Status Updates From You Can Count On Me (Christ...

Their kid! Hubby?! Ahhhh

“Let me take care of you,” Trent commanded. I whined. He sounded fucked-out and horny. “I take good care of my things, Miley-baby.” / his things .. lord have mercy

“Got you.” Trent’s voice was a triumphant growl as he snagged his arms around my waist and tossed me over his shoulder for the second time that day. 👌🏻💯 // yep, I approve.

I could still feel the imprints of his fingers on my hips. His grip had been possessive and demanding as he’d flipped me over onto my stomach and immediately began sucking kisses against the back of my neck. / 🔥👌🏻👨‍❤️‍👨🌶️👅🤭💯 finally teh slow burn comes to an end

He was the same man who listened to raunchy audiobooks with a straight face. And the same man who had whispered between fevered kisses at the lookout just how badly he wanted to be hunted just like the character in the book he’d shown me had been.

I was not, by nature, a jealous person myself so I didn’t understand the emotion firsthand. But I’d certainly read enough books where the alpha male got all posture-y and growly about it and…wow. This was my reality now. Sexy alpha male. Jealous. Over me!

🥹👨‍❤️‍👨

He was light. With his snort-laughs, his lemon cookies, and the audiobooks he always paused when I came into the room. / 🥹🥰🥹🥰🥹

then shuffled us till I was crowded against the back of the couch, the cushion to my belly, his bulk guarding me from behind. Laying side by side like this the few inches I had on him didn’t matter anymore. He was wider than I was, thicker too. / 👌🏻🔥

This man who hurried to hop out of the truck and bolt around the front to open my door for me. This man was not the same man who had taken me on a date and unknowingly crushed my heart. 💗

I checked him out, slow and easy. Broad shoulders. A tight cow print sweater stretched across his ample chest. That tiny as hell little waist. Those long, long legs, muscles flexing in jeans that looked painted on. / 😮‍💨

Man I LOVE Trent’s inner dirty minded voice 🤭🤭👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

If I’d been a better man, and a better friend, I wouldn’t have checked out his ass as it jiggled when he walked. But…Jesus had said love thy neighbor, hadn’t he? / 🤭🥰/ I wanted to sing odes to his ass while I worshiped it outside and in. His tight little waist twisted as he ducked into the kitchen, and I swallowed, sending a quick prayer up to the Heavens. “Lord have mercy.” / 🔥

Every time I looked at his almost bow-legged swagger my hole twitched and trembled, aching for him to notice how bad I needed him to fuck me. To own me. To dominate me like I was a bitch in heat, and he couldn’t stop himself from taking what was his. 😮‍💨🔥

I had the ungodly urge to climb onto his lap—despite my size—and hide my face inside his neck. I had a feeling I’d be safe there. I had a feeling, wrapped in Trent Montgomery’s capable arms, my demons wouldn’t feel quite so close. I’d find my balance. 🥹💗

My teeth ached to bite him, and my dick pulsed as I imagined what it would feel like to grind against his big bouncy ass as I dominated him. There was nothing hotter than overpowering someone bigger than me. Not that I’d gotten to do that, considering the fact I was about as big as most men came. 👌🏻💯👌🏻💯👌🏻💯

For the weeks it took the leaves to tremble and fall, Rooster Johnson was all I could think about. Every day in early October I woke up, headed off to work—whether that was at the farm or helping Paxton and Becca with general contracting—and thought about my neighbor. 🤭💯🥹🥹

I’d never manhandled someone like that outside of sex before. Never felt inclined to protect, or save—or soothe anyone. Never wanted to prove myself. I was all about instant gratification, not big green doe eyes and adoration. But god. I could not stop thinking about Rooster. 🥹🔥💯

Sunlight streamed through the window, lighting Rooster up like an angel. His broad shoulders flexed as he stirred something on the stove that smelled like a wet dream. A white t-shirt was pulled taut across his frame, highlighting leagues and leagues of gorgeous muscle. / 😏😏😏😏😏

I realized the deep-as-sin fuck-me-please-sir voice had, in fact, come from none other than Rooster Johnson himself. // that’s Stephen Dexter for ya 🤭🤭🤭🤭 // “that fucking voice”

Yeeeees 💯💯

“C’mon.” Trent jerked his head at me, and I immediately snapped to attention, following after him dutifully 👌🏻🔥

What was I going to say? Sorry I flipped the table and spilled the dinner you paid for but I didn’t eat down my shirt and now you have to wait for me? I swear I’m not as dumb as a sack of hammers. Oh, and—sorry for not talking to you the entire fucking night. It’s because I like you. Obviously. // oh baby 😩😩😩😩🥹

I didn’t know how badly I’d fucked up at first. Not until the moment Trent Montgomery had stepped onto my porch and I realized I was about to fucking disappoint the man I’d been half in love with since the day I saw his sunny smile for the first time. // 😩 poor baby !!!!

Rooster was probably the only guy in town bigger than me and my brothers, which shouldn’t have made me squirm the way it did—but hey! I had a type. Big. Masculine. Sweaty. It wasn’t my fault my ideal kind of man would rather punch me in the face than pull their pants down and let me stick my cock in their ass.

Sweat beaded at his temple as he wobbled on his feet, long lashes casting shadows across his cheeks as he waited for…permission? God, that made me hard.