The smattering of people milling in the front of the building didn’t stop Big Country from spotting Stormy immediately, her red dress a flame, a beacon engulfed by darkness as she moved farther away from him. His truck was parked in the remotest part of the parking lot. Cursing the distance between them, he knew he had to get to her before she reached the truck. She had his keys and she’d leave him stranded out here without looking back.
Hearing the chirp of the remote, seeing the flash of the truck’s lights, Big Country sprinted forward, furious that she’d forced him to chase after her ass, furious that he wanted her to stay. He spun her around just as she lifted her hand toward the handle.
The slap that flowed like a choreographed ending to his action landed solidly against his cheek, freezing him where he stood.
A jagged fissure of lightning cracked the dark sky open, unleashing a torrent of water.
“Don’ttouch me!” Stormy shouted over the downpour. “I am sick of you touching me like you own me!”
She’d hit him.
She’d. Fucking. Hit. Him.
“Maybe we should make a contract about you keeping your hands to yourself, but we can’t do that, can we; not when the contract man always breaks his own agreements. Why create another contract with you, your fucking liar!” she shrieked, rainwater streaming down her face, saturating her body, transforming her dress into a crimson stain upon her skin.
“I’ma liar?” he asked.
She retreated until her back collided with the truck.
“Thing is, darlin’, I wasalwaysa man of my word,stayedin control of my goddamn emotions until you.” He grabbed her again, forced her around and pressed the front of her body into the truck. He stepped forward and molded himself along the length of her backside.
“It’s you,” he growled, grinding his dick into her ass. His vision blurred as rain slid into his eyes.
Pinning her hips with his pelvis, he kicked her ankles, pushing them wider but not too wide, just far enough apart for him to access the parts of her he didn’t have rights to anymore. “It’s you,” he muttered again, unzipping his jeans, and shoving the material of her dress up over her ass.
She didn’t have on any panties, not even a damn G-string.
There would be no barriers between them.
Working Bubba loose, Big Country slid his dick between the silken juncture of Stormy’s thighs. The combination of rainwater and warm liquid gushing from her core turned Bubba slippery as an eel.
“It’salwaysfucking you,” he muttered pumping his hips into the narrow seam.
“Lucas—”
“No.”
The time for words was done.
Gripping her hair, he forced her head back, kissed her as if the air she breathed was the only oxygen his lungs could survive on. He kissed her savagely, consuming her, as he pumped his hips, his tip colliding with her engorged clit over and over. She arched back, pushing her ass deeper into his groin, demanding more.
“You feel this shit, right, Stormy?” he growled, letting her ride Bubba’s length, quickening the slide until her whimpers became moans. “Don’t want my touch, though, huh? Want me to stop, that’s what ya say?”
She tried to shake her head, but he tightened his grip.
“Who’s the fucking liar now?” he asked, adjusting Bubba so that the tip breached Stormy’s vagina. She made a needy sound, a confused unfulfilled sound, trying to push Bubba deeper.
Big Country withdrew until he was almost outside of her, smacked the side of her ass and let the sting linger before he surged into her, lifting her off her feet and made the truck rock with the power of his thrust. Stormy screamed, thunder took the sound and rolled it across the heavens.
Big Country rested his forehead against the nape of Stormy’s neck as her pussy squeezed on Bubba, milking him of the seed that could fertilize her womb, and he wanted to see that, wanted to see her body swell and ripen as it provided the nutrients to make his seed grow strong inside her.
There were no barriers between them.
The realization hit him like a fentanyl high, and he thrust harder, unrepentant in his addiction. He craved Stormy Redmond, longed for her fucking pussy even though he was still deep inside it.
Stormy’s head fell forward onto the truck.
She was panting as if she’d been running from him her whole life, as if every step meant to distance herself from him led them right to this moment.
