Dynomite: A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance (10 page)

She took it the wrong way. She thought I cared about her education. “I’m waitlisted for several schools, but I doubt I’ll get into any of them. They keep you on pins and needles. I can’t take it anymore. There’s just too much pressure on me from every angle.” Her distant eyes started to puddle with water, and now I was the one who couldn’t take it.

I grabbed her by the upper arms and jammed her against my chest. One hand cradled her skull to my throat. She came willingly, no resistance at all. I squished her like raw clay, as though she had no bones, as though she could pass airily through my skeleton.

She even wrapped her arms around my waist and mumbled against my collarbone. “You don’t know how much stress I’m under. You think I’m this perfect rah-rah cheerleader.”

“No. I don’t think that at all.”

She pulled back far enough to look up at me. I couldn’t tell if she was offended that I didn’t think she was the cheerleader type. My heart actually thudded, wondering what her urgent look was all about.

I actually stroked her head. I’m not a head-stroking guy, but suddenly I felt all affectionate over her. Maybe it was her big-eyed pleading look. That was it.

But I sure wasn’t ready for her words.

“Kiss me.”

I did. And how.

I probably left fingerprints on her upper arms, I was squeezing her so tightly. I had to hold myself back from sliding my tongue down her throat. I usually just glommed onto the girl like some kind of starving vampire. Of course, at the time, every teen boy thinks he’s the world’s best lover. You don’t know it’s going to take another five, seven years to reach that status. Fucking another hundred women might be a good start. April wasn’t my first rodeo by a long shot, but how many gals could a seventeen-year-old run around banging simultaneously?

So I admired the way I held back. I gently licked the inside of her upper lip, tickling her incisors with the tip of my tongue. She was a tiny doe of a girl in my hands. Like a little bird with her tiny bones, and I was crushing her.

But she went limp willingly. It’s corny to say she melted into my arms, but she did. She parted her lips and tickled my tongue with hers. She even lifted one of her little cowgirl boots and placed it around the back of my knee. I helped her out by twining a hand around her bare thigh and holding it up there. Wedged against me like this, I could slather my stiff cock almost against her bared panties, her skirt was hiked up so high.

And I knew I wouldn’t make it.

I wouldn’t last long with her sighing into my mouth, going limp in my arms, smashing her shelf of boobs to my abs.

I had to find a graceful, manly way out of this. I couldn’t go shooting in my jeans like some fucking…well, like some fucking inexperienced teenager.

The truth was, April was the classiest girl who’d ever thrown herself at me. She topped even her BFF Olivia for hifalutin class.

Olivia
had
thrown herself at me just yesterday, in fact. I was walking with my book bag after last class, heading to the parking lot where my ride was waiting. We were calving out some heifers that afternoon so I was going in early. Olivia literally grabbed me, dragged me behind a dumpster, and slid her tongue down my throat, just as I was now doing to April.

Weird thing was, I didn’t respond. It was like my body was dead. What the fuck was happening to me? Scared me that I was just going through the motions, and when I went to feel her boob, that’s when I cut it short. I made some calving excuse, but truth was, my heart and dick weren’t in it. I didn’t
want
to bang this delicious blonde
head cheerleader
, and I was
making an excuse to get out of it.

I kept telling myself it was because I wanted April so heavily. I was glad to find out now I’d probably been right. My cock was up like a fucking hammer, holding it against such a sheer piece of heaven. And then
she
started moving. Rocking her hips back and forth against my hard-on. Her pouty lips slashed and slid across mine, her gravity-defying boobs rubbed my nipples, and now just a couple layers of flimsy cotton separated her pussy from my prick.

I was an absolute out-of-control maniac. And I was about to lose it severely.

I did the only thing a man could do. I took her by the shoulders, slammed her up against the side of the house, and fell to my knees in front of her.

APRIL

I
was out
of my ever-loving fucking mind. I know that.

But I don’t apologize for a single thing I did with my stepbrother.

