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Brock’s Hellion

Note: Nicole Austin’s Books are intended for those readers 18 years old or older.

A loud blast rent the air. Tink yelped and clutched her chest. Her heart raced beneath her palm. If they were anywhere near the ocean she would have sworn it was a ship’s horn, but the ranch was landlocked.

“Jesus, Van! Was that really necessary?”

Looking over her shoulder to where Tamara had directed her complaint, she spotted Savannah standing at the doorway holding an air horn. Hearing the pounding of boots against the hard-packed ground, Tink’s head snapped toward the ranch yard. The vision before her made her entire body clench.

Dayum, she must have been a very good girl.

Four rough-and-ready cowboys were headed for the porch at a rapid clip. Well, three cowboys and an Indian. Her mouth watered as she watched the flex and play of muscle as they moved.

“That’s one fine sight,” someone muttered. Tink agreed but didn’t take her eyes off the men to say so. Her hungry gaze devoured the hunks she’d met briefly upon arriving at the ranch.

Cord, Savannah’s husband, wore a stern expression. A riot of emotions blazed in his stormy gray eyes. The man had the broadest shoulders and most amazing biceps. Savannah was one lucky woman.

To his left must be Dakota, black hair fluttering around his shoulders, bright sunlight making some of the strands appear deep blue. His dark gaze was indulgent and watchful.

The only one actually smiling was Riley. Dark hair hung down into blue eyes filled with youthful exuberance. Her fingers itched to sweep it back in place. The man was too sexy for his own good.

But when she caught sight of Brock, the breath caught in her throat and her libido kicked into overdrive. His body in motion was pure sexual enticement. From easy rolling gait to confident demeanor, he made her think of long sultry nights spent making love.

“Close your mouth, sugar,” Tamara whispered in her ear. “Don’t let him see how much you want him. The payoff will be much sweeter if you make him sweat it out.”

Tink’s jaw snapped shut and she considered denying the attraction but it would be an exercise in futility. There was no concealing the desire surging through her veins.

“Hey, honey.” Savannah gave her husband a sweet and innocent smile.

“You can forget whatever crazy damn stunt that’s playing through your pretty little head, Van.” His hard expression made it clear Cord didn’t buy into her act.

Savannah pouted. “I’m not always running around stirring up trouble.”

His voice grew firm. “I’m serious, sugar. There’s too much work to get done before winter arrives and starts dumping snow on us.” He stomped up the steps, not stopping until they stood toe-to-toe.

Tink almost laughed at the brazen way Savannah rubbed against her husband in an apparent attempt to distract and sweet-talk him. “But, honey. The boys have been workin’ real hard. They need a break.”

“Don’t ‘but, honey’ me.” Cord stood firm, unwilling to budge, and yet Savannah must have seen a crack in his armor. They stared into each other’s eyes and raw energy crackled between the couple.

“Oh, great,” Tamara sighed. “There they go again, having a private conversation with their eyes.”

The way Tamara leaned toward Dakota’s body made Tink think of a flower bending to soak in the warmth of the sun. It must feel wonderful to share a love like theirs.

“Come, my spirit. Let’s go to the cabin and have our own private talk.”

His softly spoken words were meant only for Tamara’s ears. Overhearing them made Tink feel as if she intruded on their intimate moment. Dakota somehow knew and reassured her with a wink as the pair strolled away. Tink knew by watching them she put off meeting Brock’s intent gaze, but didn’t trust herself with all the pheromones flying around.

Cord growled, “One hour. Not a minute more, sugar. And don’t even think about joining in the games.”

Savannah rose up on her toes, sliding her arms around Cord’s neck. “I love you.” They melted into each other and indulged in a scorching-hot kiss.

Tink didn’t even try to avert her gaze. Her pulse rate soared as their heads tilted for deeper possession. Savannah’s lips parted on a gusty sigh, their tongues beginning a carnal dance that had Tink breathing shallow and fast.

Her breasts swelled and her pussy heated. Slick cream slid over her sensitive folds. She needed something long and hard to fill the empty void and ease the internal quivering. The friction of a large cock slamming into her core, heavy balls slapping against her body would do the job nicely.

Brock.

