Brendon (18 page)

Brendon’s hands immediately gripped her head firmly as he held her in place. She couldn’t do much more because he was still semi-dressed, but she used her tongue to tease the head of his cock.

“Wrap your lips around it,” Brendon instructed.

She did, sucking him into her mouth, using her tongue to circle the crest, lapping at the precum that formed, relishing the taste of him.

“I love when you hum like that.”

His voice was rough, his hands rougher as they held her head tightly.

Cheyenne wanted more of him and when she went to push his jeans and boxers down his hips, he assisted, forcing them far enough that she could push them down his legs so they pooled at his feet.

He didn’t release her though, holding her head firmly as he said, “Put your hand around my dick.”

When she gripped him in her fist, he instructed her to stroke him, which she did as she continued to suck him.

“Damn, baby,” he growled, his hips thrusting forward, forcing him deep into her mouth. “Your mouth’s so fuckin’ good. And your tongue . . .”

Cheyenne hummed her pleasure, causing his hands to pull at her hair, sending electrical sparks from her scalp to her core. Oh, yeah, this was one thing she loved about him. The way he controlled her, told her what he wanted, what he liked. She’d never had that before and Cheyenne found she craved it.

Craved him.

“Keep that up and I’m gonna come in your mouth.”

He wouldn’t hear her complain.

“But tonight, I want to come inside you. Deep inside you.”

Brendon pulled her head back until she released him with a subtle pop. When her eyes met his, more electricity spiked in her bloodstream. The man looked as though he was hanging by a thread, his eyes dark, the skin on his handsome face taut.

“Take the shirt off.”

While he stepped out of his jeans and opened her bedside table, Cheyenne discarded the shirt.

Since they’d stopped using condoms, she knew there was only one thing he was getting and that had her heart rate speeding up.

“Lay back on the bed and spread your legs for me.”

Cheyenne inched backward until she was lying across the bed sideways. She put her feet flat on the mattress and spread her knees, her body flaming as he watched her intently. His gaze was like a physical caress as it skated over her body, starting on her face and slowly drifting down, pausing on her breasts briefly before continuing. She couldn’t look away, desperate to see the heat that generated between his eyes and her body.

“Spread yourself open for me. I wanna see how wet you are.”

Cheyenne’s face heated another degree, but she followed his instructions to the letter, gliding her hands over her chest, her breasts—which caused her nipples to pucker painfully—then down over her belly until she reached the achy spot between her legs. She was hypersensitive to her own touch, but somehow she managed to separate her labia, all while Brendon’s eyes followed the trail of her hands.

He crawled up onto the bed, his big, work-roughened hands coming to rest on her knees as he forced them apart another inch.

“Tease yourself for me.”

Cheyenne swallowed hard, but used the tip of her index finger to tease her clit briefly.

“Slide your finger inside.”

By now, Cheyenne was pretty sure her body temperature couldn’t soar any higher. If the lights hadn’t been on, she probably wouldn’t have been quite so nervous, but there was no doubt Brendon saw everything. Still, she forced herself to comply with his commands, dipping her finger inside, sucking in a breath as the sensation set of sparks of pleasure in her core.

“Damn, that’s pretty,” he said roughly before lowering himself to the bed, his breath fanning her hand as he did.

“Pull out and hold your sweet pussy open for me while I taste you.”

Heavens!

Nothing compared to the feel of Brendon’s tongue against her heated flesh. He was wickedly skilled, manipulating her with his lips and tongue until she was panting for breath, begging for more. He kept a torturously slow pace and Cheyenne thought she was doing fairly well to maintain as much of her composure while he feasted on her, but when she heard the distinct click of a tube being opened, her legs froze.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, baby.”

The assurance in his tone had her relaxing a little. And when his tongue worked its magic once again, she closed her eyes and lost herself in the brutally delicious sensation.

When he shouldered her legs open wider and his finger touched her puckered hole, she inhaled sharply, the coolness of the lubricant making her ass clench.

“Relax for me, Chey. I’m just gonna play. I’m not gonna take your ass until you can take me completely.”

Easier said than done
, Cheyenne thought as he slipped the tip of his finger inside.

Her world came to a central focus on the things he was doing to her. The stab of pain that ignited when he pushed inside her gently was more than she could handle. He must’ve realized her discomfort because his mouth returned to her pussy, his tongue thrusting inside, his thumb circling her clit. The next thing she knew, her orgasm was building as he pulled her to the precipice, causing her to hover on the razor’s edge of a pleasure so sharp, so intense, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.

Cheyenne reached for the tipping point, but it didn’t come. Brendon continued to pull back just enough to keep her desperately hanging on the thin edge as he fucked her ass with his finger, maybe two. She didn’t know how many he was using, but she felt filled to overflowing, and the pain had subsided and the only thing left was pleasure, a kind she’d never experienced before.

