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Now, I’m standing in the shower, the water running down my body, and I’m trying to breathe through the fact that my cock is refusing to go down. My balls ached all night, and my dick stayed hard the entire damn time. It’s a wonder I’m not left with a permanent imprint of the zipper.
“Christ.” My mouth hungers for another taste of Birdie, to feel the velvet clench of her pussy while I’m fucking her, and this time not with my mouth. My hand moves from the tile wall and wraps around the length of my dick. It’s not going away anytime soon, and Birdie is out of commission. She may think she’s up for my cock, but she isn’t, especially not this week. The way I need her, it won’t be soft and sweet like she deserves. It’ll be fast and hard, and I won’t stop until my cum is buried inside her.
Christ, the last time we were together, I pulled out. I didn’t have a condom on hand, and she wasn’t on birth control at the time. It took everything I had not to lose my load, to tie Birdieto me in a permanent way instead of letting her go off to college. I should have fucking done it, too. By the end of the summer, she would have been pregnant, probably pissed as hell, but then she wouldn’t be black and blue either.
Immediately, a vision of Birdie comes to life. She’s walking around barefoot, wearing my shirt without a stitch of clothing beneath. Her stomach is round with our child. The palm of my hand is slick with water, acting as lube, and the thought of her pregnant only makes my balls draw up tighter. My head drops forward as I imagine all the ways I’m going to take her the second she’s not aching. On her back with her legs over my shoulders. My favorite would be with her on her hands and knees while I fuck my cock into her pussy and my thumb presses into the pucker of her ass.
“Son of a bitch.” My knees buckle at the memory of how hard she comes on my cock when I play with her ass. It’s out of this fucking world. I don’t make it through any further. There’s no time, and there’s no way I can stop myself from coming. All night was a version of foreplay I wasn’t prepared for. I squeeze my length, thumb pressing down on the head, and watch as cum shoots out of my body. A damn waste when it could be inside Birdie’s mouth, her pussy, her ass, or even painted on her skin. I grab the soap, do a quick wash, and rinse. I’ve already been in here too long. It’s time for me to get this show on theroad. I turn the water off, grab my towel, do a quick dry off, and wrap the towel around my waist before stepping out of the shower.
“Fuck,” I mutter, hearing my phone ringing in the distance. I stopped on my way home to look in on the cows, making sure everything was okay, checking the pregnant ones, seeing if any of them calved before I headed to my place. I’m sure a couple of the employees saw me even though none of them acknowledged me, which was probably a good thing, too.
My clothes were a wrinkled mess, and I still wasn’t quite awake and coherent. So, if they did say something, chances are I wouldn’t have any recollection of it. The somewhat of a downfall of them seeing me is them telling my parents where I’m at, and usually, the phone starts ringing off the hook. At least this time, I got a shower in first.
“Hello.” I slide my thumb across the glass screen, hit the speakerphone, and take the phone with me.
“Hey, honey, you coming over to the house this morning?” Mom asks.
“Don’t I always?”
“Well, yeah, but Eleanor said you spent the night, and I wasn’t sure if you’d be bringing Birdie with you.” I should have known better. Eleanor and my mom are as close as sisters these days.
“She’s still asleep. I’m going to get some clothes on, eat some food, stop at the house, andthen head back to Birdie’s,” I tell her while walking to the kitchen. When Mom and Dad gave each of us boys a few acres on the farm, it was with the intention they’d stay within the family. We’d build our house and pay taxes on it.
So far, there’s only one brother who hasn’t finished building his place. He’s also two years older than me. Ryland is twenty-nine, a single dad, and the only reason he hasn’t gotten his ass handed to him about taking as long as he has with the build of his place is my nephew, Case. He’s only four months old and not sleeping through the night yet. We’ve all picked up where we could on Ry’s house, but it’s taking time. The ranch never rests, which makes it that much harder.
“Well, don’t hog the poor girl. I haven’t seen her in too long.” I roll my eyes. Mom went with Eleanor on a few of their trips to Colorado.
