BuckingHard (6 page)

A tingling warmth zinged from his fingers up his arms and
straight to his balls, the same as when his palm had met her sweet ass. Once
again his brain warned him there’d be consequences. Their friendship might not
survive the morning. “This isn’t a good idea.”

Despite his tight hold, she strained to press a kiss on his
cock. He relaxed his fingers to keep from hurting her. Not because he
desperately wanted her to convince him he was wrong. That they’d be all right.
At least that’s what he tried to tell himself.

“I know you don’t think of me as you do the other women you
fuck.” Her tongue once again began its winding bath around the crown of his
cock. “But, Mason, I just had the most amazing sex and I think you enjoyed it
too.”

That was an understatement. He’d enjoyed it way too much.

“I promise I’ll try to be as good as they are.” She kissed
him again, dipping her tongue into his slit. “To make you feel as good as they
do.”

God, if she only knew how much better she was than any of
the others. There was no one like her. Never would be. “You can’t compare
yourself to them.”

Her tongue stalled and she released him with a soft pop. Her
head remained bowed, her silky hair a veil around her face. “No, it’s silly,
but…I need this night. Something to remember when I’m gone.”

Gone?
“Where are you—ah, god.”

Plush wet lips surrounded his cock, robbing him of thought.
Her velvety tongue pillowed his engorged head for a moment then thrust him
against the roof of her mouth. She bobbed her head, rocking him from the back
of her teeth to just shy of her throat. A low hum vibrated down his shaft and
into his balls.

“Ah, fuck, yeah.” His hips bowed off the bed. He needed to
go… “Deeper.”

She angled her head and sucked him to the back of her
throat, her cheeks compressing to make the fit snug. Fiery tendrils snaked
along his spine. Fuck, what was he thinking? He’d never last if she kept this
up. And when he came, he wanted to be inside her.

“Stop.” Letting go of her hair, he framed her head and
pulled her from his dick as he sat up.

“No,” she cried and struggled to recapture him, but he drew
her face toward his lips.

“Shh, come here, baby.” He tilted her head and slanted his
mouth over hers. The talented tongue that had stroked his cock seconds ago now
stroked his tongue. Tasting her sweetness, he savored the unique flavor of
Bradi. The edge of her teeth, the softness of her gums, the hot hollow of her
cheeks, he traced them all. He couldn’t get enough.

The hand around his cock fell away only to return and cap
the blunt tip with a condom. She rolled it down his throbbing shaft then
crawled up his body until her knees settled on either side of his hips and her
pussy hovered above his cock.

Flesh to flesh, her soft skin invited his touch. He banded
his arms around her waist, pressing her closer. Her arms wound around his neck
as she lowered herself onto his broad crown. Simultaneous moans echoed around
the room and the kiss deepened, slowed, mimicking the leisurely glide of her
tight cunt over his dick.

When her ass finally rested against his balls, she broke the
kiss with not so gentle nips to his lips, along his jaw and at his earlobe. She
dragged the sensitive flesh through her teeth, giving it a sharp tug as it
slipped free. Her warm breath teased the shell. “Feels so good.”

Mason shuddered from both the slight pain of her bite and
the gentle suckling that followed. He leaned away to look at her. As much as he
loved the feel of her breasts mashed against his chest, he wanted to watch her
move. To see her body’s naturally fluid motion as she rode his cock.

Reaching for her hands, he extricated her fingers from his
hair. He kissed her palms, then lowered their linked hands to her hips and lay
back on the bed. “Ride me.”

Her eyes glazed over at his demand, and with a toss of her
blonde mane, she rose to her knees until only the head of his cock remained
inside her. Then she slowly sank, impaling herself, sheathing him like a
tight-fisted glove. His heart pounded and a rush of adrenaline coursed through
his body as he watched her glistening pussy lips swallow his shaft.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He slid his hands to her thighs and
relaxed into the mattress. “Just like that, baby.”

Muscle flexed beneath his fingers as once again she traveled
up, rocking forward and arching her back, then down, rolling her hips back. Her
pace increased a fraction, but the lazy, undulating rhythm of her pelvis
continued. She rode him as if he were a slow-bucking bronc.

