17. Brynne

Chapter 17

Brynne

W hen I'd arrived here days ago, I'd unpacked my luggage, stuffing my few belongings in the drawers and closet. The idea that I'd be here long enough to need to do that was ridiculous, and now, as I piled all the clothing back into my two bags, I wished I would've just left them in there neatly folded away to begin with.

Maybe it would've hurt less if I had.

I shouldn't have allowed myself to grow attached. But fuck . Booker handled me the way I'd always wanted to be handled, like a flower that could withstand being plucked, picked, and cut. My exterior walls hid the delicateness of my heart, and he'd penetrated them with ease. He challenged me, breaking down my barriers and building them up at the same time.

And yet he'd said he wouldn't care what happened to me after all of this.

The man truly was selfish.

I should've known to never get involved with a rancher. The land would always be more important. I'd never be a priority, and he'd made that clear.

So I zipped the luggage, hefting it up off the ground, and rolled it next to the door to finish filling the second one.

With my back to the door, I heard it creak open, but I didn't need to turn around to know who stood there. His presence dominated all the air in the room, the universe and my senses bending to him.

No footsteps sounded, indicating he was still standing in the doorway, most likely staring at my luggage.

He got what he wanted. Chase would lead him to wherever the deed was, so my part in this was over.

"What was the gunshot?" I asked, folding my green crewneck to lay it in the bag.

"Taking care of a problem." The low timbre of his voice vibrated through me, and I wanted to turn to him. I wanted so badly for him to hold me. But he wasn't like that. He was Booker—closed off and the definition of an asshole. And me? Well, I wasn't his.

I didn't respond as I shoved my socks in the side pocket of the bag.

I didn't hear him move, but then his hands were at my waist, and my hands froze on the t-shirt I was about to pick up.

"Guess what, Darlin'?" His lips were a caress on my ear, and I didn't want them to leave.

My hand fisted in the fabric as I waited for him to go on.

"He's dead, and I'm still here."

I subtly shook my head, my breaths getting shorter as my lungs tightened.

"I still care," he said, the words almost a whisper as his hands slid down to my hips, gripping them.

"Clearly you don't have your deed back, then." Otherwise, he'd be kicking me out tonight.

"No, I don't."

"So once you get it, I'm gone." I said it as if he hadn't made the rules himself. As if he didn't ingrain them in my mind earlier today.

"You're mad at me." There was no question in his tone.

"You told me you didn't care what happened to me after all of this was done." I was just his fucking pawn.

He spun me around, hands fisted in my loose sweater. "I said that to get your ass back in the truck."

"You said it because it's true," I corrected. "It's clear you don't feel anything for me, so excuse me for getting caught up in the moment."

He pulled me closer, my chest to his. "You're the only woman I do fucking feel for, Brynne, and it pisses me the fuck off."

My eyes narrowed as my teeth ground together. "Well, sorry for making you so fucking mad! I didn't ask you to fuck me, didn't ask you to be fucking nice to me, or offer for me to move in."

His fingers gripped my chin hard, tilting my head up further. I both loved and hated him for doing that in this moment, because I loved his rough hands on me, but I hated that the act fucked with my head. "You think I want you to leave after all of this? "

"Yes!" Our voices were rising, tension radiating through my limbs with the impulse to run.

"Is what I'm doing not good enough for you, then?"

His insecurities barreled into me like a freight train with no brakes. He thought I was rejecting him, that I wasn't into him. But that was the fucking problem. "What you're doing is more than enough, Booker. So much so, that I don't think I ever want to leave, because if I do, what if I never find what we have right now? What if I find another wimp like Chase or an asshole like that guy at the gym?"

His dark eyes softened, and I wanted to get lost in them. Fuck—I feared I already was.

"Then don't," he said softly.

"What?"

"Don't leave."

My mouth parted as I stared at him, studying his face like I might be able to tell if he was speaking the truth or not. Did he really want that? Want me?

"I have to." My words broke, my voice barely a whisper.

He shook his head, but rather than fight me, beg me, plead for me to stay, he showed me how desperately he needed it. Needed me. His lips crashed to mine, stealing all coherent thoughts and emotions. My feelings poured into him like a tidal wave, our mouths moving in sync as the kiss deepened. His tongue was lost, searching for salvation with mine as a galaxy of doubt washed away on the wind, leaving only us in this room with the world fading away.

The deed, Chase, the attacks—none of it mattered right now.

Only us, and the way he lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist like they were meant to be there.

He laid me gently on the bed, hovering over me as his mouth stayed glued to mine. His hips rested between my legs, adding pressure right where I needed it. Needed him.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, standing again. I propped up on my elbows, ready to beg him to stay, but then he was pulling his shirt off, and I nearly fell back to the mattress. For the second time, I drank in the sight of tattoos and scars that littered his torso, every inch of him hard and well-defined.

He got to work on his button and zipper, dropping his jeans and boxers to the ground. His cock sprang out, and my mouth salivated at the sight. I sat up, tugging my sweater over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra, and Booker clearly loved it as his gaze heated at the sight of my bare breasts. I slid to the edge of the bed, then off the side, landing on my knees on the rug.

He grabbed my chin in his punishing grip, making me look up at him. "I want to pleasure you tonight."

"This will." I scooted forward slightly, wrapping a hand around his length. "Please."

