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BuckingHard

Page 5

by Darah Lace


  Despite his tight hold, she strained to press a kiss on his cock. He relaxed his fingers to keep from hurting her. Not because he desperately wanted her to convince him he was wrong. That they’d be all right. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

  “I know you don’t think of me as you do the other women you fuck.” Her tongue once again began its winding bath around the crown of his cock. “But, Mason, I just had the most amazing sex and I think you enjoyed it too.”

  That was an understatement. He’d enjoyed it way too much.

  “I promise I’ll try to be as good as they are.” She kissed him again, dipping her tongue into his slit. “To make you feel as good as they do.”

  God, if she only knew how much better she was than any of the others. There was no one like her. Never would be. “You can’t compare yourself to them.”

  Her tongue stalled and she released him with a soft pop. Her head remained bowed, her silky hair a veil around her face. “No, it’s silly, but…I need this night. Something to remember when I’m gone.”

  Gone? “Where are you—ah, god.”

  Plush wet lips surrounded his cock, robbing him of thought. Her velvety tongue pillowed his engorged head for a moment then thrust him against the roof of her mouth. She bobbed her head, rocking him from the back of her teeth to just shy of her throat. A low hum vibrated down his shaft and into his balls.

  “Ah, fuck, yeah.” His hips bowed off the bed. He needed to go… “Deeper.”

  She angled her head and sucked him to the back of her throat, her cheeks compressing to make the fit snug. Fiery tendrils snaked along his spine. Fuck, what was he thinking? He’d never last if she kept this up. And when he came, he wanted to be inside her.

  “Stop.” Letting go of her hair, he framed her head and pulled her from his dick as he sat up.

  “No,” she cried and struggled to recapture him, but he drew her face toward his lips.

  “Shh, come here, baby.” He tilted her head and slanted his mouth over hers. The talented tongue that had stroked his cock seconds ago now stroked his tongue. Tasting her sweetness, he savored the unique flavor of Bradi. The edge of her teeth, the softness of her gums, the hot hollow of her cheeks, he traced them all. He couldn’t get enough.

  The hand around his cock fell away only to return and cap the blunt tip with a condom. She rolled it down his throbbing shaft then crawled up his body until her knees settled on either side of his hips and her pussy hovered above his cock.

  Flesh to flesh, her soft skin invited his touch. He banded his arms around her waist, pressing her closer. Her arms wound around his neck as she lowered herself onto his broad crown. Simultaneous moans echoed around the room and the kiss deepened, slowed, mimicking the leisurely glide of her tight cunt over his dick.

  When her ass finally rested against his balls, she broke the kiss with not so gentle nips to his lips, along his jaw and at his earlobe. She dragged the sensitive flesh through her teeth, giving it a sharp tug as it slipped free. Her warm breath teased the shell. “Feels so good.”

  Mason shuddered from both the slight pain of her bite and the gentle suckling that followed. He leaned away to look at her. As much as he loved the feel of her breasts mashed against his chest, he wanted to watch her move. To see her body’s naturally fluid motion as she rode his cock.

  Reaching for her hands, he extricated her fingers from his hair. He kissed her palms, then lowered their linked hands to her hips and lay back on the bed. “Ride me.”

  Her eyes glazed over at his demand, and with a toss of her blonde mane, she rose to her knees until only the head of his cock remained inside her. Then she slowly sank, impaling herself, sheathing him like a tight-fisted glove. His heart pounded and a rush of adrenaline coursed through his body as he watched her glistening pussy lips swallow his shaft.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” He slid his hands to her thighs and relaxed into the mattress. “Just like that, baby.”

  Muscle flexed beneath his fingers as once again she traveled up, rocking forward and arching her back, then down, rolling her hips back. Her pace increased a fraction, but the lazy, undulating rhythm of her pelvis continued. She rode him as if he were a slow-bucking bronc.

  Fingers spread, her slender hands slithered over her belly and ribs, grazing the underside of her breasts. She cupped the generous mounds in both hands, lifting, weighing them. Her thumbs circled the cherry nipples. She pinched the beaded tips between her fingers and thumbs. The plump berries reddened, making his mouth water for a taste.

