Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
I can get away. What do you want?
Your cock, I replied. But also, pizza.
LOL. I’ll be there soon.
I found myself smiling as I put my phone back into my pocket. Something about him just…got to me, this country boy with the bashful smile and sharp, sinful tongue.
It was only after five, Isaac having left pretty early. Less than an hour later, I heard a knock. I felt a stupid, annoying jump in my pulse that I didn’t want to acknowledge or dissect at all.
When I pulled the door open, Brody was there with a pizza box and a smile. “What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. Christ, was I that easy to read? I was still thinking about my reaction to his knock on the door.
“Nothing. I’m starving, is all.”
“Well, then I guess we better get some sausage in you.”
I cocked a brow. “You think so, huh? What if I wanted to feed my sausage to you?”
“I meant on the pizza. Someone always has dick on the brain.” He swept inside, obviously completely comfortable there, and went to the kitchen.
“I mean, why not? Cock is great.” I waggled my eyebrows.
“You’re incorrigible.”
“It’s my trademark,” I said playfully. “Whiskey, beer, water, or sweet tea—I got lemon for you. I know how you like that shit in your tea. I don’t get it.”
Brody paused as if I’d said something wrong.
“What?”
“You got lemon for my tea? You and Isaac don’t use it?”
Oh, well, when he said it like that, it did sound like it meant something. “I needed it for a recipe,” I lied.
“Hey, did you know your pants are on fire?” he teased in this almost childish way that made me laugh.
“Whatever.”
Brody came up to me, backing me against the counter. “Liar, liar, pants on fire. You like me, and you don’t want to admit you got lemon specifically for me.”
“You O’Ralleys are cocky motherfuckers.” But I did like him, the bastard.
“And you Mitchells aren’t?” he countered, then moved away, and damned if I wasn’t disappointed.
We chatted about random shit as we drank and ate—Brody with the damn lemon in his tea. I told him about the folder of information Isaac had put together for him. When we finished, he asked, “So what’s up with Isaac?”
“I don’t know. He’s being shady. I have no idea where he disappeared to today. Fucking sucks, though. We need to get his car. I’m going a little stir-crazy being cooped up in the house.”
Brody frowned. “You’re not trapped most of the time. You don’t go out?”
Damned if I didn’t feel a wave of, well, what almost felt like melancholy twisted up with embarrassment, wash over me. “It’s nothing really. I mean, I go places. I just…stick out. I haven’t stuck out since I was a kid in foster care. For all that Southern hospitality you’re supposed to have, people look at me like I don’t belong and tell me the craziest shit.”
“Aw, I’ll protect you when we go out—well, not that I can go out with you.” He said it as a joke, but we both paused for a moment, letting that sink in. We legit were hiding our friendship because of a feud from over a hundred years ago. “Come on.” Brody shoved to his feet.
“Where are we going? Into town? We can go have a drink with Lauren at the Barn.”
“Um, no, but I have something maybe a little better. Do you have a blanket? And towels, we need towels. Grab a bag.”
“Yes, sir!” I teased, but yeah, I was excited too.
“I got all the stuff,” Brody said, stuffing everything into a backpack, then leading me out the back door and through my property.
“You sure as shit know a lot about the Mitchell land.”
“I told you why. Hell, I’ve explored the whole damn thing.”
I followed along as we made our way across the grassy hills, through the field, to the woods.
It took us a good thirty minutes before we reached the foot of a hill and the base of the creek, where a little swimming hole awaited us. It was a different spot from where Brody had taken me last time.
“Last one in is a rotten egg!” Brody ripped his shirt off, then his shoes and jeans.
“Nope. Stop right there, country boy.” I walked over, hooked my fingers in the edges of his briefs, and tugged them down. “You brought me out here, I’m damn sure going to enjoy the view. You’re going skinny-dipping with me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Brody
“You naughty little fuck,” I told Cohen as he slid my briefs down my legs. I stepped out of them, and he leaned in and swiped his tongue along the length of my cock. Slow, skilled movements that reminded me I had a lot of catching up to do. I was surprised at how quickly I perked up, but I hardly had time to think about that when I was busy enjoying the sensation of him taking my cock into his mouth.