Rode Hard, Put Up Wet Page 29

Anticipation made him crazy. Waiting for her cool, strong hand to circle his cock.

Followed by her hot, wet mouth and wicked little tongue.

“Cash? Up against the bookcase.”

Zero argument from him. He shuffled sideways until his ass met cold wood. She dropped to her knees.

“Spread those legs wider.”


“Now, see here, cowboy. I won’t have you knocking off my knickknacks on the bookshelves. You’re gonna have to hold still. No buckin’ your hips. Got it?”

“I can move someplace sturdier. Maybe we oughta do this by a wall?”

“No.” Gemma slapped his thigh.

Shit. That was sexy, her taking charge and acting all bossy. His dick jerked against his belly.

“I will stop if you don’t obey me, Cash.”

“I’ll obey.”

“Good boy. Hands by your sides.”

He clenched his fists by his clenched thighs.

She nuzzled the hair covering his sac. “How is it you smell so…sweet right here?

When you’re all hard, tough male?” Her hand slipped up the inside of his leg. Then she cupped his balls and rolled them between her clever fingers.

Cash didn’t move, but his cock twitched again.

Gemma sucked both balls into her mouth and made an, “Mmm. Mmm. Mmm,”

noise. Her tongue flicked over the globes, between, and she sucked again. The very tip of her wet finger lazily stroked the sensitive strip of skin behind his sac. Then it slowly slipped back to the puckered hole. Drawing ever-deeper circles into that sensitive knot of nerves. One push and her finger breached the tightly muscled ring and was inside his back channel.

“Goddammit I shouldn’t like that but I do.”

She made another, “Mmm,” vibrating noise with his balls in her mouth as she pumped her finger and stroked another hot spot deep inside his ass.

He groaned.

By the time she released his nuts, they were drawn up tight against the base of his cock, hard as walnuts. She zigzagged the tip of her tongue up the vein throbbing in the center of his cock. Warm, wet flicks bathed the head. She stroked his interior walls and her finger thrust hard one last time before it slid out. Then she moved his shaft aside with her chin so she could nuzzle his groin.

“I love, love, love the way you smell. I’ve barely started tasting you and my panties are already soaked.”


She slapped his other thigh. “Are you supposed to be talking?”

He shook his head, but he knew she couldn’t see him in the inky blackness.

“I’m tired of talking too. Especially when my mouth can do things to you, and to this bad boy, that will make you my love slave. Forever.”

His heart shot into his throat as she deep-throated him.

Man. He’d never get used to that silky wet heat. A cool rush of air. Another warm wave as she pulled his cock in deep again. And again.

Fuck. It was like being in heaven and hell. He never wanted that sublime sucking to end as much as he couldn’t wait until he reached the glorious end.

He felt Gemma’s hands clamped around his hips. Her thumbs stroked his hipbones, in a gentle erotic arc, an opposite sensation of the hard and fast and—Christ almighty—

wet, wet, wet feel of her mouth bobbing on the entire rigid length. And the occasional scrape of her teeth as she released his cock an inch at a time, the little tease.

She slowed her rapid strokes to suckle just the knob. Her lips tightened around the head of his cock and that nasty, sexy tongue flicked his glans until his legs threatened to give out. He bumped his groin into her face, urging her to take in more of him.

“What did I tell you about trying to bang your hips closer?”


“So you do know the magic word,” she murmured against his abdomen. Once again she sucked and licked and drove him to the brink, then retreated to lap at the crease of his thigh. “You taste all musky and yummy here.”

“Gemma, doll, please. Finish me off.”

“I love making you squirm.”

“Goddamn, you’re good at it too. But I can’t stand much longer.”

“Then come in my mouth this time.”

When she’d given him head in the past month, he’d always pulled out at the moment of truth and come on her tits or her belly or in her pussy.

Thinking of his cock pumping his seed over her tongue and feeling her swallowing part of him seemed more intimate that the act itself. He usually avoided that portion of blowjobs and the women he’d been with hadn’t cared.

Until now.


“Okay. But I’m gonna need to put my hands on your head.”

“Whatever you want.” Then her greedy lips parted and she took him in all the way.

He grabbed her hair. “Open wider.”

She did.

“Get me wet with that hot fuckin’ mouth.”

She made slurping sounds and sexy moans as his cock tunneled in and out.

