Cowgirls Don't Cry(100)

He growled and brought her down, so she straddled his face. She had no idea how he was breathing, but when he fastened his mouth to her top of her sex and did a sexy rhythmic, slurping thing directly on her clit, she didn’t care. “Yes. Please. Don’t stop.”


Her hands grabbed fistfuls of the quilt as Brandt kept pushing her higher. Each lick. Each suck. Each incredible flicker of his tongue and she was sure her body would simply ignite.

And it did. Jessie pressed her face into the mattress and bit back a scream as her clit pulsed against Brandt’s hot mouth. Despite the blood pounding in her groin, her ears and her throat, she still heard the sexy sounds of him swallowing. Drinking her down.

That set her off again.

When she floated back from that head rushing, body buzzing happy place, she pushed herself back up on her knees. She smoothed back her tangled hair and scooted down Brandt’s upper torso so she could see his face.

His look of cockiness was totally justified. He licked his lips and said, “Mmm. Tasty.”


Jessie fastened her mouth to his, surprising him with an openmouthed kiss, sucking her taste from his tongue, rubbing her face through the sticky glaze on his cheeks, nipping and biting and enjoying his shock.

She said, “Move up and spread out.”


“Jess—”


“No arguments, buster. You agreed. Me. In charge.”


Brandt sighed, but it wasn’t a sigh of frustration.

She pinned his arms above his head and allowed her hands to track the muscles from his wrists down the sinew defining in his forearms, over the bulge of his biceps to the cup of his shoulders. “I never get to touch you enough.”


“Anytime you want, all you want.”


“You’re usually so busy touching me. It makes me lose my mind and I sort of get lost.” She snared her gaze. “That’s not fair to you.”


“If you knew how long I’d dreamed of getting my hands all over you, Jess, you’d know how untrue that statement really is.”


Her belly fluttered. She ducked her head from the intensity in his eyes and let her palms drift over his pectorals. God. There was just something so wholly masculine about a guy with chest hair. This part of his body always smelled good. Not musky like his groin, but earthy. Soap and sweat. She rubbed her lips down the delineated line between his pecs, loving how the crisp hair tickled her chin and cheek. She rubbed her face all over his chest, practically purring.

Brandt’s hand landed on the side of her head and he brushed the hair from her cheek.

She looked up at him. “Did I say you could touch me?”


“No. But I like watchin’ you touchin’ me. It’s sexy as hell.”


“Mmm. So you wanna watch me do this?” Jessie used the tip of her tongue to trace the outline of his right nipple.

His arms broke out in goose flesh. “Christ.”


“I guess you like that.” Jessie closed her eyes and sucked the flat disk until the center drew up into a rigid point. She let her tongue flick back and forth before she sucked hard again. Then she used her teeth.

She felt his cock jumping between their bodies and she curled her hand around the shaft, pumping it while she tongued his nipple.

“Fuck. Oh f*ck.”


Reducing Brandt’s vocabulary to curse words was a good sign. Her lips skimmed his skin as she blindly sought the nipple on the other side. Her mouth enclosed the tiny nub and she got those same hot, sexy noises when she worked it relentlessly.