Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy #2) - Vanessa Vale Page 0,19

my dick wasn’t an even exchange. “A connection.”

Her head moved back and forth, continuing to deny my words. I loved the way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her skin flushed. “No. No! It’s too painful. I won’t get close.”

The left side of her clit seemed to be more sensitive, so I focused my attentions there. Slowed my thumb to brush over just that small point. I ached for her, to hear the truth of her feelings, to know she felt she had to debase herself to the point of fucking a guy like Larry just to feel good.

“Who hurt you?”

A tear slid down her cheek. Shit. I’d found the problem, but it wasn’t something I could fix. She didn’t get a flat tire or a reprimand from her boss. She was upset about the past, something bigger than a bad day.

“Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll let you come.”

She shifted her hips, starting to take what she wanted, to move into the pleasure, and all I did was touch her through her panties. “My… my family.”

I wanted to stop, to hear what they’d done, but I couldn’t deny her the release she craved. I worked her with my thumb until her nails dug into my shoulders, until her head fell back, her long hair dangled down her back, her neck vulnerable and exposed.

Fuck, she was gorgeous, and I wanted to watch her come more than anything else in my life. “Come, princess.”

She did, and I felt her thighs quiver as they pressed into mine, watched her breasts rise and fall beneath her blouse as she cried out her release, felt her panties become wet from a flood of her desire. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and that unsettled me. I’d never been affected like this before, and I’d only touched her over her panties, and my dick was tucked away—painfully—in my jeans. How had something so… so high school seemed like something new?

She was as broken as me. Money and privilege, opportunity even, didn’t keep someone from bad shit. The night before she’d mentioned having a shitty family, and whatever happened between them cut her deep. Some people drank, some did drugs. Some did reckless shit like skydiving to ease the pain. It seemed Harper lost herself in meaningless sex.

She was done with that. Larry was the last loser she pulled into a stairwell to make herself feel better.

I continued to stroke her until the last bits of her pleasure ebbed. Her eyes opened, met mine. Instead of a sated smile, her eyes widened as if she just realized what she’d done, and then she crumbled. She started to cry. Her hands covered her face as she straddled me and sobbed. For a moment, I was frozen, completely surprised by the swift change, but I should have known.

She’d wanted a release, to come and feel better. Larry would have given it to her, but I doubted she’d have felt safe enough to let go completely. What she probably hadn’t even realized was that she’d needed to cry, and Larry wouldn’t have been able to give her that. I had. Because she trusted me, felt protected enough to let down every one of those damn walls. I felt humbled and in trouble. This woman was going to make me think things I could never have.

7

HARPER

This hadn’t gone as I’d expected. I was sitting in Reed’s lap crying, my skirt all but bunched about my waist.

I didn’t cry. There hadn’t been any tears left from two years ago. I’d thought they were all gone, but no. Somehow Reed—god, the one man I never expected—turned me into a damn faucet. All because he’d refused to fuck me.

I had no idea how long I cried. Minutes? Hours? The entire time, he just sat there and rubbed my back, my cheek pressed into his chest. He was warm, his big hands comforting, and I’d felt… protected. He’d allowed me to let my guard down, and he’d seen me at my worst. I could only imagine what he thought of me.

I sat up quickly, almost bumping his chin doing so. With my fingers, I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I was sure my mascara stained them. God, I probably looked a mess. “I’m sorry. I… I don’t usually do that.”

“No, I didn’t think you did,” he replied quietly.

I dared a peek at him, and I was surprised. He wasn’t revolted or even bored. He looked concerned. It