Her gaze shot to the tall cowboy where he stood on the bottom step, body tensed, fists clenched. A generous bulge strained the front of his jeans, angled to the left and extending to his hip. Tink licked her lips, knowing his natural, earthy scent would be richer there and wondering how he would taste.

She couldn’t take her eyes of the rolling of his hips as he moved up the steps onto the porch, putting his pelvis front and center in her field of view. Becoming aware of his weighty stare, her gaze traveled upward. The faded material of his T-shirt hugged a flat stomach and firm pecs. His rapid pulse was visible—a spastic, thrumming beat in the corded column of his neck. The pressure of his rigid jaw compressed his lips into a thin white line, a stark contrast to the dark mustache above. His nostrils flared with each accelerated breath he drew. She still avoided meeting his gaze.

“Look at me.” His voice was full of command, demanding she surrender to his will.

An unaccustomed fear fought against innate curiosity. Oh God, no. The raw emotion coming from him was too intense. Powerful and consuming. She had to get away before she crumbled and lost herself.

Brock watched in stunned silence as a visible change washed over Tink. The unguarded loneliness and blatant need illuminating her face disappeared behind a stony mask. She drew them inside, twisting them into dark anger that vibrated through her as she rose, casting an accusatory glare in his direction but failing to meet his eyes. The truth hit him with the force of a two-ton truck. The hellion was afraid of the emotions he stirred to life within her.

“Don’t order me around, Tex.”

She spat out the last word as if it was distasteful. Fire flashed in her turbulent eyes. An angry flush reddened her cheeks. Her breasts quivered with the quick expansion and deflation of her lungs.

Fucking magnificent.

“You’re aroused and that scares the hell out of you. Why is that, darlin’?” It wasn’t a true question so he didn’t expect an answer.

“Oh, please. Wait, let me guess. You’re going to claim credit for this supposed sexual affliction and offer to fuck it out of me.”

“She’s even more of a bitch than Tamara.” Riley’s muttered comment went ignored.

Damn, Brock found it sexy as hell when she stood up to him no matter how much he scared her. Her eyes widened in shock when he didn’t back down either. Obviously, Tink was used to men letting her have her way.

“Brock,” Savannah cautioned.

He ignored the warning. “I wish you could see yourself. Your hair is wild, skin flushed, eyes dark, pulse erratic. I can feel the need burning up your body without even touching you.”

Pushing her physical boundaries, he leaned forward. Everyone and everything else disappeared from his consciousness. For each backward step she took he advanced until they were separated by the barest fraction of an inch, the wall at her back blocking her escape.

“You’re wet. I can smell the cream flowing between your thighs. I can feel the heat rising from your skin.” He dropped his voice to an intimate whisper. “You want me.”

“I want you to drop dead,” Tink snarled. She pushed up on the balls of her feet, meeting him glare for glare.

For the briefest second, as she lifted her fists, he thought he’d gone too far but she opened her hands and he gasped as she clutched the sleeves of his shirt, fingernails digging into his biceps. Then the hellion exploded. Only instead of pushing him away in anger, Tink yanked him closer. She pressed into him, smashing her breasts against his chest.

“Fuck me!” Her voice sounded harsh—desperate.

“Cord, do something,” Steph implored her big brother.

Brock took his eyes off Tink only long enough to rip his shirt over his head and toss it to the porch railing.

“Riley, Steph, inside now,” Cord ordered. “Give them some privacy.”

“Privacy, on the front porch?” Riley snickered. “Get a room.” His laughter trailed away behind him as he moved into the house.

Boots scuffed over the wooden porch and the screen door slapped against its frame. Still, Brock didn’t spare the others a glance, easily picturing them scrambling in a mad dash to get inside before he fucked Tink right there against the wall. None of it mattered and all was forgotten as he lowered his head and their lips met.

There was nothing tender or gentle in his kiss. It was blistering, naked, carnal. Needs held in check too long erupted. Lips clashed, teeth gnashed, tongues battled for supremacy, each taking what they needed and demanding more. Fingers groped and tore at clothing in a near violent attack that drove them both higher.

Brock squeezed her full breasts and pinched her taut nipples without mercy. She enjoyed a firm touch, thrilled at the heady rush that came with the sharp bite of pain, becoming a wildcat in his arms, single-minded in her lust. Fuck, yeah, what a turn-on!