Sing for Me (The Langston Brothers Duet, #2)

by Brittany Ann

“Do you have any triggers when it comes to sex?”

“Don’t hold my face down,”

“You can say anything to me. You’re mad, you let me have it. You’ve done that a few times already, so don’t stop. You’ve got a problem, you voice it. You’ve got a question, you ask it. Nothing is off the table with me. You are safe with me. Under no circumstances, do you have to walk around eggshells with me.” She remained silent, so I dipped my head lower. “I’m a hot-headed, bull riding cowboy, beautiful. I’m gonna say stupid shit. I’m gonna do stupid shit. Someone crosses me, I got no issues handing them their ass. Someone crosses you, I got no issues with going to prison.”

“Been fighting majority of my life, Harmony,” I whispered. “Fighting for my life. Fighting for my right to be here. Fighting to prove myself to someone who’s not even on this fucking Earth anymore. Fighting my past. Fighting my demons—yeah, I got ‘em. Fighting the cowboys who want me hurt, gone, or just plain dead. Now, I have you, and darlin’, I’m fighting for you. I’ll never stop, you have my word on that.”

“You’re wearing my shirt.” “Yes,” s...

“No other woman has gotten to wear my shirts, Harm. Gave it to you for a reason. So don’t you dare think you have walk on eggshells around me...

“I’m gonna fuck these pretty tits, Harmony,”

“Gonna leave my mark on them.”

“Lie back and let me eat my breakfast, darlin’. That’s all you have to do.”

“That’s my good little whore,”

He pulled away, his chin glistening with my juices. “Taste like fucking heaven, did you know that?”

“Needy little thing, aren’t you, Harmony?”

“If you are going to beg, I want those blue eyes on me,” he purred.

“Right here, darlin’? That where you want my mouth?” “Mason…” “Say the words,” he growled. “Please put your mouth on my pussy,” I rasped. “That’s a good girl,” he whispered before adding another finger and dragging his tongue against my clit.

“Give me that sweetness.” When he latched on, I was there. “Mase! Oh, fuck! Oh, Mase!” He growled as he began to eat me like a man starved, addicted.

“You keep those eyes on me, Harmony,” he ordered, his voice ragged and thick with need. “Don’t you dare shut yourself off from me. Let me see you.”

“You gonna miss me, huh?” he taunted, gripping my jaw, dipping his lips down to mine. “You’ve plagued my thoughts—my entire sense of being from the moment I saw you, Harmony Green. You have no idea how much you consume me.”

“Let me tell you how this is going to work, baby,”

“We are going to talk every single fucking day.” He pulled out. “You are going to tell me about your dreams in the morning when I call you. You are going to tell me about your day when I call you in the evening.” Thrust. “Every night, you are going to Facetime me so I can see you—every fucking inch of you,” he growled, dipping his mouth to my ear. Thrust. “You’re going to touch my little pussy for me every single night like the good little whore you are. You’re going to come for me every single fucking night. Don’t give a fuck how tired you are—I’m gonna see my girl scream for me,” he purred. Thrust.

“If you think I’m going to go a single day without giving your body the pleasure it deserves, you’re out of your fucking mind,”

“Trust me, baby, I know. This cunt is squeezing my cock so tight, I can barely think.”

She looked up at me and whispered, “I want to feel good.” “Then roll on your back and let me do my job,” I ordered, my voice rough with raw need, the need to pleasure her, to make her feel so good that she’d forget everything else. “Hold the phone up high.” She did as I instructed and then waited for more. “Let me see those tits, baby.”

“Sleep well, Little Song,” I whispered, ready to hang up the phone. That didn’t happen. Because Harmony, my obsession, whispered, “I love you, Mason.”

“My advice, Cherry, is this: tell him. Tell him everything you can. A man like that has to know his woman’s pain.” “Why?” I croaked, embarrassment heating my cheeks and tears stinging my eyes. His features softened. “He’s gotta know, Cherry.” The tears began to fall, and I tore my eyes from him, my fingers squeezing my metal bottle. “If I tell him…he wouldn’t look at me the same.” “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve never met the man in person, but I could tell by his voice—that man loves you. Nothing will change that.” “You don’t know that,” I snapped, looking back at him.

You haven’t always been helpless, my sweet Mason.

my hat fell to the ground, landing next to the phone. Denver bought me that fucking hat. Pop never bought me a hat, but my fucking brother did.

“It means that in all the years I’ve known you, all the years I’ve watched you soar, riding beasts that shouldn’t be conquered, listening to the world chant your name, all you’ve done is fight! You fight yourself, you fight your managers, you fight the other riders. That’s all you know how to do, Mason! When the hell are you gonna learn to stop throwing punches and actually feel something besides pain in your split knuckles?”

“You’ve been fighting every day because as a boy, you couldn’t. If you did, he would’ve killed you!”

“The day my brother left to fight for our country—to protect strangers—Pop got drunk, went into the barn, and grabbed a brand—”

“I was asleep, Ed!” I yelled. “I was asleep, and he fucking branded me! Woke up in pain as he shouted ‘Now you can’t leave! Got the brand on you, son! You belong to Hallow Ranch.’” I twisted my torso to show him the scarred ‘H’ on my shoulder blade. “I begged, cried, shouted, fought…he didn’t take it off me…”

“You will tell me every single fucking thing. I don’t care how long it takes, how much you need to cry, scream, recover—whatever. You will remain in my arms, because, dammit, I need to touch you while you do this. Bare yourself to me, darlin’.”

“You call me ‘darlin’, and he called me ‘darling’,”

“You want that word out of my vocabulary?”

“When you call me that, I feel safe.”

Call him, my sweet Mase.

“Mason, once you know—once I tell you—” “Nothing will change!” I shouted, charging towards her. “My feelings for you will never change, Harmony! Who you are now, the amazing, strong woman I’ve—”

“Let me make one thing very clear to everyone in this room,” I said, my voice low as I pointed to my woman. “I would put a bullet in my mouth or purposefully loosen my grip on the bull rope so that fucker could kill me before I ever laid a hand on Harmony Green with the intention of bringing her pain.”

“Sweetheart, I may be a bull riding star. My name may be plastered all over the tabloids, my bank account may be full, but make no mistake: I’m a cowboy down to my fucking soul. Cowboys don’t play games when their women are involved. Not only has this asshole messed with my woman, but he’s also fucking with my family’s land. He will get neither,”

“Not at all. I’m Valerie Cross.” My woman—fuck, my woman—took Valerie’s hand in her free one, shaking it gently. “I’m Harmony Langston. Nice to meet you.”

“You boys got three seconds to peel your eyes off my wife before I rip them out with my fucking fingers and shove them down your throats,”

“Damn, Mason. How in the hell did you land a woman like this?” Jigs asked. It wasn’t a joke. He was being completely serious. “I try not to question God’s blessings, old man.” A large, warm hand landed on my lower back. “Sit, baby. Please.”

Nothing, sweet Mase.

Let them go, Mase. Let your demons out.

“The only other time I’ve found peace is with you—being inside you,” I informed her. “Been trying so fucking hard to be the gentleman you deserve, the kind of man you want.” “Don’t. Don’t try to…”

“Find your peace with me,”

“You’re my peace, Mase.”

“You don’t need to restrain yourself around me anymore.”

“I trust you,”

“You want me to unleash on you, huh?” I growled, pressing my body against hers. She nodded, and my control snapped.

“You want me to unleash on you, huh?” he growled, his fingers pressing into my flesh. My body hummed with excitement, a basic, raw need shooting through me, heading straight to my core. “I’m yours,” I rasped.