her, but I need to kiss her to celebrate. I need to feel her . . . under me, around me, owning me, and letting me claim her.
The kiss is sweet, our lips smacking as we smile against one another. But as always, it turns heated quickly.
“Fuck, sweetheart, flip over. Let me inside.”
She moves, following my order. Kneeling with her arms on the back of the couch, I stand behind her, glad the bus won’t move for a few hours while the crew breaks down the stage equipment. I run my hands down her back, and she arches for me, her bucking hips telling me how much she wants my cock.
“Tell me, Willow. You ready for me?”
“Always,” she gasps.
“What do you want?”
“Fill me.” She knows that’s not enough, not by a mile. I squeeze her hips, denting the supple flesh there, and she groans. “Fuck me.”
Shit. I lose control when she says anything slightly filthy, and she knows it, uses that knowledge to push me to the edge of sanity. I know what she wants too.
“I’m gonna fuck you, Willow, fill this sweet pussy with my cock, rub that little clit, and make you come for me. Over and over. I’ll decide when you’re done coming because this pussy is mine. You are mine.”
The words meant to drive her wild affect us both. When I push into her, she’s slick and her body gives for me easily. “Yes,” she groans.
I grunt in bliss. “How do you feel like heaven every time?” I murmur, lost in the sensation of her pussy gripping me tightly.
Though I mean to fuck her hard and fast, I can’t do it right now. I need her slow and tender. My Willow, my girl, the mother of our child.
I don’t know how I got so lucky. I’m just a rough country asshole, but this sweet woman saw something in me worth taking a chance on, and I’m so thankful. Every day, I show her how much I love her. I might not have the words, but I show her every way I can.
Chasing down my dream so I can give you yours.
The proof of a man is in his woman’s eyes.
Storm for me, shine for me, show your soul for me.
And I’ll dig down deep to get mine so you can have yours.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the conclusion to the Tannen Boys and the great cast of characters in this world! It’s sad to say goodbye, they will forever have a place in my heart… and hopefully in yours!
Excerpt: Dirty Talk
Katrina
“Checkmate, bitch,” I exclaim as I do a victory dance that’s comprised of fist pumps and ass wiggles in my chair while my best friend Elise laughs at me. I turn in my seat and start doing a little half-stepping Rockettes dance. “Can-can, I just kicked some can-can, I so am the wo-man, and I rule this place!”
Elise does a little finger dance herself, cheering along with me.
“You go, girl. Winner, winner, chicken dinner. Now let’s eat!”
I laugh with her, joyful in celebrating my new promotion at work, regardless of the dirty looks the snooty ladies at the next table are shooting our way.
I get their looks. I mean, we are in the best restaurant in the city. While East Robinsville isn’t New York or Miami, we’re more of a Northeastern suburb of . . . well, everything in between. This just isn’t the sort of restaurant where five-foot-two-inch women in work clothes go shaking their ass while chanting something akin to a high school cheer.
But right now, I give exactly zero fucks.
“Damn right, we can eat! I’m the youngest person in the company to ever be promoted to Senior Developer and the first woman at that level. Glass ceiling? Boom, busting through! Boys’ club? Infiltrated.”
I mime like I’m sneaking in, shoulders hunched and hands pressed tightly in front of me before splaying my arms wide with a huge grin.
“Before they know it, I’m gonna have that boys’ club watching chick flicks and the whole damn office is going to be painted pink!”
Elise snorts, shaking her head again. “I still don’t have a fucking clue what you actually do, but even I understand the words promotion and raise. So huge congrats, honey.”
She’s right, no one really understands when I talk about my job. My brain has a tendency to talk in streams of binary zeroes and ones that make perfect sense to me, but not so much to the average person. When I