Texas Men

by Delilah Devlin

  “The scent of you in the cab…” A deep inhalation was followed by a soft sigh of air she felt through the thin material covering her sex.

  Sweet Jesus. His head was between her legs, looking at her, smelling her. Fingers traced the length of her pussy through her panties, and then one dipped into her entrance like a small penis sheathed in silk.

  Her thighs tensed at the intrusion. Her hand swept her belly, trying to still the little tremors that rippled across it.

  The finger withdrew and dragged upward, rubbing on her cloaked clit, sparking another wave of shivering arousal. Her thighs were lifted over strong shoulders, and he dragged her bottom to the edge of the seat. Fingers gently pushed aside the fabric, and his tongue stroked her.

  “I can feel the vibrations on my tongue. I can hear them.”

  She could, too, as well as the moist clasp of her labia around her entrance. She moaned and then bit her lip to still her cries.

  “No one can hear you but me,” he growled. “Let me hear what I do to you. Let me know if I please you.”

  “If you please me?” she said, her voice rising in disbelief. “You’re killing me.”

  Soft chuckles accompanied short gusts of air that warmed her moist sex. Then his lips took her, suckling on her folds, and his tongue slid along the quivering edges.

  Fingers stretched her sex upward, and cool air touched her swollen clit. Then warm, wet, suctioning lips surrounded it, and she couldn’t hold back the high-pitched keening that tore at her throat.

  With her vagina filled with strengthening vibrations and his mouth and tongue nipping and circling on her clit, Amy couldn’t halt her headlong flight into ecstasy. Her head thrashed on the seat; her fingers threaded through his warm, thick hair and held him there until she slowly fell back down to earth.

  Her panties slid back over her sex. Her legs slid off his shoulders, and Logan pulled her upright.

  With her skirt around her waist, and her heart beating madly, Amy’s hand went to her hair to smooth it down, just to stall him for a moment while she gulped deep breaths of air. It was almost embarrassing how quickly she’d come.

  “Come inside?” he asked, extending his open palm.

  Again she didn’t hesitate, and she let him pull her from the truck.

  He led her inside his home. She glanced around, but the living room was darkened. With a similar layout as her own house, she knew he was leading her to his bedroom. Not the naughty room that faced the field.

  Inside the bedroom, lamps at each side of the bed cast a golden glow over a brown satin coverlet covering a massive king-size bed.

  And although this would be their first time to make love completely, Logan left her standing at the end of the bed while he pulled his wallet from his pocket and dropped it and his keys on a wooden tray on the dresser. Things he probably did every day without thinking. He unbuttoned his cuffs, opened his shirt, and shrugged it off.

  Feeling a little forgotten, she asked, “Should I undress?”

  His head turned, his gaze narrowing, but not in an intimidating way. He seemed to be studying her. “Are you waiting for me to tell you?”

  Because she didn’t know what he expected, she shrugged. Logan wasn’t like any other man she’d ever dated. His needs, his tastes were beyond her comprehension. So were his expectations. “Should I?”

  His smile, although warm, sent shivers along her skin and raised goose bumps along her arms. His features were taut, his eyebrows slightly drawn, darkening his eyes. “Do you know what I am?”

  “A deputy?”

  He shook his head. “Have you heard the term BDSM?”

  She nodded slowly. She’d seen the Web sites, the ones her sister sent her to. “The things you did with them, Joe Chavez and Sarah…that’s what you’re talking about.” At his slow nod, she continued. “Do you want to do that with me?” she asked, although not exactly sure she was ready for the answer.

  Sure, her curiosity had been whetted by her voyeuristic introduction, but it had been so long since she’d been with a man. She wanted tenderness. Comfort.

  “You’re afraid, but you’re willing, aren’t you?”

  She nodded quickly before her courage deserted her.

  His chest lifted, and his features softened. “Someday. Maybe sooner than I think. For now, let’s go slowly. I want you undressed.”

  Because she didn’t want to extend this conversation, she reached to the zipper at the back of her dress.

  “I’d do that for you, but I want to watch. Do you understand?”

  “I know you can be a gentleman. But I understand. I watched you, after all.” She started the zipper down behind her neck and then dropped her hands and reached behind again to lower it the length of her back. The fabric parted, cool air slipping beneath to lick at the perspiration beginning to gather between her shoulder blades.

  The dress slithered to the floor, and she stepped out of the dark silken pool and then bent to take off the sandals and straightened.

  Standing in her corset and panties, she should have felt more at ease. He’d seen her like this before.

  But his unrelenting stare didn’t give her a clue about what he really thought. Did he think her torso was too long? Too lacking in curves?

  “Turn around.”

  Again, without a moment’s thought, she did as he commanded, turning slowly. Now, this was a view she hadn’t offered him before, and she closed her eyes. She knew her ass was small.

  When her back was to him, he said, “Bend at the waist.”

  God, no. But she hesitated for only a moment and then bent, bracing her hands on her knees.

  His footsteps drew close. The strap that bisected her buttocks was tugged, tightening it against her, and then dropped. Fingers slid beneath the crotch of her panties and tunneled into her. The egg and his fingers withdrew.