“Suck harder, JESUS, just like that. Fuck, Gemma. I’m close. Tilt your head. Hold on.” He shoved the last couple inches until he felt the tip of his cock hit her soft palette.

He roared as his balls lifted, and streams of come poured down her throat as he kept her firmly in place and pumped his pelvis.

Even through the dull roar in his ears Cash heard Gemma gulping. After the last spasm, she slowly released him from the haven that was her mouth.

She stood and pushed him back, because he lost the ability to stand.

Maybe his knees were buckling in shame.

Yeah. Bet her late husband never grabbed her by the hair and fucked her face like a savage beast. He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him.

The tangy lemony scent of her shampoo drifted up. He kissed the top of her head then reached down and yanked up his pants.

“Why don’t you hop up on the couch and let me return the favor, eh?”

Without responding, Gemma took his hand and led him through the darkened house and upstairs to her bedroom.

He braced himself, expecting she’d turn on the lights. Had she noticed that every time they’d made love, no matter the position, no matter the time of day, it’d been dark?

Or she’d worn the blindfold?

Yes. But so far she hadn’t mentioned it.

He heard the click of the door shutting.

She said, “Take off your clothes and lay on the bed. Facing up.”

“I like the sound of that.” He stripped. “You have some kinda wicked games planned, Gem?”

No answer. Then her nakedness pressed him into the mattress. She was warm. Soft.

Willing. She smelled like heaven and her body felt like sin. Her lips sought his and she kissed him with tenderness that set his alarm bells ringing.

“Hey. What do you say we get this party started?” He slapped her butt. “Slide on up here and let me taste that pussy.”


“Why? I know you didn’t get off when you were blowin’ my mind. You too tired or something?”

“No. Cash. I want you.”

“And luckily I’m right here.”

She rubbed her cheek over his bare chest. “I love the way you touch me. I love how you push me to the limit. I love how you’ve bulldozed through whatever sexual boundaries I might’ve thought I had. I love every single thing we’ve done together.”


“But it doesn’t always have to bawdy. Sometimes it can be…sweet.”

He froze.

“Let me show you sweet. Let me make love to you. No lights. No sex toys. No games. No dirty talk. Just you and me and the potential of what it can be between us, Cash.”

For once, he wished he could see her face. He reached for her anyway. “Is this because you need sweetness tonight?”

“No.” Gemma’s lips clung to his after she kissed him. “It’s because you do.”

Her words undid him. Because he couldn’t speak, Cash surrendered to her, in body, mind and soul. The night was the sweetest he’d ever known.

Chapter Twenty-two

Carter McKay wasn’t feeling very sweet at all.

The night was so dark it was like swimming in an inkwell. Only a half moon remained. Clouds obscured it and the stars. So much for his plan to take Macie for a romantic horseback ride.

He reined Deacon to a stop beside Gemma’s barn. Then he dismounted, removed the saddle, blanket and bridle, and led his horse into the last stall. He shoveled a bucketful of oats in the trough and stepped from the dim barn outside into the warm night air with a nearly moonless sky.

Instead of working on plan B and deciding which sweet, romantic words to use on Macie, he found himself irritated he had to be thinking of that kind of shit at all. Why was he sneaking in on horseback? Why couldn’t he just drive his damn truck right up to Macie’s door? Who cared what her father thought?

Evidently Macie did. Which meant he had to care too.

Dammit. Carter glanced at Gemma’s house. Pitch black. He walked toward the faint light glowing from Macie’s camper and put his boot on the pullout step. Should he have brought flowers? A bottle of wine? She probably wouldn’t consider a handful of rainbow-colored condoms and a bottle of lube very damn romantic.

He rapped on the door. The music inside ended abruptly. A curtain fluttered and the door swung outward.


“No. It’s me. Carter.”


Was that disappointment in her voice?

She peered behind him, squinting at the darkness. “What are you doing here?

Where’s your truck?”

“I didn’t drive. I rode my horse.”

“Oh. Do you want to come in?”


He’d forgotten how cramped it was in her camper. Especially since they were avoiding touching. He sat on the bench next to the foldout kitchen table.

“How are the projects going? Sculptures this week, right?” she asked.

Carter looked at her. Really looked at her. And was struck dumb by his stupidity and pride. He couldn’t believe he’d grumbled about having to romance her. She was beautiful and sweet and funny; he was the luckiest guy on the planet for getting a chance to woo her.

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