I was grieving. I was absolutely in my fucking cups. My whole world was being turned upside down and my dad had done nothing to shield me from the cold, cruel world. He was even actively engaged in throwing more garbage at me. He seemed completely unaffected by my mother’s death.

Then my uncle. That needs no explanation. My dad knew what Marcus did to me, yet he had basically told me to shut up and put up.

I wanted Marcus far, far away, and Lawson Willard wasn’t that far behind him. I had no desire in any way, shape, or form to fuck Lawson Willard. The more I knew of him, the less I liked. Running Dyno off the road. Name-calling that poor defenseless Indian. Throwing rocks at Dyno’s bike. That wasn’t attractive or manly. Dyno was, when he defended poor Sequoia.

Dyno was manly when he followed me to see what Marcus was doing. He was oh so masculine when staying on that horse thirty seconds. When he came to school smelling of horse shit, when strangling Lawson, when riding his Harley. Let’s face it. Everything he did, every cell of his being, was manly. And my hormones, my enzymes or estrogen or whatever rushes through your bloodstream, everything that made up my soul was responding to him.

When I said “kiss me,” he did. Oh, Lord, he did.

I had never enjoyed such a luscious, sensual kiss. He didn’t choke me with his tongue like Lawson did. He
tasted
me ever so gently as though I were a precious flower. Before I knew it, I’d twined my arms around him, was pressing my chest to his. Like they say in romance novels, I
melted
into his kiss. That had never happened to me before. I was alive in every sense of the word. Hearing, feeling, smelling his essence as we entwined our tongues.

Yes, he smelled like a ranch. But there was hay mixed in there, and hay is the scent of sunshine. Of course, he had a lot of despair, anger, even rage. I didn’t blame him. His life had been yanked out from under him, too. Sequoia had told me that Dyno held up his scholastic brother as an idol. This brother had bailed on the family and sort of shown Dyno up to be an incompetent loser, smarts-wise. Sequoia had told me lots of things as he drank his gin. That he thought Dyno had the hots for me.

That was good enough to encourage a desperate sad sack like me, and I smashed my torso to Dyno’s like there was no tomorrow. When I lifted my boot and wedged it on his boot behind his calf, it tilted my pussy against his urgent bulge. I hadn’t known how eager I was to feel that tool, all plumped up with desire, pressed against my sex. I rolled my hips back and forth, the better to feel it, shocked at my own boldness. The head of his enormous prick was massaging my slick clit.
What am I doing? Whatever it is, it’s the right thing.

Suddenly, though, he slammed me against the house. He kneeled in front of me and I was afraid he was going to make some desperate pronouncement. Admit to killing someone, or something.

But he didn’t. He just gripped the hem of my skirt so tightly his knuckles were white. He had this strange, skewed, almost deranged look that almost frightened me for a second. It didn’t, though, because I was so carried away with lust. My pussy actually
throbbed
. I’d never known it could do that, not even during sessions with my WOB. I was brazenly spreading my thighs, and from his vantage point he could probably see my pink panties.

He was looking right up at me.

I touched the crown of his head, like I was knighting him. We both panted at each other like wrestlers, and finally a cry wrenched its way from my throat.

“
Do it!
Do it, Dyno!”

I wish I’d known what his idea of “do it” meant, though.

He fell on me, practically snarling and biting his way through my panties. It terrified me, sure. What girl is prepared to have a man’s
face
that close to her private parts? Ten showers and bottles of Summer’s Eve can’t prepare a girl for that.

But my bold, crazed mood helped me ride it out, and soon Dyno was mouthing my clit through the flimsy nylon fabric. I’d never experienced this, and it was a direct shot from my clit to my uterus, which fluttered and quivered like a moth. Plaintive little keening cries floated around my head, confusing me, until I realized it was
me
making those sounds. I sounded like a teapot about to go off. And his tongue hadn’t even touched naked flesh yet.

“
Dyno—Dyno—Dyno—“
I remember swearing in Spanish. It was the height of irony that Dyno and I took Spanish class together. “
Le madre que te parió!” The mother who gave birth to you!
“
Hijo de puta!” Son of a bitch!

