Breaking Brent Part 3

Chapter Two.

Brent relaxed against the pillows of the bed and watched as Kelly knelt between his legs and worked to release the buckle on his belt. Kelly was a knockout-all blonde and tan with blue eyes and a figure that could make a man hard from across the room. He should have been more excited about the events yet to come.

He closed his eyes for only a minute and tried to clear his brain.

He shouldn't be here.

He should have stayed at the bar instead of letting Kelly, and her figure, talk him into coming home with her. The beer, his d.i.c.k and the fact that he hadn't been laid in a month of Sundays were controlling his current actions. The sound of his zipper sliding down made his eyes open and focus on what was happening between his thighs.

Kelly and her big blue eyes were taking in every inch of his rigid d.i.c.k. Evidently, she liked what he had to offer. Brent watched as her tongue darted across her cherry red glossed lips before it bathed his c.o.c.k in one long swipe. It felt good, but it should have felt great. He hadn't felt great in a long time. s.h.i.t, he thought. Here he was getting a b.l.o.w.j.o.b that he didn't have to work hard to receive, and all he could think about was something else. Not something else. Someone else.

"Do you like that?" The question was asked a split second before Kelly took his entire length into her mouth. The breath in Brent's lungs released with a hiss. He couldn't stop the response from his body. His heart began to race, his b.a.l.l.s became tight beneath her teasing fingers and his d.i.c.k throbbed for more of her tongue.

He watched as Kelly and her mouth worked on his c.o.c.k. She had a perfect rhythm. She would take him deep and then deeper and then stop to lick the pre-come from the slit at the top. Each time she got a taste of him she would moan. The moan vibrated the endless nerves that ran the entire length of his shaft.

The tips of her short blond hair caressed his thighs and all Brent could think was how he wished her hair were a different color-a deeper color.

When the image flashed before his eyes he let his head drop back and his eyes close. He accepted Kelly's tongue and her wet mouth with pleasure, but it was someone else's face and body he saw in his mind.

Dark eyes were looking up at him instead of blue ones, and when she took him into her throat he could hear the softest, sweetest moan a man could ever hear echo in his ears. Her voice crept into his dreams, into his fantasies and into bed with him and whomever he was there with.

Behind his closed eyes and inside his mind, Brent could see Peyton's small hands with her elegant fingers grasping him, cupping him, stroking him and making him burn with nothing more than her touch.

Her mouth was like the sweetest fire and her p.u.s.s.y was the stuff dreams were made of. At least they were according to his memories. Endless questions raced though his mind. Did she still like being taken by surprise? Was she still as playful as she was demanding? Did her fiance know she loved being taken from behind? Had he taken her as Brent had taken her?

Kelly pulled him back to reality when she climbed on top of him. Sometime during his daydreaming she had slid a condom on him and had shed the rest of her clothes. She didn't seem upset by his lack of attention or partic.i.p.ation.

Feeling like a heel and like an a.s.s to boot, he made his mind behave and put his focus where it belonged-on Kelly.

Brent helped her remove his T-shirt and pushed his jeans farther down his legs. With Kelly astride him, he took his hard d.i.c.k in his hand, pumped it a time or two and ran it in between her wet p.u.s.s.y lips.

She moaned. He didn't.

In sync with one another, Brent arched upward and Kelly sank down. With one move he was thrust fully inside her. He took her hips in his hands and showed her how he liked to be ridden. Kelly had other ideas. She took Brent's hands and placed them on her overly large b.r.e.a.s.t.s and set her own pace.

He had to admit-Kelly knew how to ride. She moved up and down and then back and forth. Each move milked his thick c.o.c.k just a little more. She would sink down completely on him and then grind her pelvis against his. The motion made Brent's b.a.l.l.s draw up and beg for release.

Kelly let her head fall back as she rode his body and hers closer to o.r.g.a.s.m, and Brent did the same.

