by Anna Jeffrey
She left the shower, dried, then went to the vanity mirror to style her hair. As she dried the long tresses, she lamented again how much trouble her long brown hair was. Straight as a string, it hung past the middle of her back. Lately, she wore it in a pony tail more often than not.
She leaned closer to the mirror and checked its condition. The ends were split. She had spent so much time in the pool and dried it so often it had a dried-and-fried look. Pic loved it long and told her often that it looked fine. She loved that he loved it, but she could see for herself it wasn’t in great shape. She had to do something about it.
On the way home, she stopped at the grocery store and picked up a six-pack of beer, a bottle of Chablis and some of Pic’s favorite junk food. He would be having a big meal in Fort Worth, so they would snack for supper.
At her house, she changed the sheets on her bed. Queen-size, it almost filled her bedroom, but she would never part with it. She enjoyed having plenty of room when she slept alone and no way could Pic’s six-feet-three body ever fit into a smaller bed. In fact, the queen-size was almost too small.
She cleaned the bathroom and straightened up the rest of her house. The Craftsman style bungalow was eighty years old. She had inherited it after her dad’s death. He had inherited it from his parents.
Over the years, her dad and mom had modernized the kitchen and installed a walk-in shower in the only bathroom. Amanda herself hadn’t done one thing to it. Until she and Pic had revived their relationship from high school, she had planned to sell it.
She was comfortable in it for now, but who knew about the future?
Chapter 3
After the meal, Drake, his bride and the bride’s grandmother hung around only long enough to say polite good-byes, then left the dining room. Pic followed them, wanting to extend a private good luck message. They all rode the elevator down in silence. Pic didn’t know what else to say. He was having trouble getting past a sense of loss and the feeling that nothing would ever be the same between him and his brother.
Outside, the storm had blown past. Though the sun peeked through the clouds, a sharp breeze pierced bone deep. Pic set his hat on and shook Drake’s hand again. “Have a good trip, Brother.”
“Let me help you into the car,” Shannon said to her grandmother and busied herself installing the tiny woman in the backseat of a Kia SUV that Pic assumed belonged to her. The only vehicles Drake owned were a truck and a fancy sports car that seated two.
“Don’t worry,” Pic said to Drake. “It’ll settle down. You know how Mom is.”
“Believe me, Pic, I’m not worried about Mom. I’ve already told her in no uncertain terms if she can’t respect my wife and be congenial, she’ll never know her grandchild. And I won’t be talked out of that.”
“That would just about kill her, Drake. You know all she’s wanted for years is grandkids.”
“She can take it or leave it. I’ve left it up to her.” He turned his attention to Shannon who had opened the passenger side door. “All set, sweetheart?”
“Grammy’s all belted in.” She smiled and he urged her into the passenger seat, closed the door, then turned back to Pic. “Mom owes Shannon an apology big time, Pic. What she did was unconscionable.”
Pic felt sad for Drake and his new wife and for their mother over all that had happened. He was pissed off at Mom half the time himself over things she did and said, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about her. He nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“You’re her next target,” Drake said, grinning.
“Hah. Not me. I don’t go for all that matchmaking bullshit and she knows it.”
“I didn’t either, but that didn’t stop her.”
“I don’t think she’s worried about me. She knows I’m probably never getting married again. But whatever. I’ll handle it if it happens. Listen, we’ll see you when you get back. Maybe y’all can come down to the ranch after you get situated in Camden. Or I can drive up there.”
“Right,” Drake said. “Let’s plan on it.”
He rounded the front of the SUV and slid behind the wheel. As they drove away, a feeling of emptiness ballooned inside Pic’s rib cage and he felt wetness in his eyes.
He shook off the emotion and returned to the dining room where everybody was in the process of departing. Dad stopped him. “Son, I want you to drive your grandmother back home.”
