Breaking Brent Part 9

"You know what I'm talking about. I hurt your feelings that night, that last night, and instead of waiting around until things cooled off, you ran as fast and as hard as you could in a different direction. That way just happened to be Carter's."

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Brent could see her temper flaring. Her chest heaved, causing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to do the same. Her nostrils flared as her breath became choppy and erratic. He wondered how long it would take her to retaliate. He didn't have to wait long.

"I'm sorry I didn't dig a hole and bury myself away from the world long enough for you decide that you wanted to play with me again. I waited for things to cool off and for you to realize what an a.s.s you were being. Did you want me to wait forever? Was that what your pride needed, a little pick-me-up?" She advanced on him.

"You pushed me away," she said as she planted her hands on his chest and pushed his body. It wasn't a hard nudge, but he took a step back. "You pushed me out." She shoved at his shoulders this time. "You shut me out." She prodded again. "You shut me out of your life." She pushed him again. "You shut me out of your mind." She pushed and prodded him again and again. "And you shut me out of your heart."

Brent had had enough. He jerked the door of the tack room open and backed her into the small dark room. It smelt of leather, hay and Peyton-sugary and sweet.

It was his turn to push. He pressed her against a wall and anch.o.r.ed her body there with his and gripped her wrists with one of his hands just in case she decided to sink her nails into any part of his body.

His lips were a breath away from hers when he said in a low, husky voice, "I might have shut you out that night, but I never shut you out for good. You did that the minute you traded me in for my best friend."

He felt her breath hitch beneath her chest.

The movement caused her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to rub against the material of his s.h.i.+rt and jacket. Even through the thick double layer of material, he felt her nipples harden and pucker. He felt the weight of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s resting heavily on his chest. He felt everything. The swell of them, their firmness, their heat and their state of arousal.

"Is that what bothers you so bad? That it was Carter who took your place? Or does it bother you that I didn't shut my heart and my life down just because you didn't want me anymore? I'm sorry I didn't swear off all men and life in general until you decided you were ready to want me again." She moved to break their connection, but he wouldn't let her.

She struggled a little more, but her struggles were lacking in determination. Brent wondered if she really wanted him to let her go or if she only thought she did.

"I never stopped wanting you."

Her struggles stopped. Her breath halted as she brought her eyes to his, and Brent was sure she felt the reaction his body had to hers being pressed so close.

"Yes, you did. You ignored me. You wouldn't speak two words to me. You hated me. You still hate me." Her breath hitched as the last few words crossed her lips, and Brent hated that he had ever made her feel that way. In an instant, he realized there was no time like the present to show her how differently he actually felt.

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"Does it feel like I hate you?" He pressed his swollen d.i.c.k into her stomach and rolled his hips once, showing her how he really felt.

"You can't want me," she whispered. Brent felt her body move just an inch and was surprised that instead of pulling away from him she had actually brought her body closer.

"It appears I can." He loosened the grip he had on her wrists but he didn't let go of them. He let his fingers play against her soft, smooth flesh and was rewarded for his efforts when he saw the tiny chill b.u.mps form on her arms.

"You went home with Kelly last night."

"And you go home to Carter-when he's here." The thought of Carter and the fact that Peyton was his should have stopped Brent. He should let her go. He should step away, but he didn't. Instead, he did what he had been wanting to do for longer than he could remember-he kissed her. Really kissed her.

There was no playfulness attached to his kiss. It was deep and demanding. He was demanding that she let him kiss her. He was demanding that she respond. He was demanding that she remember what he had to every day of his life.

Brent's lips crushed into hers and he didn't wait for her to issue an invitation for his tongue to enter her mouth. When their tongues connected Peyton moaned. For a split second, Brent stalled their kiss, inched away from her face and looked into her eyes. They were wide and filled with confusion-confusion over what was taking place between them and so many other things. No way in h.e.l.l was he giving her the chance to dissect this situation and stop it before it ever got good. He took her lips again.

Three things happened at once. She moaned deep within her throat, arched her body into his and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her moves both shocked and thrilled him.

