Page 27 of The Back Forty (Whitewood Creek Farm #5)

Dani squeals, laughing as her shirt rides up in the fall backwards, revealing bare hips and her smooth pussy. No panties. Just as I suspected.?

I groan, hungry all over again for her. “No underwear?”

“I was too hot after what we did last night.”

I chuckle, crawling up between her legs, spreading her open for me. “Fuck, Dani,” I mutter. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

She squirms under my gaze, her cunt glistening, flushed and already wet. I lower my head and slide my tongue along her seam, tasting her slowly, savoring the heat, salt and sweetness that’s uniquely her.

“You always wake up this wet?”

“Mm,” she moans, her hands in my hair already. “My nickname is Heat Warmer Pussy.”

I raise a brow, and she laughs breathlessly.

“Really? We’ve lost the ability to tease each other now?”

“I mean, having a built-in heater between your legs sounds pretty cozy but I'm not happy thinking about who could have nicknamed you that.”

She giggles until I pinch her clit between my fingers and roll it, turning her laughter into a hiss.

“Shit,” she pants. “I just made that up. A little warning next time?”

“I’m thinking about how it’d feel to have my face buried in here during the winter with my own heat warmer.”

Her cheeks flush as she looks up at me curiously, but I’m already lowering my face again, drawing that swollen clit into my mouth and sucking down.

I’ve only been with her once, but I already know that her clit is the key. Sure, I want to bury my tongue deep and taste all her arousal, but this? This is what makes her fall apart. And I want her falling apart on my face this morning.

So, I focus. I circle her clit with my tongue, lap at it, flick it just the way she likes until her thighs are clamping tightly around my head and her hips start to roll against my mustache.

“Yes,” she gasps. “Just like that… oh my god… your mustache and beard too. Give me that, Lawson—”

I smirk into her, rub my mustache against her bundle of nerves, and that does it.

Her thighs start to shake, and her fingers press harder into my scalp.

Then I force a hand flat against the top of her pelvis and thrust two fingers inside her, hard and deep, curling them until she cries out in pleasure.

“Yes! Fuck, yes, Lawson!”

She shatters with my name on her lips. Her pussy pulses around my fingers, soaking my hand, and I swear I could come again just from watching her lose it like this so easily. She says I’m easy to please, but I’m not unless it’s her. And I’m starting to think it’s the same for her with me.

When she finally comes down, chest heaving, face flushed, she sits up slowly. Her lips are red and slick, her eyes glazed.

“Wow,” she says.

“Yeah,” I grin, wiping my mouth and then trailing wet kisses up her thighs and across her stomach. “Do you still think your vibrator’s better?

She hesitates like she doesn’t want to admit the truth, but I know. And I know she knows. And one thing I won’t let her do is deny it. But I change the subject anyways because I don't want her overthinking shit that doesn't matter right now. I don't need an ego stroke, but I do need her.

“Want to clean up together?”

“Together?” she echoes, like she doesn’t get it.

Like she doesn’t know I’ll never want to shower without her again now that I've tasted her.

Maybe I'm moving too fast, but I thought we were on the same page. I thought after last night and this morning she’d get it now.

That I want to burn the HR manual and all my ridiculous, self-imposed, fucking rules and lose myself inside her.

It’s Sunday. The last day of the state fair.

We should be helping out with the Marshall family booths’ this morning, but we’ve still got time to get over there.

I made sure of that. But right now? I’m hard again, and I still haven’t seen her tits, haven’t kissed her lips, haven’t slid my cock inside her.

And there’s no way in hell I’m starting my day without her pretty nipples in my mouth.

“Yeah. A shower—” But before I can finish my sentence, there’s a knock at the front door that’s right below us. We both freeze in place.

“Who is that?” Dani hisses, her voice tight, brown eyes wide and panicked.

“I have no idea.”

I grab my sweatpants off the floor, tug them on over skin still flushed and twitching from the high she just wrung out of me.

No shirt. No time. No warning. No one just shows up out here unless they’re blood or stupid.

My house sits at the complete back of the property for a reason because I don’t like being bothered when I’m home.

I assume it’s Colt or Cash, probably looking for help loading equipment for the last day of the fair. But when I open the door without bothering to check the peephole, I instantly regret it.

This was a big fucking mistake.

“Whoa, good morning, Lawson,” Catalina, Dani's older sister says, her voice bright with a big, wide smile I've never seen her wear before.

She’s standing there in a perfectly pressed linen jumpsuit and designer sandals, her sunglasses pushed up into her thick, brown curls. Her gaze drags slowly down my bare chest, lingering far too long there before dropping lower—to the imprint that I know is still visible through my sweats.

I might not be as hard as I was a few seconds ago with Dani’s pussy coming on my face, but I’m still sporting a slightly stiff cock. I resist the urge to adjust myself and draw more attention to what she's looking at.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she adds with a smirk that makes it clear she’s not sorry at all. And then her eyes catch on something behind me. Or someone.

Dani.

And just like that, the teasing glint in Catalina’s expression hardens.

