Chapter 33
ANNALISE
After a morning of driving and grabbing fries and a milkshake at by far the best drive-in I’ve ever been to, we’ve spent the past hour in the boot store. The best boot store in Alberta, according to him.
“What about these ones?” Brody asks, towering over me where I sit on a short, cushioned bench.
A giggle builds in my throat at the sight of him in front of a tall shelf of boots, a baseball cap tugged low over his brow and a pair of large-rimmed sunglasses hiding his pretty eyes.
Paired with his tight-fitting Levi’s, a dark brown set of boots, and a heavy Carhartt jacket, the glasses throw off the rough and tough look a bit.
It’s a testament to his good looks that he can still pull it off.
Though, I doubt he isn’t capable of pulling off just about anything.
“Anna? Do you like these ones?” he repeats, watching me with a casual smirk.
I clear my throat and ignore his cheekiness. “They’re cute.”
He’s dangling a pair of reddish-brown boots with a square toe and black swirls along the sides. They’re not completely my style, but we’ve gone through at least a dozen different boots already, and none have spoken to me.
“I don’t think I like the square toes. Or red,” I add, attempting to help narrow down the search before we wind up walking out of here with our hands empty.
Brody sets the boots back and then faces me again, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Gripping his hips in a wide, powerful stance, he dips his chin. “Be right back.”
I fold my hands in my lap and watch him leave, leaning forward to peek past one of the rows of shelving just to catch a glance at his ass.
The store is quiet today, but I have no clue if that’s out of the ordinary for a place like this.
I’d bet it’s not. I doubt cowboys are bothering much with gossip when they’re shopping for new boots.
Either way, I’m relieved that we haven’t had to avoid many shoppers. Brody’s disguise isn’t exactly state-of-the-art. It wouldn’t take much for someone to recognize him despite it, so it means a lot to me that he risked that for me today.
I wiggle my toes in the thick wool socks he brought in with us—another one of his considerate gestures that sent my belly flapping.
Road trips have never been my favourite, but with Brody, I think I could get used to them.
Driving the same roads I did the day before while coming home from the airport took on an entirely different look sitting beside him today.
The two and a half hours weren’t boring or exhausting.
They were the complete opposite. Lively and full of laughter and thoughtful conversation.
I think it’s safe to assume at this point that most things would be different with Brody by my side.
“Okay, give these ones a try.”
Twisting to find Brody headed toward me with a dark brown box in his hands, I untwist my fingers and splay them flat on my thighs.
“Where’d you find these ones?” I ask.
He winks, flipping open the lid for me to look inside. “That’s a secret. Grab one and take a look.”
As I trail my eyes over the boots, my breath catches in my throat.
Slowly, I reach toward them and pull the first from the box.
It’s soft in my hands, with a curved toe and a small heel.
The light brown grooves in the slightly darker leather are in the shape of sunflowers, and I look at Brody, catching his soft, relaxed features and wishing I could see his eyes.
“They’re beautiful,” I murmur.
“Try ’em on.”
I do instantly, sliding the first boot onto my foot before greedily reaching for the next and repeating the motions.
The fit is snug with the wool socks but not too tight.
Brody kneels down in front of me, running his hands up and down my calf and ankle as if to check the fit, but I think he’s just using it as an excuse to touch me.
The thought has me feeling incredibly giddy. Horny too. But that’s nothing new.
“Stand up and see how they feel,” he instructs.
I alternate between leaning on my feet and pushing forward on my toes before walking a small path back and forth on the carpet. “They feel good. I love them.”
“Love them enough to wear them often?”
“Enough to never go anywhere without wearing them.”
He stares at me for a moment, head lowering before rising again, and I can’t help but push on my toes to pull his glasses off.
A full-body shiver racks through me when I finally see what he’s been hiding behind them—a heat that licks the flames already building between my legs.
That taunts it, begging it to come out and play.
I’m too damn weak-willed for this because it takes all of five seconds staring at those sexy blue eyes before I’m poking the bear. “What do you think? Do you like them?”
“I’m thinkin’ that I want to toss you over my shoulder and haul you back out to my truck. I’m thinkin’—” His large steps eat the distance between us. “That for some fuckin’ reason, I got lucky enough to call you mine.”
