22. PRESTON
Chapter twenty-two
PRESTON
TRADING PLACES NEVER FELT SO GOOD
I can’t believe his brother set all this up just for us. It’s another reminder of how connected he is to his family. They have this bond I guess I’ll never really understand, being an only child. But it’s not just Nial, or his brother and sister in Savannah. It’s all of them. The people who work on Beaker Brothers Ranch are like family to him, too. It’s that feeling, like you have a place in this world, that was a strong part of why I knew I’d always be back here in Bellerelle. This town knows me. They hold the memories of my father, my childhood, almost my whole life, and I want so bad to one day have what Dean does. A big family that will always be there for each other. It’s been just me and mom for a few years now and I love her with all my heart, but I want us to have more. We have Poppy, and by some extension Isabel and her parents, now, but it’s not like this. I bet Poppy would love to have a brother or sister one day.
Dean is relaxed against the hay bale, eyes locked on the screen, but his lips are moving just a little. Then it clicks. They’re moving in time with the lyrics to the song playing. Calamity and Bill are singing about the country they love, the Black Hills, and he’s mouthing both parts. Several people down below are singing along, their chorus carrying on the cool night air, and I can tell he wants to be one of them.
I don’t know this movie as well as he clearly does but the lyrics repeat from an earlier part, and I softly sing along nudging his side.
“Don’t make me sing alone,” I say and his smile widens as he lets himself let go of whatever nerves he might have about singing in front of me and his rich voice grows louder until we’re both performing like we’re on some small stage like the one Katie Brown performs on in the movie. The song is over way too fast, but as the music settles, he leans against me, resting his head on my shoulder as the movie plays on.
My gaze moves to where he’s placed his hand palm down on his thigh beside me and I hesitate, lacing my fingers together in my lap. My stomach a flurry of nerves growing wilder as I contemplate reaching for his hand. What if he pulls away? What if he doesn’t?
I try to take a steadying breath but I’m filled with his scent mixed with the cool night air and buttery popcorn, and it just makes my heartbeat faster.
Okay, here goes. I unlink my fingers and slowly edge my hand closer to his. My pinky touches first, brushing alongside his hand, warm, soft, and perfect, and before I lose my nerve, I slip my fingers under his palm turning it over and entwine my fingers with his.
He doesn’t pull away. He welcomes my touch and when his thumb starts to sweep across the back of my hand sending tiny vibrations all the way through my body, I finally relax, and we stay like that, resting against each other, his hand in mine and singing along to the movie until the credits roll and the people below start to get moving.
“I’ll go down first, that way if you stumble, at least you’ll fall on me and not the ground,” I tell him taking the stairs two at a time to the hay-covered ground.
He pauses at the top for a moment eyeing me suspiciously.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I was just wondering how much it would hurt to fall down the stairs.”
I shake my head. You don’t have to injure yourself to wind up on top.”
“Good to know.”
“I think I just found my new favorite spot,” he says glancing back up at the loft when he finally reaches the bottom.
“It was nice, though the couples cuddling with the cows looked like they were pretty comfortable, too.”
“Oh, I bet. Cows are like mini heaters, perfect for the cool night air to keep you nice and toasty. You remember…” He blushes and rubs the back of his neck.
I remember perfectly. The last time we kissed, we were leaning on Miss Milky out on the paddock watching the sunset, and then I ran away. It was, unbeknownst to him, also the start of a very vivid fantasy I played out in the shower shortly after.
“I’ll walk you back,” I say, and he looks over at where Nial and Connor are starting to pack up. The guests are already headed back to their cabins, and car headlights moving through the space indicate the guests from town are starting to head home, too.
“I should probably help out,” Dean says, and I smile, even though I’m disappointed, because as much as it was a perfectly romantic night in the loft, alone with Dean. We weren’t really alone. There were fifty-odd people down below, and two of them were my daughter and her mother. I don’t think they even saw me up here, but as much as I wanted to kiss Dean and just forget the movie was even on, I couldn’t. I haven’t told Isabel about me yet. How do you even tell your ex, the woman who had your child that she was the last woman you ever loved because shortly after she broke your heart, you discovered you love men?
“I’ll help, too.”
Nial jogs over.
“Nope, both of you head back. We’re good here.”
“I can help,” Dean says, shuffling forward, but Nial places a hand against his brother’s chest and glances at me briefly before squaring down with Dean.
“I said we’re good. We have his royal highness helping out. You go.”