He knew better than to close his eyes, but he couldn't stop himself. The visions. .h.i.t his system like a lightning bolt.

Dark hair, a perfect mix of brunette and blond with coppery streaks, created a curtain across her body and down her back, hiding her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and nipples from him. His hands found what he was looking for and two of the most perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s topped with wine-stained nipples, were resting in his palms. He molded them, shaped them and made them his.

Her dark, honey skin glistened and glowed under his gaze. Shapely legs hugged his body and her flared hips rocked back and forth in an unraveling cadence. And she was hot. So hot she could burn a man alive. She was tight and wet and a man could count himself lucky to have the chance to thrust himself into her. As the fantasies progressed, so did his desire.

23.

Brent gripped her hips and his fingertips caressed her round bottom. He cupped the flesh in his hands and increased both of their movements. He worked her c.l.i.t against his body and the action brought choppy gasps from her throat. She was close and so was he.

It was a mistake to open his eyes. He blinked a few times and saw that instead of the G.o.ddess with the glowing skin riding his d.i.c.k like there was no tomorrow, Kelly had taken her place. Brent's hands were on her hips. His fingertips were gripping her a.s.s. Kelly's own hands were busy ma.s.saging her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and plucking and pulling at her light pink nipples.

She looked down at him and her eyes were glazed with want. Brent clenched his jaw and worked as quickly as he could to finish what he should have never started. He thrust up more than once and brought Kelly down hard against him. Instead of a soft choppy gasp, he brought a scream and then a husky moan from her mouth. She smiled down at him, lifted her fingers to her lips and licked.

Brent watched as her wet fingers trailed down the center of her body and then came to a stop on her c.l.i.t. Her movements were wild and erratic. The faster her fingers moved the louder her screams became.

Brent closed his eyes, shut out what was actually going on and drifted to another place. It was perfect.

She was perfect. Now their bodies were pressed against each other and her hard nipples were teasing his chest just like her p.u.s.s.y was teasing his d.i.c.k. Her mouth was inches away and he took what she offered.

Their tongues glided together in a perfectly ch.o.r.eographed dance. Her lips were silky and swollen and all he ever wanted. She broke their kiss only once to make a request.

"More," she asked, and Brent gave himself over completely.

With one more swift thrust upward, he settled deep within her warmth and felt her body quake around him. That was the end. Brent's breath became ragged as he came. He could feel the walls of her body clenching around him and the motion milked the life right out of him. With a sigh, he whispered her name.

"Hmmm."

The voice wasn't right. Why would it be? Opening his eyes, he studied the cracked popcorn ceiling of Kelly's apartment and tried to catch his breath. Her body was pressed against his and her fingers were making circles across his shoulders.

"What did you say?"

"What?" He ran a hand over his face and took another deep breath.

"What did you say at the end?"

"I don't know." Brent knew what he had said. He clenched his jaw over the slight and stood. In one movement, he rose to his feet and took her with him. She slid down his body in a seductive way, letting him know that whenever he was ready she was willing. He gave her a quick kiss on the mouth, pulled his jeans up to his hips and went off in search of the bathroom.

"You're more than welcome to get a shower. If you ask nicely, I just might join you." He closed the door on her voice. The bathroom was small. They all were in apartments like this. Brent was tall and his 24 frame was far from slim and it made maneuvering hard. Good thing he wasn't claustrophobic. A guy could go crazy in a place like this.

He grabbed a wash cloth from the basket sitting on the back of the commode, disposed of the condom and turned on the taps. When he looked up he caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink staring back at him. He looked like a man that was far from unsatisfied. His hair was in need of a trim, his face was in need of a shave and his body was in need of something he couldn't have.

"s.h.i.t," he hissed and ran the washcloth over his body. The coolness of the cloth felt like heaven against his inflamed skin. How long had his skin felt like this? Inflamed and smoldering without anything or anyone to bank the fire. Was it two years? Three? More? It was longer than any sane man could handle.

