Cocky Cowboy: A Second Chance Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 3) by Faleena Hopkins Page A
Authors: Faleena Hopkins
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tattoos rippling on his chest and down his left arm.
I claw my way up his body, straddling his lap like I’ve just woken up for the first time.
I grab the back of Jaxson’s head and kiss him hard, our open lips careening into each other without shame. As we bite and lick each other he starts fucking me rougher and faster. I ride him like this until he roars. His girth fills to its fullest right before he shouts, “Holy fucking hell!” and explodes, his orgasm so primal I find myself falling over the cliff too, joining him, moaning into each other’s panting lips as we cum together.
When he lays us back down he easily stays inside me. Lazily sliding his hand over my hip, he pauses because the nearby fire was a little too hot against my bare skin.
“Here,” he murmurs, pulling the soft rug up against my reddened hip. “I didn’t know you were overheating.”
“Didn’t you?” I smile.
He laughs into my neck and presses slow caressing kisses there for a deliciously long time.
Jaxson
A t the distant crow of Hank, I wake in bed, blinking the lack of sleep away. I got maybe an hour. The blanket is covering Rachel. Even her creamy shoulders are hidden. Her hair is wavy from the shower we took together after a couple more rounds of reacquainting ourselves. The shower saw more action than it has in a couple years, too.
But it’s Sunday now, isn’t it?
Back to him.
My time with her is soon over.
In the stable I get relief from obsessing about this mess I’ve put myself in, with the familiar rituals I do every day of my life. Each of my twenty-two cows gets attached to the milking parlor, a row of machines designed to make this process time-efficient and easy for all involved. Starting at one end of the row, with the first cow done, I strain the warm white liquid into a stainless steel bucket and bring it to the milk tank where it stays at the correct cooled temperature until the guys pick it up for turning into whatever they like.
Connie moos loudly as I go to let them out.
Smiling, I walk over.
“Hey Con, did I almost forget to pet you? My mind is elsewhere, girl. My apologies.” Stroking her thick neck until she calms down, I comfort her with promises of good weather. “You ready for some sunlight? Looks clear today.”
She vocalizes her approval, the most social of my girls.
Strolling to the gate, I crack it open so they have to exit in single file where I can touch each one as they amble past me into the golden grey light of morning to graze on the three-hundred and forty acres I bought on a loan right out of college. When my grandfather passed he left all of us boys enough that I was able to pay that off.
I always wanted this life.
It’s a lot of work running a healthy farm, but it’s soul soothing for a man like me.
Lots of quiet. Lots of hands-on labor.
It’s the reason I was in shape enough to go all night with Rachel, since gyms bore the shit out of me.
Rachel.
Shading my eyes as I gaze west, I try to see her walking around through my bedroom window. She’s probably still dreaming.
I don’t know what’s about to happen, especially since I’m not altogether clear on what I want. Never planned this.
In Georgia you have screen doors because the bugs’ll try and fly away with you if you give them a chance. I’ve got two screens, one for the enclosed patio, the other for my house, which I have to get fixed. Missing the lever that is supposed to keep it from slamming, it hits the doorframe hard behind me.
With the noise having woken her, Rachel calls down in a sleepy voice from the bedroom, “Jaxson?”
“I’m here!” I reassure her. “I’m just gonna make some coffee.”
She calls down, voice losing steam, “Not yet. Come back.”
“Be right up.”
Washing my hands in the kitchen sink, I turn and set my cowboy hat on an antique, bare-wood chair. Staring out the window for about five minutes I obsess all over again about what comes next with us.
Fucking New York City of
I claw my way up his body, straddling his lap like I’ve just woken up for the first time.
I grab the back of Jaxson’s head and kiss him hard, our open lips careening into each other without shame. As we bite and lick each other he starts fucking me rougher and faster. I ride him like this until he roars. His girth fills to its fullest right before he shouts, “Holy fucking hell!” and explodes, his orgasm so primal I find myself falling over the cliff too, joining him, moaning into each other’s panting lips as we cum together.
When he lays us back down he easily stays inside me. Lazily sliding his hand over my hip, he pauses because the nearby fire was a little too hot against my bare skin.
“Here,” he murmurs, pulling the soft rug up against my reddened hip. “I didn’t know you were overheating.”
“Didn’t you?” I smile.
He laughs into my neck and presses slow caressing kisses there for a deliciously long time.
Jaxson
A t the distant crow of Hank, I wake in bed, blinking the lack of sleep away. I got maybe an hour. The blanket is covering Rachel. Even her creamy shoulders are hidden. Her hair is wavy from the shower we took together after a couple more rounds of reacquainting ourselves. The shower saw more action than it has in a couple years, too.
But it’s Sunday now, isn’t it?
Back to him.
My time with her is soon over.
In the stable I get relief from obsessing about this mess I’ve put myself in, with the familiar rituals I do every day of my life. Each of my twenty-two cows gets attached to the milking parlor, a row of machines designed to make this process time-efficient and easy for all involved. Starting at one end of the row, with the first cow done, I strain the warm white liquid into a stainless steel bucket and bring it to the milk tank where it stays at the correct cooled temperature until the guys pick it up for turning into whatever they like.
Connie moos loudly as I go to let them out.
Smiling, I walk over.
“Hey Con, did I almost forget to pet you? My mind is elsewhere, girl. My apologies.” Stroking her thick neck until she calms down, I comfort her with promises of good weather. “You ready for some sunlight? Looks clear today.”
She vocalizes her approval, the most social of my girls.
Strolling to the gate, I crack it open so they have to exit in single file where I can touch each one as they amble past me into the golden grey light of morning to graze on the three-hundred and forty acres I bought on a loan right out of college. When my grandfather passed he left all of us boys enough that I was able to pay that off.
I always wanted this life.
It’s a lot of work running a healthy farm, but it’s soul soothing for a man like me.
Lots of quiet. Lots of hands-on labor.
It’s the reason I was in shape enough to go all night with Rachel, since gyms bore the shit out of me.
Rachel.
Shading my eyes as I gaze west, I try to see her walking around through my bedroom window. She’s probably still dreaming.
I don’t know what’s about to happen, especially since I’m not altogether clear on what I want. Never planned this.
In Georgia you have screen doors because the bugs’ll try and fly away with you if you give them a chance. I’ve got two screens, one for the enclosed patio, the other for my house, which I have to get fixed. Missing the lever that is supposed to keep it from slamming, it hits the doorframe hard behind me.
With the noise having woken her, Rachel calls down in a sleepy voice from the bedroom, “Jaxson?”
“I’m here!” I reassure her. “I’m just gonna make some coffee.”
She calls down, voice losing steam, “Not yet. Come back.”
“Be right up.”
Washing my hands in the kitchen sink, I turn and set my cowboy hat on an antique, bare-wood chair. Staring out the window for about five minutes I obsess all over again about what comes next with us.
Fucking New York City of
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