Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
12
Something’s happening tonight. I’m up to my elbows in dishwater as I watch Cary, Colt, Sawyer, and Scott get into their good truck and disappear out of sight. Since I’ve been here, they’ve never been out in the evening, but tonight they’re heading to a bar in town.
A bar.
But Cash is staying home.
He’s outside with Big Boy, taking him for a little walk around the house to give him a chance to do his business.
I scrub the pan that’s gripped in my hand with more vigor than it really requires, panicking. Have the boys left so that Cash can have a talk with me? Or maybe he’s hoping for some privacy so we can get to do more than just high school–level kissing. Or maybe they’re all sick of everything taking so long, and they’re hitting the bar to seek out female company.
Maybe Amber will be there with all her womanly charms. Maybe they’ll come back to Cash later with the name of a more deserving candidate for the Bradford harem queen.
All of those options make me feel sick with a mixture of nerves and jealousy and the kind of anxiety I haven’t felt since I moved into this house.
On top of all of it, so far, it seems that buying me the horse has been the end of my greater involvement outside of household chores. I get to ride Lady every day, but it’s all just for my leisure rather than work. And yes, I love getting out into the fresh air, and I’ve gotten so familiar with the sprawling land of the ranch that I could probably find my way around in the dark, but it’s not enough.
Cash still hasn’t returned by the time I’ve finished the dishes, so I head upstairs to freshen myself up. The old-fashioned bath is one of my favorite places to relax in the house, and I slide into the warm water, drifting in my mind through waking dreams that feel too real.
I picture myself lying on a bed while Cash sits on a chair in the corner. He’s watching me, a smile playing at his lips that I don’t get to see enough of in real life. His brothers are standing at the foot of the bed, plaid shirts discarded, jeans unbuttoned, arms folded. They look at me in the same way they’d observe an animal they were considering purchasing. All those eyes on my body…it sends a shiver through me.
I rub my face with wet hands, trying to clear my thoughts. These erotic imaginings aren’t like me. I blame the novel for filling my head with yearning. Or maybe it’s my hormones. I’m pretty sure I’m mid-cycle and probably subconsciously looking for a big strong man to fill me with his seed. As humans, we might be able to use tools and write poetry, but underneath it all, we’re still built like animals with animal urges. Squeezing my legs together, I try to squash the heat there, then I rise out of the water, not wanting to allow myself to think any further down that path.
When I’m dressed in my loungewear, I pad slowly and quietly down the hall, listening out for Cash’s movements. It’s quiet, and then the door next to me opens, and he’s standing there, framed by the entrance to his room.
Oh Lord, he’s not wearing a shirt, and just the sight of his bare skin makes me flush. He’s smooth across the undulating muscles that make up the sexiest chest I’ve ever seen. He’s tan there too, so he must work shirtless sometimes, something I haven’t had the pleasure of witnessing. He braces one arm at the top of the door, looming large. “There you are,” he says, his free hand reaching out to take mine. Cash tugs me close, and I immediately catch the scent of his freshly washed skin. His hair has a gentle curl to it, and it flops over his forehead. He kisses my hand as he did on the first night, but I know it’s not just a prelude to a kiss this time.
I’m in his room.
His bed is right there.
We’re alone.
And I’m totally out of my depth.
“Cash,” I say in a warning tone.
“It’s okay.” He dips lower to kiss my cheek. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”
He doesn’t realize that that is exactly what I’m afraid of. If I let him put his hands on me, I’m going to want everything.
My momma told me that sex could be a power exchange. Men like most what they can’t have. They’ll chase and chase, and while you don’t give them what they want, they stay interested. But if a man doesn’t love you before you give him what’s between your thighs, you hand him power during sex that he’ll eventually use against you.
I guess she was trying to get me to be cautious, which I appreciate, but her words hang heavy.
I bet Amber doesn’t worry about handing over her power. I bet her power is between her thighs, and she sucks the life out of the poor men she entraps like a black widow spider.
But I want to kiss Cash. I want to let him hold me. I want to know what it feels like for his weight to be on me. Maybe I can be strong enough to keep my clothes on.
