of the commode, disposed of the condom and turned on the taps. When he looked up he caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink staring back at him. He looked like a man that was far from unsatisfied. His hair was in need of a trim, his face was in need of a shave and his body was in need of something he couldn’t have.
“Shit,” he hissed and ran the washcloth over his body. The coolness of the cloth felt like heaven against his inflamed skin. How long had his skin felt like this? Inflamed and smoldering without anything or anyone to bank the fire. Was it two years? Three? More? It was longer than any sane man could handle.
Brent shook his head at his reflection. You’re a glutton for punishment, you know that? He knew he was. He had accused his brother Chase of being one more than once in the last few months. Maybe he was just projecting? Maybe he was just mad as hell? Maybe he was the glutton?
Chase had what and who he want
ed most in the world—in his life and in his bed. What did Brent have? Nights filled with very explicit fantasies, a few memories and days filled with the knowledge that they both would never be anything more.
The knock on the door sounded louder to his ears than it actually was.
“You comin’ out of there anytime soon? Or would you rather I came in?” The doorknob jiggled and Brent thanked his lucky stars he’d had the good sense to lock it behind him. He made quick work of zipping and buckling his jeans and belt, tossed the cloth in the available laundry hamper and pulled the flimsy wooden divider open.
Kelly stood just on the other side wearing nothing but a smile and her skin. Fucking glutton for punishment, he told himself. She laced her arms around his neck, pressed her nipples and breasts to his bare chest and kissed his mouth. With any other man it would have worked. Any other man in his right mind would have had Kelly Cantrell underneath him, on top of him or in front of him in a minute flat. But not Brent. Oh no. He was the one guy within five hundred fucking miles who would rather bed down with his thoughts than with the naked nymph grabbing his ass.
“I need to be goin’.” God, I’m an asshole. He knew he was. But she took it in stride.
“Maybe another time.” She kissed his mouth one last time and let her tongue tangle with his. Yep, a fucking glutton for fucking punishment.
“Another time.” He placed a chaste kiss on her head and went in search of his hat and keys. He found them where he’d left them—resting discarded on Kelly’s beige living-room carpet.
He pulled the soft T-shirt he took from Kelly’s bedroom over his head, grabbed his keys and hat and walked, a little too swiftly, to the front door. He stopped himself and glanced back over his shoulder. Kelly had already disappeared down the hallway into her bedroom and wasn’t giving him another thought. It was for the best. Brent couldn’t ever be fair to her or to anybody else for that matter.