Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) Page 5

  Jaxson is at the fireplace, shoulders tight. Kneeling down, his shirt tightens across his back muscles as he twists to look at me when I cross to one of the exposed beams. Touching it, I ask, “Is this reclaimed wood?”

  “You have a good eye.”

  “Did you do all this yourself?”

  Knotting newspaper sheets into kindling and staggering them over a thin layer of ash, he explains, “I designed it. Some men helped build it. And yes, I worked with them until it was finished.”

  “It’s beautiful, Jaxson.”

  “It is,” he says as he glances to me one more time.

  The primal glint in his eyes brings it to my attention that we are alone now.

  Far away from anyone.

  Our parents can’t find us.

  Ryan can’t find me.

  Holy crap. What am I doing here?

  I swallow and rest my back against the square beam.

  The undulation of his muscles as he shoves twigs under the grate and piles three logs in a triangle on top, mesmerizes me. I have an alarming reaction to that arm-tattoo. I know ‘everyone’s’ getting them, but not in the circles I run in.

  I can’t help but imagine him without that shirt because his body is incredible and I am a grown woman after all. Those sinewy forearms flexing as he works, his strong thighs adjusting his weight, the way his shirt tugs across his shoulders – all this has me in a spell where all I can think about is sex.

  When we were children and he kissed me it was chaste and innocent. Sweet. But now we’re adults. Neither of us is a virgin and from that cocky assuredness he carries in his natural gait, I know the grown up Jaxson Cocker is not the least bit insecure in the bedroom.

  Pulling a long match from a metal box he flicks it off the iron, waiting for the tiny twigs to ignite as he touches the flame to them. Satisfied it will be enough to catch the wood, he tosses the match on top.

  My heart races as he stands up and with his back still to me, runs his hands through his hair. His ass and large back are so perfect I bite my lip as heat pools between my thighs.

  He slowly turns around to take me in. There’s a bulge in his jeans now and by the determined look on his face he knows I see it. He crosses his arms making no excuses for it, and his deep green eyes take a hungry stroll down my body and then right back up.

  Thickly he calls me out. “You’re nervous.”

  “Nope.”

  That familiar smirk appears. “Yes you are.”

  “Well, let’s talk about something then!”

  An amused smile flashes as he shifts his legs out a little wider. My eyes flick to his crotch and back up, an action he doesn’t miss. “How’ve you been, Rachel?”

  I make what sounds like a strangled laugh. “For the past two decades? I’ve been good. Yeah, no complaints.”

  “Still can’t believe you’re in my house.”

  Alone in your house. And you’re so fucking stunning I can hardly look at you.

  I choke, “So…how have you been, Jaxson?”

  “Really good. I’m happy.” He’s staring at me like he wants to stop talking.

  Suddenly it feels like I’ve never been with a man. Like this is my first time or something. I feel like a kid again, like I might start giggling if he tries to kiss me and hoping to God he does.

  I mutter, “That’s great. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

  He starts walking toward me and my breath hitches as his eyes darken with lust.

  I push my back further into the beam and rasp, “Oh God. Now what do we do?”

  “What do you want to do, Rachel?”

  And there’s that fucking smirk again. Hot damn.

  Rachel

  On a quiet moan I beg him, “Don’t ask me that. I don’t know what I want.”

  Lie. Lie. Lie.

  But we all need to lie to ourselves a little, sometimes, don’t we?

  Jaxson cocks his gorgeous head to hold my attention. “Rachel, I need you going into this with open eyes.”

  “What about you? Are yours closed?”

  He shakes his head just once and as he thinks of how to answer that, glances to the side and licks his lips. I want those on me right now even though I suspect if I were a better woman I should be on a flight to New York to try and mend things with my boyfriend.

  The boyfriend who told me he wanted a break.

  Then lied to my mother so he could start it right away.

  After I asked him not to go.

  “Jaxson,” I murmur, wanting to hear his answer. “Are you aware this is a disaster waiting to happen?”