When he moaned, the vibration had her clit pulsing, and when he began fucking her ass faster, his tongue thrusting into her pussy, his thumb still manipulating her clit, Cheyenne let go, soaring into the ether as her orgasm consumed her.

OFFERING CHEYENNE A
moment to come down from her orgasm, Brendon headed for the adjoining bathroom and cleaned the lubricant from his hands. When he returned, she was still in the same position he’d left her in, her eyes closed, her chest still rising and falling rapidly.

His cock throbbed and twitched as he glanced at the slickness between her splayed thighs.

Oh, yeah, he was going to take her ass one of these days. But not tonight. Tonight, he feared he would hurt her. All of his emotions from the day had coalesced into a blinding, driving need and he was ready to drive himself inside her.

“Roll over,” he instructed as he once again joined her on the bed.

Cheyenne sighed as she rolled over.

Gripping her hips, he pulled her back to him and she let out a moan, making him smile.

Guiding his cock against the slick entrance of her pussy, Brendon pushed inside slowly, breathing in deep when she clenched around him, sheathing him with a glorious heat. He loved the fact that he could take her bare, loved that she’d never been with a man skin to skin. No man except him.

A sharp pang of possession spurred him forward, driving him into her as he held her hips still. Her gasp had him pausing.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded. “It feels too good.”

That was all he needed, her confirmation that he hadn’t hurt her before he let himself go, slamming into her, fucking her hard and wild, telling her all the ways he wanted to take her, all the ways he would take her.

“Fuck, Chey. Your pussy’s so damn tight. Milk my cock, baby. Fuck yeah.” Brendon didn’t slow his pace until he was hovering on the brink of release, desperate to push her over with him. When her pussy clenched around him, her cry of pleasure echoing in the room, he followed her over, filling her with his seed.

Pulling out, he rolled her to her side as he crashed to the bed beside her, yanking her against him and holding her tight.

And that was exactly how they fell asleep.

chapter
TWENTY-ONE

A
s it turned out, working on her house was one of the things Cheyenne looked forward to most. She was thrilled that Bill and his crew were moving along quickly on the master bedroom and bath. In fact, if things went as planned, she would be back in her own bedroom in a week—or so Bill told her that morning when he arrived to finish the tile work in the bathroom.

Brendon was working his ass off on so many little things, getting them adjusted or fixed, and he’d even offered to take her shopping for furniture. Which was where they were now, walking into a place that Travis had recommended. She was sporting her cap—the one he had picked out—and her not-so-trendy nerd glasses while Brendon was wearing a ball cap and his sunglasses, looking like walking, talking dessert.

“May I help you?” a pretty young woman greeted them near the door.

Cheyenne glanced over at Brendon.

“We’re lookin’ for Chester?”

The woman smiled and then looked over her shoulder. “Chester! You’ve got customers!”

While they waited for Chester, Cheyenne chose to look around, moving into the sofa section. She found a few pieces she liked. Surprisingly, the place had quite a bit of furniture that suited her tastes, not to mention would work with the house. She had promised Kylie that she would send pictures of what she liked before she purchased, just to get her friend’s input. Honestly, Cheyenne was happy to have the help. From both Kylie and Brendon. Shopping for furniture wasn’t something she knew much about, although she figured it couldn’t be too hard.

An hour later, Cheyenne learned just how wrong she was about that. Picking out furniture wasn’t easy at all and she found she didn’t particularly care for it. However, Chester was rather entertaining. The old man realized who she was, but thankfully, he didn’t make a big deal out of her being a celebrity. He was witty and funny and laughed every time she scrunched up her face in indecision. By the time they decided to take a break, Cheyenne hadn’t accomplished much of anything, but she promised Chester she would be back after they had lunch and she could wrap her head around so much to choose from.

“Why is it that pickin’ out a sofa is so damn hard?” she asked Brendon when they were sitting at Chili’s, waiting for their food to be delivered.

“I never figured it would be,” he replied, clearly amused.

“Well, it wasn’t like you were much help,” Cheyenne retorted. Brendon had sat down on one of the sofas and didn’t budge an inch. It had been black leather and quite boring, very similar to the one he had at his house.

“I gave you my two cents.”

“Yes, you did. Not that it helped at all.” Cheyenne studied Brendon for a minute, reflecting on how easy things had been for them that day. She recalled him telling her that he wasn’t good with women, but she completely disagreed.

Okay, sure, maybe the first couple of years that she’d known him he hadn’t been all that good with words when it came to her. But in his defense, she knew he didn’t take kindly to being turned down. She figured it was an ego thing, something most men would have an issue with. Especially a man who was used to women throwing themselves at him.

“What’re you thinkin’? I see the wheels turnin’ in there.”

Knowing the questions she wanted answers to would never be easy to ask, Cheyenne figured now was as good a time as any. Hopefully their relationship had solidified enough that he wouldn’t be bothered by her digging into what made him tick.

Pinning him with her gaze, Cheyenne took a deep breath. “Why’d you share women with Braydon?”