Grandma lived in a retirement community complex in the town of Drinkwell not too far from where Mandy lived. She had left the ranch soon after Grandpa passed on. She had never said so, but everybody suspected that without Bill Senior at her side, she hadn’t wanted to endure her son’s battles with his wife. “Sure, Dad. You’re not going back to the ranch?”
“Not yet.”
Pic knew what that meant. His dad was either meeting some woman in Fort Worth, or he was going home with Mom who lived alone in a staid old subdivision not far from downtown. Either instance threatened to give Pic a case of indigestion, especially after he had consumed such a heavy meal.
“I’m supposed to ride with Smoky tomorrow,” Dad added. “We were planning to look over the Salt Fork pastures, but I might be up here a few days. You’ll have to do it.”
“I was gonna spend some time in town with Mandy, Dad.”
“That’s okay. Just be back at the ranch by daylight.”
Shit! But Pic voiced no complaint. Keeping abreast of grazing conditions was an integral part of his job.
But that was tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to get on the road. He was horny as a billy goat and Mandy had already told him it was safe for sex, which only added to his edginess.
Finally, he and his elderly grandmother were in his truck, he had shed his necktie and blazer and was maneuvering through the traffic snarl on the way home, ninety miles away. He hated the damn city traffic.
They rode a few miles in silence. Then, “Drake’s wife is a pretty girl.”
Grandma’s got a good eye, Pic thought. Shannon Piper, er, Lockhart, or whatever name she would be using, was much better looking than her pictures on her billboards. “She sure is,” he said.
“As I recall, her grandmother’s husband was a farmer. Seems like Bill Senior bought hay from him, but I can’t remember the details.”
“The hell,” Pic said, then remembered he was talking to his grandmother and caught himself. “I mean, no kidding, Grandma?”
“I’m glad Drake found somebody. I’ve worried about all of you children being alone. Lands, when I was young, you didn’t see men and women over thirty and unmarried. Unless there was a good reason.”
“Changing times, I guess. These days, people don’t get married as soon as they used to.”
Or at all. At least half the people he knew in his age bracket co-habited without a marriage license. But he wouldn’t bring up that conversation with his ninety-year-old grandmother.
“They should,” she said. “Everybody knows the younger animals throw the healthiest offspring.”
Jargon that applied to cattle and horses. Grandma had been born a cattle rancher’s daughter and been a cattle rancher’s wife her whole life. Pic angled a glance at her. “I think she’s the same age as me, Grandma. A couple of years younger than Drake.”
“They’re almost too old to start having children,” she said. “They’re lucky she’s knocked up.”
Knocked up? Good Lord. Was Grandma drunk? Pic winced.
“Drake’s gonna to have to keep her that way for the next several years if they want their family before they’re forty,” Grandma continued. “I hope he’s up to it. I can tell you from experience it gets to be a hard job when you’re older.”
“What do you mean, Grandma?” Pic asked absently, his eyes focused on the rearview mirror and an eighteen-wheeler bearing down on him.
“Trying to get pregnant. It gets to be a chore when it doesn’t work. Bill Senior and I did everything trying to get me pregnant. We didn’t have all this artificial stuff they got now. We even tried
raising the foot of the bed so Bill Senior’s semen wouldn’t run out of me. I was forty before your daddy was born. We worried if he’d turn out okay.”
Pic’s face heated all the way to the tips of his ears. His grandmother was known for saying whatever popped into her head, but he didn’t relish a conversation with her about sex, especially when they were riding in the close quarters of a truck cab and he already had half a hard on.
Indeed Pic’s father was an only child. Pic had never heard anyone say why he had no aunts and uncles on his paternal side and he didn’t intend to ask. “Looks like it worked out fine, Grandma. Dad seems okay to me.”
He and his passenger arrived in the small town of Drinkwell, Texas, population 6,500, with the sun hanging low in the sky. After dropping Grandma off at Arbor House, he drove like a bat out of hell toward Mandy’s house. He had told her to expect him before dark.
