Lip Lock: Country Fever, Book 2 (14 page)

He stopped suddenly, gazing at the small triangle of curls she’d fashioned like an arrow pointing his way. “Holy… Yesss, darlin’. You shaved for me. This is mine. Do you hear me? Mine now.” Excitement edged with uncertainty threatened to rip away her control.

Shoving her back onto the hood, he went down between her thighs and traced the outline of her curls with his rough tongue.

Quivering from head to foot, she imagined a car approaching from behind, coming upon them, and what the ramifications might mean for Brant’s practice. Then all thought fled as he drove two fingers into her aching sheath, claiming her better than anyone ever had.

He shook his head, mouthing her folds from top to bottom and side to side. The first splinters of an uncontrollable orgasm rushed up. Crying out, she rocked hard and came.

Her guttural moan mingled with the chirping crickets and the scurrying of animals seeking their nighttime refuges. He pounded her with his fingers, drawing out her release until she felt like a puddle on the hood of his car.

Before she could come down, he was tearing open his fly, scrabbling with a condom, ripping the packet open with his teeth and spitting it into the night.

A carefree laugh bubbled from her, and he answered with a grin. “That’s the Hayley I know. Now slide down the hood nice and easy. Turn around and put your palms on it.”

Legs shaking from her recent high, she did his bidding. Following his voice had never seemed so right. Damn, she’d follow that deep, smoky voice all the way into the pits of hell.

In one flick, he flipped her sundress up around her hips. Then, palming a breast through her bodice and bra, he used his other hand to trace the line of her pussy to her clit. Over and over, drawing a path through all the frustrations of life and straight to her heart.

Poised at the quick of her, he nudged her folds with the head of his cock. His mouth against her ear sent her into fresh spasms of want. “When I say ‘now’, take it in one smooth stroke, baby. You’re mine, remember.”

Heat coiled inside her. She nodded.

“Now.”

A violent shove and he filled her. Stuffed her. Her walls clenched around him, hugging every long inch. She reached behind and dug her nails into his hard ass cheek. “Move, please!”

“That’s my baby. Tell me what you want.” He withdrew slowly, maddeningly. Just before the tip left her body, he rammed home again. They shared a grunt, and then he was off. Pistoning his hips, he fucked her deep, then shallow. Each heated pass over her G-spot drove her higher.

Lashing her to his body with an arm around her waist, he lapped at her earlobe and throat until she came undone.

Waves of ecstasy slammed her. And she cried out the one thing she couldn’t hold back—a word that had come to mean so much. His name.

Chapter Ten

Brant’s fingertips tingled as he glanced at his watch and saw the hour approaching. Hayley and Drake would be in his office any minute for Drake’s appointment. Brant quickly wrapped up with the boy whose braces he was tightening, keeping one eye on the entrance.

When the lanky, dark-haired boy wearing a Reedy Tigers T-shirt strode in, Brant’s heart caught. He hadn’t set eyes on Hayley in two days, though they’d spent hours on the phone together, talking into the wee hours like teenagers. He loved doing normal things like this with her. Relationship stuff that had nothing to do with laying rough hands on her or marking her.

He ran a hand over his face. He was still feeling the effects of a late night, but it was fucking worth it. Since the evening he’d found her in Casper, something had changed between them.

Or so he’d thought until now. He gave his patient’s shoulder a pat. “Looks great, Jack. See you next week.”

Brant stood from the stool so quickly, it rolled several feet across the floor. Drake settled into chair number two and thanked the hygienist when she told him Brant would be right with him.

“Drake, where’s your mom?”

The boy gave an apologetic smile, barely meeting Brant’s gaze. “She’s in the car. Said she wasn’t coming in—”

“Oh, hell no.” Possessiveness branded his self-control, searing through the thin thread until it nearly snapped. Brant was off before Drake completed the sentence. He stormed out of the building and into the parking lot, where Hayley’s rusted blue truck was parked with the door hanging open against the warmth of the day.

He reached inside and laid his hands on her. In the back of his mind, he imagined binding her to his bed and whipping her ass for not coming into the office with Drake.

She squealed with surprise. Brant covered her mouth with his, swallowing her sounds, which turned into low purrs.

Cock hardening to painful bliss, he gripped her braid and tipped her head back to fully receive his kisses. Around them, the parking lot was abuzz with patients coming and going, and Brant couldn’t give a shit less.

But Hayley stiffened, and he knew this was the reason.

“Brant.” She tried to disentangle herself from his arms, but he crowded into the truck cab, almost bending her back on the seat. Shit, one swift tug and he could have her legs wrapped around him and his cock at the V of her faded denims.

“One more,” he said harshly, a second before kissing her again. He worked his lips over hers in gulping bites, unable to get enough, drowning in the only woman he’d ever wanted this way.

What was it that stopped her from giving herself wholeheartedly? He felt that barrier like he felt the condom between them during lovemaking. While he might feel a fraction closer to her since the night in Casper, only one brick had fallen from her wall, and he had every intention of tearing it down. He also couldn’t help but think there were things she wasn’t saying, and he didn’t know her well enough to read between the lines.

He was desperate to uncover all of this and secure her. Tearing his mouth away, he stared down at her, panting hard. “I have to go back inside now, but tonight, you’re mine. There’s a party at a friend’s house, a cookout. And you’re my date. Wear something weather appropriate and expect to wear a helmet.”

With that, he employed a supreme amount of willpower and pivoted away from her. Dying to turn back and bare her ass to his hand. Damn her for withholding herself from him.

At the door of his office, he smoothed his hair and hoped to calm the flush that he knew lived in his cheeks. He couldn’t let his appetites out. And while he didn’t care about what people thought of his relationship with Hayley, he really didn’t wish to turn off more patients.

When he was around Hayley, he lost it.

