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I sat on my sofa and rubbed my swollen cock, took a few more swigs of the golden liquid. As my muscles relaxed and my inhibitions lowered, I thought,Why the fuck not?
With one hand, I tugged down my zipper.
Next, I unfastened my rodeo belt buckle, the one I’d won five years ago at the Burntwood Bareback Bronc Competition, my last event. I’d joined the Hells Bells MC and wouldn’t have time or the gumption to do rodeos anymore.
I took another drink, then put the bottle on the coffee table, and freed my jealous dick and collected pre-cum on my fist to rub out a release.
She looked so goddamn gorgeous. Smelled just as I remembered. I would do anything to plow into her addictive pussy and fuck her until she couldn’t remember her name or why she’d left me.
I wrapped my giant mitt around my equally gigantic cock and squeezed the base, exhaling pent up tension. I slowly glided my palm to the head, rubbed my thumb across the slit, then back to the starting point.
Tonight was a clusterfuck. I’d let my guard down like Ella had told me to do, and it backfired. Why had I listened to her? She might’ve been my friend, but she didn’t know me, not in the emotional sense, anyway.
I growled and hissed, repeating the stroking, repeating the squeezing.
Her auburn hair was longer and would make getting my hand tangled in it a whole helluva lot of fun, especially when she sucked me off.
I roared into the empty room, my speed increasing.
My head flopped back on the couch, and I closed my eyes. The tequila was doing its job, and I was feeling fucking fantastic beating my meat.
Memories rolled in and transported me back in time to when she was mine.
Mine.
Mine.
Fucking mine…
I ogled her perky ass, loving the way her tight denim shorts hugged each cheek like a second layer of skin. It drove me wild when she wore anything that showed off her tan legs. I could hardly contain the lust I felt, me and every other leering asshole.
She climbed the wooden ladder up to the hayloft quickly to put distance between us, and to show her skills. I had to admit, she’d improved since our last romp in the hay. Knowing Shelby as I did, she had probably been training on the ladder in her own barn.
“Stop staring at my butt and get up here. I feel your eyes on me, like a glowing laser gun.” At the top, she lifted her tank top and flashed her titties.
“You know what those damn shorts do to me, Honeybee. I’m going to spank your bottom for teasing me.” I raced up the restof the way, a grin playing on my lips as I listened to her sweet giggles.
“Only if you can find me.”
“Trust me. I’ll find you and punish you for flashing the whole barn. What if a farmhand saw you, or worse, my dad?”
“Ew, Cade! Don’t be gross.” She cackled, and it was the cutest sound I’d heard come out of her mouth.
“Just stating the possibilities, baby. Any number of workers could’ve seen you. And frankly, I’m not okay with anyone seeing my girl. You hear me, Honeybee?” I reached the top and stood.
Sure enough. She was nowhere to be found and quiet as a mouse.
Me and the new kid I was training had unloaded a truck full of bales and stacked them up here. Surprisingly, the young dude, Lance, had kept up with me. He was a freshman in high school, six years younger than me, but just as strong. Lance played football and from what I’d been told; he was a fucking awesome tight end. So good, the coaches had moved him up to the varsity team.
I definitely didn’t want Lance to see my woman’s luscious ass or tits. He’d met her the other day and the dude nearly fell on his knees to worship her. Shelby had that effect on most men, young and old, and she ate up the attention.
But I hadn’t been keen on Lance blushing in front of my woman, so I put his ass to work mending fences. Once my girl returned to college tomorrow, I’d teach him a thing or two about eye fucking another man’s woman. It wasn’t cool and could get both of his legs broken, and that would be that. Football career over.
“Honeybee, it’s not nice to hide from your man. It’s been a long week and I need your sweet pussy.”
She gasped, and I whipped my head to the left side of the loft. My dirty talk always shocked her. Usually, we’d be going at it hot and heavy when I threw out words like pussy and cock, but what made her purr was when I told her she was a good girl. Damn, my woman loved to be praised, and I loved praising her.
I crept in the direction I’d heard her, veered around a tall stack of bales, and froze. “Shelby,” I said, nearly choking on my spit. Was I dreaming?