Fingers spread, her slender hands slithered over her belly
and ribs, grazing the underside of her breasts. She cupped the generous mounds
in both hands, lifting, weighing them. Her thumbs circled the cherry nipples.
She pinched the beaded tips between her fingers and thumbs. The plump berries
reddened, making his mouth water for a taste.

A moan escaped her throat, drawing his gaze to her face.
Sultry green eyes stared into his, watching his reaction to her seductive
performance. The slide of her pink tongue over even pinker lips sent a jolt to
his groin. His hips bucked, ramming his cock deep on her downward glide. Air
hissed through her teeth and she bit her lower lip.

“You like that.”

“Mmm, I like it all.”

He bucked again.

A little cry rippled past her lips. “Harder.”

Mason dug his heels into the bed, his fingers into her
thighs, and drove his dick into her slick passage, harder. She laughed as she
nearly tumbled forward, then braced her hands on his chest and slammed
backward. “Aah, Mason.”

He tried not to listen to her voice or the tiny mewling
sounds she made. They wrecked his concentration, and it was all he could do to
focus on meeting her plunge with his thrust and hold off the fiery cum churning
in his balls at the same time. The ride was rough, but he loved it. Loved that
she loved it. Loved her.

Loved her?

God, is that what he’d been fighting these past few weeks?
Mason stilled as the answer ricocheted through his system. He
was
in
love with her. With Bradi. His best friend. Had been for a while, probably all
his life. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it. The attraction wasn’t just about
sex. It was about everything Bradi was, who she was. Sweet, stubborn, tough and
gentle.

A heady warmth spread throughout his chest as he looked up
at her. She’d slowed her rhythm and was studying him with cautious uncertainty.
He reached to push the hair from her eyes.

“What?” She slid to a stop. “Am—am I doing something wrong?”

“No.” He palmed her cheeks. “You’re perfect.”

“Then why’d you stop?”

“So I could do this.” He sat up halfway to capture her lips,
then the rest of the way when she melted into his kiss with a whimper. He
banded one arm around her waist to keep the connection deep and tight while he
molded the other hand to a breast. In a slow sensual dance of tongue, teeth and
lips, he made love to her mouth and coaxed those tiny guttural sounds from her
throat.

When he scraped the pad of his thumb over her distended
nipple, she tore her mouth from his. “Mason.”

His name on her lips, heavy with the pleasure he brought
her, was better than anything he’d ever accomplished. He could live on nothing
but the sound of it.

Trailing wet kisses down her neck to the dip in her
collarbone, he bent her backward over his arm, then swept his tongue over the
sweet berry. He nipped and licked, then drew the tasty treat into his mouth. As
he rolled the opposite nipple between his finger and thumb, he sucked.

Her hips jerked, grinding against his groin. His cock
twitched, making her tremble. She sighed, then drove her fingers into his hair
and anchored him to her. “More. Harder.”

With every intention of giving her what she needed, Mason sucked
her deeper, harder, his tongue massaging her nipple against the roof of his
mouth. Her lips parted and her head dropped back. The tips of her hair tickled
his fingers. He reached higher and wound a thick strand around his fisted hand.

“Mmm, yes.” Her hips began to rock. The muscles of her cunt
clamped around his shaft.

Mason grunted his approval and gyrated with her. Their pace
quickened. Her moans grew louder. With every rotation, the scent of her arousal
wafted between them, filling his nostrils. He couldn’t inhale enough.

A zing of energy jolted down his spine. He was close. Too
close. But she had to come first.

Sliding the hand on her breast down her belly to the
saturated curls, he slid a finger between swollen folds then watched her face
as he circled her clit.

“Oh.” She jerked and tried to lift her head, but his grip in
her hair locked her in place. He rubbed across the plump nub. Her pussy
clenched. “Oh god, Mason. I’m going to come.”

Fighting his need to beat her to that sweet ride, he
released her breast with a slow drag through his teeth and rasped, “Go on,
baby. Let loose.”

She tossed her head. “I can’t. I need to…”

“What do you need, Bradi. Tell me.”

“I need to…” She shook her head again and ground her teeth
so hard her jaw ticked.

