Lush (The King Cousins Book 1) (The King Brothers 4) by K.D. Elizabeth

Author:K.D. Elizabeth [Elizabeth, K.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vivre Libre Media
Published: 2021-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

After we stop at Rory’s house—who supplies Jude with a set of work clothes and boots—Axel puts us to work on the farm. Most of the remaining employees are still cleaning up from the fire, so Axel requests that Jude and I actually harvest.

I spent many a day during my childhood harvesting, so this is nothing new to me, but Jude surprisingly gets into it.

“Can I be the one to climb the ladder?” she asks excitedly, then climbs the thing without waiting for me to reply.

I laugh and stare up at her. The sun shines down through the trees, creating a brilliant halo around her cowboy hat-clad head. Jude’s hair isn’t as stick-straight as it usually is. In fact, it’s slightly wavy. It softens her somehow, making her appear more real, less like the usual hard-ass corporate type.

It occurs to me that she must use that thing women have to make their hair really straight. That means she deliberately makes it so. As with everything else in her life, Jude tries to control her hair as totally, as completely, as every other aspect of her life. Probably because she tried to control her brother’s impulsivity and failed.

And today, she’s let her hair go, because she spent the night in my bed.

I swallow hard, an almost feral satisfaction taking hold. I want to keep her all messy like that. All soft and warm and willing in my hands.

“So which peaches are the ones you like?”

“Huh?” I say.

Jude glances down at me. “Which peaches make good ones to use for Old Abe’s?”

“The really squishy, almost-rotten ones,” I say absently, staring at her plump ass hovering inches above my face.

“So like these?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sure …”

Something wet suddenly splats on my chest. My gaze jerks away from her ass. She’s laughing at me. I look down, groaning at the messy peach smeared all over my chest.

“Seriously?” I grumble. “This is one of my favorite shirts.”

“Yes, this is obviously a huge problem,” she says.

I roll my eyes, but then she steps down the ladder and tosses her bucket of peaches on the ground. A particular light flickers in her eyes.

I freeze, my shirt forgotten. I know that expression. It appears whenever I’m inside her.

“Jude …” I say slowly.

She stalks toward me, hips swaying. “Wow. So dirty,” she purrs, flicking the peach bits off my chest.

“What are you doing?” I croak.

Her gaze snaps to mine. “You know, I recall you saying you were going to do something to me yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She slips her hands under my shirt and begins drawing it up my body. My muscles clench in anticipation as her fingers glide over them. I haven’t the slightest idea what she’s about, but I’m already half-hard because of it.

“Yes. I recall you telling me I was going to be fucked silly. And you know what?”

I lift my arms so she can draw my shirt over my head and pitch it on the ground.

She trails her nails down my chest, staring up at me devilishly. “I’m feeling decidedly unsilly.

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