Shaken, Not Stirred

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Shaken, Not Stirred Page 24

by Sawyer Bennett


  I should just tell him I love him. I should do it so it makes him feel better. So that I reciprocate what he's so willingly given me, so that he feels the same warm flood of comfort that comes with such a simple little phrase.

  But I can't.

  If I did it right in this moment, it would seem contrived. It would seem convenient.

  It would not seem genuine.

  And I want to be genuine with Tenn. I want him to know that I am the person that will always greet him with total transparency with my feelings.

  I want him to know that I will be his constant... his anchor.

  But before I can give that to him, I have to make sure that I'm strong enough and committed enough to offer that up. And that is something I'm still not quite sure of at this point.

  Chapter 26

  Tenn

  I lead Whiskey out of the barn and look up to the bright Wyoming sky. For the funeral yesterday, it was overcast and dreary. Perfect weather by which to shed tears as we lowered my father into the ground next to my mom. Casey stood silently by my side, her arm wrapped around my waist and gently rubbing me in comfort, while Zoey stood next to me with my own arm wrapped tight around her. I didn't bother trying to stay composed because I've never been one to quiet my emotions. Whether I'm angry or happy, sad or pensive, I'm the type that wears my emotions on my sleeve. Didn't bother me in the least to have to wipe the grief away from my face as I said my final goodbyes. Touched me deeply that Casey was wiping away tears of grief too, not for my father, because she didn't know him at all.

  They were all for me.

  Because I was suffering.

  And yet today, the sky is a bright blue a little deeper than aquamarine and makes me think of Casey's eyes. Thick, fluffy clouds hang in place but in no way block the sun so that the snow on top of the Tetons sparkles like gemstones have been scattered all around. It's in the mid-seventies, and the smell of horse and hay smells damn good in my nose. It's why I want to get a quick ride in before Casey wakes up.

  The last few days have been difficult for sure. Zoey arrived with Brianna the day after Casey and I got here. My little girl is devastated and when she wasn't clinging to me, she was actually clinging to Casey. I know Brianna isn't close to her daughter the way I am, and that's pretty much due to the fact that Brianna loves herself far more than she could ever love anyone else. But I also know that she does love Zoey in her capacity as a mother, and so I also know it was difficult for her to see Zoey gravitating toward my woman. This threatened Bri on two points... because she feels proprietary toward her daughter as well as me, and Casey had both of our attention.

  And it was only a matter of time before Brianna's claws came out and she started a verbal attack on Casey. Woolf and I had been in Dad's office a few hours before the funeral was to start, looking through some of his ledgers, and we came out to hear Brianna's shrill voice say, "You don't belong here. This is a family gathering."

  We both grimaced at each other and headed toward the great room to stop Hurricane Brianna before she could really get going.

  There is no doubt in my mind that Casey could have wiped the floor with Brianna. There's no doubt in my mind that Casey has a sharper tongue than Brianna could ever imagine. And there was also no doubt in my mind that Casey would do nothing to escalate the situation, so as we walked into the room, Woolf and I watched as she just turned and walked away, heading toward the hall that would lead to my room.

  It was then I noticed Kip sitting on one of the leather couches, looking completely dismayed and frustrated with Brianna. Why the guy puts up with that shit is beyond me, but hell... I can't judge. I put up with it for years.

  Brianna turned toward Kip and sneered. "I can't believe that woman is trying to ingratiate herself into our family. She's probably after Tenn's money."

  Yeah... fury rose and my hands fisted. But before I could even open my mouth to say anything, Woolf stormed past me and stalked right up to Brianna. To my utter shock, he got up in her face, causing her to take two surprised steps back where her legs caught the edge of the couch and she fell down into a sitting position on the cushions.

  Woolf's face was red and his eyes were glowing, yet his words were calm. He stared at Brianna but addressed Kip with his words. "Get your woman and get her out of this house. And don't ever let her come back here."

  Kip jumped up with a grateful look on his face, but Brianna wasn't having any of it. "You can't kick me out of this home. It's Tenn's too, and we share a daughter together."