  A moan escaped her throat, drawing his gaze to her face. Sultry green eyes stared into his, watching his reaction to her seductive performance. The slide of her pink tongue over even pinker lips sent a jolt to his groin. His hips bucked, ramming his cock deep on her downward glide. Air hissed through her teeth and she bit her lower lip.

  “You like that.”

  “Mmm, I like it all.”

  He bucked again.

  A little cry rippled past her lips. “Harder.”

  Mason dug his heels into the bed, his fingers into her thighs, and drove his dick into her slick passage, harder. She laughed as she nearly tumbled forward, then braced her hands on his chest and slammed backward. “Aah, Mason.”

  He tried not to listen to her voice or the tiny mewling sounds she made. They wrecked his concentration, and it was all he could do to focus on meeting her plunge with his thrust and hold off the fiery cum churning in his balls at the same time. The ride was rough, but he loved it. Loved that she loved it. Loved her.

  Loved her?

  God, is that what he’d been fighting these past few weeks? Mason stilled as the answer ricocheted through his system. He was in love with her. With Bradi. His best friend. Had been for a while, probably all his life. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it. The attraction wasn’t just about sex. It was about everything Bradi was, who she was. Sweet, stubborn, tough and gentle.

  A heady warmth spread throughout his chest as he looked up at her. She’d slowed her rhythm and was studying him with cautious uncertainty. He reached to push the hair from her eyes.

  “What?” She slid to a stop. “Am—am I doing something wrong?”

  “No.” He palmed her cheeks. “You’re perfect.”

  “Then why’d you stop?”

  “So I could do this.” He sat up halfway to capture her lips, then the rest of the way when she melted into his kiss with a whimper. He banded one arm around her waist to keep the connection deep and tight while he molded the other hand to a breast. In a slow sensual dance of tongue, teeth and lips, he made love to her mouth and coaxed those tiny guttural sounds from her throat.

  When he scraped the pad of his thumb over her distended nipple, she tore her mouth from his. “Mason.”

  His name on her lips, heavy with the pleasure he brought her, was better than anything he’d ever accomplished. He could live on nothing but the sound of it.

  Trailing wet kisses down her neck to the dip in her collarbone, he bent her backward over his arm, then swept his tongue over the sweet berry. He nipped and licked, then drew the tasty treat into his mouth. As he rolled the opposite nipple between his finger and thumb, he sucked.

  Her hips jerked, grinding against his groin. His cock twitched, making her tremble. She sighed, then drove her fingers into his hair and anchored him to her. “More. Harder.”

  With every intention of giving her what she needed, Mason sucked her deeper, harder, his tongue massaging her nipple against the roof of his mouth. Her lips parted and her head dropped back. The tips of her hair tickled his fingers. He reached higher and wound a thick strand around his fisted hand.

  “Mmm, yes.” Her hips began to rock. The muscles of her cunt clamped around his shaft.

  Mason grunted his approval and gyrated with her. Their pace quickened. Her moans grew louder. With every rotation, the scent of her arousal wafted between them, filling his nostrils. He couldn’t inhale enough.

  A zing of energy jolted down his spine.
He was close. Too close. But she had to come first.

  Sliding the hand on her breast down her belly to the saturated curls, he slid a finger between swollen folds then watched her face as he circled her clit.

  “Oh.” She jerked and tried to lift her head, but his grip in her hair locked her in place. He rubbed across the plump nub. Her pussy clenched. “Oh god, Mason. I’m going to come.”

  Fighting his need to beat her to that sweet ride, he released her breast with a slow drag through his teeth and rasped, “Go on, baby. Let loose.”

  She tossed her head. “I can’t. I need to…”

  “What do you need, Bradi. Tell me.”

  “I need to…” She shook her head again and ground her teeth so hard her jaw ticked.

  Earlier, when he’d pounded into her from behind, he’d been aware of her struggle to reach orgasm, heard her plea for some unnamed need. Then she’d sunk her teeth into the bedding and her cunt had rippled around his dick as she climaxed.