  “Yes, I am.” He cuts a quick glance to my parted lips. “I know you love him. And I can tell by your expensive dress and hot-as-fuck heels that you’re a city girl now. That means you don’t belong here. I also know that I have to kiss you and I don’t give a damn about what comes later.”

  He’s on me, crushing me in a kiss so thrilling my knees start to buckle. His arm slips around me fast, and he holds me up as his jaw unlocks mine. Our tongues touch for the very first time.

  The kiss becomes desperate until we’re careening across the room to slam into a wall. We don’t come up for air for a very long time.

  He pulls away, catching his breath to stare at me a second with a stunned look on his face. I feel exactly the same way. But I’m here now and I’m not turning back.

  To show him, I throw my arms above my head, holding his eyes while in this most submissive stance.

  Jaxson groans and runs rough hands down my willing body, watching their travel down. He brushes his lips against mine then shakes his head a little. Moistened lips whisper down my panting neck as he grips my ass and pulls me against his stiff bulge. On impact he growls into my collarbone.

  Our mouths lock again, moving and sculpting slowly, then fast, then slow again. As we kiss he pins my arms higher and grinds into me, sending an ache into me I’ve never felt.

  With his knee and one hand he hikes the skirt of my dress up so that my panties become exposed. I feel the air warmed by the flickering flames and that heat reaches up the highest points of my thighs. I can tell he’s hung like a beast.

  It feels so good I want to cry, or scream, or tear him to shreds.

  “Come on,” he growls, lifting me up so that I’m straddling his hips as he carries me closer to the fireplace, kissing me the whole way. As he stands me up my legs are like wet noodles. Leaving me for the staircase, he looks over his shoulder and shakes his head like he can’t believe how badly he wants me.

  He thickly rasps, “Stay here,” before he disappears upstairs.

  Waiting I run a hand over my messy hair, my skirt still around my waist. I almost tug it down but decide I like it the way it is.

  Reappearing a moment later with a white sheep-fur rug, Jaxson brings it over to lay before the fire. His eyes lock onto my silk and very wet panties. He licks his lips and my pussy clenches in response, begging for his touch.

  Jaxson pulls me to lie on the rug, kneeling before me as my hair splays out. He’s watching my face as he rubs my pussy through the moistened fabric. I’m moaning and boneless as he caresses me with such skill it becomes obvious once more that I was right about him. The way he’s touching me, he’s gotten practice by being a talented lover for many women.

  Many women.

  Suddenly I’m jealous.

  Like seeing-red jealous.

  I am so inexplicably pissed and hurt that I rise up and slap him.

  He freezes, staring at me, as shocked as I am.

  My lips part. His form a grim line.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe. “You’re so good at that and I know you learned it somewhere else. And I…I…hate it.”

  He’s panting softly as the flames trace red-orange light along the side of his sharp features. I stop apologizing because my explanation sounds stupid and makes no sense. It’s not like I was here and he chose them over me.

  I’m the one who moved away.

  I had no choice. I w
as just a kid.

  But when that decision was made for me, I also lost my friend.

  But haven’t we always been more than friends?

  “I’m sorry I hit you, Jaxson,” I whisper.

  He looks like he’s going to get up and leave me lying here.

  Instead, he grabs my shoulders then fists my hair and kisses me hard, craning me back to deepen the kiss as I claw at his chest, feeling all the hills and valleys of his muscles through the denim shirt. We slip to the floor and I’m half-fighting him off and half-pulling him closer. I’ve never been like this before. I want to hurt him and I want to hold him.

  “Rachel,” he rasps. “I know how you feel.”

  One of my thighs gets lifted and he hooks my foot around his ass, halfway up on his knees, pulling my butt off the ground as he grinds into me kissing me like crazy. Low moans escape our gasping lips.

  I know how you feel.

  I’m on the verge of tears. A deep frown creases his handsome features as he notices but I shake my head and whisper to him, “Just don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  His nostrils flare on a decision and he pulls at my dress so violently it rips. I give his denim shirt a rough yank, and two buttons explode off it.

