Prologue

"Fucking fuck." My hand meets my cock, fisting it as a vision of Juniper Cartwright appears behind my closed eyes. I use the precum at the tip as lube with each pass of my hand and go back to imagining what I'm doing to the woman I've taken in every position in my head every damn night for months now.

Juniper on her knees, her lips plump from sucking my cock, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she's got one hand at the base of my length as the other one cups my balls.

My body holding her up as I rock my hips in and out of her tight cunt while the backs of her knees hang in the crooks of my elbows. She"s unable to move, helpless to the way I swivel my hips, hitting her clit the way I know she needs in order to come for me. And I'm the only damn man who will ever make her orgasm this hot and fast.

I've thought about how Juniper would look like riding my dick, allowing her to take over and find hers. My hands would be full of her tits, giving her the added pleasure in order for her to come before I ever did.

The fucking list is endless and enough to have me fucking my hand more than I care to admit. And my cock is getting damn tired of it not being Juni's mouth, cunt, or ass. My dick pulses as I think about how tight she'll feel wrapped around me.

"Son of a bitch." A flashback of last night takes hold. We're on the dance floor. Juniper is in my arms, my leg wedged between her thighs, and I watch as her eyes shutter closed. I could feel her heat through my jeans and her flimsy excuse of a skirt. Shit, that's where things get fuzzy. Did she come for me in a crowded room full of people? Damn, if I missed her moaning my name, I'll be kicking my own ass.

I imagine Juniper in my personal favorite position, fantasizing about taking her from behind. That's not this particular moment though, I'll have to save that for another time. I would've already had my way with her mouth, kissing her until she was breathless and leaving her lips plump and full. Juniper's body would be arching into mine, rubbing her bare and glistening cunt along my abdomen, reaching for an orgasm only I can give her. Only when she's consumed with need would I leave her lips. I'd taste her skin, nipping and licking my way to what I'm sure are the prettiest pebbled nipples my eyes ever saw. The rasp from my five-o'clock shadow leaving beard marks along the silky soft skin of her neck, marking her in a way every fucking man can see. I'd do similar to her tits, rubbing my chin and cheeks around each nipple, making it my mission to see if I can make her come while playing without anything else but my mouth and fingers on her tits. While my mouth works one nipple, my fingers would pinch and pull on the other.

"Juniper." My body locks up, the base of my spine tingling in that all too fucking familiar feeling. I'm not ready to lose this sensation. There's no way I'm rushing, not when I turn my head and smell her on my sheets.

Juniper Cartwright smells like a sultry summer night, spicy and sweet, with the slightest undertone of jasmine. All fucking woman and all fucking mine.

I don't stop what I'm doing. There's no damn way I'm not going to see this all the way through. I go back to jacking my cock. I'd work myself into her slowly, an inch at a time. I'm not ashamed to admit I've got length and girth going for me, and I damn sure know Juniper can take me.

"Juniper," I groan her name once again, more from the need to sink my dick inside of her than the need to come all over my stomach. Except there's no stopping the build-up. My body isn't my own when it comes to her. The need to protect her from herself, to watch over her, and to make her become mine is always simmering just below the surface. One day soon, I'm going to make her see exactly what she does to me. And I'll do it while I'm buried deep inside her.

That's all it takes. My body is no longer mine to command. There's no control. There're only thick white ropes of cum jetting out of my dick and coating my stomach and hand. I make a promise to myself: no more jacking off thinking about Juniper. The next time I come, it's going to be with her here in my bed.

"Jesus." I attempt to open my eyes after finishing myself off only to lower my lids immediately. The sun shining through the window is enough to cause sweat to coat my skin, my head to throb, and my stomach to revolt. Flashbacks of last night play like a movie trailer behind my eyelids, only it's more like a ten-second clip. I remember getting to the bar and seeing Trey was belly up to the counter. Shit was a domino effect from there. A bet was a bet. Trey thought he could drink me under the table. Fucking brothers, I swear. We went straight for the liquor instead of our usual of River Pale Ale at The Fillin' Station. Last night though, I decided to let lose and drink what feels like my weight in Jim Beam. Not my finest night, and I can tell you hanging with your younger brother can only come with choices that have you wincing the morning after.

Whoever lost would be on fence duty at night for the next month, which was a bitch since after you work a full day, you're essentially on call, too. Especially this time of year when it's breeding season. Bulls from other pastures and our own like to get out. Fucking is the only damn thing they want, and they'll do whatever it takes when they see a heifer in heat. Needless to say, I'm not sure who won. The blips of memories swirling around in my head aren't the greatest. I lift my arm to cover my eyes, and that's when I smell Juniper yet again.

A memory more clearly comes to light. Of course, my only thought a few moments ago was coming. Now more things are coming to me from last night before another round of shots and beer was drunk. One where I had her in my arms on the dance floor with my knee wedged between her thighs. There was no anger in her eyes. I didn"t have to worry about her doing something to injure herself. When I spun Juni around, she gave me a smile I felt in my dick. It didn't help when her ass rubbed against me either. When the song came to an end, she went her way and I went mine. That must be where her scent is coming from. She'd been wrapped in my arms, and it didn't take too much persuading either.

Unfortunately, that's where things get hazy again. Trey ordered round after round, both of us barely able to clink our shot glasses together after round five or six. He was hell bent on doing his best at winning our bet. Fast forward to this morning and I'm at my house, in my bed, and I've got no recollection of how I got here.

My phone pinging causes my head to pound. I slap my hand near the nightstand, trying to grab the damn thing as it goes off more than once. I'd place a bet right about now that it's the family group chat going off. Except the last thing I want to think about is gambling again, especially if there's alcohol involved. I grab the damn thing, open one eye, and check who's texting me.

Trey: How are you feeling?

Trey: My head is fucking killing me.

Trey: Lucky bastard, you won the bet and got a ride home from a pretty girl.

Trey: Wake up, asshole.

Trey: Man, you don't need your beauty sleep. I'm the one who lost the bet.

Trey would annoy me, if not for the good mood I'm in. He's always sending a series of texts that could have been managed in one message.

Me: Just getting up. You must be in better shape than I am.

I smirk, not sure how he lost the bet considering my memories aren't all too clear. The time on the phone tells me I've overslept. Breakfast will long be put away and I'm gonna get all kinds of shit for being late on weekend chores. My body protests when I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed, and my fucking stomach revolts.

Trey: Not fucking hardly. Get your ass up.

Trey: I'm bringing breakfast. Be there in ten.

Great, now I've gotta grab a shower, clean my room, and try to figure out how the fuck I got home last night. I know Trey well enough, though. He'll make me ask twenty-one questions and talk the damn thing to death. It's going to be a long-as-hell day, that's for sure.