Her mouth flattens. Her jaw flexes. I can’t tell what the look is that she's giving her sister—disgust? Disappointment? A mean kind of pity? Whatever it is, it’s sharp, and it’s aimed directly at Dani like a dagger to the chest. I can feel her stiffen beside me even though she isn't moving.

I shift, instinct kicking in, wanting to step in front of her. Shield her. Block the blow I don’t fully understand but yet feel deeply in my gut.

“Hey, sis,” Dani says. Her voice sounds scratchy and high pitched like she's getting over a cold, and I can tell its nerves that are coursing through her now.

She runs a shaky hand through her hair and tries to summon some version of calm, but it’s no use. The air’s already turned ice cold and the flush on Dani’s chest plus the way that she’s dressed screams just been fucked to even the least observant person.

Catalina doesn’t respond right away. Just gives her a long, unreadable look before blinking like she’s trying to wake herself up from a bad dream. Then I notice a car in the driveway. Isla’s behind the wheel, offering a nervous little wave out the window and mouthing sorry in our direction.

“Hey, Lawson!” she calls out cheerfully. “Catalina just wanted to say goodbye to Dani before I take her to the airport.”

“You’re headed back to California already?” Dani asks, stepping out from behind me, even though she looks like she’d rather crawl back into the floorboards.

Catalina nods. “Yeah. Just a few days early.” There’s a clipped edge to it. No explanation. No apology.

Dani moves in for a hug, but the thing that happens between them is not a hug.

It’s two magnets trying to touch the same pole.

They’re stiff and awkward, more space than connection.

I’ve seen warmer greetings between two strangers in town, and it makes me wonder if that's how they've been their whole lives.

When they separate, Catalina’s gaze swings back to me.

“So, this…” she says, gesturing vaguely between the two of us.

Dani starts to respond, fast and flustered. “It’s not what it looks like.”

But it is what it looks like. Dani’s lips are swollen, her shirt’s rumpled, and I probably still smell like her pussy. Fuck, I hope I do.

I want to step in and say exactly that. Say it was the best fucking morning I’ve had in years, actually ever, because I got to wake up and taste her sister, and that if Catalina had shown up two minutes earlier, she’d have caught Dani gasping my name with my mouth buried between her legs eating the sweetest pussy I can't wait to be inside.

But I don’t. Because Dani looks like she might bolt if I breathe wrong and that guts me because that means we're nowhere close to being on the same page about what just happened upstairs.

And then Catalina hits her with another blow. “What about Elijah? Did you learn nothing ?” she hisses.

Dani stiffens like she’s been slapped. Her shoulders draw in and her chin trembles. I have no fucking clue who Elijah is to Dani or what he did, but I can tell by the way her body reacts that he’s a wound and her sister just jammed a thumb in it and twisted mercilessly.

So, I say the only thing that feels halfway helpful, even if I don’t really know why. “Don’t worry. I’m nothing like Elijah.”

Catalina’s eyes narrow and her brows jump as she turns to me. “She told you about Elijah?”

Dani’s face whips toward mine, panic flaring across it like a wildfire.

Shit.

I just threw gasoline on something I don’t understand. But I can’t walk it back now, so I lean in harder, wrap my arm around Dani's waist, pull her flush to my side like she belongs there. Like we are something, even if it seems like she doesn't want to admit it.

“Of course she did,” I lie smoothly. “We tell each other everything.”

I’m hoping it’ll help her. Hoping she’ll see I’m trying to have her back and defend her honor, even if I just put her on blast. And for a second, it seems to work. Her eyes soften when she looks at me. Her fingers curl around my wrist, but it only lasts a beat.

“It’s not the same, sis,” Dani says, her voice quieter now. Pleading.

Catalina’s expression doesn’t budge. “Well, when you end up in the ER again from a heart attack, don’t fly out to California and expect me to help because I’ll be saying I told you so .

You survive the first one? That’s lucky.

Second time? You’re just being stupid and reckless.

” Her voice sharpens, low and mean. “Just remember that.”

And then she turns and stalks back toward the car. Isla throws us a helpless wave and shrug before pulling away down the long, dirt road that stretches toward the edge of the property. Finally, both of them disappear behind a cloud of red dust and pine shadows.

The silence that follows feels nuclear as we both watch the empty road. I release my hold on her hip slowly and turn to face her, heart thumping with questions I don’t even know how to ask.

“So…?”

But she doesn’t meet my gaze. Just puts up a hand, warding me off. “Please,” she whispers. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Dani, come on. What the hell just happened? Who the fuck is Elijah? What was Catalina talking about, a heart attack?” I tug at the back of my neck as she puts even more space between us. She turns away from me like the questions physically hurt to hear.

“I can’t do this right now,” she says again, and then she’s walking away—no, running away—toward the stairs. She disappears into the hallway, and a second later, the slam of her bedroom door echoes down the hall like a gunshot.

And then it’s just me. Still shirtless. Still half-hard. Still smelling like her and completely lost by what just happened with the woman I thought I knew so well.

She needs space. I can tell that much. But all I can think, standing here with the weight of whatever the hell just happened pressing down on my chest, is one thing:

What the fuck is happening?