Saving the Rain (Crimson Ridge #4)

by Elliott Rose

My goddamn stepbrother.

YEEEEEEHAWWWWW BABY

Seeing my stepbrother for the first time in so many years has dredged up shit I’d rather forget from someplace mighty deep.

Getting paid to ride a horse, flash a smile, and talk shit? Too easy.

He shouldn’t have this much power over me. Not now that we’re both adults. Not after all this time. Then why am I stuck, boots cemented in place, while the back of my neck glows red hot, and I can’t stop looking at his tattooed forearms?

There wasn’t ever a world where me and Raine were going to get along.

He might have been slinging verbal barbs in my direction, but there’s something about his presence, seeing him up close, that keeps nagging in my brain.

Why did having Raine’s attention on me feel like a welcome thing? And more importantly, why the hell did it warm my blood, rather than causing it to boil?

This? When he pretends I don’t exist at all, it feels like a murky, sticky tar in my stomach.

I hate feeling as if I’m so much of a terrible thing in his world that he’d rather ignore my presence completely.

I yank the freshly lit cigarette straight out of the prick’s mouth and grind it under my heel with a snarl. This skinny little runt, a fucking wannabe buckaroo with pimples on his forehead, frowns at me. Mouth gaping wide, he stares at the ground, then back up to meet my scowl. “What the hell, man?” Balling my fists in an effort not to shove this twiggy-looking motherfucker out of the way, my grunt comes out gritty and forceful. “He’s got asthma, you shit for brains.”

oh you poor lovesick baby

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snaps. “Clearly, you are.”

To make it worse, the bit that keeps on leaping up to grab me and demand that I pay attention, whether I want it to or not . . . is the way my body reacted to the proximity of him.

There’s no good reason for Raine to be occupying as much real estate as he’s currently taking up in my mind.

I was taking notes on his ride so I could give him hell about details he needed to improve upon the next time I see him. I was watching to see if he’s bothered to hone his talent, or if he’s still fucking around like when he was younger. That’s all.

sure baby

This is a fucking joke. I don’t need to be popping random boners and having sudden urges to jerk off, all because of a guy I can’t stand being around.

Who fucking cares what Kayce Wilder does. I certainly don’t.

riiiiiight

All I want to do is sleep and sleep and then sleep some more.

We aren’t anything to each other.

Christ, what I don’t need to be doing is appreciating the way he looks in my clothes. He’s wearing my t-shirt, the one I gave him that day at the hospital, and I hate the sensation it kicks up in my stomach. I hate that my first thought that flutters in—unwanted and needing to fuck right off immediately—is that he looks good.

If I don’t hold him up, who else is gonna?

Fuck my miserable life; I’ve definitely got worse Daddy issues than I thought if seeing him wear his cap backward leaves me feeling a certain way.

Surely I need to pluck my eyeballs from my skull, because, hell no, I did not just look at him and feel butterflies.

Why do I want to know the textured glide of Raine’s fingertips mapping my muscles . . . his mouth going places on my body I’ve only ever explored with fumbling, awkward prods of my fingertips?

When I’m with Raine . . . he feels like the idea of getting on a roller coaster for the first time.

Kayce being in such a vulnerable sort of state makes me want to rush straight over there. I hate seeing him like this—I’m so goddamn sick of always feeling like I gotta scoop him up and that he’s about two seconds from crumbling beneath the weight of his own nonsense.

There’s no good reason for me to chase after him, not since he’s laid it all out now. And yet, my feet are moving.

He fits beneath me in a way that I shouldn’t even be goddamn acknowledging right now.

There’s no way I should still be here, not pressed up against my stepbrother. It’s so fucking wrong that we’re tangled together like this.

I hate him, and I don’t, all in the same breath. Because I think the thing I hate the most about him is that he won’t allow me in.

I fucking whimper.

i live for moments like this

“What a pretty thing you are when you blush for me,”

giggling and kicking my feet

“You should be staying the fuck away from me.” A dark noise vibrates from somewhere deep in my chest, and I lose it. I finally lose any sense of control. I dive against his lips.

“A pathetic little thing who wants to be fucked?”

Of course, he’s got a gorgeous dick to match his golden boy good looks.

I like seeing him just like this. Far too much.

Now, I can say with full certainty, I’ve never been kissed like it felt to have Raine’s mouth owning mine. Like I could melt into him, and he’d safeguard me, keeping me upright through every second our mouths collided. To have him rough and commanding, taking charge of the moment, was enough to steal my every shred of sanity.

Why did it feel so right with him?

“I had nowhere else to go.”

Yeah, he might be the rodeo star on the outside, but he melts every time my mouth connects with those soft little parts of him.

“Touch yourself and see just how much this turns you on,” he commands, and of course, my palm is there before he’s hardly even finished grinding out his words.

“I don’t have to do more than stuff your holes with my fingers, and you’re spraying cum. What kind of mess do you think you’ll make when I’m filling you properly? What kind of a noisy slut will you be for having my cock deep inside your tight little ass?”

Bet you’re blushing for me, aren’t you, pretty boy?

Cowboys don’t blush.

But they certainly do beg for my cock, oh so politely.

My next breath stalls halfway to my throat. There are texts there. From Raine. Every single one I’d ignored that night was from Raine. What I’m seeing before my eyes . . . none of it seems real. Even before I turned up on his doorstep, without me knowing, he’d been trying to get in contact. Raine had been checking on me.

“Look how you’re taking everything. Swallowing every inch. Such a good boy for me.”

Raine lifts his hat off his head, and settles it on mine.

I’m pretty sure there isn’t any part of Raine I can get enough of.

Cutting off his words with a deep kiss, one that I could so very easily get lost in. The kind of pleasurable hit of him that reaches straight down to my toes. Once I’ve temporarily satisfied my craving, I pull back and swipe my thumb over his wet bottom lip, giving him a stern look through the darkness. “You’re coming home with me tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a cowboy who absolutely, definitely, under no circumstances would ever blush . . . because that’s not manly.”