Drawing closer, I wrap my arms around his warm chest and melt into his perfect kisses. His arms envelop me too, and for a little while, we stand at the entrance to his room, kissing as we have before, but then something in him seems to break. His hands grip under my ass, and he picks me up, depositing me onto his soft comforter, leaning low over me.
“You drive me crazy, Melanie,” he says.
“Crazy good or crazy bad?”
“Crazy amazing.” He smiles against my lips, but by the time he pulls back to look down at me, that smile has gone. My heart skips at his handsomeness. I reach up to touch his hair and caress his stubbled cheek, and I feel like I’m slipping into a world I’ve never known. “I want to make you feel good,” he says. “Can I do that?”
“You do make me feel good,” I say, using a smile to conceal my obvious diversion.
“I can do so much better than that,” he says.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if his brothers can too. This charade between us feels strange in these moments at the beginning of intimacy. The thing that holds me back is how much I feel for this man. Despite what he wants, I know he’s not fantasizing about passing me around his family like a whore. He wants me to be a partner for him and his brothers. It’s kind of flattering in a way.
“What do you want to do?” I ask softly.
“Look at you,” he says, nuzzling my nose. “Touch you here.” He runs his finger over my breast, “and here.” He cups my pussy, and a moan leaves my lips. “You don’t have to be shy with me, and you can tell me to stop…anytime, okay?”
I’m still against his hand, knowing that if I move, even just a little, I’ll moan again. I want to tell him I’m scared that if he does what he says, I won’t ever tell him to stop. We’ll end up a tangled mess in these sheets, and what then? I’ll be all in with Cash, and there will be one less barrier to the rest of the Bradfords. My willpower is waning.
He’s waiting for an answer, and I stare at him, wide eyed, wondering if this will be the man who takes my virginity.
His words fill my mind. Melanie is everything we ever talked about wanting. She’s perfect.
Dipping lower, he kisses me again, and I slip into the warm place that exists between us, of comfort and trust and affection. It might not be hearts and flowers, but it’s what I need.
Cash is what I need.
He moves his hand to stroke my cheek, and his touch is reverent. He’s slow to caress me, his fingers finding their way beneath the hem of my shirt, hot and rough against my stomach. “Is it okay?” he asks, and instead of answering, I raise my head to kiss him, gripping onto his shoulder.
That first slide of his hand up my shirt is like the best kind of anticipation. As Cash cups my breast, a groan rumbles in his throat. My nipple is definitely hardened into a point, and his thumb seeks it out, circling just the tip. I can hardly breathe as he squeezes gently. I arch my back, wanting more, needing him to grip harder, pinch my nipple, anything to show that he’s feeling as frenzied as me.
It’s as though he’s worried about going too hard too fast, and I get that. He’s used to dealing with skittish animals. He knows you need to handle uncertainty differently than confidence.
But I’m not uncertain about this now. I’m all in, headfirst, drowning in this big strong man. I’m relishing everything that he is and everything that he stands for.
“Can I look at you?” he asks, already beginning to kiss down my throat.
“Yes.” He pushes up, resting on one arm so he can use the other to shove up my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra, so there’s no barrier between my skin and his hungry eyes and no barrier when he dips and runs his tongue around my nipple before latching on and sucking.
Why does nobody ever talk about the connection between breasts and pussy? No one warned me that one suck would send heat between my legs and wetness.
“You’re so pretty,” Cash says. “So soft and sweet and…” He’s too hungry to finish his sentence. Instead, he ruffles at my shirt again, baring my other breast and giving it the same hot, wet treatment until I’m groaning and grabbing at his back. I don’t know what comes over me, but my hands give his shoulders a shove as though I want him to go lower.
I do want that, but demanding it as I do isn’t like me at all. Or maybe it is. I’ve never done this before, so I have no idea how I’m going to be.
The waistband of my yoga pants is stretchy, and Cash tugs them over my hips with expert technique. Somehow, my panties are removed at the same time, and Cash has his face between my legs before I can register what’s happening.