If Brendon was surprised by her question, he didn’t show it. Not so much as a muscle moved in his face. His blue-gray eyes were sharp as he watched her, and Cheyenne wished that she could read his thoughts.

“It was natural, I guess,” he said softly, his voice lowering along with his eyes. “It started with the first girl we kissed. She wanted to kiss us both. Even then, back in elementary, I couldn’t talk to women.”

Cheyenne interrupted. “I know you clearly believe you can’t talk to women, but I have to disagree.” Holding up her hand, she stopped him before he could say something. “That doesn’t mean I’m right, it’s just how I feel.”

Brendon nodded, glancing over at the table across from them and then back. “I don’t know if it was the women who dictated how that worked though. Ask my mother, she’ll tell you, I was always the one who needed Braydon. Apparently from the time I was born. As she tells it, I couldn’t be away from him. That’s been the hardest for me, I think. And the more time that passes, the more I realize that sharing women between us was simply another way I could keep him close.”

“Did Braydon feel the same way?” she asked, curious.

“He never complained.” A mischievous smirk replaced Brendon’s thoughtful expression.

“Of course he didn’t.” Cheyenne didn’t completely understand the appeal, but to hear Kylie tell it, there was definitely something to be desired about being with two men. Granted, Cheyenne could see why it intrigued Kylie, and even Travis and Gage, since they were in a ménage. But Brendon and Braydon merely shared the woman; they obviously weren’t together in any way.

“So tell me what happened when Jessie came along.” Cheyenne wasn’t sure she wanted to hear all about Brendon’s time with Jessie, but she really wanted to understand what changed with them both.

“I’m not sure I like where this is goin’,” Brendon told her, his eyes narrowing.

“I don’t want details, trust me,” Cheyenne informed him. “I’m merely curious. From what I can tell, Jessie and Braydon seem happy, yet they’re holdin’ back for some reason. I figure that reason is you.”

“Probably,” Brendon answered, once again his eyes lowered to the table. “I think Jessie’s worried that if they get married, I’m gonna plow into another tree or somethin’.”

“Are you?” she asked softly.

Brendon’s eyes darted up, landing directly on hers. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low when he said, “My issues never revolved around them bein’ together.”

“Then what did they revolve around?”

“You.”

The snap in his tone had Cheyenne sitting up, her eyes widening. She felt as though he’d slapped her. “Me? What did I do?”

“Not a damn thing,” he grumbled. “And that was the problem.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Just like Braydon found with Jessie, I was confused about what I . . . felt for you. Although it seemed natural because it’s all I’ve ever known, I really didn’t want to share you.”

“No? So why’d you offer?”

“Oh, back then I definitely wanted to share you,” he said, his voice softening once again. “I wanted to sandwich you between us and fuck you senseless.”

The desire in his gaze was so obvious, Cheyenne swore she could feel the residual heat from across the table.

“But that wasn’t all I wanted from you, Chey. And I didn’t know how to process that.”

“And once Braydon did work things out with Jessie . . . ?” She knew that his demeanor had deteriorated since then.

“I was lonely.”

The words were so soft, Cheyenne hardly heard them. But she had. She had heard him and she wanted to jump in his lap and wrap her arms around him. Brendon wasn’t soft-hearted, he wasn’t easy, and he wasn’t in any way dependent on others. At least he’d like to think he wasn’t. But Cheyenne had seen the softer side of him a time or two. She knew, deep down, he just wanted what everyone else wanted.

And she wanted to be the one to give it to him.

FOR THE RECORD,
Brendon fucking hated the topic of conversation. He’d inwardly cringed when Cheyenne threw out the first question and he still wanted to crawl inside himself and never come out. But he hadn’t taken the easy way out of this one, didn’t try to avoid her questions. She’d been right there to witness the hell he’d been through for the last year—a hell of his own making.

He had known the questions would eventually come and now he was doing his best to get through them.

“Have you told Braydon any of this?” she questioned.

“Yes. Not at length, no, but we’ve talked. I told him I was happy for him and not to worry about me.”

“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.”

“Don’t I know it,” Brendon replied.

“What about Jessie? Have you told her?”

Brendon figured he was going to have to tell Cheyenne sooner or later about how he felt about her, but now that the time had come, he once again couldn’t find the words. It should’ve been simple, considering how he felt about Cheyenne, how much he enjoyed spending time with her, seeing her every day, talking to her, holding her. Yeah, he knew he had it bad. But that was something he wasn’t sure he should tell her. What she didn’t know couldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

After all, this was working while she was in town. He wasn’t naive enough to believe that they’d survive once she was back on the road. For one thing, Brendon didn’t want a part-time wife. He didn’t want to be with a woman who was never home, one he had to talk to on the phone and not wake up to every single morning.

“I’ve told her,” he assured her, but he didn’t elaborate. Luckily, the waiter brought their food, providing a necessary distraction as Brendon thought about all the things he hadn’t managed to say and wondered if he ever would.