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She’s shit for customer service. I’m shit at being a customer. Match made in heaven, we are.
Bit—that’s what I’ve decided to call this pretty stick of dynamite because one, I think it’d piss her off and that sounds like twisted fun, and two, she seems full of sparks and danger—turns
There’s a saying about family, something about it giving you roots and wings. That’s what this right here does for me. I’ve always had roots—to this land, to our herd, to my family. But for a while, I had no wings. I was as landlocked as my cows are. Weighed down by Dad, by bills, by expectations.
The day Mom took her last breath, our whole family died too. She’d been the glue and we’d all been too young and stupid to notice. Until she was gone. Dad crumbled, but he didn’t go down easily. No, he crash landed, taking out as many innocent bystanders as possible. Mainly me.
I know most women wouldn’t be turned on by filth, preferring their men clean-cut and showered, probably wearing khakis or a suit. I am not most women, and work-earned dirt on a sexy man is like my kryptonite, instantly flooding my basement.
Toto, I’m not in Kansas anymore.
If she can guzzle a beer like that, throat open and swallowing reflexively, I know for damn sure she can do it with my cock stuffed down her throat, her nose buried against my belly. And that is a sight I desperately want to see.
He blinks blankly before his eyes go razor-sharp. I’m pinned in place like a bug, but I’m not a butterfly, pretty but helpless. I’m a goddamn hornet, so I stare right back.
I need clarity like I need my next breath. Fuck that. I need clarity like I need dick.
“And if we’re playing games of who saw whom first—I met you first, liked you first, wanted you first.”
Oh, the dirty ideas his words make me think of.
If you want your Cowboy, climb on and yee the hell outta his haw.
“You know he’s waiting on you. He follows you around like a damn labradoodle with sad puppy dog eyes, begging for treats. To be clear, you’re the treat.”
He’s safe, he’s easy, and he lets me walk all over him. None of those are things I want, for a right-now guy or a forever guy.
“You only have to scream out Brody. If you can get my whole name out, I’m not doing my job.”
I know who the commanding officer is in any room. It’s not by size. It’s not by age. It’s purely by presence. And she’s the fucking Commander in Chief here.
She doesn’t even have to try. Her power here is absolute. I want to be her one day.
“Apparently, engines are these magical, mystical things that can’t be understood if you have a vagina instead of a dick. The guys hadn’t liked it much when I told them that if I could find a G-spot, I sure as fuck could find a carburetor, but I doubted they could say the same thing. About either of those.”
a mechanic shouldn’t break down. It’s bad for business.
I make good cars great and fast cars faster.”
They say the best way to keep a secret is to tell no one. If you keep your own mouth shut, there’s never any risk of discovery.
“Never do that again, Shay. I don’t want Luke figuring out what a weirdo you are and bailing on you. We have a no take-backsies policy. You’re his problem, and it’s a done deal.”
I know you two look like Tom and Jerry, this big grump of a cat and this tiny mouse, but damned if she’s not leading you around by your tail.”
Disney just never showed the truth after the happily ever after-fade to black ending, the part where Cinderella bitches that Prince Charming left his socks on the floor, or where Beauty missed dinner again because her nose was buried in a book. Or most importantly, where Snow White dies and leaves behind her prince and a whole rag-tag group of pseudo-children who fucking need her.
She’s angry that I see her, know her truth. I thought that sharing that secret with me meant something, but right now, I can see that it’s the opposite. She shared it with me because I’m not important . . . not like her parents, her sister, not like Reed.
“One day, when you’re all alone and wishing for someone to take care of you the way you take care of everyone else, I want you to remember this second. The moment you shit on the one person who truly sees all of you and wants you for you, Erica Cole. No restrictions, no expectations, no cages. You are amazing, brilliant, beautiful . . . but none of that matters if you stay in other peoples’ bubbles. The worst part is that you . . . you let them keep you there. And that is a damn tragedy.
“Holding someone’s heart is a big responsibility, one you just showed him you can’t be trusted with. So yeah, apologize, but more importantly, be worthy and hope he gives you another shot.”
I mean that. I still think relationships are a ticking time bomb, waiting to destroy you when they inevitably end, but I get why everyone risks it now. Why, even if you know it’ll gut you eventually, it’s worth it to be with the one person who can make every minute mean something. Without them, there’s no risk, but it’s merely an existence, not life.
“You’re worth chasing, Brody. Worth caring for. Worth sharing with. Worth living every day to the fullest with.”
James jumps in. “You still give Sophie and me a hard time!” Mark growls, “Because you two are so loud the neighbors threatened to call the cops.”
I find myself missing that straightforward effortlessness of youth that we all lose as we grow up.
And when I go to sleep, I want to do it in his arms, preferably with his dick still inside me after we fuck each other stupid.
Shit. Fuck. Damn. This man is everything I never knew I wanted, everything I never knew I needed.
bragging after a win is unsportsmanlike and asshole-ish. I try to follow a mantra I heard once, ‘humble in victory, gracious in defeat’,
“I love when she’s bitchy and brash, putting everyone in their place because she knows best. I love when she’s soft and sweet, but only when she feels safe. I love when she talks about cars and her eyes light up with excitement over five more horsepower. I love how she sacrifices everything for the people she loves, even if it hurts her to do it. I love her heart, her soul, and even that mouth when she’s cussing worse than I do.”
“I think it’s time to see what she can do if she can live her wildest dreams. I think it’s time for her to fly.”
“You scared of Rix? Because you should be. She probably knows three different ways to slit your throat and hide the body.” He’s joking, but she’s already told me this one. “It’s five different ways. And I’m not scared of her because of that. I’m scared because she’s got my heart in her hands and that’s a scary position for a man to be in.”
“Last man standing.” He points his fork at each of the women at the table. “And that is not a challenge. If anything, I challenge you to let me live in peace. Me and my guitar.” Rookie mistake. He just painted a big ol’ target on his back.
