Somethin' Dirty: Country Fever, Book 4 (11 page)

Nola’s sigh rasped out. “Yes.”

“Then let me.” He sounded as if he’d run a marathon.

She fell against him, forehead pressed to his shoulder. When she nodded, he used two fingers to circle her straining clit. Need revved inside her—the race was on.

Who would win in this frightening game? Her body, yes. But whose heart would cross the finish line first? She’d thought she could give herself lightly, but the feeling of utter relief that he was touching her scared the fuck out of her.

With his free hand he tilted her chin and claimed her mouth. She moaned as his hot tongue lashed the inside of her mouth. He mimicked the motion of his fingers. Up and down, back and forth. Oh God, all around.

She started to peak. Her pussy pulsated.

“Not yet.” He withdrew his fingers and she cried out in frustration. He huffed a laugh.

“Damn, you’re so fun to tease.”

She pressed her thighs together, aching for the release he’d denied her. Annoyance mingled with her want. “I was doing just fine on my own.”

He arched a dark brow. Water trickled over his tanned flesh. “That so? You seemed mighty pleased when I joined you.”

Yeah, she was. She met his stare and slumped against the wall, her pussy contracting. A few flicks of his finger and she’d come.

“I had no intention of getting in with you, but you looked so goddamn hot when I walked into the house a little bit ago. I couldn’t quit thinking about it.”

Shock staunched her need. “What?” She’d been a sniveling, disheveled mess after battling her own shortcomings with Lyric.

Griffin pinned her against the wall using his body. His hard cock jutted against her belly, tormenting her with every thick inch. He braced a hand over her head and let his lips hover above hers.

“A gorgeous woman in sweats, messy hair and looking at me with need in her eyes is the sexiest thing a man can find when he comes in the door. Now let me take care of this need.”

His chest rumbled deliciously against her nipples. She wanted to beg him to ease her, make her come all over his fingers. But the words died—a ballad unsung. Instead she gripped his wrist and guided his hand to her cunt again.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, driving his tongue into her mouth at the same time he rubbed her slick pussy.

He didn’t dally around the task—finding her core and strumming it perfectly. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and rolled it through her fingers. When she dipped her fingertips low over his balls, he groaned his approval.

She lost all sense of where she ended and he began as he ran his callused fingers over her wet pussy.

He placed his mouth against her ear. “Come for me, baby. Then I’ll carry you into my bedroom and worship this…” he swirled his finger over her nubbin, “…with my tongue.”

His heated words sent her flying. The burning knot tightened and broke. She quivered as the most powerful orgasm she’d had yet took over. Waves of bliss slammed her.

Griffin’s cock swelled in her palm, and she pumped it faster. They swayed together, kissing until she didn’t know if she could stand anymore.

He slid his hand free and picked her up. The cooler air hit her skin as he burst through the shower curtain. She couldn’t stop a giggle from erupting from her throat.

Angling her toward the shower again, he said, “Turn off the water, girl.”

Something about the way he drawled “girl” didn’t sound a bit as if he referenced their age difference. It sent streamers of warmth through her whole body.

She switched off the shower and then he swung out of the bathroom with her in his arms. He laid her still dripping on his bed and took his time staring at her.

“So damn beautiful. Ripe as a goddamn fruit for me.” He eased between her legs and held them apart with his hands on her inner thighs. When he delved his tongue deep into her pussy, they shared an uncontrolled moan.

He fanned his fingers over her flesh and switched tactics, covering her clit in one intense bite. He sucked her bud, and she couldn’t hold back. The sensation was too much when she was still coming down off her first high.

She came hard, bucking against his mouth and taking what she wanted. Eyes squeezed shut on the ecstasy, she didn’t realize his hands were roving until he pressed his fingertip against her nether hole.

“What—? Griffin!”

“Shh, sweetheart. It’s good. So good. I’ll show you.”

