Page 77 of Coming Home Country
“Don’t you fucking dare.” Tucker’s deep words of warning sent a delicious shiver down my spine.
Never discount a country boy’s manners. It was practically an insult to deny him the privilege of opening the door for me.
“We doing this in the car, then?” I arched an eyebrow.
“Don’t tempt me,” he shot back as he swung the driver’s side door open and hopped out.
Flushed and achy, I couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto my lips.
The girl I used to be before leaving Rust Canyon would never have been so bold as I was earlier on that dance floor. She would never have pushed Tucker’s buttons, forcing him to take action. She would have been frightened at the idea of rough sex because she didn’t understand how good it could be.
The Bex Crawford I was now had been forged in fire. The past had changed me, made me stronger, braver.
I was ready to beownedby Tucker Grant.
Cool air rushed over my heated skin when the door beside me was wrenched open. I reached for Tucker, frowning when something held me back.
A barely contained chuckle sounded from the man as he reached a hand over my lap and pressed the button to release the latch of the seat belt. He didn’t have to say a word for me to know what he was thinking. I wouldn’t have made it very far in my attempt to let myself out of the vehicle; my impulsiveness had caused me to skip a crucial step.
He thought it was funny that I was so hopped up on hormones that I couldn’t see straight, let alone think straight? Fine. I’d wipe that smirk off his face.
The minute my feet touched down on solid ground, I turned the tables.
My hand slid from its perch on his shoulder, moving down his chest and not stopping until my palm rested over his erection, straining against the front of his pants. Instead of rubbing, I squeezed with enough pressure to make him hiss.
“There’s no one around for miles.”
His hoarse words sank in slowly. He was telling me that if I wanted to make good on my promise to drop to my knees out in the open, he wouldn’t stop me this time.
I searched his eyes, seeking permission. Tucker gave the slightest dip of his chin.
Good enough for me.
The light pouring from the cab of the truck at my back was enough to see what I was doing when I threaded the leather of his belt through the buckle before undoing the button of his pants and lowering the zipper.
Before doing anything else, I lifted my gaze, keeping it locked with his as I lowered to kneel in the dirt.
Tucker’s rough swallow was audible, and he tangled one hand in my hair.
We’d never done it like this. In the past, he’d always been lying down when I used my mouth to make him feel good.
That position had allowed me the freedom to explore at my own pace. This one put him in control.
The throbbing between my thighs intensified, growing impossible to ignore.
With one hand, I tugged on the waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock. With the other, I rucked up my skirt enough to shove my hand beneath it.
The groan from above was so loud that I peeked up. Twin blue flames stared back at me, practically glowing in the darkness.
“Fuck, baby. Does the idea of sucking my cock turn you on that much? That you can’t keep from touching yourself while you get me off?”
My lashes fluttered at his dirty words.
Gripping his stiff shaft, Tucker stroked the length of it a few times before bringing the tip to my lips, smearing the precum that had leaked out across them. My tongue darted out, desperate for a taste. When the salty flavor of him burst across my taste buds, a moan worked its way up my throat and into the night air.
Tucker’s grip on my hair tightened, his voice growing deeper as he commanded, “Open.”
My lips parted automatically, granting him entry. Slowly, he fed me his cock, inch by inch, until the blunt end reached the back of my throat. When a slight gag sounded, he pulled back, almost removing himself completely from my mouth before surging forward again.