He raked his lips back and forth against her open mouth. He let his tongue trace the contours of her mouth. Back and forth he went-for more. He dipped his tongue into the sweet heat of her mouth, stroked hers and then retreated. Peyton wouldn't let him go completely. She drew his tongue back into her mouth and sucked gently on it.

Brent could feel her short, blunt nails digging into his shoulders and he wanted nothing more than to have them buried in the skin of his back as he plunged deep inside of her.

He broke their connection for only a moment to rid himself of the insufferable tuxedo jacket. In his haste his arms got caught up and his movements to remove himself from the trappings were less than graceful. He heard her laugh low in her throat and it was music to his ears. Finally, he got the d.a.m.ned thing off and threw it to the ground, not caring where it landed or what happened to it.

Brent placed his hands on the outside of her thighs and savored their smoothness as his fingers traveled upward. Her dressed bunched and moved with his searching hands. After what seemed like forever, he encountered a thin string on her hips. Hooking his thumb under it, he pulled the string down

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until the little piece of material was nothing more than a ball in his hand. Instead of tossing them to the ground, he placed them in his pocket and didn't give them another thought.

His only thoughts were of Peyton and how she felt in his arms and against his body.

His mouth found hers once more, stopping any protest she may have. She didn't feel like she had any.

Her fingers were moving at his waist and he realized they were working the b.u.t.ton and zipper of his pants.

He couldn't stop the moan that fell from his lips as her hands brushed his c.o.c.k. Brent lost what little bit of sanity he had left. He lifted Peyton until her thighs rested on either side of his waist. One of his hands braced on the wall behind them, supporting his body so it wouldn't crush hers. The other traveled from the inside of her thigh until it found the spot he'd spent many a night dreaming about.

She was wet. As wet as she had ever been for him. Needy fingers slipped between her slick folds until he found her c.l.i.t. He brushed once and then again and was pleased when he felt her push her body closer to his touch. He had to be inside of her.

He pushed one finger inside of her and found her snug, hot and dripping-just as he remembered.

Peyton clung to his body as he moved in and out of her. When he added a second finger to the first she captured his mouth and ate greedily at his lips.

He couldn't wait any longer. He had waited all these years and he wasn't about to wait a minute longer. He pulled his fingers from her body and she whimpered at the loss. His fingers were coated in her juice and he wanted nothing more than to taste the sweetness he knew was there. But that would have to wait. His body couldn't any longer.

He pulled his c.o.c.k from his pants and found that it was harder than it had been in forever. He moved between her legs so that the head rested at the entrance of her p.u.s.s.y. He pulled his face and his lips away from hers. A slight frown crossed her face and when she opened her eyes half-mast, Brent saw that they were glazed with desire.

"When I close my eyes I see your body against mine." The truth spilled from lips that caressed hers.

"I think sometimes I can still feel your legs wrapped around me. Just like you are now. All sweet and soft."

During his speech his lips grazed her jaw, her ear and just below the pulse that fluttered and raced.

With one thrust, he buried himself completely into her. He heard Peyton suck in a sharp breath. She was tight. So f.u.c.king tight. As tight as he remembered and as warm and wet. He moved just a fraction, pulling away and then connecting them fully again.

I don't want to stop. Ever. The thoughts raced through his mind as his blood raced through his veins and into his d.i.c.k. He was buried inside of her-he could go no further, but he wanted to. Before he did anything stupid, like speak what was on his mind, he sealed their lips.

Hers were electric. Soft and shocking, urging his to devour, divide and conquer. He parted her lips with his tongue and slipped into her heated mouth. She tasted better than he remembered. He wondered for a second if his memory of her taste in other places needed to be refreshed.

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"We can't do this." Breaking the kiss, she made her declaration. Once the words pa.s.sed her lips she nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. He grunted and then moaned as her tongue stroked the same spot that her teeth had attacked. His knees threatened to buckle.

"We can." His free hand worked to pull the dress down her arms, revealing those wine-stained nipples he craved.

Her nipples were hard.

Hard as ever.

They were pulled tight and they begged for attention. He rolled one between his finger and thumb and delighted in the fact that the bud puckered more.