Before she could protest, he worked his finger in to the first knuckle. She squirmed, part from nervousness, part from the extreme pleasure he was forcing on her.

He planted a hand on her belly and held her down while sliding his finger in and out, opening her. He leaned forward and kissed the small patch of hair on her mound.

“Someday I’m going to take you here.” To punctuate his statement, he corkscrewed his finger deeper. She cried out, her nerve endings alive in a brand new way.

“But not today,” he added and slipped his finger free. Her body clenched at the loss. Her noise of despair made her flush a deep red. Griffin moved up her body and kissed her. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait too long. Now roll onto your hands and knees.”

Oh. My. God.
Still blushing furiously, she rolled onto her stomach. His footsteps moved away, and she twisted to see what he was doing. Water beaded on his shoulders and back. He opened a drawer then she heard a tearing sound.

When he turned, his big cock was fitted with a condom. The purple head was stretched. She wet her lips.

“Put that luscious ass in the air, doll.”

Chapter Seven

“What’s that in your back pocket, Turner?”

Griffin turned and pierced Rick, the vet, in his gaze. He had been to the ranch so often in the last two weeks, Griffin might have to provide the man with a bedroom soon.

The calves had a virus. In two weeks, he’d lost three of them, and more were sick with the “calf scours”. Everything came right back out of the poor newborns, and that meant dehydration and eventually death.

“Looks like a radio of sorts,” Rick prompted.

The sleepless haze in Griffin’s mind parted. Last night Taylor had finally made the trip up to Needle’s Pass and the two of them had spent way too much time with a case of beer in the barn. “Oh, that’s a baby monitor.”

Rick fiddled with a concoction he was mixing in a big bucket. He claimed he hadn’t seen a sickness this bad in a long time. The regular treatments weren’t working as well as he hoped, so he’d taken to tweaking a batch of medicine. “Thought you had the little Brady girl up here as nanny.”

Griffin opened his mouth to respond, but at that moment the monitor issued Nola’s sweet voice. Singing again.

Rick glanced up at Griffin, a knowing smile on his face. “I see the allure of carrying the monitor.”

Annoyance washed through Griffin. Yeah, he was sleeping with Nola. He was also falling for her, and that scared him almost as bad as losing all of his calves.

Using a long stick of wood, Rick stirred the mixture. “I heard Miss Brady sing once. Amazing talent. Too good for this Podunk town.” He shook his head, but Griffin felt as if the veterinarian had grabbed and shaken him.

The last thing he needed was another person telling him to stop toying with her, to let her go. His ma sometimes stayed in the guest room after chemo sessions when she was feeling too ill to stay alone. After walking in on Griffin kissing the hell out of Nola, his ma had turned and walked back to the guest room. But once alone, she’d sliced him with her tongue.

“How old is that girl?”

“Old enough to be kissing.”

“You know what I mean, Griffin. You didn’t learn your lesson with the last woman who was too young?”

He’d ground his teeth at the mention of Miranda. His mother rarely brought up his indiscretion or the fact he lived like a pauper so he could pay Lyric’s mother off. “Nola’s different, Ma.”

“Is she?” She’d arched a thinning brow. “I heard tell she has dreams of going to Nashville. You gonna try to marry her before she skips town?”

“No. Just—” He fought for the words to tell her that Nola filled a hollow in his chest. Their long nights weren’t only about mind-blowing sex. The time they spent talking meant more to him than anything.

In the end, his mother had simply said, “Be careful.”

Nola’s voice trickled into the barn. Griffin loved that she sang to his daughter. In fact, she was growing less awkward with Lyric. His daughter’s diapers were only falling off about half the time now.

A grin stole involuntarily over his face.

Rick glanced up. “She sure sounds pretty.”

“She does.”

“I heard that because she’s vying for Nashville, her daddy was pushing her to take a full-time job at his office. That’s why she hightailed it outta there.”

