by Zoey Marcel
Danielle turned more in her seat to face him. “People can love more than one person at a time.”
“No, they can’t.”
“Yes, they can.”
“No, they can’t.”
He wondered if she’d ever supposedly been in love with more than one person at once or at least thought she had. It was either that or she was just being stubborn. Basically a woman convinced she was right. This would probably end with him pretending to be wrong just to end the dispute.
Like hell it would. He was right. Bring it.
“Just because people from your town don’t understand—what are you doing?” she demanded.
He pulled over and then parked. “I don’t like driving during an argument. Say your piece, and then I’ll explain to you why you’re wrong.”
“Oh!” Her indignant sound almost brought a smile to his face. “Well, I know people.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s great. I know people, too.”
“Yeah, self-righteous assholes and judgmental preachers.”
“Well, it’s better than the priest from your town who recently got engaged to a woman that he’s sharing with his three brothers and their friend. That’s messed up, and so is anyone who thinks fucking everything in sight is love or a good example of religion.”
“Oh yeah? Well, it’s better than having a bunch of slap-happy dickheads attack people for loving someone with the same packaging.”
“At least people in Stone River are giving and volunteer their time to help the needy.”
“Well, so do the citizens of McKenna Downs.”
“Then what the hell are we arguing about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is that your dream, to have a billion husbands?”
“Maybe it is. What do you care? You gonna beat them up?”
“I’m thinking I might for taking you away from me.”
Her full lips tugged at the corners, and her brown eyes shone with emotion. “Are you jealous of my imaginary husbands?”
“I’m thinking I am. I saved you. The entire town doesn’t get to have you.”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous. Still…” She scooted closer, purring. “Don’t you think it might be a little bit hot to have a threesome?”
His irritation subsided. “I don’t know. It might be kind of sexy to see you experiencing all that pleasure with a couple of guys.”
Her smile broadened. “You’re kind of hot when you’re angry.”
“You’re hot all the time.”
He brushed his hand over her cheek and then leaned in for a kiss. Her mouth opened to receive his tongue, bathing him in wet, satiny heat. He unbuckled, and she followed suit, sliding across the seat to get closer to him. He put his arms around her and tongued her slowly, deeply. Her hand pawing gently at his chest made his nipples firm.
When he slid his hand slowly up her thigh, she played along and started groping his inner thigh. His cock jerked in his pants.
He quickened his hand’s ascent and glided his palm up her bare thigh under her dress to settle on her panties. The womanly heat between her smooth legs warmed his hand and snagged a tiny breath of delight from her.
She lightly palmed his lap, running her hand along the hard length of his dick. The shaft tightened with need, aching for her silky touch.
His hand dipped into her panties, and he held an arm around her back to secure her when she jolted in his hold. He deepened the kiss, swallowing her pleasured gasp.
He moaned in her mouth when she quickly unfastened his belt buckle and then worked open his fly. His faint cry evaporated in her mouth when she grasped his erection in her soft hand and slowly began to stroke him.
His fingers trailed through her steamy wetness, teasing open her sex lips and playing in her juices. Her tiny whimpers fueled his ego, and he kept going. Her hand pumping his cock lightly made his balls tingle with the need for release.
Danielle broke the kiss. “Do you want me to take them off?”
“Shh. No.” He moved his fingers higher, whispering the tips over her smooth sex. Her breathy noise of surrender made him grin. “Just be a good girl and come in your panties for me.”
She moaned and peppered delicate kisses on his lips. “That sounds really hot, but I don’t have a spare pair with me. I’ll be a mess when I get there.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re gonna do what I tell you to and come hard in your panties for me.”
She gasped when he pierced a finger into her wet channel, sliding through her silken heat.
“Aren’t you?”
He followed the question up with pushing the rest of his digit inside her, drawing a feeble cry of arousal from her.
“Yeah,” she breathed.
He used his nose to nuzzle her face while he fucked his finger up inside her.
“God, Heath.” She held on to him.
“Don’t you let go of my cock,” he warned.
“Sorry.” She gripped his length and worked him over in her hand again.
“Good girl.” His soft kiss behind her ear stole the breath from her. “Like I said, you’re gonna come for me in your panties and wear them like a dirty girl.”
Her long moan sounded like she was being tortured by the finger he had nudging her clitoris. The nub felt so soft. The longer he played with it, the harder it got, like his penis that she groped.
He struggled to keep talking filthy to her, overwhelmed by the growing sensations in his body that were strongest in his groin.
“They’ll be so fucking wet. Your pussy will be pulsing and leaking cream all over your panties, but you’ll have to deal with it and wear them…because a man told you to. And you have to do whatever a man tells you to, don’t you?”
Danielle panted through broken whimpers. “Oh God, please. It feels so good.”
“You quit stroking my cock again, I’m gonna spank you.”
Moaning, she jerked his erection again. He had to smile when he felt her cunt pulsing slick heat all over his finger. Apparently she loved to be bossed around in bed. He was happy to indulge her. He liked topping in bed sometimes, with one exception.