I try and steady my breathing, but it’s a useless effort. “I’ve never been carried over someone’s shoulder before.”
A slow lift of his brow. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart.”
“Well, if we’re done here, then we can leave. Go back to town and have dinner.”
“Where would we have dinner? Out?” he asks, skirting around the question we both know he wants to ask.
I shake my head slowly.
“Are you invitin’ me over, Anna?” His voice is so low, a ghost of a sound.
“After today, it’s only right to thank you with dinner.”
Calloused hands cup my cheeks, hot breath fanning my lips as he leans in close and whispers, “I’ll come over. But not under the pretense of just dinner. I’ll take dessert too.”
I flush from head to toe. My panties grow soaked, a near automatic response when it comes to this man. I exhale a shaky breath and lean forward, kissing him softly. He presses back harder, his lips coaxing mine open just enough that he can taste me fully before he’s pulling back.
“This is going to be the longest drive home of my life,” he confesses.
My laugh is breathy, quiet. “You’re telling me.”
An hour later, I’m damn near choking on the sexual tension rippling in the dark cab of Brody’s truck. The inner thighs of my jeans have probably begun to pill from the consistent rubbing I’ve been doing.
After Brody paid for my incredibly expensive boots—his request—we left the shop and immediately set off for Cherry Peak. I slipped on my new boots as soon as we hit the highway and haven’t been able to stop looking at them since.
I’ve caught Brody’s heated stares as well. They’ve only made my arousal worse. It doesn’t matter how many times I change the radio station or check my phone, not a single thing has managed to distract me from how badly I want to shove the centre console up and climb into his lap.
Desire coils low in my belly, making my skin sensitive to every blow of the heater, and my lungs burn from the effort of controlling my rampant breathing.
Leather groans, and I look at the steering wheel to see Brody gripping it so tight his knuckles are white. He rubs the leather back and forth, and fuck me, the veins on the backs of his hands flex and bulge. I drop my head back to the headrest and close my eyes, tapping at the window.
The old Anna never would have considered taking charge here . . . Never would have done what I’m about to.
Brody flings his head to the side when I shove the console up and unbuckle my seat belt.
The sun has set, and I let that calm some of my nerves.
Nobody but him can see as I scoot into the small middle seat and lay a hand over his lap, right over the bulge beneath his zipper.
My eyes go wide at the thick ridge of him, so hot I can feel it through the thick jeans.
It’s my first time touching him this way. My blood boils beneath my skin, heady with my want for him. A peek up at him through my lashes, and I see him grinding his jaw, a harsh breath exploding through his parted lips. I pause, wanting to make sure it isn’t discomfort that has him so tense.
Dark blue eyes snare mine in a look so intense pleasure spikes between my legs, like an invisible slap to my clit. “Swear to fuck, Anna, you pull me out of my jeans right now and I’ll be takin’ that pretty mouth. I’m barely holdin’ on here.”
Relief plows through me before it’s replaced by determination. Fingers shaky with need, I unbutton his jeans and tug. He lifts his hips for me, and I curse as his cock comes free. Long and thick and wet, just for me.
“Kiss me,” he orders gruffly.
I twist, setting my knees on the seat and reaching to press my lips on his. He’s waiting for me. The moment our lips touch, he’s grabbing the back of my head and holding me in place, continuing to stare out the windshield as he devours my mouth.
It’s reckless. Even under the cover of night, the highway is busy. Headlights shine through the cab one after the other, but I don’t sit back down and hide. Not until he gives me permission. He tastes too good. Feels incredible.
I’m anxious to please him, and when I grip his cock in my fist, stroking once, his hiss fills my mouth before I swallow it. He tugs on my roots, separating us by a hairsbreadth.
“Try not to make me crash the truck. Got precious cargo,” he breathes. The order in the teasing words doesn’t go unnoticed.
I’ve found myself a dominant man, and the idea of that thrills me.
I slink down his body like water, pooling on the seat at his thighs. His muscles are tight, bulging as he shifts, legs spread as wide as possible in his jeans. My grip tightens around his shaft, and he throbs, his torso vibrating against the seat and fingers straining in my hair.
