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

by Brittany Ann

To the broken ones who feel unworthy of love. To the damaged ones. You are worthy of love, regardless of your scars. Happiness will find you in the healing. Cherish it.

“You are stronger than your trauma. You are braver than your fears.

She stared at me for a moment. “What do you want?” “You.” Just you, darlin’.

“You’re very direct, Mr. Lang—” “Little Song, I will spank that ass if you call me Mr. Langston again,” I growled.

That was the thing about healing and fighting your demons: it hurt like a motherfucker. They don’t call them growing pains for nothing.

“I’m not going to push you, Little Song, but you need to know you’re safe with me.” You are safe with me. You are safe with me. You are safe with me. One, two, three. One, two, three. Red, blue, green. Red, blue, green.

“You a woman who likes trouble, Little Song?” “Only your kind of trouble, Mason,” she whispered back immediately.

“You don’t know me,” I whispered, my voice shaking. His eyes softened, but not much. “I want to know you. I want to know the passions and secrets behind those mesmerizing blue eyes. I want to know everything that makes you smile. I brought you tulips because I saw how happy they made you at the Farmer’s Market. I stood in the shadows and watched your beautiful face somehow become even more stunning as you smiled. My eyes want to see that smile every fucking chance I can get. I want to know what makes you laugh; I want to drown in the sound of it. Hell, baby, I want to be the reason,” he admitted, his voice rough.

“I want to know the name of the mother fucker who hurt my little song, who made her afraid to sing.”

“Define this,” I requested, my voice raspier than usual. His eyes nostrils flared again, as he unfolded his arms, and came back to me slowly, closing the distance between us. “This being the strong pull we both have to each other and don’t try to bullshit me like you did at the clinic. You feel this, Harm. You do, and so do I. This would consist of me going off to ride bulls and coming back here to you. This would be, instead of knocking on your door and taking the shit into the kitchen, I would press you against the nearest wall and kiss you until you were dripping for me as a hello. This would be, eventually, baby, you in my bed, taking my cock, coming on my cock, and loving every fucking second of it. This would be me taking you out and showing you off to every unlucky motherfucker who wishes they were me. This would be me meeting your friends and family. Now, I only have one friend—Eddie—and he is a fucking nut. I don’t talk to my family and never will again. So whatever holiday shit we gotta work out, we will go to yours, because mine isn’t a fucking option.”

“You needed me, and I came, baby. I’ll always come. Don’t give a fuck who I gotta go through. You call, I come.”

“I don’t want to be controlled,” I whispered. “You’re free with me. You just gotta trust me,” Mason promised. “My sweet girl called me, something in her voice told me something was wrong, and I came. Didn’t think anything of it. Just needed to get to you.”

“You gonna let me take care of you?” he shot back, his jaw tightening again. I looked down to our feet, feeling like a fool. “I don’t know if I’m even worth the trouble,” I admitted, my tears falling to the concrete. “Harmony Green, you are worth every ounce of trouble you throw my way.”

“I’m a cowboy, and we protect our own. You are mine. Therefore, I protect you. Simple as that. Don’t give a fuck who I’m protecting you from; if they hurt you, they deal with me. When I said you get all of me, you get all of me, including the cowboy. It’s who I am, Harm. Down to the bone,” he said, his voice fierce.

“I’m poison to cowboys, Mason.” He shook his head again, his throat bobbing. “How can you be poison when you’re my cure?” he asked.

Her features softened. “I forgive you.” “Get used to saying those words. This isn’t the last time I’ll piss you off. That’s the cowboy in me. Cowboys piss off women.” “Is that y’all’s moto or something?” she asked, teasing me. My lips twitched, wanting to give her my real smile, but I settled for sarcasm. “Haven’t been to a monthly meeting in a few years, so I’m unaware if they adopted a slogan or not.”

A person having darkness and pain in their past doesn’t make them unworthy of happiness.

“Rub your finger in a circle over it, baby. Make yourself feel good. My good little song deserves to come,” he instructed.

“My little song, singing for me,” he growled. “She is going to come for me, right on my fingers. Move your hips, Harm. Fuck my hand like good girl.”

A broken artist and a broken cowboy, lost in a storm we never wanted to end.

“Oh, God!” A dark chuckle came from him as his rough hands snaked under my ass, his fingers digging into my cheeks as he lifted my hips. “God ain’t here, baby. If you wanted God, you should’ve stayed away from cowboys,” he ground out as he snapped his hips again, pulling out of me and thrusting back in. “Ironic, seeing as how your wet little pussy is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever fucking felt.”

“My good little whore gonna come for me already? Huh? She gonna soak my cock?”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. This tight pussy is gripping me so hard, not wanting me to leave.”

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

“You’re mine. You’ve been mine. You’ll always be mine. I protect what’s mine.”

“Come for me like the whore you are, darlin’. Be a good girl so I can fill you up.”

“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.”

“Such a good little whore for me,” he whispered. A moan left me, and he groaned deeply in approval. “You missed your cowboy’s dick, darlin’?”

“That’s it. Such a good little wife, taking her husband’s cock so well.”

“Loved you the second I saw you and every second after that, Little Song.”

Accept the past for what it is, but remember that it doesn’t define you.

Mason just punched Denver an hour ago. Was this how cowboys made amends?

“Sammy is mine, you hear me? He doesn’t get her. That’s my daughter. If somehow, a cowboy like me gets into heaven, that little girl is mine. Fuck, I love her so much.”