As he turned onto her street, she came out the front door of her house onto the wide wooden porch that spanned the front of the house. She gave him a little wave. Seeing her was like swallowing a drink of cool water on a hot day.
He parked in her driveway and paused a few seconds before alighting. She was a pretty woman. She had a killer body that he could already visualize naked. In high school, she had been an athlete and still was. She ran and swam and did aerobics and yoga with a bunch of other women from the school.
The poignancy of the moment, of the day, of the week, even of years, was almost overwhelming. Drake had known his bride a short three months. Pic had known Mandy most of his life. They had been passionately in love for some part of the time they had known each other. Except, that is, for the years they both had been married to somebody else.
Now that they had reunited, their relationship was different from those teenage years. She was his refuge, his rock and his best friend. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Sex between them was hot and great. What more could a man ask for?
He grabbed his blazer and scooted out of his truck, shrugging into the blazer as and strode up onto the porch. She smiled up at him. “Hey, baby,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her to him front to front. “You probably thought I wasn’t gonna make it.”
“No. I know how those things are.”
“Aren’t you cold? It’s kinda chilly out here.” He pulled her arms around his waist and enclosed her inside his blazer.
“I’m okay,” she said, still smiling.
“You sure are. You’re the most okay woman I know.”
She turned out of his arms, opened the screen door, then the front door and they passed through the doorway into her small entry. “Long day?” she asked.
“Thought it would never end. It was weird, too.”
“Want a beer? Want to sit down?”
She locked the front door and his dick got even more excited. He chuckled wickedly. “Nunh-unh. You know what I want. Something tells me you want the same thing.”
She angled a sly look up at him. “You’re such a devil.”
“That’s why I’m fun.” He enfolded her in his arms and clutched her firm little butt. “Man, oh, man, you feel good.” He pulled her closer, bringing her pelvis against his erection. “Feel how hard I am.”
Grinning up at him, she squirmed against him. “Hmm. You certainly are. Lucky me.”
He took her mouth in a deep French kiss. She kissed him back just as ardently. When they broke for breath, he looked into her eyes and walked her backward. All he could think about was burying his dick inside her. “I’ve been thinking about this all day. You know that, don’t you?”
“Uh-huh. Me, too.”
Her calves struck the sofa. He wrapped an arm around her bottom, lifted her and lowered her against a stack of pillows in the sofa corner. She landed in a sprawl, one foot on the floor and the opposite leg cocked against the sofa back. He yanked off his blazer and threw it onto a chair, then followed her down, kneeling on one knee between her legs and hovering above her.
She ran her hands across his shoulders, raised her head and kissed him. “I put clean sheets on the bed. Why don’t we—”
“God, Mandy, I can’t wait another minute.” He shoved her T-shirt up and pulled it over her head. Her bra had ridden up, squeezing her breasts and causing her already peaked nipples to thrust to him.
“Take my bra off,” she said breathily.
He reached behind her, made short work of the flimsy garment. Her back arched, thrusting the smooth orbs up to him. Her breasts weren’t large, but they were more than a handful and perfectly round. For a few beats, he stared at the firm rosy nipples extended an unbelievable length from their even rosier areolas. “Look at that. They’re waiting for me.”
And he knew how sensitive her nipples were. He had made her come doing nothing more than playing with them. “Hmm,” he said, closing his mouth over one.
“Oh, God, I’ve missed this,” she breathed.
He licked and sucked her gently. “I’ve missed it, too, baby,” he mumbled, dragging his mouth to her other nipple. At the same time, he slid his hand down, pushed it under her skirt and his fingers found her sex, hot, drenched, and prepared for him. That function of women’s bodies would fascinate him forever. “Aw, yeah. You’re wet, baby.”
“I know. I should’ve changed my panties.”
He hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled the tiny wisp of fabric past her hips and off, then he pushed her skirt up to her waist. The scent of heated woman rose up to him and his nostrils flared. He moved his eyes up to hers, found them dark and hooded and watching him. He leaned forward, brushed her lips with his and whispered, “My cock’s so swelled up and ready. I can already feel my cum inside you.”
“Then what are we waiting for?”
“Now, now. I want to enjoy every minute of this. I want you to enjoy it, too.”
He trailed a finger up the center of her sex, careful to avoid her clit. He gently parted her swollen lips with his fingertips. held her gaze as he slowly slid his middle finger into her soft wet channel. Her back arched and she made a little sound….“That feel okay, baby?”
Her eyes drifted shut and a tiny frown formed between her brows. “You know it does.”
“I can make it better.” He pulled out his finger, circled her opening with his wet fingertip, spreading her moisture. When he touched her swollen little clit, she shuddered and made another incoherent sound. He slid his finger back inside her, curved it and found the spongy spot inside her. He slowly rubbed. “Is that it, baby?”
“Yesss,” she hissed.
He massaged rhythmically. Unexpectedly, her sex clenched tightly around his finger. A rumble came from her throat and her hips came up from the sofa. He kissed her deeply, drawing her tongue into his mouth and gently sucking until her contractions against his finger stilled. He had never had a woman who climaxed easier than she did.
He lifted his mouth. “Did that surprise you?”
“Oooh, Pic…”
“Did you think I’d forgotten where it is? Just be still. Let me make it better.”
He found the magic spot inside her again, found her clit with the pad of his thumb and slowly circled, rubbing her inside and out.
Her hips churned in rhythm to the movement of his finger. Her teeth clamped together and she began to huff rapidly. He scooted down, replaced his thumb with the tip of his tongue and rapidly swirled. Her vaginal muscles convulsed powerfully against his finger. She cried out, her fists gripping his hair through multiple spasms against his finger. When she finished, he stilled his finger but left it in place. He nuzzled and kissed her sex, then lifted his head and smiled up at her. “Have I told you how much I love making you come?”
“You have to finish what you started,” she panted, open-mouthed.
She always wanted his hard cock after she had climaxed without it.
His control had almost reached its limit. He had been ready to come back around noon. He had to end this before he went off in his shorts. Hang
ing over her, he unzipped and freed his swollen member from its knit confines.
She reached for him, ran her fingers along the length of him. He clenched his teeth and held his breath.
“You feel so nice,” she murmured. “And so hot.” She shoved his shorts all the way past his butt and lifted her knee higher.
His jaw tightened. He took himself in hand and carefully pushed the tip into her. She was so damn tight. And after they had been so long without sex, the last thing he wanted was to cause her pain. Her opening flexed around him. “Sweet Jesus,” he ground out. “Sweet, sweet, sweet….Lift your knee a little higher, baby….”
She did and he gave her his whole cockhead. “Can you take all of it, baby?”
“Yesss.”
She locked her eyes on his, hooked her knee over his shoulder and he easily slid balls deep into the exquisite hot sheath. A powerful quickening answered from deep in his belly. He held it at bay by thinking about football plays. “Oh, man,” he mumbled.
Hanging onto the sofa back with one hand, his opposite foot braced on the floor, he began to slowly pump. In….And in….And in. He counted each time his flesh gloriously glided against hers. He plunged deeply with each thrust, rolling his hips so that the tip of him reached high up inside her and the root of him pressed her clit with each downstroke. She stayed with him, stroke for stroke, caressing his face, his shoulders, cooing her pleasure and moaning softly. At times like this, they connected in a way he had never known before.
Soon, he was pumping hard and fast and had ceased trying to distract his body. They were looking into each other’s eyes, panting and chuffing and lost in the wet friction of his penis moving inside her. The exquisite ripples against his cock started again. She began to make little female grunts. With all his will, he held back until she sobbed out and her sex grabbed him like a greedy fist. He held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut while she milked him with strong contractions.
