Chapter Five
Blake
I am still shaking when I make it to my bunkhouse.
With the sun setting behind me, my body aching from a long day, and my focus shattered, I ought to be exhausted. Instead, I am wired. My boots thud across the wood plank floor as I pace. I shake out my limbs, but it does no good. There is no shaking off what Brooks makes me feel.
Why did he have to be here, where I came to start over?
He made a joke earlier about all the ranches in Starlight Summit.
What does it mean that I wound up on his ranch?
It does not mean anything. It can’t mean anything.
I am a mistake away from blowing up my life all over again.
I cannot let that happen. I just started pieces it all back together again.
Five years ago, the loss of my uncle was the darkest time of my life.
My parents were what I would call unprepared to be parents.
They were not cruel or uncaring. They just never should have had a child.
My uncle took me in one summer when they wanted to tour the country in a battered old van and. .. I just never left his ranch.
“You can wander like your mother without being lost,” he said in his final days as I stayed at his side, now the one unprepared. “Or you can settle somewhere that suits you. Do not clip your wings just yet, Blake.”
Staying there, at the ranch that had been my home, my anchor, my north star, seemed impossible without him.
I followed the same path, took the same roads, and made the same risks my mother and father had in my grief.
I had no ties to anyone or anywhere. Which meant I had nothing to go home to once my wandering was over.
My cousin Tye is all I had left, but he spent most of his life out on the road, riding the rodeo circuit.
On an overdue call a few months back, he regaled me with stories of Fellow Falls and its sister to the south, Starlight Summit.
He said how much it reminded him of home, of his dad, and the place we had grown up.
Now that I am here, I can see how right he was.
Walking onto this ranch when I came to meet Sterling was the first time I had been able to breathe right in a long time.
I could not know that hiding in the shadows, or out on the paddock working his magic, was the formidable force that is Brooks Carter.
“Stop thinking so much, darlin’,” his voice rumbles behind me, making me jump with a clatter of boots on hardwood.
Whirling, I see him sneaking in my door, letting it close behind him with a soft thud. I am furious that he followed me. Livid that he was out there, watching me work all day. I am irate at myself for working harder under the weight of his stare, as if I had something to prove to him.
“I am not here for you,” I remind him what I said earlier. “I am here for me. I... I need this, Brooks,” I admit, voice breaking as I sink to the little cot in the corner as my knees give out.
Brooks is there before I can fathom that he has even moved.
Dropping to his knees with a thud, his huge hands circle my waist. I am no damsel in distress but him playing a huge, hot white night is kind of working for him.
I fall against his chest as I still shake.
I am that affected by his presence, by the kisses he laid on me in the barn earlier.
“We spent just one night together, but did I not make sure you got what you needed, Blake? Do you think that changes for me? I might not know just what you need, but I will be damn sure to see to it you get whatever it is.”
Pulling back, I search his cobalt eyes. I am not good at letting people in.
Not good at trusting or letting myself be soft or exposed with anyone.
I have trusted just a handful of men in my life.
I can’t be sure Brooks can be one of them.
Sitting there with him cradling me so gently, my body aching, my heart twisted up in my chest, I want to so badly.
Sitting back, I take a trembling breath. One hand cradles his face as the other trails down his chest. Flashes of our night together, of the way he held me, the pleasure he brought me, how safe and cherished I felt in his arms hit me like blows. I am trembling still, but he notes the difference.
Aiming a devastating smirk at me, he pulls back more.
I almost cry out because his closeness is the first moment of peace I’ve known since the barn.
Before I can protest, he tears down the zipper of my jeans and rips them down in one fluid move.
His rough palms slide up my thighs and the heat from his sure touch makes me shake.
“I promise to just take up just a little space. Spread your thighs for me, little Dove, let me see you,” he hums, his breath warm on my skin, his fingers bruising my thighs with their grip.
Falling back on the cot, I do as I am told.
It seems to go that way with us. His eyes darken when I hesitate to spread my thighs as much as he wants.
I am dirty, sweaty, but his little growl and a light slap at my thigh makes me laugh.
I laugh harder when he gently bites my thigh until I let them fall before he drags them up over his broad shoulders.
“Awful demanding...oh!” I cry out when his hot, wet tongue slides between my folds, his rough hands pushing my panties out of his way.
“Mmm, when it comes to tasting you, yeah, darlin’, might want to get used demands. Been wanting a taste of you all fucking day,” he growls, biting my thigh before his teeth pull at my clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.
“Brooks,” I whimper as my hands come to tangle in his hair as he sucks gently, sending a delicious hum through me.
His name echoes in the small bunkhouse as he sucks noisily at the wetness soaking my thighs.
His rough hands grip my backside, lifting me to his greedy mouth.
I rock against his lips, twisting my hips as his fingers dig into my skin so roughly, I know there will be bruises later.
Just thinking about that, about seeing the mark of his hunger for me on my skin later, makes something needy build in my belly.
“Yes, yes,” I chant, rocking shamelessly against his tongue as it licks me clit to ass and back again.
Suddenly, two fingers push inside me, and I almost scream because the pleasure is blinding.
“Oh god, don’t stop. I'm so close! Brooks...please...no, no,” I whimper when all at once, everything stops.
Blinking as I try to comprehend what the hell he is doing, I laugh.
Why is this so damn fun with him? There is no weirdness, no awkward moments.
We laughed a lot the night we met too. It was fun, playful, but it was the most intense pleasure I had ever known.
Being with him is better than being drunk, better than smoking some weed—it's the best high I’ve ever known.
“Take that off,” he growls, still knelt between my thighs, his beard rough against my skin. “I want to see all of you,” he hums, kissing each mark his teeth leave at my skin as he bites and nips.
