Hard 5 by Stephanie Brother
21
That night, everything feels different. The Bradfords have confidence in me, way beyond anything I expected. More confidence than I ever have in myself, in a way. I mean, I know I’m capable. I’m a quick learner, and I always try my hardest but learning a new farming method is a challenge, one that even they haven’t had the time to master. They’re trusting me to do something new and challenging, and I’m beaming with a tremendous sense of pride.
Pride in me, and pride in them because they’re nothing like the men the gossipmongers would have me believe. They’re not ruthless ranchers out for their own ends. They’re caring and kind. They’ve noticed my capabilities and recognized my needs, and found a way to deliver exactly what I need to thrive.
They see me, and it feels great to be seen.
When I’m showered and dressed in my nightwear, I hunker down with them in the den, watching sport on the TV. I like football because it reminds me of time that I spent with my pa. Snuggled down with Colt on one side of me and Cary on the other, I feel squirmy and hot between my legs. It’s a new feeling; one born from knowing what it’s like to experience intimacy and pleasure and craving it with an overwhelming hunger.
Resting my hand on Cary’s leg, I play with the seam of his jeans, and after a few seconds, he reaches out to take my hand and bring it to his lips. Turning, I twist until I’m facing him, running my hands through his soft brown hair, stroking my fingers over his smooth forehead and eyebrows, watching as his gray eyes roll with pleasure. I pet him with affection and care in my fingertips and something melting and warm in my chest. When his eyes drift closed, I lean in to kiss each of his eyelids, needing to show him how I feel. This kind man who’s done everything to make me feel at home in this new and strange place and to give me hope for a future that seemed dark and lost.
“You know what you’re starting,” he murmurs, pulling me onto his lap. “It’s not just me. There’s five of us.”
We both look around the room at his brothers, who are watching our display of affection.
“You don’t scare me,” I say, running my hand over the fabric of his blue t-shirt, trailing down and down until I reach the hem, then slipping my fingers over the warm skin of his tight stomach.
“Not even a little?” he says, gripping my ass and pulling me tighter against him.
“Not even a little,” I echo.
It’s his turn to slip his hand under my shirt, searching for the fastening of my bra but finding no bra there. A groan leaves his lips.
“I’m not wearing any underwear,” I whisper in his ear.
“Very dangerous,” he whispers back. “I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”
“I think I have an idea.” I move to straddle his lap, pressing myself against his already rigid cock, looking into his kind, pretty eyes while I roll my hips. He blinks slowly, his lids heavy with arousal and maybe a little tiredness. It’s been a long day for us all.
“What do you want?” I ask, conscious that Sawyer is next to us. Conscious that all of his brothers want to know what’s happening next.
“Honestly, I want to take you to my room and play with your body. I want some time alone with you before we’re all together.”
Nodding, I kiss his lips, feeling relieved that he’s being honest. The sexual politics involved in a relationship with multiple men could be complicated, but being frank about feelings and needs is vital to keep this on a straight path. I shift backward, standing on shaky legs, and hold my hand out to him.
“Tonight, I’ll come to you all,” I say. “Sleep, and I’ll wake you when it’s your turn.”
There’s a murmur of agreement, and someone flicks off the TV. We walk as a group, following the stairs, but when we get to the top, Cary takes my hand. “Goodnight,” he says to his brothers, and I smile at them all as he leads me into his room and closes the door.
It’s immediately dark, and Cary doesn’t move to turn on the lamp on his nightstand. His eyes flash in the darkness, and he moves to kiss me, gripping me under the ass and lifting me into his arms.
I had an expectation of what he might be like as a lover. By day he’s the softest and most empathetic of his brothers. He has watchful cloud-colored eyes that seem to always be assessing everyone’s mood. He’s a master of finding ways to keep the group upbeat and unified, but behind closed doors, Cary is something different.
His fingers grip my flesh with passion, and his kiss is deep and demanding. My back is pressed up against the wood of the door, and he grinds into me with desperation.
“Shit,” he mutters, the first cuss word I’ve heard leave his lips as his hands slide beneath my clothes and cup my breasts. “Do you understand how much I wanted you from the first time I saw you?”
“At the auction?” I definitely wasn’t looking my best that day.
“No, at the town fair last year.”
“You saw me at the fair?” I grip Cary’s shoulders, feeling his whole body heaving with deep, steadying breaths.
“I saw you walking with your dad. You were wearing this white blouse with a denim skirt, and you had your hair down. It was blowing in the breeze. I remember the way you smiled and laughed and how you looked around at everything like you were in Paris or something.”
“You really remember that?”
“You ate cotton candy, and the wind blew it out of your hand.”
He really does remember.
“I knew from that moment that I wanted you.”
“What were you going to do?”
He shrugs, leaning in to kiss my neck. “I had this plan to approach your dad, you know, like in the old days.”
“What were you going to say?”
“That I wanted to date his daughter, and did I have permission to ask you.” He smiles and rubs his nose against mine. “And then things got bad for you, and I didn’t know what to do to make it better.”
“I think this is a pretty good start.”
“Yeah?” He kisses me again, and this time things feel different. He remembers the girl I was before I was destitute, and he wanted me then. It changes the way I think about how this started. There is more here than just me being in the right place at the right time.
He moves me to the bed, dropping us unceremoniously into the center and shoving at my clothes. We’re naked so fast, and his face is buried between my legs before I can register. He moans, inhaling and licking like I’m the sweetest thing he ever tasted, and I’m lost in the memory of a boy gazing at a girl across a crowd on a summer’s day.
I come like the warm breeze that stole my candy floss, heart pounding like the drums of the country band that were playing that day, and Cary pushes inside me, claiming me as his.
It’s different from how it was with Scott. That was about surrender, but this is about hope. This is about innocent attraction and gentle care. His hands cup my head, holding me in place, his eyes never leaving mine. He grinds into me slowly, relishing each pump of his hips, each withdrawal from my most private place.
“You’re mine now,” he says softly, right before he comes. And I am.
Body and soul, I am.
After, when I’m lying cocooned in his arms, I stroke his face. “My pa would have liked you,” I say. “Not at first, because of what you did buying up those farms, but when he got to know you, he would have given his approval.”
And Cary’s smile tells me everything I needed to know.