  “Fuck, I can’t get close enough to you,” he growls, unsnapping his belt buckle as he lunges down and captures me in another amazing kiss.

  I don’t have time to see what’s coming. I’ve felt it through his jeans, and now I’m going to feel it inside me before I even see it. He yanks my panties to the side and slides his cock into my wetness so quickly that I yelp at his size and dig my fingers into his back, my own sharply arching. A low moan tears out of my core as he stretches my inner walls quickly.

  Jaxson groans and, gripping one of my thighs to pull me off the rug, drives his manhood in to the hilt. I yelp again.

  “Am I hurting you?” he demands, his voice deep with lust.

  “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

  “Whatever you say, Rach.”

  We’re half on our sides and he starts grinding with long sure thrusts.

  “You’re so tight,” he growls, reaching for my tongue with his, cock growing harder.

  He starts fucking me like he’s making up for lost time.

  “Oh God!!” I scream as a burst of pleasure tears through me.

  “So wet,” he groans. “God, you’re so fucking wet!”

  He changes rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and then sliding back in so slowly and deeply that I start to writhe. “Jaxson,” I whimper as my orgasm breaks and hums a steady beat.

  Grunting through clenched teeth, Jaxson holds his own climax in check to fuck me in a way that deliberately stretches my orgasm into the most intense one of my life.

  When after it wanes, I stare up at him, stunned and tingling all over.

  He’s smiling at me. “You’re beautiful.”

  Speechless, my eyelashes flutter as Jaxson Cocker traces my lips with calloused fingertips. He slowly pulls out of me.

  “No,” I moan. “Don’t go.”

  “Shhhh.” He slips my panties down my legs. “We’ve made a mess of these.” As he tosses them, I glance down. My eyes literally go wide.

  I felt it. Oh boy did I feel it.

  But seeing his gorgeous cock is an altogether more compelling experience.

  He is fucking enormous, wet and glittering in the firelight.

  Staring at it, I whisper, “You’re beautiful, too.”

  Jaxson chuckles and bends to kiss his way up to my stomach, starting at my calves and slowly traveling. He takes my breasts in both hands and massages one while kissing and tonguing the other, his erect cock against my leg. My back arches on a moan as he arouses my nipples into painfully sharp points.

  He sits back on his knees to slowly spread my legs so he can take a good long look at my naked, wet pussy. “Looks as good as she feels,” he smiles, dipping down to have a lick. “Slippery, tight little pussy,” he growls into my sensitive folds.

  I whisper in awe, “Dirty talk,” because I never hear dirty talk and I’m surprised how much I like it.

  As his tongue sharpens and flicks my clit like they should teach at colleges across America, I cry out and moan like I have never moaned before.

  He’s found the right spot and pays it close attention, driving me to the point of madness until I scream, “I need you inside me! Please fuck me! I need it!”

  He yanks me by my hips straight onto his cock without so much as a warning, filling and stretching me so quickly I gasp. He groans low and guttural as his head falls back under the pleasure as he pumps between my thighs. The veins are pulsing wildly on his thick neck, tattoos rippling on his chest and down his left arm.

  I claw my way up his body, straddling his lap like I’ve just woken up for the first time.

  I grab the back of Jaxson’s head and kiss him hard, our open lips careening into each other without shame. As we bite and lick each other he starts fucking me rougher and faster. I ride him like this until he roars. His girth fills to its fullest right before he shouts, “Holy fucking hell!” and explodes, his orgasm so primal I find myself falling over the cliff too, joining him, moaning into each other’s panting lips as we cum together.

  When he lays us back down he easily stays inside me. Lazily sliding his hand over my hip, he pauses because the nearby fire was a little too hot against my bare skin.

  “Here,” he murmurs, pulling the soft rug up against my reddened hip. “I didn’t know you were overheating.”

  “Didn’t you?” I smile.