  He walked away, but still she remained bent. Some instinct told her she’d pleased him before with her obedience. His pleasure warmed her. However embarrassing presenting her ass for him to watch might be, she wanted to please him more than any woman ever had.

  He approached again. A palm cupped one cheek and squeezed and then cupped the other and patted it.

  “Your skin’s beautiful. Soft.”

  She’d loofahed until her whole body was reddened and then smoothed on moisturizer lightly scented with mango and rose. She was damn glad she’d gone to the extra effort.

  Fingers plucked the ties of her corset, and it gradually loosened. She drew a deep breath.

  “Straighten and turn around.”

  Her hand clutched the sagging garment to her chest as she turned.

  One dark eyebrow arched.

  Amy firmed her mouth and dropped her hands. The corset slipped just beneath her breasts, catching on the slim curves of her hips.

  His gaze dropped immediately to her breasts, which she knew were small with proportionately small nipples. There was barely enough curve for a man to cup inside his palm.

  “Are you sensitive there?” he asked.

  She nodded. Wasn’t every woman?

  “Very?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We’ll see.” His fingers curved around the dainty tips and pinched.

  Her breath hitched as pleasure arced, sending darts of heat toward her core.

  “Too much?” he asked.

  “Please…don’t stop.”

  He came closer, his fingers tugging and squeezing her tender tips. “I could suck all of you into my mouth,” he said in that deepening tone that made her shiver.

  “I know I’m small.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  She snorted. Her first act of dissension.

  “You don’t think so?”

  Amy kept her gaze on a point on the wall beyond his shoulder as he continued to tease her nipples with alternating strong tugs and gentle rubs.

  “See?” he said, dropping his hands. “Perfect. They look as though they’re begging to be sipped.”

/>   The tips of her nipples were elongated and a deep, rosy brown. The areolae were slightly dimpled. Staring at herself and knowing he was watching her face for her reaction and not her chest seemed somehow more erotic than his touches had been.

  “Take the rest of your clothes off and meet me in the bathroom.” Without a backward glance, he left her standing in the middle of his bedroom floor.

  The sound of water filling a tub galvanized her. She shimmied the corset over her hips and let it drop, kicking it away. Then she pushed her panties down.

  She was hurrying to the bathroom door before she thought that maybe she shouldn’t act so eager. He liked her obedience, but he’d also enjoyed Sarah’s defiance. Would he become bored if she succumbed too quickly, if she surrendered herself completely to his whims?

  But she couldn’t think about that now. He might have made her come with his mouth and a shiny little egg, but her body still ached to be filled. If tonight was all she had, she wasn’t going to waste a moment on flashes of self-doubt.

  He was bent over the tub, fingers beneath the fall of water from the tap as he adjusted the temperature.

  “Shall I get into the tub?” she asked, waiting for him to turn, but she caught his reflection in the mirror and saw the way he gazed back at her, his nostrils flaring, his body tightening. She’d never felt sexier.

  “Not yet,” he finally replied, leaving the water running. He strode toward the counter, pulled a towel from the rack beside it, and placed it on the counter beside the sink. “Come over here.”

  She approached him just as he pulled open a drawer and pulled out an electric shaver. “Um…what’s that for?”

  “I’m going to shave your pussy before I bathe you.”

  Before he bathes me…? Wait—she rolled the conversation back. “You’re going to shave me. But why?”

  “Because it’s my preference. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No…no problem. But…Sarah wasn’t shaved.”

  “She isn’t mine.”

  Amy liked the sound of that. But for how long did he want that to be true? “And I am? But we’re just getting to know each other.”

  “Sweetheart, we’ve been getting to know each other for weeks.” He opened the towel on top of the countertop. “To catch the hairs.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe if you let me do this myself.”

  “You’d deny me the pleasure?”

  She didn’t understand how a man could derive pleasure from such an intimate task. Something in her expression must have told him so because he folded his arms over his chest, and his expression grew set and watchful.

  He was firm on this point. Or was he testing her to see if she would obey? “I feel like I don’t know the rules here. I want to please you. I want this to be…perfect, but this…” she said, waving her hand at the razor. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “How can this be more intimate, more embarrassing, than you letting me eat your pussy out?”

  Her face burned with the memory. Yeah, that had been her on the front seat of his truck, letting him have her in full view of anyone who might have driven by. “Fine,” she said, the word clipped. She strode toward him, heat in her cheeks.

  He gripped her waist, and before she could protest that she was too heavy, he’d lifted her easily to the countertop. “Oh,” she gasped.

  “Open your legs and lean back. Then scoot your ass forward. I need room. And I need to see.”

  Lord, she wished her thighs didn’t spread like butter over the edge of the counter, but she eased back, bracing a hand behind her for support, and then slowly parted her legs.

  But he wasn’t satisfied, pressing against her inner thighs to widen them farther. Then he trailed his fingertips over her still moist folds, combing through her short curls. “Same color as the hair on your head,” he said, smiling slightly. “And thick.”

  Was it an unusual amount? She hadn’t thought so, but then again she hadn’t seen many other pussies, not since gym class in high school anyway. “Would you just start?” she asked, agonized with humiliation.