  Woolf merely sneered at Brianna and with a harsh laugh, he said, "This is Tenn and Zoey's home, but it is not yours. You lost that right when my brother divorced your vicious ass. And just so we're clear... this is my home too. Casey is my guest as well as Tenn's and because you can't keep your mouth shut, you just lost any further right to be a guest in this house."

  Brianna started to lay into Woolf but luckily, Kip grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out quickly. Fortuitously, Zoey had not been around to witness that. Even luckier, Brianna was amazingly subdued at the funeral and kept her lips zipped.

  Once Bri and Kip were gone from the house, I turned and looked at Woolf in amazement. It was the first time I caught a glimpse of the man he had actually become and for the first time since Dad died, I started to believe that Woolf might actually have something inside of him that could be strong enough to be a leader.

  Woolf merely shrugged his shoulders and gave me a wry smile. "What can I say? I see the way you look at your woman. She's already part of this family."

  I suppressed the insane urge that overcame me to hug my brother, instead giving him a grateful nod and headed off to find Casey to make sure she was all right.

  And, of course, she was. She had amazing compassion, even for Brianna, and merely said she understood it was a difficult time for everyone.

  It takes me no time at all to get Whiskey saddled. He's a calm, five-year-old gelding quarter horse that's a gorgeous, pale buckskin with black stockings, tail, and mane.

  "Hey stud," I hear softly, turning to see Casey walking up toward me.

  And what a fucking vision she is. I had brought her into Jackson day before yesterday and couldn't resist buying her a pair of cowboy boots and a feminine, cream-colored Stetson. She's wearing them both paired with a beautiful summer dress with little blue flowers all over it that flares wide and comes down to just above her knees. The cowgirl look is complete with two, long golden braids draped over her breasts.

  "You're up early," I comment as my eyes drag down her again.

  She shrugs her shoulders as she steps up to me, taking a hand and running it down my ribs, where her fingers tuck into the edge of my belt. "Going for a ride?"

  "Yeah," I tell her as I tighten the cinch. "Want to come with me?"

  I can tell the idea interests her, but her eyes look at the horse warily. "I'm not so good around beasts that big. Present company excluded, of course."

  I snort, and she shoots me a wicked smile.

  "You can ride with me," I tell her. "You'll be completely safe."

  She accepts that as truth and tentatively reaches out to stroke Whiskey on the neck. "Do I need to go get changed?"

  "Nah," I tell her, more for my benefit than hers. I'm very much looking forward to that skirt hiked up a bit and miles of glorious, bare leg draped over the horse. "I'll put a blanket under you though. I don't want anything rubbing the insides of your thighs raw but the beard on my face."

  "Dirty man," she says with a low, sexy laugh.

  It's not easy mounting two people into a western saddle. Ordinarily, I'd plunk her on the back behind the saddle, but I know she won't feel as secure and I don't want her scared. So I use a mounting block to haul her up onto my lap, positioning an extra saddle blanket underneath her legs. As expected, her dress does indeed ride up but it's so loose that it only comes to mid-thigh, which is fortuitous because there are tons of other ranch hands milling about and I don't want them ogling my woman.

 
; With an arm around her waist and the other holding the reins loosely, I let Whiskey walk slowly away from the barn and direct him over to one of the riding trails. With thousands and thousands of acres available, we have dozens of places we can go, but I decide to head toward a small lake we have on the property about two miles away. It's private and secluded and this is the first time I've had a chance to be alone with Casey other than when we have fallen asleep at night in each other's arms.

  We ride in silence as Casey's head roves back and forth to take in the scenery. She starts out sitting stiff but eventually the gentle rocking of Whiskey's slow gait gets her to relax and she starts melting back into me. Her ass on my lap isn't exactly helping me to relax though as she rubs against my half-hard cock.

  "Are you nervous about the meeting tomorrow?" Casey asks out of the blue.

  "Little bit," I tell her honestly.

