Page 59

JAXON

The sun has barely cleared the ridge when I finish up my chores. The others are still working hard, but I'm buzzing with energy. Grace is home. She's real and here and breathing under our roof again, and hell, if that isn't enough to put a charge in my blood.

I jog up the back steps two at a time, wiping sweat from my neck with the hem of my shirt.

The hallway is quiet, and I glance around, half expecting to find kids underfoot, but they must be sleeping.

The house still carries that sacred hush you only get this early in the morning.

I head for the bathroom, meaning to wash the dust off my hands and maybe my face if I can be bothered.

Then I see her.

Grace has a toothbrush in her mouth, pink lace panties dipping into her peachy ass, matching pink cowboy boots, and her hat cocked sideways on her head like sin itself. That's it. Nothing else. Her bare back is, to me, smooth and sun-kissed and utterly tempting.

My feet stop moving. My heart sure doesn't .

She catches my eyes in the mirror and keeps brushing, like everything about this is normal, and she hasn't just lit a fuse in every part of me that matters.

“Morning,” she mumbles around the toothbrush, foam clinging to the corner of her mouth.

I step in behind her without a word, half in a daze, and wrap my arms around her waist, dragging her to me so she can feel exactly how much trouble she's in. She's warm, soft, and smells of mint, and all I want is to press myself into every damn inch of her.

“You trying to kill me?” I murmur against her ear, watching her eyes in the mirror. “Pink lace, darlin'? Really?”

She smirks around her toothbrush, then spits into the sink, rinsing her mouth before tilting her head toward mine.

“Figured it was time I embraced the brand.”

I growl low in my throat, hands sliding up her ribs, palms flat and greedy. Her nipples pebble under my touch, and she leans into it, into me, like she's amped up for this as much as I am.

“Gonna make me late for breakfast,” I say, mouth brushing the curve of her shoulder, stubble scraping the curve of her breast. She shudders.

“Pancakes can wait.”

I kiss her neck and let one hand slip lower, sliding under the elastic, through soft curls and into her slickness. She's ready, and I've barely touched her. She gasps, gripping the counter, and arches her back, presenting her body like a dream.

“Jaxon…”

“Shh,” I whisper. “I got you, baby.”

It takes seconds to free my cock and even less time to pull her panties aside and drive into her tight, wet heat.

In the mirror, I watch as her lips part and her eyes widen.

I take her hands and place them on the cool glass, holding them there as I fuck into her in long slick strokes that makes us both groan.

Her body is bent over the vanity, stretched out and sexy, back arched and ass jiggling with every impact.

God, she's so damned perfect; my brain glitches looking at her.

“Fuck, Jaxon. Fuck… that's so hot,” she says as I grip her hips and pile into her over and over and over again.

But it's not enough. I want to kiss her and capture her moans, so I pull out and turn her slowly until she's backed against the tiled wall.

She pulls my shirt over my head, fingers fumbling for my cock. We don't speak. We don't have to.

I lift her with a groan, her thighs hooking around my waist, and I push inside an inch. Her breath stutters. Mine stops. For a second, the world narrows to our heat and heartbeats and the sound of her whispering my name like it's the only one that matters.

“Jaxon.”

“Fuck.” My legs shake with anticipation as she flutters around me, fitting like she always has: tight, hot, and so goddamn perfect I forget how to breathe. Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thud, lips parted on a moan that slams into me harder than any ranch work ever could.

“You want my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine, and I give her another inch.

“Yes, what, darlin'?”

“Yes, please.”

I give her another inch.

“Jaxon!” She wiggles her hips, but I hold firm as her pussy grips me tight enough to send stars sparkling across my vision.

“Count, Gracie. And I'll give you more. Four.”

“Four.”

I slide in further, and her lips part. They’re not red today, but still beautiful. “Five,” she groans.

“Faster,” I grunt.

“Six, seven.”

I give her more, my balls tightening, my spine tingling. I'm deep, but I want in deeper.

“Eight, nine… fuck Jaxon.”

I thrust hard until her eyes roll and her head drops against the tile, and the sounds she makes are so loud I have to cup her mouth with my hand before we bring the cavalry to the door.

“Ssshhh,” I whisper, withdrawing my hand so I can kiss her deep, forcing her jaw wide, sliding my tongue against hers in the rhythm of my cock, making up for all the days I missed. She grips my shoulders, nails digging in, pulling me closer and tighter.

My hands grip her softness, and even though I'm buried to the hilt, I want deeper. I grind harder, feeling her clench around me. In, and in, and in, and in, and fuck…

“Jaxon...” she breathes, as if it's a plea and a prayer all wrapped into one. “I missed you.”