  His gaze lifted from her sex. “I don’t like that you’re embarrassed.”

  And how am I supposed to be casual with this?

  Taking a deep breath, she struggled to relax. She had promised herself she would do anything for one night with him. If letting him shave her was the cost, so be it. Mustering up her courage, she went for boldness and tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.

  “Isn’t it your job to put me at ease?”

  A brow lifted, but he withheld further comment and picked up the electric shaver. “I’ll use this to clear away the bulk of it, but I’ll have to use a double-edged razor to make you smooth.”

  Self-doubt threatened to cripple her new adventure.

  Sure, his body was to die for. But so far, he hadn’t shown any interest in putting his amazing cock into action. She wondered if he’d changed his mind, or if he had more “improvement projects” to complete before he’d be satisfied she was good enough for him.

  The razor hummed louder than the egg, but her body seemed conditioned to respond to the sound. Her blood raced faster, heating her up, causing perspiration to gather on her forehead and upper lip. Her embarrassment faded as she worried about hiding her arousal, which seeped steadily toward the lips he shaved.

  His thumb brushed over one side of her folds, and the razor followed, the teeth of the razor gliding across her skin and lifting tufts of her brown hair, which he efficiently plucked away and dropped into the trash can beside his feet.

  She wondered at the thought and preparation that had gone into this task and felt confused by the emotions roiling inside her. Besides the waning mortification, she also felt oddly cherished.

  A tall, handsome man was shaving her pussy, changing something about her appearance—that no one else would ever see or know about—to suit his own desires.

  How could she argue with that? Why would she even want to try? If permitting this oddly endearing intimacy pleased him, who was she to complain?

  The razor continued its monotonous hum, and she relaxed, wondering idly if it was possible to come from the vibrations. Would he be surprised?

  5

  The razor chuffed upward, smoothing over her mons, denuding her of hair, and then delved into the crevice between her thigh and lips.

  She opened wider before he asked, and she kept staring at his hands, fascinated with the care he took. When he completed the process with the other fold, he turned off the razor and set it aside. “Into the tub with you now.”

  He helped her off the counter, and she slid past him, sighing as her skin brushed his.

  The water was deep, and he emptied a bottle of white liquid into the tub. With a swirl of his fingers, the scent of roses filled the air in the steamy room.

  She stepped over the edge of the tall tub and sank until the milky water reached her shoulders. “This smells divine.”

  “A milk bath with rosewater.”

  She bit back the question she wanted to ask. Was this part of an established routine, another of his preferences with “his” women? If so, she really didn’t want to know. Instead she asked, “Will you be joining me?”

  “No, thanks. I just needed the bristles softened. You can stand up now.”

  She accepted the hand he held out and stood in the tub while he sat along the curved edge. He shook a can of lady’s shaving cream and then blew foam into his palm, which he used to coat her sex. The double-bladed razor he wielded next didn’t give her a moment’s worry. He’d done this before, after all.

  At his urging, she placed one foot on the edge of the tub, opening herself to him, and he slowly, deftly shaved the rest of the tiny hairs away, wiping the blade with a cloth to remove the hair and keep the water clean.

  When he’d finished, he swiped away the excess foam. His fingers smoothed over her folds. “Feel this,” he said, glancing up at her.

  She cupped herself. It felt foreign, not like p
art of her body at all, that baby smoothness on her mound and pussy. Her skin was soft and so sensitive she shivered at the touch of her own fingers.

  He was smiling when she lifted her gaze again to him. “Now get into the bath.”

  She slid down, sighing. The temptation to keep touching herself there was so strong she placed her hands on the rim and gripped it. But soon enough, Logan gave her something else to obsess about. He stripped, seeming unaware of her staring.

  This close, with all that burnished skin and his thick red-brown cock exposed, she couldn’t help but feast her eyes on his body. “Thought you weren’t going to join me,” she murmured.

  “I’m not, but why get my clothes wet? Remember, I’m bathing you.” He grabbed a washcloth and sat on the tub edge again. “Where do you want me to start?”

  Because her body was completely concealed beneath the milky water, some of her confidence returned. She gave him a little smile. “Can I choose the interesting bits first?”

  “Things might be over pretty quick.”

  “I’m getting a little anxious. I wouldn’t mind.”

  He trailed a finger down her cheek. “This isn’t a race, Amy. And every part of you interests me. Will you let me explore?”

  Again she swallowed, this time because her mouth had gone dry. “Then start with my toes. I’m really ticklish there, and if you get that over with first, the rest won’t be spoiled with a fit of giggles.”

  With a smile, he scooted down and held out his palm. She hated giving him her foot. It was really large. She would have had to lop off her toes and half of her foot to fit it into Cinderalla’s tiny slipper.

  But she relented, lifting her size eleven. “They’re kind of big,” she said, hating how unsure she felt.

  Logan shrugged, beginning to rub the soapy cloth over the top of her foot. “You’re a tall girl. Besides, they’re pretty. No monkey toes. No piggy toes.”

  She smiled. “You’re a strange man. I’ve watched you do some pretty nasty things, and yet you’re so nice.”