  And I am, because tomorrow we meet with Dad's attorneys and financial advisors to begin discussions on what will be needed from Woolf and I to help manage the Jennings' estate. The formal reading of the will won't be for another few weeks but we all know he's left everything to his sons. Dad was always transparent about that because he wanted to impress upon us our duty to our heritage. And already, the attorneys have been making it clear that Woolf and I have a shit ton of stuff that needs handled immediately. Very important decisions need to be made, most importantly, my dad's position as CEO needs filled. The attorneys look at me directly every time they mention this, and it makes my stomach cramp with dread. Every minute that passes, I can feel the proverbial noose start to tighten.

  "You know," Casey says hesitantly. "It might not be so bad... you staying here. I mean... this place is so beautiful. You have such history and Tenn... honestly... you on a horse riding the open range in tight jeans is way hotter than you on a motorcycle I'm sorry to say."

  I chuckle and squeeze my hold around her waist. "Nice thought, Goldie, but if I stay, I wouldn't be riding the range. I'd be in a business suit attending meetings, entertaining political big wigs, and schmoozing business associates. I'd probably have to shave my fucking goatee so I'd look presentable."

  "Oh," she says softly and after a moment of reflection, she says, "But still... maybe this is what you're supposed to do with your life."

  Her words slice into me, because while I don't have a fucking clue as to what I'm really supposed to do, I had always sort of thought Casey would be my voice of reason. She'd be the one that would keep reminding me to follow my real dreams, which of course, include her.

  I'm not sure what to say to her because I can see she's speaking to me from a place deep within her heart that is trying to help me figure out what is best. She's forcing me to look at all angles.

  "Tenn?" she whispers, one of her hands releasing the death grip she has on the pommel to come up and drape over my arm that's around her waist.

  "Yeah, baby?"

  "I love you," she says.

  She says it firmly, without a shred of doubt in her voice. She says it as if it's a truth she's known all along.

  She fucking owns those words.

  My entire body freezes, and I pull on the reins to bring Whiskey to a halt. I lean to the side and then forward a bit to get a look at her face. She turns so her eyes can meet mine, and I'm thunderstruck over the intensity of feeling she's emanating in her gaze.

  "I love you, Tenn," she says again with a clear voice, her eyes pinning me hard. "And if you love me, and you want me to, I'll stay here with you if this is where you're meant to be."

  I can't explain the feeling that starts to overwhelm me because it's something I've never experienced before, and I don't know that mere words could ever do it justice. But in just the space of a sharp inhale of air into my lungs, my entire world becomes complete. In just that moment, I know, without a doubt, that my life will never be more perfect than it is in this moment.

  For the first time ever, I have the love of a woman that is more precious to me than the oxygen that sustains me. More important than my dreams to open a custom motorcycle shop. More essential to my way of living than anything else.

  At this moment, Casey takes up one half of my heart while Zoey takes up the other, and because it's so fucking full, nothing else really matters.

  And with such an epiphany glowing within me, I realize in this moment that I want Casey more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. I draw her into me, pressing my face forward to capture her lips. Our hats bump against each other and immediately fall backward off our heads, tumbling to the ground, but that only makes the sun feel that much better upon me.

  Casey turns in the saddle slightly, causing the leather to creak. Whiskey, being the good gelding that he is, just stands placidly as Casey's hands release the pommel completely and clutch at my shirt.

  While my mouth claims hers, the arm around her waist loosens, and my hand drops automatically between her legs, the need to touch her as intimately as possibly completely overwhelming me. My fingers snake under the hem of her dress and pull it up high. I pull back from her lips briefly and angle my head down, looking at the tiny scrap of white lace between her legs with my fingers hovering just over it.

  I glance back up at her briefly, rocked by the love and desire in her eyes, and my fingers dive under the elastic edge of her panties. Shifting my leg, which spreads her open a little further, I slide a finger deep inside her pussy. She groans and her head falls back against my shoulder.

  So wet and warm.

  My finger works her lazily, and her breath starts to hitch. Her hips gyrate, grinding against my cock, which is now painfully hard.