Sitting up, I sober for a moment. Being sober at all is a new thing for me.
But being with him makes me feel intoxicated.
I am bleary eyed as I lean down, dragging my mouth over his.
I taste myself and smoke, and he sighs, licking his tongue into my mouth.
It’s a strange position, bent up the way I am, but we make it work.
Still kissing me, he fists the front of my shirt and pulls, busting the buttons and sending them flying.
I don’t care. I want him to have whatever he wants.
Still moving, he bends me back on the narrow cot, his head dipping.
My fingers tunnel in his dark hair, a gasp shooting out of me when his tongue slides between my breasts in a long, languid stroke.
I can feel his mouth smiling against my skin.
He laughs and I do too, and god, this man has me addicted in a way might be very, very bad for me.
“I love how you taste,” he declares before drawing a long moan from me as his greedy mouth closes around a lace covered nipple.
Sucking hard, he reaches up to tear the lace from the other breast, his mouth moving to that side next.
“I am addicted to it. Not to just your sugar sweet pussy or that wicked mouth, darlin’.
To your creamy skin, the sweat soaking your tits, the cream you soak your thighs with.
I want to drink every drop of you down like the best sip of sin I’ve ever had,” he hums before his teeth tug at my nipple, sending shockwaves of bliss to every pleasure sensor in my body.
“Brooks, please...I need...” I trail off as I reach between us, going for his jeans. I need him. I need to be full of him, to have the connection I tried to run from. I don’t think I can outrun it—I cannot outrun him.
“Tell me what you need,” he rasps against my throat. “Not this moment. Not tonight. Not even tomorrow. I want to know what you need, Dove. I want to know how to give it to you.”
We pull back, breathless, and the air between us suddenly feels heavy.
We’re a tangle of awkward limbs—me naked, his buckle still in my hand, his weight straining against his zipper.
I hear his words, and I know he means them.
I just don’t know if I can answer. I’m not sure I’m ready to be that vulnerable yet.
“I--I need to be safe. Solid. I was...wild and free. Reckless, stupid, I did a lot of damage to myself. To everyone around me. They said I could wander without being lost but...I was so lost,” a sob breaks free from my chest and his arm bands across my back, drawing me against his chest.
“Now I know what you were looking for when I found you at The Barn. You were looking to be found. And I found you, Blake. I intend to keep you, whether I take up too much space doing it or not. All you need to do is tell me what you need, darlin’,” he husks against my throat before he pulls back, fist tangled in my hair, his eyes intense as they lock on mine.
Nodding, I let out a trembling breath. I might not be able to tell him all I need, but here, tonight, I can tell him one thing I need. “I need your mouth. I need to come with your mouth on me, honey,” I whimper, falling back against the bed with a soft thud.
“I can give you that. Lie back, let me take care of you tonight,” he hums, kissing a path down each thigh.
Sighing as I close my eyes, I bite back a smile when his hand pushes mine from his buckle. He is so hard, I know he must need to come too, but I know he won’t let me touch him. Not when it is so clear I am in need. I have a lot of needs but tonight, I need just what I said moments ago.
I need to be safe. Solid.
Brooks can give that to me tonight. He can make that happen for me, right here in this little bunkhouse on this dusty ranch.
I can lie in this bed with his big, hard body holding my aching, sore one down.
Tethering me to the earth, to him, with pleasure, with promises of something more.
Even if I am not ready for those promises to be said.
I don’t need pretty words tonight or a single promise from his lips.
I just need one night to feel what only he has made me feel in so long.
“So pretty,” he rasps against my hip as his lead rests on my thigh, his gaze fixed on my sex. “It might be the prettiest thing I have ever seen.”
“Show her how pretty you think she is,” I hum with a laugh that becomes a gasp when his tongue does just that.
I buck beneath the magic of his mouth as it kisses my pussy deep and slow, his tongue spearing the folds open.
His fingers join the delicious assault, the rough tips finding a spot inside of me that makes stars dance behind my lids.
I gasp as he sucks and pulls at my clit with his tongue, his teeth, his lips rubbing and teasing.
“I...I’m...oh, yes, like that, there, it’s...Brooks...oh, yes!”
My shout as I come must echo across the entire ranch.
I don’t care who might hear how good he makes me feel.
I don’t care what they think about me as I call his name in a chant as he continues to eat me, savoring the stickiness that floods my thighs as I come so good I think I must be floating in the night skies, the stars bright all around me, his hands holding me down as I come apart in a million pieces of stardust.
“Brooks...oh, oh...baby,” I cry, actual tears slipping down my temples as I shudder from the pleasure rippling through me, tearing me into something, someone entirely knew.
Brooks is there to hold me together, his huge body gathering mine up as I shake.
We wind up tangled up on the tiny cot, most of his huge frame hanging off.
I cuddle against his chest, sobbing as a bliss I had no idea could be real, could find me, overwhelms me.
I am safe and I am solid, and I am sober.
Nothing else matters. Not the morning skies that will come too soon or the work waiting for us tomorrow, or the truth of everything I am hiding.
“I got you, darlin’. I ain’t letting go. I promise you.”
“No, please,” I claw at his chest, panic swelling inside me. “Don’t leave me. I won’t leave again, I promise. Don’t leave me Brooks.”
“Oh, you can try to sneak off on me again, if you need. Doesn’t mean I will let you go. I am going to take up a little space at a time, Dove. Until I fill up whatever emptiness you have inside you.” Those words, those sweet, perfect, beautiful words should not scare me.
Oh, they do. Because if I believe anything, I believe Brooks is a man of his word—which means he will not be satisfied with just one night.