They didn’t teach us
that
in class.

He held my thighs up with his powerful shoulders, tanned like satiny caramel. I’d never known his dirty blond hair was so fucking soft as it tickled the inside of my legs. He opened his mouth wide and clamped down directly on my button, breathing out a searing breath of heat that sent a powerful shudder up my spine. He mouthed my labia like a fucking dog. Jealousy speared my gut to think of him doing this to other girls, but it obviously wasn’t his first time. Not his first rodeo, as he’d say.

When he moaned and groaned, it sent meltingly hot arrows of fire into my ovaries. I was literally out of my head by now, clutching his skull so tightly it’s a wonder it didn’t explode. I was running out of Spanish curses, so I resorted to spewing “
Joder! Mierda!”
like some kind of spastic moron.

Fine tremors ran up my inner thighs by now, and Dyno took a split second break to grab a milk crate and bang it upside-down next to me. That was thoughtful, and while I was propping one boot up there, he took the moment to strip my panties down the length of my other leg. When I made a little hop, he whisked them away completely, flung into some weeds or other, and he took a giant dive into my muff, face-first.

Oh. Dear. Lord.

I tell you. If you’ve never experienced this sort of tongue-fucking, do it. Do it now. Find the first talented guy, grab him by the ears, and shove his face between your legs.

Do it. Now.

It was like a rocket shot directly from my clit and out the top of my skull the second he applied his scorching tongue to me. His tongue squirmed like a hot baked oyster, twining around my protruding clit, lapping away like a cat at a bowl of milk.

I couldn’t take it.

Everything was too, too much! His breath against my inner core, his nose buried in my shaved labia—I’d never been so wide open, so vulnerable to a horny man!

I gripped a handful of his hair like I was about to scalp him, and I shuddered my pubic bone against his face. Dyno Drummond was as good at giving head as he was at busting broncs. He was licking me into a frenzy like his tongue had abs muscles. He was a licking
machine
, and it was ten times better than any WOB
because it was him
. He was doing it
because he wanted me to feel good
, and
that
was probably the sexiest thing in the world.

Unexpectedly, I came with a bang.

It was so sudden, the clamping down on my uterus, the helpless free fall through the vortex of ecstasy, that my legs collapsed from under me.

It was like a giant hand came and squished all my internal organs. Those fabled internal arms wrapped around my ovaries, my uterus, blissfully squishing any sense of intelligence from me. When my legs collapsed, Dyno was there to catch me. He held me up against the house with his broad shoulders, never missing a beat in his tongue-lashing.

When the rapture built to such a crest I was gnashing my teeth and yanking out Dyno’s hair, he slowed his beat. Oh, good. It seemed I might break some internal organ for a while there.

I still couldn’t stand on my rubbery legs, and when electrical spasm started shooting like live wires directly from my clit, I gave one decisive yank on Dyno’s head, pulling him off me.

Panting until I saw tiny bubbles, I staggered to some kind of rusty tractor. It had a rusty seat, and I sat, halfway melting onto the ground. I didn’t even bother pulling my skirt back down at first. I just panted, tried to calm my racing heart—I even pounded my fist on my chest like a cavewoman to get it to slow down.
Me Korg. Take me like animal.

Dyno just sat there, his forearms balanced on his knees, grinning a shit-eating grin. He didn’t even look away when he wiped his face off on his arm. Then he speared his fingers through his hair. He even licked his lips. I’d never seen him look so smoothed-out, so
serene
.

And then I had to go and blow it.

A switch flipped inside me, and I panicked. I saw a few cars go by on the road, I think that’s what set me off. The idea that some cowhands might have seen us engaged in carnal activity.
And tell my father
. Oh, God, that would be the ultimate.
My father
knowing what had just transpired. He would fire Dyno and make me work on the CowBucks program for the rest of my life. I would marry a cowpoke because those would be the only men I’d ever see. The rest of my life suddenly stretched out in front of me, all gloom and doom.