Inside, he approached Drake with an embarrassed smile. The boy gave his crooked-toothed grin in return.

Plopping onto the stool, Brant snapped on a pair of gloves. “I really like your mom, Drake. A lot. What do you think about that?”

Traces of his mother lived in Drake’s smile and the lights in his eyes. He ducked his head, studying his hands for a minute before looking at Brant again. “I think it’s about time someone appreciated her, Dr. Foxfire.”

A rumble of happiness vibrated Brant’s chest, and he warmed from the inside out. Even if Hayley didn’t recognize it yet, one barrier had fallen. “Me too, Drake. I’m glad you agree.”

Hayley hadn’t primped so much since her senior prom. Even her wedding day had been a low-key affair with flowers tucked in her hair and a little lip gloss. But knowing Brant was taking her somewhere, possibly showing her off to his friends or employees, put her on edge.

Compared to Brant, she was unkempt. Even in rumpled khakis and no shirt, he looked totally put together.

She patted her hair. Be prepared to wear a helmet? What the hell did that mean? How did one keep hair from turning into helmet-head?

In the end, she chose to leave it down and loose, hoping for the best. Choosing clothes was equally as difficult. She guessed they were riding ATVs at the party, and therefore she wanted jeans. But her best jeans were too tight and her fat jeans too ratty.

In the end, she settled for her yoga pants, a long shirt, and a scarf looped several times around her neck. As an afterthought, she added the bangles, remembering how Brant had thumbed through them again and again that night in Casper as he drove her back to her truck. The small clink would forever remind her of that experience.

Drake had taken himself out of the picture tonight by meeting a group of friends at the movies to see the latest horror flick. But before he left, he’d wrapped his arms around Hayley and squeezed, saying, “Have fun tonight, Mom.”

The undertone she’d heard in his words made her think Brant had talked to him while she sat in the truck during the appointment.

She hugged him. “I intend to.”

He gazed at her for a long heartbeat. Alarm bells sounded in her head. She stared into his handsome face, which was on the same level as hers. “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?”

Disentangling himself from her hold, Drake leaned against the countertop. “Well, don’t get me wrong. I really like Dr. Foxfire, but he’s a little bossy, isn’t he? Ordering for you at the coffee shop then telling you to eat it.”

Bossy. Yup. But how to tell her teenage son that it made her crazed with passion and feel safe at the same time?

Exhaling, she tried to formulate the words in a way that wouldn’t make Drake uncomfortable. “I’ve spent a lot of years taking care of myself, Drake. And I kind of like Brant taking control. Ordering me that coffee and donut was his way of caring for me. He knew I’d never order it for myself. Sometimes other people see our wants better than we do.”

Like when Brant spanked me
. She hadn’t a clue that she’d needed that. She craved more even now.

After that, Drake’s ride beeped from the driveway and their conversation was over as fast as it had cropped up.

One more powder of her nose and Hayley was ready. Standing back, she stared at her reflection. The woman blinking back at her looked polished and ready to be seen on Brant Foxfire’s arm. While part of her still struggled with the idea that she shouldn’t be dating him at all, the woman he made her feel like wanted to please him.

Downstairs, she leafed through a pile of mail, reading everything from grocery ads to a letter from Steve, thanking her for making payment on her rent, but letting her know she still owed this month’s. Then he provided a date when he’d be coming to collect.

Her phone buzzed on the countertop. She glanced down to see Brant’s text. She was supposed to meet him in a few minutes in the diner’s parking lot, but his text demanded that she give her address.

Swallowing fear, she let her thumbs fly over the tiny keypad.
No, we’ll meet as planned
.

I’m doing this right. Give me the address.

A shiver fingered her spine. Even via text, she heard his rough voice, and it did things to her insides. How was he able to undo her so easily? Before she knew it, he’d wear her down, and she’d find herself married to the man, just as she was Kent.

Fortifying herself, she texted back.
See u in ten at the diner
.

Before she could see his reply, she dropped her cell into her pocket along with a bit of cash and headed for the car. Excitement scudded through her like clouds in a windy sky, fast, one on top of another. Brant was waiting for her.

On the heels of this thought was a darker, more skeptical one. She’d been in this place once before with her ex. Did she really want to travel the same path? While Brant seemed to be nothing like Kent, he definitely inspired the same heart-pounding want.

The short drive to the diner had never seemed so long, filled as she was with doubts. Sooner or later, she would have to make a decision about what she was doing with Brant. She couldn’t lie to herself anymore by saying she was just sleeping with him.

She’d given much more than her body during those sexual interludes. Now, her heart hardly seemed to belong to her.

Tamping down on this idea, she turned into the parking lot. Instantly, she spotted the big, muscular form, which was just swinging a leg over a motorcycle.

Breath catching, she clenched her hands on the wheel of her dilapidated truck. He looked like he’d just driven off the page of a motorhead magazine, muscles flexing as he pulled off his helmet and set it on the leather seat with a grin in her direction.

Butterflies hatched in her belly and took flight. Lust be damned. She was head over boot heels for this guy. Each layer he exposed to her only made her want him more. Would he feel the same if she revealed the woman who was desperate to make rent, the one who nearly peed her pants with fear of being trapped in a relationship like the one she’d had before? Not to mention all the little insecurities about her weight or lack of higher education.

She tore her gaze from him because it hurt her to look.

Steering the truck into a spot on the far end of the lot, away from the place where customers would park, she cut the engine. In a flash, Brant’s boot heels crushed gravel on his haste to reach her.

He opened her door and yanked her into his strong, leather-clad arms. “You’re going to talk to me about why you won’t let me know where you live. In the meantime…” He possessed her mouth in a searing, thigh-clenching kiss.

Need spiked in her core, her pussy immediately wet and her clit pressing against the seam of her pants.