A decade ago, someone had kissed him, rubbed him through his jeans until he was hard and achy. He’d pleaded to come, but the person had owned him, spewing dominant words to him and coaxing him to fondle them back through their clothes while they made out. They’d both come so hard from it. He hadn’t known he could enjoy bottoming for someone, but he had that one time. Not once since then. No one else had summoned that carnal urge in him.
This woman here with him now triggered all sorts of wild cravings in him, the need to feel her body against his, the interest in the things she said, the instinct to protect her, and the unquenchable need to show the pistol that he was in charge. He was the man, damn it, and she was the sexy angel he wanted by his side and in his bed.
“Answer the question, Danielle.” Heath clipped his tone, knowing it would turn her on all the more.
Sure enough, she got even wetter and let out sobs of pleasure as she quivered in his arms. “W–What?”
“Look at me.”
She met his gaze, looking vulnerable and stunning as hell.
“What do you have to do?”
Her pussy clenched on his finger. His dick hardened in her hand at the snug heat sucking on his finger.
“Whatever you tell me to,” she whispered shakily.
“You want to come?”
Swallowing, she nodded with closed eyes.
“Look at me, sugar.”
She obeyed, pre-orgasmic tremors visibly taking hold of her.
“I’m gonna come first because I’m the man.” He cracked a toothy grin at her annoyed protest.
“Oh no,” she whined when he stopped thrusting his finger inside her, quit rubbing her engorged clit.
“You thought I was kidding, didn’t you?”
He loved pretending to be a 1950s chauvinist in bed. Most of the women seemed to go crazy over it.
Danielle appeared to be losing it as well.
“I meant it, Danielle. You don’t come until I do.”
She glowered at him playfully. “Fine, if that’s the way you’re gonna be. Come already.”
He chortled, then quickly grunted when she pumped his dick fast in her hand. Her smug expression, like she, too, enjoyed pretending to have a power trip by conquering the other sex, was like a challenge to him. He’d have her admitting to the superiority of men after this, and she would come hard from submitting to that.
Heath exploded in her grasp, cock throbbing and spewing hot gushes of semen onto her hand. Jism splattered on his free palm that he used to block it.
She snickered. “I like how you tried to keep all your cum on me.”
He chuckled breathlessly. “The woman wears the cum.”
He was kidding, of course. Her phony glare and humored smile said she knew that. Her spunk-covered hand aiming for his face freaked him out, though.
“Shit! No.”
She stopped before her hand touched him. Both laughed a little.
“Well?”
“Not bad.”
Her mouth fell open, and she snorted in offense. “Excuse me?”
He laughed and wiped himself off with napkins in the holder built into his door. “I was just messing with you. That was fucking incredible.”
“That’s better. My turn.”
“Not until I say you can.”
She groaned, sighing a little when he kissed her behind the ear. Slowly, he rolled her plump clitoris in erotic circles that had her pushing into his finger. The digit he had lodged up inside her began a steady fuck again, eliciting hot slickness that coated his finger.
“You can come when you admit that men are in charge and you have to do whatever we tell you to.” Heath wiggled his eyebrows at her and grinned at her annoyed pretense. “That’s the only way you’re coming.”
“See if I do.”
He stimulated her clit faster, dragging a breathy cry from her. The finger he had thrusting in her vagina maintained a slow fuck. Both appeared to drive her out of her mind with lust.
“Please.”
“Say what I told you to say. What do you have to do, Danielle?”
She trembled in his arms, her pussy quivering around his finger. “Whatever men tell me to do.”
“Good girl. Now come in your panties for me like a dirty girl.”
Her features distorted with rapture and she cried out as she came in her panties for him. Her cunt latched onto his finger, squeezing it in desperation, pouring hot cream all over him. She jolted at the end, her breaths coming in uneven pants.
A feeble whimper and a little jerk of her body resulted when he pulled his finger out of her channel and then her underwear. He slurped it clean, moaning in approval when he tasted how good her flavor was.
“That was amazing.”
He nodded once, leaning forward a little as if bowing at applause. “Thank you. Hey.”
She pulled her hand back with a guilty smile when he caught her reaching for the glove compartment.
“No napkins, remember. You’re gonna wear your sticky, wet panties all day and think of me.”
A subtle blush tinged her cheeks, and she looked positively radiant in the afterglow. “Okay.”
He started the engine and then pulled back out onto the road again. “Is your pussy pulsing and spilling cream into your panties?”
This time she blushed deeper and bit her lip in another small way that added to her natural look of innocence.
“Yeah,” she said shyly.
“Good. Who’s the man now?” he teased.
She laughed. “You are most definitely the man, but I had you writhing and pleading for a minute there when I was touching you.”
“Hey.” He pointed a finger in the air while he drove. “There might have been writhing, but I distinctly recall maintaining masculine dignity by not begging.”
She gave him a cute smirk. “Whatever you’ve got to tell yourself, Heath.”