"We shouldn't."

His mouth connected with her throat and she moved her head to allow him better access. He trailed his tongue down the column of her throat. He kept his thrusts even, slow and deep. He stopped his journey just before he got to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and rea.s.sured her. "We should."

"We need to stop."

He wanted to tease and stroke her nipples with his tongue before taking them into his mouth, but he couldn't wait. Her mouth was making excuses her body didn't need. He growled low in his throat and drew one of the hard peaks between his lips into the inferno of his mouth. He broke their connection for only a moment to ask, "Do you want me to stop?"

He paused for a second and stared at her face. Dreamy, pa.s.sion-filled eyes stared back at him. Her chest heaved, making the crest of her nipple brush against his lips. He took the other in his mouth and sucked it deep. He watched her head fall back against the wooden wall and felt her body grind against his.

That told him all he needed to know. She didn't want him to stop. He just needed her to say it. He needed to know she needed what he needed.

"No." That one single word made what little blood he had left in his body rush to his c.o.c.k. It throbbed deep inside her p.u.s.s.y and he felt Peyton clench around him-it was his undoing.

"Good. I couldn't if I wanted to." Brent's mouth captured hers. He had intended to proceed with caution and seduction. Those intentions were shot to h.e.l.l when he felt her take control of his kiss.

He grasped her waist and held her in place as his body rocked into hers. His hips bucked faster and harder, f.u.c.king her as he always had-deep, hard and fast. One of the questions he'd constantly wondered about was answered. Peyton still wanted it the same way she always had. The harder the better. The faster the better. The deeper the better. Just like Brent liked it.

She was wild in his arms. He savored her. He etched every moan, ever pant and every gasp she murmured against his mouth into his memory.

He noticed how her breathing had quickened and how her p.u.s.s.y clenched around him and knew she was close. He wanted her to come. He wanted to make her come. He wanted her to remember-remember

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how good they had been together. He wanted her to know how good they were together now and how much better it could get.

He reached around, grasped her perfect a.s.s and tilted her just a bit so she could feel the full effect of him inside of her. She moaned as he settled his full length within her.

Their lips had been locked this entire time and Brent loved it. But he wanted to watch her. He wanted to watch her breath catch in her throat and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s heave just before she came around him. Brent wanted her to see who was f.u.c.king her and he wanted her to remember who had brought this o.r.g.a.s.m from her body.

"Look at me," he commanded. She complied. Her eyes drifted slowly open, and when they centered on his he thrust once more-deep and hard inside her.

That was all it took. Peyton came in a flood around his c.o.c.k. The added heat and moisture brought about Brent's own o.r.g.a.s.m.

His hips rocketed against hers, plunging his d.i.c.k deeper into her incredible heat. Then his body and his world exploded. His legs quivered and his hips jerked once more against her before he emptied himself inside of her.

He dropped his head forward and let it rest against the cool texture of the wooden wall. His release mixed with Peyton's juices kept him hard deep within her. He could have stayed like this forever-her wrapped around him, covered in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

He would have done just that if the door of the tack room hadn't been flung open, letting the evening sun drift inside.

Two seconds later, he felt a murderous rage fill his body and stifle the confines of the small room.

Peyton had turned her head and Brent could see that her eyes were closed tightly.

He wondered if she thought she didn't see who was standing at the door, they wouldn't see her.

Brent looked toward the intruder braced against the doorway smiling sheepishly with one of his hands covering his eyes. Nick Kiel's face was flushed in a blush and Brent could see that he was in fact blocking the entire scene from his sight instead of peeking in between his fingers.

At that moment, Brent was thinking of the best place on the Kiel ranch to bury the young man's body.

"I hate to interrupt, but-"

"But what?" Brent growled. This was a little awkward, but it could have been worse. At least it was Nick standing there and not someone else like Chase or Jason or, heaven forbid, Hayden. At least Nick had the good sense to cover his eyes. He could have given a fellow a little notice though.

"Chase and Willa are fixin' to leave and Mama wanted me to find you."

"I'll be there in just a minute. Now get."

"Just a thought," he hesitated.

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