His lips touch the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh first, and I almost jump out of my skin. “Easy,” Cash says, resting his huge hand on my belly, holding me steady. His nose nuzzles into the soft patch of hair I have between my legs, and I think he inhales my scent. There’s a definite rumble in his throat that I’m not sure comes from arousal or possessiveness. The way he’s holding me feels as though he’s claiming me for himself. I widen my legs, giving him more space, spreading myself open, so he has better access. My cheeks flush scarlet, knowing he’s so close to my most private place, knowing he can smell my arousal. Am I wet there? Can he see how much he’s making me feel?
His tongue finds the swollen bud of my clit and licks slowly, and I flinch with the intensity of the pleasure. “Easy,” he murmurs again. “It’ll feel good. I’ll go slow.”
And he does. So slow that I’m holding my breath, waiting for each maddeningly tentative lick, my knees quivering and hands gripping the sheets.
I didn’t know a man’s mouth could make me feel this good. I didn’t know the point of his tongue would be so skilled in building pleasure. I didn’t know that my pussy would squeeze with anticipation, wanting something to fill it. I didn’t know I’d see stars just from the warm slide of his tongue. “Oh God,” I moan, my legs snapping closed so hard that I almost take off Cash’s head in the process. The spasms between my thighs beat like a drum, everything inside me drawing up with tight pulses of deep, hot pleasure.
“That’s it,” he says. “That’s it.”
Cash’s hand never leaves my stomach, and his lips press against my thigh again, wet with my arousal. Surely, he’ll want to wash his mouth out now. I expect him to get up and disappear to the bathroom, but he doesn’t. Instead, he shifts until he’s lying next to me on the comforter, bracing on his elbow, gazing down at me with a satisfied smile.
So, now I know what I need to do to bring light to Cash’s face.
His thumb brushes my bottom lip, and instinctively my tongue darts out to taste him. The flare of fire in his dark gray eyes tells me how much he likes that. “Was that as good as it looked?” he asks.
Of course, I have to nod. There are no words to describe the pleasure he gave me. No words to articulate how glad I am that I waited for a man who knows exactly how to make me feel good.
He rests his hand over my still pounding heart. “We’ll take it slow,” he says. “I know how big this must be for you. I want you to know that this is a big thing for me too. I couldn’t be your first without knowing that you’re truly ready.” Circling my nipple, he leans in to kiss me, and already, things are stirring inside me again. I feel like the heroine in my cowboy romance novel, always wanting to rut like a bitch in heat.
Shouldn’t I have better restraint? Shouldn’t I play it cool so that Cash isn’t certain of how much he’s made me feel?
But I can’t. His fingers set me on fire. His mouth sends me into a world of anticipation. My whole body is magnetized to his.
“What about you?” I say, looking down at the impressive bulge at the front of his jeans.
Cash shakes his head. “Tonight is all about you.”
His fingers trail over my stomach, sliding between my legs. Just the very top of his middle finger touches my entrance, circling there. “You’re still intact,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe. “How, when you ride horses as you do?”
I shrug because I have less idea about my body than he seems to. Does he mean I still have a hymen?
“I would never want to hurt you.” Instead of pushing inside me, he strokes upward, parting me, grazing my clit, using his fingers to explore my folds. His eyes never leave mine, and something passes between us that brings a lump to my throat. I wasn’t expecting any of this to be so tender and sweet. I wasn’t expecting him to treasure exploring me in this way, wanting nothing in return.
First times are meant to be special, and this is, despite the circumstances that brought us together.
“Will you sleep with me tonight?” he asks. “Just sleep?”
Agreeing is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. “Sure.”
Cash gives me the brightest grin I’ve ever seen. “I’ll get you a shirt.”
As he searches for a clean shirt in his dresser, I watch the play of his muscles in his broad back and shoulders. I don’t cover myself, even though I feel shy. When he returns, I sit up, and he slips the shirt over my head. “Do you want your panties?” he asks me.
Maybe I should say yes to having a thin cotton barrier between my pussy and Cash’s talented fingers and tongue, but I don’t. Shaking my head, I grin at him, and he grins back.
Tugging the comforter, I slide between the sheets, and so does Cash. The pillow smells of him, and when he wraps his arms around me, I feel like I’m in heaven.
“Sleep now,” he says, kissing the top of my messy head.
And despite all the excited butterflies in my stomach, I do.