Griffin stared at Rick. Had she? Maybe he ought to spend more time in Reedy—get the gossip about the woman he couldn’t keep his hands—or mind—off.

“Was this recently?” Griffin scuffed his knuckles over the hair on his jaw. Last night Nola had squealed like crazy when he ran his beard over her sensitive flesh.

Rick finished mixing and set the stick aside. “Few weeks ago, I’d say.”

Griffin’s stomach knotted. That crazy feeling that the world was tilting plagued him again. “You gonna be all right for a few minutes?”

“Sure.”

Without another word Griffin strode from the barn. The sun peeked over the roof of the house. From the monitor in his back pocket a wail sounded, and he pushed himself faster.

He entered the house quietly, aware his ma was still asleep at this early hour. He didn’t bother to toe off his boots but headed straight for the nursery.

The cries increased, and a splashing sound accompanied the noise. He veered toward the bathroom instead. Nola had the baby in the mesh infant seat in the tub, but she leaned back on her ankles, staring at Lyric with horror on her face. Lyric churned her arms and legs, face pink with a yell.

“She’s not a mermaid,” Griffin drawled from the doorway.

Nola jerked, and her face scorched. She picked up the washcloth and swirled it in the shallow water.

“Lyric giving you trouble?”

“Well, it’s just that…she started to roll.”

Griffin’s chest burned with a laugh. Biting his lower lip to keep from making Nola feel bad, he drifted forward. “Yeah, she’s been doing that. She can roll to her belly but still hasn’t figured out how to get onto her back again. Just wash her up quick and she’ll be too annoyed to roll. She hates her bath.”

Something like relief moved in Nola’s eyes. “She cries for you a lot?”

“Well, she lets me know when she disapproves. I just quiet her with a song.”

Nola froze. “A song?”

“Yeah.” He kneeled beside Nola at the edge of the tub and stared down at Lyric. She flapped her arms at his presence. He stared into his daughter’s eyes and crooned the first verse to her song. As he noticed how still Nola had grown, awareness seeped into him. His voice was nowhere near as refined as hers. But he sang from the heart, and he figured that was just as good.

Nola’s shoulder brushed his, and a shiver ran through her into him. He stopped singing and directed his gaze at her.

Her lips were parted, her eyes stormy with an emotion he couldn’t name. “Who wrote that song?”

He dipped his head. “I did.” Reaching into the tub, he caught Lyric’s hand. She folded her fingers tightly around his thumb.

Nola’s voice was breathy. “I didn’t know you were a songwriter.”

“Nah, I’m a rancher.”

“But the melody—the lyrics. They blend perfectly.”

He blushed. To cover the moment he removed the washcloth from Nola’s hand, added soap and wiped Lyric down. She cooed when he washed her hair, and Nola giggled.

Griffin’s throat constricted. Being with her in this way felt deceptively like a family. But Rick’s words—and his ma’s too—whirled in his brain like a dust storm.

“You worked with your father before you came here.”

She pivoted her head to look at him. Their lips were inches apart. If he closed the gap, he could forget about anything but her sweet taste. But dammit, he couldn’t continue to fool himself.

She wasn’t his.

She wasn’t Lyric’s.

“I did,” she said.

He grabbed the towel off the corner of the sink and unfolded it. Then he lifted Lyric out of the tub and wrapped her in the terrycloth. The baby giggled as he rubbed her dry. Without waiting for more from Nola, he launched to his feet and carried Lyric into the nursery.

Nola drifted in. “You never asked where I worked. Is it a problem?”

“Nope.” He placed Lyric on the changing table and grabbed one of the fresh outfits he kept there. Then he hooked her little ankles in one of his hands and lifted her bottom to diaper her.

Nola came to stand at his side. “You’re good at that.”

He looked up at her begrudging tone. “I’m good at a lot of things, but with you I’m floundering, Nola.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You’re going to Nashville. Why let me keep seducing you before you go?”