Page 91 of Patching Over

“I saw your gun, is that the only one you have?”

“I have several, actually. Grampy raised me to be a farmer and sometimes, that meant taking care of the wildlife trying to harm our livestock. He also taught me how to hunt and fish. We were relatively self-supporting on the farm, Banshee. Grams bought whatever we couldn’t grow or kill at the store, but every year, we went in with a neighbor and paid to slaughter and process a cow and two pigs.”

“I think you’re the perfect woman,” he murmurs, making me giggle.

“How do you figure that?”

“Because, sweetheart, we may be bikers, but we live in the mountains, and next to riding, hunting and fishing are two of our favorite things to do. Our old president and several others started a processing company, so everything we kill goes through it, and after our freezers are beyond full, we donate what’s left to whoever needs it.”

“I like that,” I reply. “We did that too, plus Grampy would take our extra vegetables and eggs, along with any bread me and Grams would make, down to the local farmer’s market on the weekends. He had his own little booth but was never there very long because he’d always manage to sell out.”

“The ol’ ladies used to do that too when I was a kid. Now, we just have one ol’ lady, my sister.”

“What happened to the rest of them?” I question, curious to know everything about this man who is making my pulse raise with his proximity.

“Some of the old-timers retired and moved to be closer to their kids who moved away a long time ago, while a few of thempassed away. We, the brothers that is, still hunt and get the meat processed for our community food bank, but maybe starting a garden and getting a booth at the farmer’s market would be a good idea.”

“Well, if you need another set of hands to help, I apparently don’t have a home to go back to anymore,” I boldly offer.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he growls out, gathering me even closer before I feel his lips touch mine.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

Banshee

The moment our lips touch, I’m done for; hers are soft, plump, and definitely bitable. But it’s the soft moans coming from her that have me fighting the urge to roll her to her back and slide my hard as concrete cock between her firm, muscular thighs until I’m buried so deep that there’ll be no way to distinguish where I end, and she begins.

As my hand comes up to cradle her face, I realize my father’s long-ago words are true. I don’t know her birthday, or how she acts when she’s got her period, but to the marrow of my bones, I know she’s it for me. We have a lifetime of figuring out each other, as far as I’m concerned. When my fingers touch her silky tresses, I let out a moan of my own, deepening our kiss until our tongues are tangling.

Her lush breasts, unbound by her bra, are crushed against me, and I can feel her nipples pressed against my bare chest. Pulling back slightly to catch my breath, I whisper out, “Fuck.”

Because the emotions coursing through me right now are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. That’s notto say I’ve never had any feelings toward a woman, but they’ve never once in my life given me images of forever, complete with kids, pets, a warm, cozy home of my own. I thought I lost the home aspect after my parents both died and now, I can see it’s only because I was waiting for this fascinating, beautiful slip of a woman to enter my life.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” Her voice is breathless, and I can feel her heart racing against me, since we’re so close a piece of paper wouldn’t be able to slide between us.

“The same thing that overcame me,” I reply, grinning down at her. Her lips are now a deeper red, puffy and swollen from our kisses, but it’s her eyes that are captivating right now. Her lids are at half-mast, and I can see the desire swimming there. “If you don’t want this, say the word, Rory. No harm, no foul.”

Except to my dick but I can take him in hand.

“I do, but can I just say something? I’m not that kind of girl who meets someone and immediately jumps into bed with them.”

“Never got that impression from you, babe. But I think whatever this is transcends shit.” Look at me using my big words. “I told you earlier you were going to be mine, and if we have to wait for you to get comfortable with that fact, we will.”

It might cause more calluses on my hand, but I don’t give that first flying fuck. Whatever she needs, she’ll get.

Her voice is whisper-soft when she says, “I don’t want to wait.”

As if a switch has been flipped, within seconds, I have her completely undressed and bared to my gaze. I still have my sleep pants on, but that’s because I want to make sure she’s needy with desire before I slide between her thighs, since I suspect I’ll want to nut up before the first thrust is complete.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” I tell her, my eyes bouncing from her hair that’s splayed across the pillow, down to her heavingbreasts which are the perfect size for my hands. I’m pretty sure I can span her waist and have room to spare, while her hips already have me envisioning taking her from behind while gripping them. I can see her desire slickening the inside of her thighs and decide I need a taste so I scoot down the bed, spreading her legs so I can fit between them.

At the first swipe of my tongue through her folds, she arches her back and I feel her fingers lightly grip the hair on the top of my head. Grinning, I set about making her come apart in my arms. I lick, suck, and nibble her pussy, moaning at the flavor that bursts over my tongue. I know there are those out there who don’t enjoy going down on a woman, but it’s one of my top five favorite things to do in the world. As she writhes on the bed, her legs twisting around my head, I insert my index finger into her tight, wet heat and nearly come in my own pants like a teenage boy at the sensation.

Setting a steady thrusting motion, I continue my ministrations, focusing on her clit while adding a second finger. While I’ve never measured my dick, well, not since me and the boys were twelve, I know from past experience I’m bigger than average and the last thing I want to do is hurt her.

“Banshee,” she breathes out, “that feels so damn good.”

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