Page 22 of Her Filthy Cowboy

“Harder. I need more.”

I oblige, picking up the pace. The hay rustles beneath us with each thrust. Sweat beads on my skin as I drive us both higher.

“You’re mine.” Possessiveness surges through me. “Say it, Savannah.”

“I’m yours. All yours, Brody.”

Her words push me closer to the edge. I can feel her tightening around me, her release building.

“Come for me, honey. I know you want to. Come all over my cock.”

Savannah cries out, her body tensing as pleasure washes over her. The sight of her coming undone triggers my own release. We cling to each other, riding out the waves of ecstasy together.

As our breathing slows, I press a tender kiss to her forehead and hold her close.

“Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m your man now, and I’ll make damn sure of it.”

Chapter Eight

SAVANNAH

I smileand nod as my sister Haley passes the mashed potatoes, but my thoughts are a million miles away.

Or more precisely, in the barn earlier today, wrapped in Brody’s strong arms.

“Savannah? Did you hear what I said?”

My eyes snap open to find Dad frowning at me from the head of the table. “Sorry, what was that?”

He exchanges a look with Liam. “I was asking your opinion on selling those fifty acres to the Gibsons. Reckon it’s a good deal or should we hold out for more?”

I scramble to gather my wits, pushing thoughts of Brody aside. “Um, well, land prices have been rising. It might be smart to wait.”

Dad gives an approving nod. “My thought exactly. No need to be hasty.”

As the conversation shifts to preparations for the upcoming cattle auction, I try to focus. But my mind keeps wandering back to Brody like a compass seeking north.

I cut into my steak, determined to act normal, but I can feel Liam’s eyes boring into me from across the table. He knowssomething is up. I avoid his gaze, my heart hammering in my chest.

I should be grateful he hasn’t ratted me out to Mom and Dad about Brody yet. If they knew their daughter was sneaking around with a Clayton, all hell would break loose. I’d be in for the lecture of a lifetime. Or worse, they might try to stop me from seeing him altogether.

But I can tell from the tight set of Liam’s jaw and the accusatory arch of his brow that he’s just itching to tattle on me. It’s only a matter of time before he opens his big mouth. I need to get my story straight before that happens.

A sharp knock at the front door cuts into my thoughts.

My mother’s chair scrapes against the hardwood floor as she rises to answer the door. I take a sip of water, trying to calm my nerves. But then I hear a familiar deep voice rumbling from the entryway and my heart leaps into my throat.

“Good evening, Mrs. Sullivan. I need to speak with your husband. It’s important.”

Brody. He’s here.

“I think you’d better come inside, dear,” she replies.

Footsteps echo down the hall as my mother leads Brody into the dining room. I keep my eyes glued to my plate, afraid to look up. Afraid of what I might see in his eyes. Afraid of what my family will see in mine.

“What’s he doing here?” Liam demands, his chair clattering back as he shoots to his feet.

I risk a glance at Brody. He stands tall and proud in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling out a crisp white button-down shirt. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing his tanned, muscular forearms. His dark hair is tousled, like he’s been running his fingers through it. And his blue eyes blaze with determination as they lock onto mine.

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