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"I'm still so wet for you," I tell him.

He grins. "Yeah?" he says.

I nod. "Is that bad?"

He shakes his head. "No, it's sexy."

"Yeah?" I ask. “You tell the boys at work about me? All the ranch hands?”

He laughs. "What do you think I’d say?"

"Oh, I don't know, that you have some hot new thing, a side piece?"

"Oh, you're no side piece."

I lick my lips. "I'm not? What am I?"

"Oh, you're the whole fucking thing. The whole shebang."

"The whole kit and caboodle?" I ask.

"I love it when you say that phrase."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What else do you like?" I ask, teasing his cock with my mouth. My lips wrap him up, sucking him up and down. "You like that too?" I moan against him.

He groans. "Fuck, baby, I love it."

I begin to suck him harder, up and down. I love to get him off. I know he likes it too. He smacks my ass and drags me closer, moving my ass to his mouth so he can grind his mouth against my pussy.

I love it when we get off like this. And he begins to lick my pussy as I suck his cock. He drags my ass to his mouth. His chiseled jaw licking my cunt up and down. Nice and good. I'm so wet for him, juicy and slick. And he knows it. I feel him move against me. And I suck his cock until I know he's about to burst.

"You like that, baby?" I moan, fondling his balls as he's about to explode in my mouth. I love it when his cum slides down my throat and I'm ready for his ribbons of cum to release. I suck him harder and harder. And he slaps my ass, sucking me so nice and good. His tongue deep inside me. He adds a finger then another until I can barely breathe.

I'm moaning, deep, deeper. Writhing nice and hard until both of us are spent, until we're nothing but orgasm. One release after another. Slick and wet. Sliding against each other. One. Deliciously slippery. Salvation. We get off, delirious, drunk, a happy elixir, a morning tonic that cures more than a hangover. We are in love.

I roll into his arms and he cradles me. “So, that was a good way to start the weekend.”

We have several hours until he needs to be at his mom's. And it's my favorite part of the day. Of course, we've only had a few of these, but still, I savor them and I can cross my fingers and my toes that no dogs or humans vomit on this sacred morning that we have.

So he says, "I have a few surprises."

"Surprises?" I say.

"Yeah," he says, "a few."

"Like what?"

"Well, first of all," he says, "I have some news." He pulls out his phone. "I got you an audition for America’s Got Back."

I frown, "America what?"

"Look," he says, "It's a new reality TV show. If you get on the show, you go on tour. It's around the world for 180 days. And every week you're in a different city doing a live performance. It's pretty amazing. You could get a record deal, a contract, a whole thing. If you audition, you could–"

"I don't want to audition for that," I say.

"Why not?" he says. "You're so talented."

"You've heard me sing a handful of times."

"I know, but–"

"No buts," I say, "I would never go on that show."

"Why, you're too good for it?"

"No," I scoff.

"You said you wanted to be on a show like that before–"

"What? Before my mom went to jail?" I sit up in bed, frustrated.

"Well, yeah? Before the kids and–"

I reach for my clothes, suddenly not liking the way this morning has turned out at all.

"Paisley, you love to sing. It was your whole dream, your whole passion in life, your–"

"Yeah, and then things changed. I don't want that anymore. I have other passions, other priorities, my family is my priority. I can't go on a 180-day tour."

"Well, you could get help. I could help, other people could."

"I don't want you to, this is my family. This is my job."

"I know, but I could be your family. We could get married."

"Even if we did get married, I don't want to leave. Not now. Not when Granger's in fourth grade. I want to watch him at his baseball games. I don't want to miss Sarah Jo's piano recitals. Not so I could go on some tour. I wouldn't want to miss out on those parts of their lives so that I could do what? Go on stage in fricking Amsterdam? No, thank you. This is my life. Here. The Ranch Lands."

"You'd want to miss out on a performance in Amsterdam so–"

"Yes, Holt. This is my whole world. Maybe in fifteen years when everyone's grown up and things are different, I’ll have a change of heart and I’ll be able to explore or want to explore this opportunity. But right now, this is where I want to be. Maybe there's ways to pursue my music here in the Ranch Lands. But if it takes me away from this place, I'm not interested." I swallow. "I'm really frustrated that you would even put my name on an application without asking me."


Tags: Frankie Love Romance