Page 29 of Bronco
“Well, maybe I wanted to carry that with you. Did you ever consider that?”
I stare at her for a long moment. I can’t tell her the truth without tipping my hand. Because the truth is that I want to shield Lauren from every bad and awful thing in this world. And if that means I bear darkness and heartache on my own, then I’ll gladly take that pain. I’ll endure it because she is sweetness and sunshine.
She sighs softly. “I’m only ever going to be his kid’s sister to you, aren’t I?”
“No, that’s not what this is about.”
“Then what’s this about?”
I hesistate, trying to figure out what to tell her. Finally, I decide to start att the beginning. “I was raised on a farm by a cowboy named Clay. He looked after me. He fed me and clothed me. He played games with me every day, and he taught me to work the land.”
“But he wasn’t your dad?”
I don’t tell her that he never let me call him dad or how damn much that still hurts. I push back against the pain. Doesn’t matter. Not anymore. “No, he wasn’t my dad. Whenever I’d ask him about my parents, he would tell me these amazing stories. They were royalty from another country, and they would be arriving to take me back to the palace any day. Or he would say they were living in a far flung forest studying the animals, and when I got old enough I would join them. But none of that was true.”
“So where were your parents then?”
“I still don’t know to this day. He passed away without ever telling me. No matter how much I begged, he never would. At some point I figured, they must not have been good people. Maybe he did me a favor.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I’m not trying to keep you out or push you away. I’m just not used to anyone caring about me.” I step closer to her and cup her face. “Don’t mistake my silence for apathy. It’s anything but that. Not when it comes to you.”
She whimpers my name.
I kiss her, tasting the sweet tea and innocence on her lips. My cock hardens. I want her again already with a need that’s almost feral.
“Bronco…” She calls my name softly.
“I want another taste,” I tell her, getting to my knees. She’s not wearing panties, and my cock grows impossibly harder at the sight of her pink pussy, still slick and swollen from where I took her earlier.
“Wait.” She threads her fingers through my hair. “Only do this if you plan to let me return the favor later.”
Fuck me, the thought of Lauren on her knees for me is too much. I unbutton my pants to ease some of the pressure on my cock. Then I lick that pretty little slit until she’s creaming against my beard and swearing under her breath as she begs for mercy.
When I get to my feet, I grab her hips and drag her half off the counter. She’s impaled, taking me so tightly in her snug channel. Sweat runs down my back as I bounce her up and down. Every motion earns a desperate moan from her lips and another swipe of her nails against my skin. But this is more than just slaking my physical lust. Something in my chest is cracking wide open. I’ve tried to hold back, to keep my distance. But I can’t anymore, and I’m finally admitting it to myself. Lauren is mine. Always has been, and I’ll never be anything but hers.
The knowledge has me coming, spilling into her at the same time she screams out her pleasure. We’re together in this moment, and I wish it could always be this simple and easy between us.
“That did not happen!” Lauren giggles from her place on the porch swing. She’s snuggled up against my chest, her head resting on me like I’m her personal pillow. A cowboy should be so lucky.
“Swear on a stack of Bibles, that’s exactly what I did,” I insist and chuckle too. The practical joke I played on Ridge years ago still makes me laugh. That’s the thing about serving together. You get to know the other men in your unit so well that you know exactly how to push their buttons.
She shakes her head and goes back to working on her laptop. She’s been editing photos in between talking with me. We’ve spent the day together, mainly eating and laughing and sometimes, making love. Everything with Lauren is easy. Simple. We just fit and rightness fills my chest as I go back to reading my book.
It’s some romantic thriller. Apparently, Emma May’s son writes romance books under the name Eva Nightshade. The moment she figured it out, she started stocking his books at her registers, and you can’t leave her store without at least one in your cart. No one is prouder than a mama from Courage County.
After an hour of silence has passed, she nudges me in the thigh, toes digging into my flesh. I like the way it feels too damn much. I like everything Lauren does.
“What do you think?” She spins around the laptop to face me, showing me a shirtless picture of Ridge scowling at the camera. He’s got a lasso over his head, the intense look in his eye reminding me of that time he roped one of the guys during a flash flood. Would have lost him if it weren’t for Ridge’s quick thinking. The land here is beautiful and free, but it’s also wild, untamed, and absolutely brutal if you turn your back on it.
I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to say to Ridge’s photo. Can’t remember if I’ve ever seen him smile. “Looks like a cowboy to me.”
She snorts. “Bree and Joyce would be much better at helping me with this.”
I agree with her just as my phone beeps, and I reach for the ice bag on her ankle to remove it for a few minutes. We’ve been alternating twenty minutes on and twenty minutes off. Well, that’s not true. I’ve been alternating. She’s been sending me looks like she thinks I’m hovering. Don’t care if I’m being a little overbearing. I want to spoil the shit out of Lauren.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her as I gently rub the cold skin to warm it back up.