“I’ll try my best,” I promise, eyes trained on his groin.
My own arousal is a lingering song in my ears, but I ignore it in exchange for this moment. With slow strokes, I work his cock in my fist, bending at the waist almost subconsciously as I get so close my breath fans over the red, wet head of him.
My ass is in the air, and the button of my jeans digs into my stomach, but I stay in this position, unable to back away.
I’m drunk on lust, intoxicated by the feel and taste and smell of him.
My tongue slips from my mouth and traces the edges of his tip before dragging a hot line over the slit, collecting the bead of precum pooling there.
I moan, loud and wanton, and repeat the action twice.
“ Fuck . Just like that. Again,” he grits out.
I do as he says, but only for a moment. Then, I’m taking him into my mouth, working the rigid length of him as far as I can before pulling back and sucking in a breath.
His fingers are locked in my hair but frozen in a tight pull, keeping still.
I drop my head again and move it side to side, careful to keep my teeth to myself but hoping he’ll get the memo.
He does. I grin wickedly when he starts using his hold to guide me, setting a pace that he likes.
I’m a willing servant, my body strung so tight every one of his groans is a plunge of a finger inside of me.
I’ve never gotten this sort of pleasure from giving a blow job before.
I’m a live wire, his for the taking. I rub my thighs together, eyes drifting shut from the sparks I create between them.
Brody doesn’t miss my movements. He waits until I’ve taken him deep before shifting his hips, pushing deeper. “Touch yourself, Anna. Show me how wet you are.”
I gag, eyes beginning to water as I rip open my jeans and dive my hands into my panties. I’m drenched, the pretty lace soiled, but I already knew that. The first press of my fingertip to my clit has me bucking, Brody’s cock brushing the back of my throat before I pull back up.
“Show me,” he hisses.
“Okay,” I whimper.
I dip my finger inside myself just once before offering him my hand. With my lips spread around the tip of his cock, I watch as he releases my hair and takes hold of my wrist, bringing my finger to his mouth and sucking it clean. I clench around nothing, my mind splintering.
“Perfect,” he groans, returning his fingers to my hair. I shut my eyes, pushing back into his touch. “Get yourself off for me, sweetheart. Come with me.”
I’m already so close that I know it won’t take long. Sliding my hand back past the waistband of my jeans, I whimper at the pleasure my fingers bring. I work my clit with quick, hard circles, not needing much else.
Brody starts working himself into my mouth, helping speed up the pace as I stroke what I can’t fit and moan without a care.
My cheeks burn with the strain of sucking them in, and my back begins to ache from being bent over, but the pain only drives me.
Combined with the overload of pleasure, it’s not even a minute later that I’m coming, crying out around the cock in my mouth.
My limbs shake and eyes go dark with pleasure before I hear him curse and pull me off his shaft.
I force myself to keep my eyes open and my grip on him strong as I stroke him hard and fast. He spits a curse before thick ropes of cum fly, painting the suddenly bare, muscled expanse of his lower stomach.
My blinks are lazy when I tug my brows together and set my cheek against his thigh, catching my breath.
“Why did you pull me off?” I whisper.
The fingers curled in my hair relax and turn gentle as he strokes my head, his breath just as ragged. “I asked you what you wanted me to do, but you didn’t hear me. Didn’t want to risk it.”
I grin despite myself, pulling my hand from my jeans and wiping it on my thigh. “Yeah, I think my hearing blew for a bit there. For the record, you don’t have to pull me off next time.”
“Alright,” he says softly.
Still wearing my silly grin, I help get his jeans back up and buttoned before sitting on my ass and grabbing a napkin from the glovebox to wipe his stomach.
He takes the dirty napkin and shoves it into a plastic bag before reaching into the back seat to dispose of it for now.
Reluctantly, I start to shift back to my seat before he stops me with a heavy palm on my knee.
“Stay here. There’s a buckle hidden between the seats somewhere. Don’t want you all the way across the truck.”
My heart thumps. “Okay, but I can’t promise that I won’t fall asleep on your shoulder.”
He shakes his shoulder and gives me a crooked smile. “It’s all yours, Buttercup.”
The words strike harder than intended. I’m more positive now than ever that I’m all his too.