Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
"We haven't had a chance to meet."
I whipped around with half a hot dog hanging outta my mouth and my eyes bulged outta their sockets. I'd seen her arrive earlier—and several shots ago—from across the way. There was no mistaking Mrs. Lancaster, and not only because she'd arrived with the taller, more imposing of her two sons behind.
It was the eyes.
She had Brody's eyes.
Or, er, he had hers.
Whatever.
I waved at Luke as he split off from his mom with a tip of his hat. Finishing my bite, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as she approached.
"Oh, sorry, hon. Didn't mean to catch you with a wiener in your mouth."
Oh, fuck.
I was gonna die 'cause said wiener was caught somewhere in my throat.
Oh, God.
That made me want to laugh harder which just meant more choking.
Brody appeared outta nowhere and gave me a couple firm pats on the back. "Jesus, mother. Try not to kill my girl, would ya?" By the time the offending bite worked its way down my esophagus, there were tears pooling in my eyes.
"What'd she do, huh?" Brody asked as he rubbed slow circles on my back.
That feels nice.
"Like that, do ya?"
Oh, fuck. Did I say that out loud?
"You did. That too."
I groaned. "No more shots."
Mrs. Lancaster laughed, and when I looked from Brody to her, she had mischief written all over her.
"Oh, you knew exactly what you were doin'." I pointed the finger of my non-hot-dog-holding hand at her.
"Bein' a shit stirrer?" Brody asked. "You two have that in common."
My drunk ass was saved from any further embarrassing exchange with my boyfriend's mother—
I gasped, turning to grip Brody by the plaid button-up shirt. The ketchup from my fingers would leave a stain.
"Are you my"—I whispered the next part—"boyfriend?"
We were far enough into the night that the sun had disappeared behind the Bitterroots.
The only light was what was spillin' out from the barn and the little Edison bulbs I'd helped Sassy string between some trees.
Brody's normally bright green eyes were darker without the presence of the sun that seemed to shine out his ass, but I could still see them dance before he spoke.
Instead of lettin' him say whatever asshat remark was 'bout to come out of his mouth, I shoved the rest of my hot dog in his pie hole the moment he opened it.
Then I turned and ran, cackling the whole way.
Next I knew, something soft was hitting me in the back of the head. I reached up to touch my hair and came away with—
"Oh my God! There's blood everywhere!"
Multiple heads whipped in my direction as I just stood there, staring at my hand. Brody came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.
Then he licked my hand.
"It's ketchup, drama queen."
Then we both dissolved into a fit of giggles, which had us trippin' over each other and ending up in a heap on the dirt dance floor.
"Alright, you two are cut off," Rhett said, towering above us.
"Party pooper." I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Git." Rhett tipped his chin behind us, and Brody and I both fell over ourselves trying to look that way.
Luke leaned up against his truck, Mrs. Lancaster already safely tucked inside the passenger seat.
We leaned on each other to get up, probably looking like two newborn foals trying to get their legs.
Brody hooted and hollered his farewells with his arm wrapped around me while we stumbled a zig-zag to the truck. After Luke shut the door to the rear seat, I leaned my head against Brody's shoulder, and passed the fuck out.
"Oh, God," I groaned. "Tastes like Cat shit in my mouth."
I attempted to unglue my eyelids, but it was a struggle. When I managed one, I was met with Brody Lancaster, propped up on one elbow, staring at me with a big-ass grin on his stupid sexy face.
I winced.
"Mmm," Brody hummed, leaning in closer. "How 'bout a kiss?"
"Ew," I said, palming his face. "Why are you?"
He laughed and flopped back onto the bed. "Why am I what?"
"Just…" I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and ground them into the sockets. "Why are you?"
"Not feelin' so hot this morning, viper?"
"No," I grumped. "But… why are you?"
Brody laughed again and the sound hurt my head.
"Can you not? Your laughin' hurts me."
He reached over and manhandled me into bein' his little spoon.
It felt nice.
That feels nice.
I groaned again, recalling the inside thoughts that slipped out last night.
"No more shots. Ever. I'm too fucking old for this shit."
"I'll take care'a you, baby."
He slid his hand down my stomach, intentions loud and clear.
"Boy scout, it's bound to be dryer than the Sahara down there."
He circled my clit with two fingers as tiny—almost subconscious—thrusts of his hips had his hardening cock pressing against my ass.
The fact that I was thirsty, had a raging headache, and needed to pee seemed to mean next to nothing as the remaining liquid in my body pooled between my legs. Traitorous fuckin' pussy had no sense of self-preservation, offering up the last of our reserves to get a little dick.
Brody dipped his fingers lower, gathering the wetness there and bringing it up to continue stroking my clit.
He pressed his lips to my shoulder, and I turned my head to meet his gaze.
We stayed like that as my breathing picked up and I was grinding against both his hand and his dick.
I was looking straight into his eyes when I came on a long, low moan that had my entire body shaking.
It was somehow more intimate than half the sex we'd had.
"Better?" he asked as he peppered kisses up and down my arm.
"Mhm," I said, closing my eyes and rolling to my back underneath him. "More, please."
"Look at you," he crooned, "all orgasm drunk and polite. Who knew?"
He kissed his way across my chest.
"Fuck off," I said, arching into him. "Hey, boy scout?"
"Hmm?" He swirled his tongue around my nipple while his fingers teased the other.
"Where'd my clothes go? And how'd I get upstairs?"
He paused his feast on my breasts for a clipped, one-word response. "Luke."
"You let your brother take my clothes off?"
Brody let out the most dramatic fucking sigh, propping himself up on an elbow. The cool air in the wake of his lips and tongue had me shivering.
I wanted him to warm me back up.
"Nah, I did that part. He just carried your drunk ass up so we didn't both fall and break our necks." He shot me a pointed look. "Now, may I continue? Was doin' some of my best work there and you just keep interruptin'."
I waved a hand. "Proceed."
He flashed me a wicked grin before his mouth was on me again.
He squeezed and licked and sucked at me until I was squirming again. My hands were in his hair, and he showed no signs of going south anytime soon.
"Brody," I said and it was all breathy and… embarrassing.
But never in all my life had a man so thoroughly worshipped me. Never had I let one.
Yet here I was, no place to be on Saturday morning, in a bed that wasn't mine in a house that wasn't mine, with a man that… maybe was mine.
"Brody," I said again, tugging on his hair this time.
He popped up. "Huh? What? Sorry," he chuckled. "Got a little distracted. I love these tits." He took one in each hand and squeezed, moaning right along with me. "Thought about fuckin' 'em all night last night. 'Cause don't think for one damn second I didn't notice you walkin' 'round without a bra."
I smiled up at him and licked my lips—or, tried to, anyway. Was still thirsty.
Before I could tell him to get to work, he hopped off of me—and the bed—walking bare-ass naked through the bedroom door.
"Hey! Where you goin'?"
But he was gone, feet pounding down the stairs.
Cat sat just outside the bedroom door, judging me. "Yes, ma'am? Can I help you?"
"She don't like to be called 'ma'am!'"
"How the fuck did he hear that?" I muttered.
Not twenty seconds later, Brody came strolling back through the door, cock jutting out—thick, and long, and so fucking hard. I wanted him in my hand, my mouth, my pussy… my ass. Anywhere, really. I'd take him anywhere.
When I finally forced my eyes away from his cock, I found him standing above me, holding one hand out to me, palm up. Inside were two Tylenol. In his other hand was a lemon-lime Gatorade.
My fucking sinuses started to sting as he stood there, waiting for me to take what he was offering. And I just stared up at him, because what had I truly done to deserve this man?