  "Ever fucked on a horse?" I murmur just before I nip at her ear.

  She shakes her head frantically, and then bucks against me when I start to circle her clit.

  "Me either," I tell her. "But I'm about to."

  "Tenn," she says shakily as her hands grab onto my wrist, attempting to halt my ministrations. "I don't want to fall off."

  "Shhh," I gentle her. "Whiskey's a good horse. And I'm not about to let you fall."

  "Okay," she says with a moan as I continue to pluck at her with my fingers.

  I've never done this before but in my mind, I know exactly how it needs to work. I've been riding horses since I was three years old and feel as comfortable in the saddle as I do lying on a mattress. After looping the reins around the pommel and scooting back to the edge of the saddle, I easily pick Casey up and turn her around to face me, and because she's so lithe, she easily is able to make the adjustment by cocking her leg up high and squeezing it between us until we are adjusted face to face.

  Whiskey takes a few slow, side steps as we adjust in the saddle, but that's more about him accommodating the new change in weight distribution and I don't give it another thought.

  My only thought is my hands going under Casey's ass and using the strength in my arms alone to lift her up several inches. "Open my jeans," I tell her urgently.

  Her hands drop quickly and with sure movements and some rocking of my own hips, she gets my belt and fly opened and the material pushed down enough to free my cock. And fuck... she looks down at it where I can feel it's already leaking with need and actually licks her lips like she wants to swallow me whole.

  Christ... I can't wait. I haul her closer to me while she grips the base of my dick with one hand and the other slips into the crotch of her panties to jerk them to the side, baring her gorgeously slick pussy to me.

  "Fuck," I say as I lower her... my face slanted downward so I don't miss a second of my cock as it slides up into her.

  We both groan in ecstasy once I become fully lodged inside, her legs naturally wrapping around my waist with her boots resting on Whiskey's backside.

  "Hold on to my shoulders, baby," I tell her as my hands go to the reins. "And hang on tight, okay?"

  Her eyes are glazed but I know she understands me because she does exactly as I tell her to, and then goes one step further by wrapping her arms all the way around m
y neck and placing her cheek against mine.

  With a soft cluck of my tongue and a tiny tap of my heels into Whiskey's flanks, I urge him forward with only enough rein so that he maintains a slow walk. I use the opportunity to let Casey get the feel of the motion and within moments, she rocking counter to Whiskey's gait. My cock isn't getting much friction at this pace, other than a gentle massage of her walls against mine as she grinds against me. This is fine though, because this is so fucking hot right now, I'm afraid I might bust a quick nut if I don't get some control first.

  Casey's little gasps and moans though turn me on like nothing I've ever experienced with her before and with sharper kick of my boots, I urge Whiskey into a soft canter, causing both of us to gasp and moan.

  With the first loping stride, Casey slides up my cock and then back down in a fluid motion and my eyes practically roll into the back of my head because nothing should ever feel this good. Casey moans loudly as Whiskey provides us with all the motion we need by which we can fuck each other.

  The sound of hooves punching into the ground and the slap of our flesh against each other rings hard in my ears and then starts to fade as I begin to get overwhelmed by Casey sliding up and down on me. Tiny whimpers fall from her lips but what I really need is to hear her scream out to the Wyoming skyline.

  I tighten the lead on the reins just a fraction and Whiskey immediately responds, slowing into a trot that almost has me coming immediately as Casey's body starts slamming hard on my dick. My balls ache because every crash down on me also crushes my poor nuts against the saddle, but the feeling of her bouncing up and down on my cock feels way better than the pain of it.

  Casey and I have absolutely no control over our bodies. This is all Whiskey's choppy pace that has Casey fucking me harder than I've ever been ridden before, and when she starts grunting with every downward thrust, I feel my bruised balls start to tighten.

  Pressing her face into my neck, I feel wetness there as Casey mutters against me, "So good. So good," and then her fingers grab my hair and she jerks my head hard as she screams my name while she starts coming all around me.

 

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