I bury my head in my hands. “Come on. Before you girls kill me.”
“I don’t think your friend handles her whiskey too good.” I tilt my head toward Zadie, who’s wrapped in a blanket in the bed of my truck, drooling on the metal floor.
“I know. Who’d have thought she would be such a lightweight?”
“I still can’t believe the two of you did what you did. Why? You have some hot cowboy you had to meet up with?”
“Yep,” she says without elaborating. I regret the words instantly. What the hell am I doing? Fishing for compliments? She’s sixteen years old. I shouldn’t be encouraging her. Lemon Winchester don’t need no encouragement.
Still, empty food wrappers litter the floor around us and the girls are sober enough that we should be on the road already, but I can’t bring myself to move. Not while Lemon’s cuddled up to my side, a blanket over our outstretched legs and the field of stars above us.
“What about at home? There ain’t no boys your own age beating down your door for a date?”
She makes a pffting sound. “No one is even looking in my direction, Colt. Not with the Winchester boys breathing down their necks.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I look at you all the time.”
A coy smile lifts the corners of her lips, and my heart skips a beat it has no right to be skipping. “And you’d be dead if West ever caught you. Not that someone like you would ever look at me the way I want you to.”
“Maybe you’re just not seeing things clearly.” I tuck her hair behind her ear and her brows pinch together. I’m on dangerous ground here. Lemon wasn’t exaggerating. If West knew I was here with his little sister, he’d beat the shit outta me. He’d never let me near her again.
She leans forward and presses her lips to mine. She tastes like whiskey and cherry-cola lip gloss and I can’t get enough. I cup her cheek, and she clambers into my lap.
“Whoa.” My hands frame her hips, but even I’m not crazy enough to touch her when she’s straddling me like this. “Lemon … I—”
“I think about you.”
I press a chaste kiss to her lips and smile. “I think about you too, but, darlin’—”
“A lot.” She grinds her hips.
Jesus. I groan. “Lemon, darlin’, stop.”
“I want you, Colt. I want you so much it hurts.”
“We can’t do this,” I say, but I ain’t convincing anyone. Fuck. I know exactly how she feels because I’ve been looking at this girl for years, just aching to touch her, to hold her in my arms, and kiss her like this.
“Do you touch yourself when you think about me? Because I do.” She nibbles my neck, her hips rocking back and forth, sliding her pussy against my dick. “I think about you all the time, Colt. When I’m at school, when I’m doing my chores around the ranch, and when I’m alone in my room at night. I want you all the time.”
“Lemon,” I beg, her grinding obliterates all my self-control. “Fuck.”
I grip her hips and move her back and forth, bucking my own up to meet hers, and drive us both closer to the edge. Lemon wraps her arms around my neck, and I shove her tiny shirt over her breast, leaning forward to suck her puckered, rosy nipple into my mouth. She throws her head back and moans, and as much as I love that sound, I have the good sense to remember we’re not alone. Zadie’s only a foot away and we’re parked in a field just off the main road where anyone could find us. The last thing I want is the police driving by and having to explain why I’ve got two underage girls in my truck after midnight. I cover her mouth and Lemon’s eyes widen, but she darts out her tongue to lick my fingers and I lose all control. I blow my load in my jeans as if I was seventeen again. My thrusting must push her over the edge because her lips part in the most delicious “O” and I feel her pussy convulse against me.
Lemon takes a beat, eyes closed, euphoric in her orgasm. I remove my hand from her mouth and trail it down her chest, pulling her shirt as I cup her perfect tits underneath. Her breaths are beautiful and ragged, and there’s a wet patch soaking the front of my jeans from our combined orgasms, but I don’t care about that. Her auburn hair falls around our faces as she leans forward and kisses me, and I can’t help it—I roll us so that I’m on top, and I settle my weight between her legs as I kiss her so deep and so hard that I know the only thing she’s breathing is me.
Am I the first she’s done this with? I can’t see how anyone else could have gotten close enough with her brothers acting as bodyguards all the time. But I sure hope I am, because it’s not just the fact that I may have to kill some other guy if I’m not—it’s the fact that I want to be her only. I want to drive her just as mad as she’s been driving me all these years.
Jesus. I’m an asshole. I’m sick. Lemon is so much younger than me. She’s my best friend’s little sister, and now that I’ve had a taste, I can’t let her go. It’s killing me to imagine her with someone else. This is wrong, in so many ways. All the Winchester men would be well within their rights to castrate me like a young, wild bull. My daddy too. Going down this road ensures I just sharpened the knife for them, but I can’t stop. Now that I’ve had a taste of Lemon Winchester, risking my life is worth it for just one more.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lemon
When the hum of ATVs roar to life and I know the boys are gone, I open my door and head downstairs, a little embarrassed at my outburst. I don’t know what it is about Colton Hayes that turns me into a teenager again, but I never could think rationally around that boy, and I sure as hell can’t think rationally around the man.
“Mama?” I say to her back as she stands cooking at the stove. From dawn to dusk, that woman prepares meals for this household and for the bed-and-breakfast guests. “I’m sorry I ran out on lunch.”
“It’s alright, darlin’. I mean, you know I have rules about anyone leaving my table before their plate is clean, but I understand why you needed to get away. I’m sorry I pushed.”
“It’s okay.”
“You know, I remember a time I couldn’t get the two of you to quit holdin’ hands at my table. Seventeen years old and you couldn’t stop touching him.”
I wince. “Things change, Mama.”
“Mm-hmm, and sometimes things change so much that we find ourselves right where we need to be.” She walks over to the counter and picks up my plate before setting it down in front of me. I bite my lip to hide my smile. Once upon a time, if you left my mother’s table without finishing your plate, what was left of your meal went to the chickens and the dogs. I lift one half of the sandwich and dig in, rolling my eyes back in my head as mustard and home-cooked roast beef roll over my tongue, and I moan. Mama grabs two glasses from the cabinet and fills them with sweet tea, then she pulls out the stool beside me and sits.
“So, Colton Hayes has grown up a lot,” Mama ventures.
“Yep.”
“He’s a fine young gentleman and he’s been such a great help around here. The ranch wouldn’t still be running without him and West.”