He liked her. Their conversations over the next few hours during the drive only reaffirmed his interest in her.
He couldn’t tell her who he really was—the youngest son of a preacher in Stone River that she seemed to despise. Nor would he divulge that he was the one responsible for what happened to Heller Enos ten years ago. It had been a mistake, and he’d had legitimate reasons for doing so, even though he still hated himself for that. He hadn’t had a choice.
He wasn’t that man anymore. He’d changed. A part of him wished he would bump into Heller again just so he could explain what had happened and apologize for it.
There was another part of him that couldn’t bear the thought of ever looking the alpha male in the eye again for all the remorse he felt inside.
Maybe it was better to just leave the past alone. He didn’t know where Heller and his brother, Kale, had moved away to. Hell, he’d probably never see the man again. That made him sad, but it was probably for the best.
Heath knew that if he ever wanted to see Danielle again, she could never know. It was just friends hanging out, or maybe even some dating. It wasn’t like they were getting married. And really, as long as they kept their social visits with each other outside of Stone River, how would she ever know who he really was?
Chapter Three
Danielle hopped down from the truck when Heath came to a stop in front of her older brother, Dominic’s, house in McKenna Downs.
“Thank you for everything,” she said.
“It was my pleasure.” Heath hesitated. “Mind if I have your phone number…in case you need anything?”
You mean like you?
She smiled sadly. “I don’t actually have a cell phone.”
His facial features contorted in a quirky display that made him look cute and loveable. “Who doesn’t have a cell phone in this day and age?”
“I know, right? I had one, but I think Gavin took it after he locked me up. My guess is he smashed it to pieces. He left my purse and identification alone, though. Not sure why.”
“How about if I give you my number, and then when you get a new cell phone, we can text each other?”
Her smile spread wider, the sadness gone. “I’d like that.”
After he wrote it down for her and they said good-bye, Heath drove off, and she walked through the gate up to her brother’s house. She rang the doorbell and waited, but there was no answer. Dominic must have been at work or out somewhere.
She walked back down the steps. After clearing the gate and locking it, she bumped into someone.
“Oh, sorry, miss.”
The hunky guy looked to be about twenty-five and keenly familiar. She took in the details of his young appearance. His hair was light blond like hers, except his was short with texture on top that would be fun to play with. Cornflower-blue eyes scrutinized her for a minute as if in vague recollection.
The realization hit them at the same time.
“Brighton?”
She squinted at him in disbelief. The once-fifteen-year-old youngest son of Alan McAlister wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was all grown up and somehow even more attractive than when they’d gone to high school together, if that was possible.
Brighton gaped at her for a moment. “Danielle.”
A few seconds’ pause followed. Then he reached for her, pulled her close, and plastered his mouth on hers in a fast, excited kiss. She squealed in surprise. Well, that most certainly hadn’t been the greeting she’d been expecting.
Before his wet, eager tongue could spear into her mouth, she pulled back. “What was that for?”
He grinned. “Like you don’t know.”
When he turned his head, she got a profile view of him that was equally appetizing. His slender features were more toned than before, with lean muscle. He stood at about six feet tall, and his nose sloped with a tiny rise on the end like a ski jump. It blended well with his other features in a young male look that was distinctly Brighton McAlis
ter.
He whistled for somebody and then pointed to Danielle.
She looked over in time to see someone in his thirties approaching. It took all of half a second for her to recognize him. It was Brighton’s eldest brother, David, the kindest and gentlest of the trio of Alan McAlister’s sons.
David had a more reasonable reaction when he reached her. He threw his arms around her in a giant hug she gladly returned. She’d missed them both so much.
“God, it’s been too long,” he told her while holding her.
She squeezed him tighter. “I know. I missed you guys both so much. It’s been years since—”
Her words were cut off by David’s mouth swooping down over hers. Her squeal was soaked up by his tongue sliding into her mouth to tangle with hers. Wicked sparks ignited from the searing twists and slippery, primal massaging of his tongue humping hers.
She pushed against his chest, and he released her like a gentleman, seeming puzzled but still grinning when she stumbled backward a little.
“Is this the new greeting around here—greet thy brother with a holy kiss?”
The guys laughed in unison.
“No, pumpkin, just for you,” David said, giving her a caring smile.
The pet name touched her, but she still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.
Brighton was beaming. “We told you we wanted you.”
Now she was even more puzzled. “When?”
“As soon as possible,” he replied, eyebrows waggling.
She tried not to blush, still baffled. “No. I meant when did you say you wanted me.”
“In the letter,” Brighton explained.
“What letter?”
“The letter I sent you, telling you to come home to the three men who love you.”
Her heart moved with warmth, clenching with fondness. “I never got a letter from you.”
“What?” Brighton face-palmed himself. “After all the trouble I went to, making it sound all poetic and signing David’s name just to play it safe, and you never got it?”
She shook her head.
“Well, that just figures.”
“Why did you sign David’s name?”