I freeze for a second, that one sentence slicing through the last of my restraint.

“I missed you, too,” I whisper against her lips. “You have no idea.”

The tempo changes, becoming harsher, rougher, more desperate. She clings to me, panting, legs tight around my waist like she never wants to let go again.

“Tell me,” she says, breath catching. “Tell me I'm yours.”

I slam into her harder, holding her on the brink of insanity.

“You're ours,” I grit out. “You always were. I'm going to write myself inside you, Grace, so deep that nothing and no one will ever be able to erase it.”

She shatters then, her body trembling, her breath breaking, her nails scoring lines down my back. I follow, helpless to anything but the heat of her, the rush, the relief, the goddamn overwhelming truth of her.

When it's over, we stay there a minute, tangled and breathless. Her forehead rests against mine, both of us slick with sweat, hearts still trying to slow down.

She laughs then, soft and shaky. “Worth being late for pancakes.”

“It sure was,” a voice says from behind me .

Cody.

I can tell he's smiling before I turn, but when I do, his shit-eating grin is out in full force. “So, this is what we get when we finish chores early.”

“Only if you're good.”

I help her lower her legs to the ground, and she giggles into my neck, still breathless, a little stunned, and the sound of it rewires something in my chest. She's shaky as a new foal, still wearing her pink panties and her cute boots.

The hat fell off somewhere along the line, but she's still every cowboy's dream.

“You okay?” I murmur, brushing the sweat-damp hair back from her forehead.

She nods, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy but clear. “I'm good. Really good.”

I press a kiss to her shoulder, then her neck, then the dip behind her ear that always makes her shiver. “You got enough in you for Cody, too?”

“Sure do.”

I look between us at my dick that's coated with her arousal and her pouty pussy lips that are dripping my cum, and my softening cock perks up again.

“Fuck, that's hot,” Cody says, stalking across the room with his erection already in hand. “Bend over, Gracie. Let us see.”

She turns slowly, glancing at us over her shoulder before resting her hands on the vanity and bending at the waist, giving us both a perfect view of her leaking pussy.

“Fuck, Jaxon. That's a lot of jizz. You made her look like a cream puff.”

“It's it a creampie?” she asks.

“Maybe in the city,” Cody says, giving me a wink.

He slides his hands over Grace's ass until they span her waist, letting his cock notch at her messy entrance.

He's inside her in one thrust, groaning.

“Damn, Gracie. Your pussy feels so good.

I'm going to make you so messy; you're going to need a bath to get clean. ”

“Give it to me, cowboy,” she says, arching her spine.

Cody slaps her ass hard enough to make it jiggle, and she laughs, palming her breast.

I watch it all, stroking my dick, ready for more, glancing at the door and hoping no other cowboys stroll into this bathroom, hoping to get some. I know Grace belongs to all of us, but today, I'm feeling greedy.

“You want to lick Jaxon, sweetheart? Show him how much you love his big dick.”

“Yeah, Jaxon. You want more, baby?”

Oh fuck. Yeah, I do.

The feel of her lips running down my dick is toe-curling, and when I meet Cody's eyes over the top of her curvy body, I feel like I'm blinking my way out of a dream.

“She takes you so well,” Cody says. “She takes both of us so well.”

And it's true. This city girl knows how to rock a cowboy's world like no other woman we've ever known.

Cody's thrusts grow harder and faster, and Gracie groans around my dick when he slaps her ass again and comes with a growl.

“That's it, baby,” I tell her, stroking her hair from her face. “I'm so close.”

When I release the second time, it's in slow pulses I release over the throat and breasts. Cody turns her to kiss her, unbothered about where her mouth has been. “That was the best-damned breakfast I ever had,” he says, dipping her low like a nineteen-twenties film star.

I crowd them both, running my hand down her spine and leaning in for a kiss when Cody's done.

I cup her face and stare into her pretty eyes, dazed by pleasure and overflowing with warmth. “I used to think this kind of life… this kind of love was something other men found,” I say. “Not me.”

“You deserve everything,” she says, kissing me softly.

I look at her then, at all that strength and softness bundled into one brave woman. “You get it now,” I say. “ We'll never let you forget how special you are.”

She leans into me, forehead to chest, and I wrap my arms around her all over again. As if we're still holding together the cracks that we brought to this relationship.

“I want to remember everything. Every part of this.”

She pulls back, still wearing the sexy pink panties and the sassy boots, with Cody's handprint on her ass. Her hair is messy, her lips swollen, and her eyes bright.

“Damn, Gracie. You look like trouble.”

“I'm your problem now,” she grins.

“Damn right,” Cody mutters and kisses her one last time.