“Catherine Johnson, leave the two of them alone. You saw her more than Lane did, and it’s kind of hard to see someone who’s asleep,” Dad pipes in.
“Alright, alright. Your birthday dinner and dessert are in the fridge. Your spare key is under the mat now, too.”
“About time,” I hear Dad say in the background. My mother has a penchant for putting the phone on speaker, and today is no different.
“Hush, you, I’m glad our son is finally going after what he should have years ago.Though, I am glad he let Birdie spread her wings, so to speak. Anyways, come on over whenever. The pot of coffee is on, and breakfast is waiting.” That’s the last thing I hear before the phone line goes dead. At least this time, she hung up the phone before I heard something a son should never hear. One time, Mom thought she ended the call when she didn’t. It was actually a FaceTime call, and I couldn’t hit the end button fast enough. How Ryland still lives there is beyond me. As long as I don’t have to see more than I already did, it’s his problem. For now, it’s time to make my cup of coffee, get dressed, and get this show on the road.
7
BIRDIE
“Good morning, sleepyhead,”Mom greets me the next morning. I slept like a baby, probably because Lane stayed with me the whole night. I’m not sure I even moved most of the night. It wasn’t until Lane kissed my throat, muttered he’d see me later, and placed the pillow he used in his place that I fell back to sleep.
When I woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the sheer curtains, and my nose was buried in Lane’s pillow. The spicy scent of leather, cardamom, and Lane had my legs clenching together, which, of course, triggered the pain in my ribs and abdomen. The over-the-counter pain reliever had worn off sometime during my slumber, and I needed another dose, stat.
I rolled out of bed, grabbing the bottle of water that magically appeared on my nightstand,as well as the bottle of medicine. It didn’t matter that my bladder was protesting. I tossed the pills back, chugged some water, and then went about my business. Secretly, I hoped it would kick in before now. Surprise, it didn’t, and putting on a pair of sleep shorts never hurt so bad.
“Good morning. Sorry I slept so late.” I glance at the clock on the stove, another shock hitting me when I realize it’s nearly noon.
“Not a problem, honey. Lane said to call him when you woke up,” Mom says with a smile. Meanwhile, I can feel the color blossom on my cheeks and neck. Jesus, I’m twenty-two, nearly twenty-three. I should not feel like I’ve been caught red-handed sneaking Lane into the house.
“Uh, about that.” I bring the cup of coffee to my lips. It’s so hot even with the cold creamer. The beauty of Mom having a pot of coffee on at all hours of the day, much like the Johnsons. My mom and their mom always have coffee, snacks, and then lunch ready for the employees who help them out. Speaking of, Mom is usually out in the field by this time, with a big straw hat on her head, a basket to collect flowers, and an apron to keep her extra cutters.
“I’m not worried about Lane sleeping in your bed. I figure it won’t be long until you’re living with him at his house. So I’ll take you while I can.” I nearly choke on my coffee. Which would suck, considering burning your throat is ten times worse than burning your tongue.
“Mom, I don’t think that will happen. I have Rocky and Tully coming. She’s moving to Arrowleaf and will be the new girl in town. What kind of friend would I be if I abandoned her as soon as she got here?” Alright, sue me. The idea of living with Lane is amazing. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up in them, well, it would be chef’s kiss. Except I’m not even sure how to bring that up, and I’ve already said I wouldn’t leave Tully.
“Honey, you act like Tully is going to move into the house. She’s not, and you already know Lane isn’t going to say no to you. My granddog is easy, small, behaves, and sleeps most of the day away.” Yet again, Mom is right. She always is.
Tully is renting—yes, renting—because she refuses to take any type of handout whatsoever. The place she’s staying at is on Mom’s land. It was once a greenhouse. Mom said it was too pretty to house only her flowers, a relic of sorts. Mom renovated and turned it into a pretty cottage. She kept the original blueprint of the greenhouse since it was pretty big. The windows, sink, and anything she could repurpose, she did. They settled on a price over the phone two days ago, and everything was signed and sealed.