  “Bite?” He turned loose of her hair. “You need to bite something?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  Mason pulled her upright and against him. “Then bite me.”

  Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and clamped her teeth onto his shoulder muscle. Pain lanced down his chest into his groin. Fire blazed from his balls through his shaft and hot cum spewed into the condom. Her tight cunt spasmed, milking another ribbon of pleasure from him. And then another.

  On and on, ecstasy pulsed within Mason. He clung to her until the last wave subsided. Until her teeth relaxed and she turned her head to lay her cheek on his shoulder. Until her fingers loosened and slipped from his hair. Until her breath evened out and he knew she was asleep.

  “I love you, Bradi Kincaid.”

  Hearing the words out loud made them real. Saying them felt right. Natural. It didn’t matter that she didn’t hear them. He’d tell her tomorrow. He’d wake her up, make love to her until she shattered in his arms, and then he’d tell her how he felt. He had no doubt she felt the same. He’d seen it in her eyes. And not just tonight. He just hadn’t recognized it before.

  Hell, he’d been so stupid. But he’d make up for it.

  If it took the rest of their lives.

  Chapter Four

  The pink of dawn slipped beneath the shades, filling the room with its rosy hue, warning Bradi she’d lingered too long. She had to get up. Mason would wake soon.

  The morning after was always awkward, but facing Mason after what she’d done last night…well, she just couldn’t do it. God, she’d begged and pleaded, then practically—no, she had literally jumped his bones.

  Still, she lay in the warmth of his arms, her back flush against his chest. The rise and fall of his deep, even breathing lulled her into a false sense of belonging, as if she were meant to be exactly where she was. Here, in his bed, with one muscled arm pillowing her head, the other draped over her waist, his hand cupping her breast, his heavy thigh wedged between hers.

  Sex with Mason had been amazing. Her only regret was the means by which she’d driven him to it. And that things would never again be the same between them. She’d ruined their friendship and couldn’t bear to stick around and watch him pretend she hadn’t.

  The PRCA wanted her yesterday, and though she’d hoped to spend more time with her family, last night made that impossible. The sooner she left town the better. She’d book a flight for Denver today. Which meant she’d have to break the news to Doc this morning.

  With a heavy heart, Bradi eased her leg from beneath Mason’s. A grunt vibrated from his chest and down her back. His arm tightened. She held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t wake.

  Gradually, his grip on her breast loosened and his hand slipped to the mattress. Lifting his arm, she slithered from under him to kneel on the cool wood planks, then lowered his hand to the bed. Her gaze swept the room in search of her dress and heels. She located them on the chair across from the bed and crept on tiptoe to gather them, then headed for the door. She’d dress in the hall or downstairs.

  As she passed the dresser, she spotted the keys to his truck and grabbed them. The clink of metal reverberated through the silence. A swish of movement on the sheets followed.

  Bradi froze. Afraid to look, she waited on trembling legs. A breathy sigh whispered over her, and she couldn’t resist one last look.

  He’d shifted to his stomach, both arms above his head. Chestnut hair curled at the base of his neck, the top of his ear and over his brow. Long lashes fanned his chiseled cheekbone and full lips parted on another exhale. Sinewy strength lay beneath the tanned flesh of his back and shoulders, narrowing to his waist and the dimples at the base of his spine. The sheet covered the rest, but Bradi knew well what it hid and would never forget.

  Turning away, she stepped into the hall and slipped her dress over her head, then quietly padded down the stairs to the kitchen. She left a note to let him know she had taken his truck and where it would be, then let herself out the back door. His truck started with a low purr as if it, too, thought she was doing the right thing in going, and was aiding her in leaving undetected.

  But as she rolled down the drive, the lump in her throat grew and tears welled in her eyes. She tried to swallow and blink the moisture away. She sniffed. “This is the right thing.”

  He’ll wake and be relieved I’m gone.

  And maybe a bit guilty. His honor and their friendship would demand some token attempt at making her feel she was more than a one-night stand. He did care about her, after all. And now that she thought about it, he’d probably be mad that she hadn’t given him a chance to play the good guy. But he’d get over it and eventually forget last night.