Dean glances at where the eldest son from the neighboring farm is stacking chairs, then turns to me. “Looks like we’re not needed after all,” he says, and Nial jogs away. Dean takes a step, the walking stick slides on loose gravel, and he wobbles. Without thinking, I grab his arm.
“I got you,” I say, not letting go. I link my arm with his and let him lean on me for support as we slowly walk toward his house.
The traditional farmhouse sits proud, bathed in moonlight like it’s done for over a hundred years. With so many farms being bought up and turned into something else, it’s good to see the history of Bellerelle still standing strong. While my family moved out here only three generations ago, the Beakers have been a part of the town since it came to be, which is not really surprising when you look at a map and see not only Beaker Brother’s Ranch, but Beaker Creek, and Beaker Road. Funnily enough, Beaker Road doesn’t lead to the Beaker Brothers Ranch. Instead, it’s the road to the church where one of his distant relatives used to be a preacher. The Beakers helped build this town, and it brings warmth to my chest seeing how Dean is helping keep that tradition going.
“I always loved your house,” I say as we step up to the door.
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’d come out with Dad when he was checking on the herd or called out for some emergency, and I always looked up at it thinking how amazing it must be to grow up here.”
Dean’s gaze moves around the space, the smile on his lips spread a little wider.
“I guess it was pretty great. Ummm, do you want to…maybe…come drink?”
His cheeks blush bright enough I can see them under the soft light, and I reach up slowly and brush the back of my fingers along his cheek.
“A drink would be great, but first, I’d like to do something I’ve been waiting to do since the start of the night.”
He meets my gaze.
“You mean when you walked in on me wearing a towel?”
“Yeah,” I reply, and I slide my fingers behind his neck, slipping into his hair. I pull him in close, our lips lightly brush, and then I’m kissing him.
He grabs my hips and holds me tight, my cock thickening with a desperate need for a repeat of the last time he held me like this.
As fast as it started, it stops. He pulls away and then takes a step back, chest heaving in time with mine.
“We should…” He begins looking past me, and I follow his gaze to the dim scattered lights of where the guys are still clearing up after tonight’s event.
I’m scared he’s going to say this was a mistake, that we can’t do this here, now, ever. A lump forms in my throat.
“It’s okay,” I say, but he takes the handle behind him with one hand and grabs mine with the other.
“We should go upstairs,” he says, and a swarm of butterflies swirl inside my gut as he pulls me into the house, and we rush up the stairs, his booted leg moving faster than I’ve seen him go in weeks. The second we’re behind his bedroom door, his mouth is on mine again, and he’s sliding his hands up the hem of my shirt, the rough calluses of his palms scratching in delightful sweeps over my skin.
He kisses me hard, greedily, and I love it. Pulling me toward the bed, we fall onto it together, his hard body blanketing mine before he breaks our kiss and lets out a painful moan.
“Fuck,” he says, lifting his body half up.
“Sorry.”
He chuckles. “What are you apologizing for, Doc? It’s this leg that ought to be sorry for getting in the way.”
“How about we try something different?” I ask, and I slide out from under him and climb from the bed.
“I’m good with different.” He chuckles.
“We’ll start with this,” I say, and I take his shoe off, leaving the boot on his fractured leg alone. “Scoot your ass up.”
He does, and when he’s resting his head on the pillow of his bed, I grab one of the other pillows and prop his injured leg up with it, slightly out to the side and away from where it can be easily knocked. “Now keep that there.”
I kick off my shoes and move around the four-poster bed, one of the old kinds, with ornately carved posts that finish with an acorn shape at the top, taller than me. Climbing onto the mattress, I’m careful not to jostle him too much as I move up between his legs, my gaze locked on him as I go.
“Now that there’s a beautiful thing,” he says.
“What is?”
“You between my legs.”
My cheeks burn as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, and I help lift it all the way up over my head and toss it to the floor and then I make a start unbuttoning his shirt, but it’s like my fingers won’t work and it takes three attempts to get the first undone.
“Are these like sewn in place,” I ask, going for the second.
“How about this then?” he asks sitting up as I shift back, sitting on my heels between his legs and then he pulls it up and off and throws it to the side. The moonlight is streaming in from the open windows that overlook the ranch and I’m surrounded by his sweet woody scent, more than ever before.
My gaze sweeps over his chest. His muscles are perfectly defined, his skin golden from decades under the sun, and there’s a scar on his stomach where the soft hairs no longer grow. I wonder how he got that? My whole body is on fire, nerves swirling like flames fed by the sight of him. I sweep my thumb over the soft skin of the scar, then slide my hands all the way up his body and over his pecks.