  He laughs into my neck and presses slow caressing kisses there for a deliciously long time.

  Jaxson

  At the distant crow of Hank, I wake in bed, blinking the lack of sleep away. I got maybe an hour. The blanket is covering Rachel. Even her creamy shoulders are hidden. Her hair is wavy from the shower we took together after a couple more rounds of reacquainting ourselves. The shower saw more action than it has in a couple years, too.

  But it’s Sunday now, isn’t it?

  Back to him.

  My time with her is soon over.

  In the stable I get relief from obsessing about this mess I’ve put myself in, with the familiar rituals I do every day of my life. Each of my twenty-two cows gets attached to the milking parlor, a row of machines designed to make this process time-efficient and easy for all involved. Starting at one end of the row, with the first cow done, I strain the warm white liquid into a stainless steel bucket and bring it to the milk tank where it stays at the correct cooled temperature until the guys pick it up for turning into whatever they like.

  Connie moos loudly as I go to let them out.

  Smiling, I walk over.

  “Hey Con, did I almost forget to pet you? My mind is elsewhere, girl. My apologies.” Stroking her thick neck until she calms down, I comfort her with promises of good weather. “You ready for some sunlight? Looks clear today.”

  She vocalizes her approval, the most social of my girls.

  Strolling to the gate, I crack it open so they have to exit in single file where I can touch each one as they amble past me into the golden grey light of morning to graze on the three-hundred and forty acres I bought on a loan right out of college. When my grandfather passed he left all of us boys enough that I was able to pay that off.

  I always wanted this life.

  It’s a lot of work running a healthy farm, but it’s soul soothing for a man like me.

  Lots of quiet. Lots of hands-on labor.

  It’s the reason I was in shape enough to go all night with Rachel, since gyms bore the shit out of me.

  Rachel.

  Shading my eyes as I gaze west, I try to see her walking around through my bedroom window. She’s probably still dreaming.

  I don’t know what’s about to happen, especially since I’m not altogether clear on what I want. Never planned this.

  In Georgia you have screen doors because the bugs’ll try and fly away with you i
f you give them a chance. I’ve got two screens, one for the enclosed patio, the other for my house, which I have to get fixed. Missing the lever that is supposed to keep it from slamming, it hits the doorframe hard behind me.

  With the noise having woken her, Rachel calls down in a sleepy voice from the bedroom, “Jaxson?”

  “I’m here!” I reassure her. “I’m just gonna make some coffee.”

  She calls down, voice losing steam, “Not yet. Come back.”

  “Be right up.”

  Washing my hands in the kitchen sink, I turn and set my cowboy hat on an antique, bare-wood chair. Staring out the window for about five minutes I obsess all over again about what comes next with us.

  Fucking New York City of all places.

  I decide to wait on coffee and take advantage of what little time I have left.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I find her back asleep. Her naked body is shifted toward me now. The blanket has slipped down, exposing a breast held softly by gravity. Her pink lips are open and as I watch her lightly snoring I cross my arms over my white tank, old jeans hanging low without the belt.

  She looks like a fuckin’ angel, that’s the problem.

  Tearing off my clothes I climb in with her.

  She mews like a cat as my naked body enfolds hers.

  She smells like my pine-scented soap, but her own smell is mixed in. Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and swear inwardly that I am not ready for these feelings, especially not under the circumstances.

  Maybe not ever.

  Half in dreamland Rachel Sawyer presses her ass into me and murmurs something unintelligible. My cock has chosen to ignore my mind’s reservations. It only remembers the four times it was inside her. She moans, as my erection grows more urgent.

  “I know you’re sore,” I rasp into her shoulder.

  “You feel amazing, Jaxson. I’ll warm up. Don’t stop.”

  Those words are an aphrodisiac to any man, but to me they’re a dissolving of my doubts, at least for the time being.

  I flip her onto her stomach and slip my fingers slowly into her cunt until I get her wet and moaning with desire for more, angling her so that when I position myself behind her I can get in deep.