Brent shook his head at his reflection. You're a glutton for punishment, you know that? He knew he was. He had accused his brother Chase of being one more than once in the last few months. Maybe he was just projecting? Maybe he was just mad as h.e.l.l? Maybe he was the glutton?

Chase had what and who he wanted most in the world-in his life and in his bed. What did Brent have? Nights filled with very explicit fantasies, a few memories and days filled with the knowledge that they both would never be anything more.

The knock on the door sounded louder to his ears than it actually was.

"You comin' out of there anytime soon? Or would you rather I came in?" The doork.n.o.b jiggled and Brent thanked his lucky stars he'd had the good sense to lock it behind him. He made quick work of zipping and buckling his jeans and belt, tossed the cloth in the available laundry hamper and pulled the flimsy wooden divider open.

Kelly stood just on the other side wearing nothing but a smile and her skin. f.u.c.king glutton for punishment, he told himself. She laced her arms around his neck, pressed her nipples and b.r.e.a.s.t.s to his bare chest and kissed his mouth. With any other man it would have worked. Any other man in his right mind would have had Kelly Cantrell underneath him, on top of him or in front of him in a minute flat. But not Brent. Oh no. He was the one guy within five hundred f.u.c.king miles who would rather bed down with his thoughts than with the naked nymph grabbing his a.s.s.

"I need to be goin'." G.o.d, I'm an a.s.shole. He knew he was. But she took it in stride.

"Maybe another time." She kissed his mouth one last time and let her tongue tangle with his. Yep, a f.u.c.king glutton for f.u.c.king punishment.

"Another time." He placed a chaste kiss on her head and went in search of his hat and keys. He found them where he'd left them-resting discarded on Kelly's beige living-room carpet.

He pulled the soft T-shirt he took from Kelly's bedroom over his head, grabbed his keys and hat and walked, a little too swiftly, to the front door. He stopped himself and glanced back over his shoulder. Kelly had already disappeared down the hallway into her bedroom and wasn't giving him another thought. It was for the best. Brent couldn't ever be fair to her or to anybody else for that matter.

25.

He opened the door, flipped the lock and closed it quietly. His black extended-cab Chevrolet truck sat in one of the many parking s.p.a.ces in front of the complex. He pressed the b.u.t.ton on the key chain and heard the doors unlock and saw the interior light come on. Brent pulled the door open, hopped inside and slid the key into the ignition.

The truck came to life and the pipes growled as he pressed the gas pedal. He slammed the door, looked up at Kelly's apartment one last time-all the lights were off-and shifted the gear into reverse.

The apartment complex wasn't far from his family's ranch, but it was far enough away that Brent was left alone with his thoughts. He drove through downtown Millbrook and wasn't surprised to see the still, shadowed and stark buildings that marked his path home.

Folks around here rolled up their sidewalks once dark set in. Every business shut down with the sun, except for two. The Early Bird Cafe stayed open late and opened early-like it always had. And of course, the doors at Big Jack's bar stayed open until the wee hours of the morning. At least they did on the weekend.

Brent started to pa.s.s the bar and noticed one of his brothers' trucks still sat out front. Jason very rarely made it in before sunrise on Sat.u.r.day mornings. Brent scanned the parking lot and noticed that Peyton's car was no longer there. Where is she? The second the thought crossed his mind he banished it from his head.

Off-limits. She's off-limits. Let it go and move on.

Making a quick U-turn, he swung the rig around and parked next to his brother's truck and went back in. A few more shots and a whole lot of beer would be the only way for Brent to erase the way he felt-at least for a little while.

26.

Chapter Three.

After hours of tossing and turning and moving from her bed to the couch back to her bed, Peyton finally fell into a deep sleep. A sleep that would have been a lot less fitful if it hadn't been plagued by thoughts of Brent and his lips, his tongue and everything else for that matter.

As she tossed and turned, her sleeping mind revolved around their last night together.