  Unfortunately, she never would.

  * * * * *

  Mason hummed to the tune on the radio and turned up the drive to Bradi’s house. He’d had Cal drive him into town to get his truck, hoping she’d still be at the Lucky Draw, chatting it up with Lindsey.

  He’d been pissed at Bradi’s note, with no mention of last night or seeing him later. Just “Borrowed your truck. It’s at the Lucky Draw. Keys under the mat. Bradi.” But then he’d smiled. Short and to the point. That was his Bradi.

  And nothing, not even her absence from his bed when he woke, could have spoiled his mood. He’d showered and shaved, excited to see her again but wanting to look his best when he told her he loved her. He couldn’t wait to see the surprise on her face and, more importantly, the love he’d seen in her eyes last night. The same love that had been there all these years but he’d been too blind to see.

  He had it all planned. They’d take a walk down to the lake behind her house. He’d kiss her under the willow tree then pull her down to sit between his legs, her back against his chest, and they’d make plans for a future together.

  She’d finish her internship with Doc and take over his practice, just like she planned. But she’d come home to him every evening and they’d talk about the day they’d had. And the nights…having Bradi in his bed every night for the rest of his life…

  His balls tingled and his cock stretched against his fly. Maybe they’d go back to his place to make those plans.

  A smile tugging at his lips, Mason pulled up to the Kincaid home and killed the engine. He glanced at the row of vehicles, Bradi’s car not among them. He shrugged and winced, feeling the tenderness where she’d sunk her teeth into him when she shattered. His smile deepened to a stupid grin. She’d marked him with that bite, branded him. He was hers as surely as she was his.

  Jumping out of the truck, he trotted up the steps to the porch and knocked on the front door. He didn’t have anywhere to be except with her so he’d wait. Besides, it’d been a while since he’d had a good visit with Jenny and Mike. They’d been as close to parents as he’d ever have after his mom and dad died, and he hadn’t been out to see them much since Bradi left for A&M.

  The door opened and Mike Kincaid answered the door, looking tired and more than a little disgruntled. />
  “Bradi here?” he asked when Mike didn’t say anything. Mason couldn’t imagine Bradi telling her dad where she’d spent the night or what they’d done, but if she had, Mason would assure the man he aimed to marry his daughter.

  “Who is it?” Jenny’s soft voice called from the kitchen.

  Mike’s frown deepened as he opened the door wider. “Come on in.” He turned toward the back of the house. “It’s Mason.”

  Mason stepped inside and shut the door behind him as Jenny hurried through the arched doorway, bringing with her the tantalizing aroma of chocolate chip cookies. He smiled. “Something smells good.”

  Mike sank into the recliner. “She’s been baking since sunrise.”

  “Oh, hush.” Jenny wiped her hands on her apron and leaned into Mason for a quick hug. When she pulled back, Mason saw the red rimming her eyes and staining her nose. She always had a cookie jar full, but excessive baking meant something was worrying her.

  Guilt stampeded through Mason like a herd of scared longhorns. He hadn’t thought to call them last night and let them know Bradi was safe. But she might not have told them she was with him either. “Bradi did get home this morning?”

  “Oh, yeah. She spent the night with Lindsey.” A jittery smile lay at odds with the moisture in her eyes. “Said she did a bit too much celebrating and didn’t want to try to drive.”

  Mason nodded, a little uncertain how to proceed. He’d obviously stumbled into some family drama. “She home?”

  “No, but you’re welcome to wait.” She sniffed and motioned to the couch.

  He hated to intrude but he didn’t want to miss Bradi either. “I can wait on the porch.”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. Sit down.” She shooed him with one hand. “Would you like some lunch?”

  “No, ma’am, I’m not hungry. But thank you.” He turned back to the door, intent on waiting outside. His gaze fell on two suitcases beside the door. Bradi’s suitcases. He’d loaded and unloaded them often enough those first few years when she left and came home from school. His breath hung in his throat and dread weighed heavy in his gut. “Where’s Bradi?”

 

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