“You’re perfect,” I whisper, leaning in to run my tongue over his sweat-glistened skin, but I pause when I spot two tiny freckles above his right nipple that look just like a vampire bite. If I were a vampire, I know I’d be unable to resist the draw of him, I’m human, and it’s taking every inch of my control to not ravage him right here and now.
“I want to kiss you so bad, come up here,” he begs, and I glance up through my lashes, then wrap my mouth around his hard nipple and suck.
“Urgh, fuck that’s good,” he groans, and his hand comes up to grip the back of my neck, only this time it’s distinctly different. This time the sound urges me on, and I swirl my tongue over the vampire bite before sucking his nipple into my mouth again. His large hands grip my arms and he pulls me up, my lips coming off with a pop before he pulls me back down toward him and he kisses me hard, his tongue fighting mine for control, desperate, needy, and fucking delicious. Urging him back onto the bed, my body blankets his, and my hard cock presses against him.
I moan into his mouth. His other hand slides down my back and past the waist of my pants to grab my ass and he lifts his hips.
“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” I moan, breaking our kiss and moving my mouth along his clean-shaven jaw, the slightest scruff prickles my lips like soft pinpricks as I go. I kiss down his neck, all the while grinding my throbbing cock, it aching, begging to be set free.
I push back onto my knees again. “I think the pants need to go.”
A blush rises to his cheeks and I climb over his good leg and grab the waist of his dark gray sweats and pull them down. His hard thick cock set free to slap against his stomach.
“Much better,” I say taking them all the way off over his good leg first then carefully take them past his booted leg too. “The sweatpants were a great idea.”
I climb back between his legs and slide my palm up over his balls before I give them a soft squeeze.
“Hmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering closed for a moment.
“You like that, huh?”
“Oh yeah, everything you do to me is so good.”
“How about this?” I ask and I grip his cock and give it a long slow stroke.
“So good,” he breathes, propping one hand behind his head making the muscles of his arm bulge. I pump his cock, making his dark eyes flutter. His length hardening with every stroke. His chest moves faster, matching the pace as my cock throbs and begs to be free so while working him in one hand I go to slide my other down the front of my pants when he stops me
“Wait,” he says, and I freeze mid-stroke.
“I can’t see you properly if you’re all the way down there,” he says, licking his lips.
“Well, we can’t have that now can we,” I reply and I climb off the bed again. “Fast or slow?”
“Slow,” he replies, leaning back on his hands and I unbutton the waist of my cargo pants and pull down the fly. He licks his lips in a way that makes my cock pulse drawing his gaze. “Very, very slow.”
“As you wish.”
I start to inch my pants and underwear down together, his lustful stare following my every move.
“Is this slow enough?”
“Perfect, but don’t stop now.”
I turn my back and look over my shoulder at him. His eyes sweep over my back and it’s incredible being looked at in the way he’s watching me now. He wants me. I can see it in his eyes, in the way he’s leaning a little forward, feeling the same magnetic pull I feel when I’m near him.
“How’s this?” I as sliding the pants over my ass as I lean slightly forward to pop it out a little.
“Fucking perfect.”
I turn back slowly, my hard cock begging to be free, and as I finally take my pants all the way past, it springs out declaring itself in a way that makes him smile.
“Much better,” he says, lying back, sprawled out, tanned body glistening, and I run my gaze over him once more, trying to memorize every inch, because if this never happens again, I want to remember it all exactly as he is.
“You are just so fucking sexy,” he says and I swallow the nervous lump that’s risen in my throat. “Get on over here, Doc.”
I climb back onto the bed, my hands a little shaky as I glide them up his chest this time. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. But I am. My heart is racing, my fingers tremble against his sun-kissed skin, and my mouth has gone impossibly dry. Maybe it’s because this isn’t some random heated hookup in a barn or a make-out session in a field. This is Dean.
“I’m glad you asked me out,” I say as his hands hold my waist and maneuver me above him, and then he lowers me slowly down. The heat from his body pressed against mine brings every nerve alive. My head spins and it’s like I’m a teenager again. Except this isn’t just lust, this is something far scarier, this is something real.
He kisses my lips softly. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Doc?”
“I’m just thinking lucky how I am about.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he says, sweeping his palms around to rest against my back and totally ignoring the fact that my words were just a nervous jumbled mess. “If all you want tonight is this, that’s okay. I’ll kiss those perfect lips any time you’ll let me,” says, his dark lustful gaze moving briefly to my mouth then back.
“I think I’m up for more than just a kiss,” I reply, thankful my words come out in order, and when our lips meet, in that moment, the nerves melt away completely and there’s just him and me.