His chest rose with his deep inhale as he debated letting me have what I wanted. "Please what, Darlin'?"

I brought my mouth to the tip of his cock, not wrapping my lips around it, as I said, "Please let me suck your cock, Booker."

His fingers tightened on my chin before his thumb rubbed my skin. "That what you want, Darlin'? To choke on my cock?"

I nodded, darting my tongue out to wet my lips and coasting it over the bead of moisture building on his head.

"Then open that pretty mouth. "

I did, and he dropped my chin to thrust forward, using no restraint as he stuffed my mouth full of his cock, the tip sliding down my throat on the first go. My tongue twitched, and he tangled a hand in my hair, pulling my mouth off of him. Using his other hand, he stuck his fingers in my mouth, hooking them on the back of my tongue. I gagged, my eyes watering as he kept his digits still.

"Breathe through your nose, Darlin'. You're taking all of it tonight."

I tried to steady my breaths as he shoved his fingers deeper. Saliva dripped from my mouth as I choked, and he pulled them out fast. In a flash, he replaced his hand with his cock, keeping my head in place as he buried himself down my throat.

I did as he said, breathing through my nose to try to calm the reflex. He pulled my mouth off of him all the way, watching as my spit glistened over my chin, my eyes full of unshed tears from the fullness of him.

"You're such a good little slut." His hand caressed my cheek, and I leaned into it slightly as I caught my breath. "Always taking me so well. All your holes were made for me, weren't they?"

I nodded, and then his fist tightened in my hair as he brought his cock to my lips again. They parted, and he slid in, fucking my mouth. He used me for his own pleasure, and with that, my core heated. I was a fucking mess, on my face and between my thighs, and already, I wanted to let go.

The room was full of his groans and the sounds my mouth made as he thrust in and out of me. Each time he hit the back of my throat, I tried to hold back my gag, but every few times, my tongue would react, jumping up at the underside of his cock.

His hand reached down to my breast, squeezing the flesh in his grip. Then, his fingers moved to tug at my nipple, and pure bliss coursed through me at the sensation.

He seated his cock deep in the back of my throat again, then pulled out. He hooked his hands under my arms and lifted me, setting me on the bed. His fingers curled around the hem of my leggings before he yanked them down. He left my underwear on, but rather than shoving it to the side, he grabbed a pocket knife from his discarded pants and ripped a hole clean through the material, revealing my soaked center.

He tossed the knife to the side and dragged a finger up my pussy, his skin instantly coated. Hovering over me with a hand on the mattress, he brought the digits to my lips and I sucked them willingly.

"Taste how sweet you are, Darlin'. How good you taste when you want nothing other than me to fill you. Fuck you. Please you."

He popped his finger out of my mouth, then brought it back to my pussy. He slid two into my entrance, and I arched my back, a moan escaping my lips.

His lips clamped down on my nipple, pulling it into his mouth with a hard suck. His tongue darted along the bud, his teeth grazing it, sending electricity sparking through my very veins. He lit me like a goddamn light bulb, and I never wanted to be turned off. This feeling was all I ever wanted, and I could die happy at his hands in this moment.

His fingers thrust in and out fast, the tips of them hooked just enough to hit that perfect spot deep inside me. My head tossed back, exposing my neck. His mouth released my breast, and I instantly missed him as he removed the digits as well.

Right as I opened my eyes to look up at him, he was placing my vibrator against my clit and clicking it on. Stars burst in my vision as he wrapped a large hand around my throat, pressing me into the bed. He added pressure, cutting off my air as my lower back arched the slightest bit. He watched my reaction as he clicked up the speed, the toy bringing me close to the edge I so desperately wanted to fall off of.

His hand lifted slightly, staying on my throat but giving me enough reprieve to allow me to breathe. I sucked in air, but all too quickly, he was cutting it off again, and my belly twitched as my orgasm rushed through me without warning.

My thighs clenched together as butterflies swarmed my insides, lighting every nerve on fire and cooling it with ice all at the same time. Booker let me breathe again as I released, and my scream rent through the air as he kept the toy on my clit.

My body shook, my thighs tense, as wave after wave rippled through me in every which way. Then, he removed his hand, setting it on the bed beside my head, and kept the vibrator on my clit as he slid his cock inside me. My orgasm peaked again with the feeling of him filling me.

"You're so fucking tight after you come," Booker hissed, moving his hips.

I moaned, the sound filling the room as he quickened his thrusts. He brought his hand around my neck again, cutting off my windpipe as he fucked me.

There was no holding back, no dodging our feelings. We were one and the same in this moment, and I wanted nothing else more than this.

He groaned before seating himself to the hilt, spilling inside me as my release kept coming. He slid the vibrator out from between us, clicking it off and tossing it to the comforter as he lightened his hold on my neck. I sucked in air as we stayed together, and when I looked up at him, I found him staring at me.

He removed his hand altogether, setting both on either side of my head. Booker dipped down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. Then, he rolled off the side of me, wrapping his arms around my body to pull me closer to him. I rested my head on his tattooed chest, laying a leg over his muscular thigh. My fingers coasted over the swirls of ink, lingering on the puckered skin where various slices had healed over the years.

We fell asleep like that, with our feelings shouted into the universe and our bodies weaving them into permanent existence.

I wouldn't be leaving, and he wouldn't send me away.

The thought both terrified and excited me all the same, but I swallowed my fear and let Booker hold me until morning.