Earlier, when he’d pounded into her from behind, he’d been
aware of her struggle to reach orgasm, heard her plea for some unnamed need.
Then she’d sunk her teeth into the bedding and her cunt had rippled around his
dick as she climaxed.

“Bite?” He turned loose of her hair. “You need to bite
something?”

“Yes,” she whimpered.

Mason pulled her upright and against him. “Then bite me.”

Without hesitation, she opened her mouth and clamped her
teeth onto his shoulder muscle. Pain lanced down his chest into his groin. Fire
blazed from his balls through his shaft and hot cum spewed into the condom. Her
tight cunt spasmed, milking another ribbon of pleasure from him. And then
another.

On and on, ecstasy pulsed within Mason. He clung to her
until the last wave subsided. Until her teeth relaxed and she turned her head
to lay her cheek on his shoulder. Until her fingers loosened and slipped from
his hair. Until her breath evened out and he knew she was asleep.

“I love you, Bradi Kincaid.”

Hearing the words out loud made them real. Saying them felt
right. Natural. It didn’t matter that she didn’t hear them. He’d tell her
tomorrow. He’d wake her up, make love to her until she shattered in his arms,
and then he’d tell her how he felt. He had no doubt she felt the same. He’d
seen it in her eyes. And not just tonight. He just hadn’t recognized it before.

Hell, he’d been so stupid. But he’d make up for it.

If it took the rest of their lives.

Chapter Four

The pink of dawn slipped beneath the shades, filling the
room with its rosy hue, warning Bradi she’d lingered too long. She had to get
up. Mason would wake soon.

The morning after was always awkward, but facing Mason after
what she’d done last night…well, she just couldn’t do it. God, she’d begged and
pleaded, then practically—no, she had literally jumped his bones.

Still, she lay in the warmth of his arms, her back flush
against his chest. The rise and fall of his deep, even breathing lulled her
into a false sense of belonging, as if she were meant to be exactly where she
was. Here, in his bed, with one muscled arm pillowing her head, the other
draped over her waist, his hand cupping her breast, his heavy thigh wedged
between hers.

Sex with Mason had been amazing. Her only regret was the
means by which she’d driven him to it. And that things would never again be the
same between them. She’d ruined their friendship and couldn’t bear to stick
around and watch him pretend she hadn’t.

The PRCA wanted her yesterday, and though she’d hoped to
spend more time with her family, last night made that impossible. The sooner
she left town the better. She’d book a flight for Denver today. Which meant
she’d have to break the news to Doc this morning.

With a heavy heart, Bradi eased her leg from beneath
Mason’s. A grunt vibrated from his chest and down her back. His arm tightened.
She held her breath and prayed he wouldn’t wake.

Gradually, his grip on her breast loosened and his hand
slipped to the mattress. Lifting his arm, she slithered from under him to kneel
on the cool wood planks, then lowered his hand to the bed. Her gaze swept the
room in search of her dress and heels. She located them on the chair across
from the bed and crept on tiptoe to gather them, then headed for the door.
She’d dress in the hall or downstairs.

As she passed the dresser, she spotted the keys to his truck
and grabbed them. The clink of metal reverberated through the silence. A swish
of movement on the sheets followed.

Bradi froze. Afraid to look, she waited on trembling legs. A
breathy sigh whispered over her, and she couldn’t resist one last look.

He’d shifted to his stomach, both arms above his head.
Chestnut hair curled at the base of his neck, the top of his ear and over his
brow. Long lashes fanned his chiseled cheekbone and full lips parted on another
exhale. Sinewy strength lay beneath the tanned flesh of his back and shoulders,
narrowing to his waist and the dimples at the base of his spine. The sheet
covered the rest, but Bradi knew well what it hid and would never forget.

Turning away, she stepped into the hall and slipped her
dress over her head, then quietly padded down the stairs to the kitchen. She
left a note to let him know she had taken his truck and where it would be, then
let herself out the back door. His truck started with a low purr as if it, too,
thought she was doing the right thing in going, and was aiding her in leaving
undetected.

But as she rolled down the drive, the lump in her throat
grew and tears welled in her eyes. She tried to swallow and blink the moisture
away. She sniffed. “This
is
the right thing.”