"Well, h.e.l.lo there, stranger," were the only words Brent had allowed her to speak before he'd pulled her into his arms and fastened his mouth to hers. His taste filled her instantly. He ate at her lips like a starving man at a buffet. She returned his kiss with her own urgency and eagerness. He was delicious.

He pulled his lips away from hers for only seconds, and she loved what she saw reflected in his gaze.

Those glittering eyes glossed with desire. Her swollen lips and c.l.i.t begged to be taken again and again.

He lowered his head and her mind was immersed in his taste and his scent once more. The hands that held her arms at one point and time now ran the length of her body, coming to rest on the curve of her a.s.s.

Brent squeezed the firmness of her backside and lifted her to caress his swelling c.o.c.k.

He caught her gasp in his mouth and pushed the junction of his thighs against her stomach. The friction their clothes created between their bodies and against her c.l.i.t caused a flood of pleasure.

"I can't wait much longer," he managed to say in between kisses. She smiled against his mouth and seemed to spike his hunger even more. Her hands fell to his belt buckle and teased lower. That teasing nearly brought them both to their knees. He was so hard and thick beneath the denim. Within seconds the buckle was released, the b.u.t.ton was undone and the zipper was moving agonizingly slow over the swell in his pants. Her fingers found him rigid and ready. It was torture standing there only being able to touch, squeeze and tease his c.o.c.k.

She found her back pressed against the door he'd walked through only a short time before.

He anch.o.r.ed her hands above her head with one of his own and opened her body to his gaze and his need. With the one hand holding her the other was left free to roam and play. His strokes started at her knee and worked their way up. Flirting. His body was flirting with hers. He flirted with the bend of her knee, the outside of her thigh and then the inside.

"Feel good?" he asked before he kissed her slack mouth. She moaned and nodded her head as he continued with his exploration. His hand took its time reaching her hips. Their movement brought her skirt to her waist. He licked his lips when the sweet softness of her p.u.s.s.y was uncovered. He took her mouth once more and let his tongue dip and glide to his heart's content.

"I want you wet." His eyes caught hers. "I want you dripping when I get my d.i.c.k in you."

"I am wet. I am dripping." He released her hands and she placed them in his hair and pulled at the strands.

He sank to his knees and looked into her eyes once more. "Not yet you aren't. But you will be."

Before she could speak, he let his tongue reach and delve in between the slick folds of her p.u.s.s.y.

Wicked. That one word described Brent's tongue. Wicked. Peyton watched as he bathed and lapped at her lips over and over. It was too much. Too much pleasure. Holding on to the silky strands of his hair wasn't enough. She wanted more. She wanted him. Deep inside of her. Thrusting, rocking and slamming into her.

She almost forgot how his touch burned her skin and made her p.u.s.s.y soak with pleasure. His tongue flicked over the swollen bundle of nerves and nearly dropped her to her knees. She couldn't take any more.

She needed him. Needed him now.

"I want it. I want it now." When he didn't come to her, she pulled the hair that rested in her hands.

With ease, he removed her hands and held them at her sides and continued his a.s.sault on her c.l.i.t. He might have restrained her arms, but not her hips. Moving her hips with the rhythm his tongue created brought Peyton closer and closer to coming. Is that what he wanted? It wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to feel him fill her. She wanted to feel the sweet stretching he caused in her body.

Her body needed to tense around his length and size. She could beg. She could plead. But she wouldn't. She didn't. He came to her.

She couldn't help but lick her lips at the sight of his c.o.c.k. It was an involuntary reaction. His jeans still rested on his hips, covering more than they revealed. Reaching out, she took him in her hand and stroked the hard, warm, satin flesh of his erection.

Her effort was rewarded when a pearl drop of liquid appeared from the engorged head. Swiping her finger across the tip caused his body to tense. It tensed again when Peyton placed her finger in her mouth and licked the salty sweetness of him from it.