Page 20 of Rush Turner
Max had his head under the hood of an old truck, Fraiser was arguing with Jack about which oil filter worked best on a ‘68 Camaro, and I was elbow-deep in the carburetor of the BelAir I’d promised Jessa I’d fix.
“What are you grinning at, Turner?” Jack asked, wiping grease on a rag that used to be a T-shirt.
“Nothing,” I said, tightening a bolt that didn’t actually need tightening.
Max leaned around the truck fender, smirking. “Nothing, huh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with that pretty little farm girl and her herd of demon goats?”
“I heard about Tornado. Good luck with that, brother,” Jack said.
“Shut up,” I muttered, but I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Jessa’s face when she saw the BelAir running again—that’d be worth every goat hoofprint on my truck hood.
“Careful, Turner,” Jack drawled, “next thing we know, you’ll be hosting goat yoga out back.”
“Keep talking, Raider. I’ll sign you up first.”
They all laughed, and for a minute, it felt like the old days—loud, reckless, simple. But underneath it, I knew exactly where I wanted to be when I left here. And it wasn’t this garage.
I pulledinto the farm late that evening everyone but Jessa was sleeping, the BelAir rumbling smooth and sweet under me. Jessa came out on the porch barefoot, her hair up, that smile hitting me square in the chest. I knew she would still be awake.
“You did it,” she said, breathless as I killed the engine. “Ethel runs?”
I leaned against the open door. “Purrs like a kitten. Or… should I say John Wayne. Where has he been hiding?”
She laughed, stepping closer until she was between my legs, her hands sliding up my arms. That laugh always got me—always made me forget everything else.
“You gonna take me for a ride?” she teased.
“Later,” I said, dipping my head so my mouth brushed hers. “Right now, I got other plans.”
Her fingers curled in my shirt. “Do you?”
“Yeah. Starts with you letting the goats fend for themselves for tonight.”
She didn’t argue. Just slipped her hand into mine and tugged me toward the porch steps.
“Are you ready for this, sweetheart?”
“I’m more than ready, I’ve wanted you since that goat head butted you and you went sprawling in the mud.”
I chuckled.
Upstairs, her room smelled like her—soft, clean, a little wild. I backed her up against the door before it even shut, kissing her like I’d been starving for her all day.
Which I had. Thankfully, she chose the bedroom at the end of the hall, so we didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing us.
She laughed into my mouth when I kicked off my boots without looking. “Rush Turner, are you making a mess in my room?”
“Darlin’, you have no idea what kind of mess we are about to make. As soon as she was naked, I stripped my clothes off and picked her up and walked to the bed. We fell backwards she laughed, as her legs wrapped around me.
“I want you to make love to me.”
“Not yet.”
“Rush.”
I turned her over, and my mouth trailed kisses down her smooth body. She was getting so hot, I could tell by the noises coming from deep in her throat. I kissed my way back up as my hand slipped between her thighs. She cried out, and I chuckled.
Then I heard her chuckle, until my fingers slipped inside all that wetness. My thumb played with her clit and she screamed for more as her body tightened up as she came, I didn’t stop and she came three more times before I slipped my hard cock inside her.
