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  Davis

  Bro-Country Men - Book #2

  By Ingrid Harrison

  Dedicated to Bro-Country artists

  Keep writing those songs, inspiring me with your words of love, so achingly told by those men of bro-country genre. I eagerly await your next single, touching so many of us, in so many different ways.

  Thank you for the inspiration!

  PROLOGUE -Steph

  Six months earlier

  I was shivering as I sat atop my bed, glancing again at the clock. Me, Stephanie Marks, anticipating Davis’s arrival in my room, the thought causing flutters inside my stomach, as if the nerves were twitching in excitement.

  It wasn’t as if I was expecting Davis to finally look at me, and realize I was beautiful or anything like that. I knew he liked me; enjoyed my company even, but I didn’t sense any over the top emotions running through his body. Well, not about me, I thought with a grimace.

  No, I had sensed no change in him whatsoever in the last few months. The only change was within me. At first, I thought the anticipation I had always felt about him was because his personality and aura seemed larger than life, and he had this zest for life that showed in all that he did. I enjoyed him, that was all, I told myself. But I was wrong.

  He could be talking about something mundane as laundry, or lazing back watching TV, and there was this feeling of compressed energy about him that seemed to seep into anyone around him. Perhaps it was his true enjoyment of life or his positive upbeat attitude that seemed to surround him that people naturally gravitated to.

  I knew I shouldn’t have these feelings for him. I had tried to deny their existence, I really had, but my heart knew he was the one. He was the only man I had ever met who had the ability to make me ache with longing stronger than I had ever felt before.

  And I had dated a lot in high school, even going steady with Eddie, a guy in my class, for over 6 months in my sophomore year, so I knew how it felt to fall for a guy. I had dated a few men when I first started college too, but none of them inspired the depth of feeling I was now experiencing with Davis. Thankfully, Davis had no idea how I felt. No one did.

  I heard the rattle of my door handle announcing his arrival in my room before he poked his head around the door. His face had a large grin as he said, “Can I come in?”

  I smiled back at him, nodding as I moved over on the bed, making room for him. As I watched him saunter over, I couldn’t help looking at his body. The sleep pants he wore were so loose they appeared in jeopardy of slipping off his narrow hips, the tied string hanging down between his legs the only thing holding the pants up.

  Just then, he stretched raising his arms in the air, and I felt my breath hitch as his lower stomach was exposed for a moment, along with a darker patch of hair that arrowed sharply beneath the waist band of his sleep pants.

  My fingers twitched as I imagined stroking the curling hair, curious if the hair there was as soft as it looked. I forced my eyes up, afraid to be caught staring and looked up his chest, so much larger and wider than his waist, outlined against his t-shirt.

  The t-shirt looked old, the picture on the front faded and the fabric thin and threadbare in places. I was certain I could see the darkness of his skin through the fabric. I moved my eyes to his arms, so thick and corded with muscle, the black of his tattoo dark and running the length of his arm.

  I hadn’t ever thought tattoos were sexy but on him, it gave the illusion of a bad boy image that clashed with what I knew of Davis. Admittedly, it wasn’t much.

  We met several years ago, when our parents began dating. I really didn’t get to see very much of him until after our parent’s married, and my mom Amanda and I moved into her new husband Gil Dean’s house that I saw Davis, and even then, only occasionally.

  I was still in high school, and wasn’t home much with my schedule hectic with drill team practices most evenings and weekends typically spent at my best friend Marcy’s house. Davis was already in college, and lived on campus, only stopping by at home briefly.

  When I did see him, he would stop by so briefly, always lots of teasing and laughing, before he was off again. This was one of the first times in a long time he was staying for longer than a night. He had already been here almost a week, and it looked like he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

  “Are you daydreaming again, Steph?” he mocked with a teasing grin as he reached across the bed, snatching the pillow behind me, brushing his hand against my arm purposefully in a pushy way, causing me to wobble as I sat there on the far side of the bed, my legs crossed.

  I scrunched my nose at him at his playful push and I reached out a hand, tugging on the pillow. “That’s mine,” I said as I tugged the pillow back playfully.

  He easily pulled out of my fingers, laying it on top of the pillow that was already on his side of the bed, before he sat back on the bed, sitting partially up, using the pillows as a sort of back rest.

  “Not anymore,” he smirked, glancing at me sideways. I saw his eyes squint and looking down my body briefly before he turned his head away from me.

  I swallowed glancing down briefly at my night clothes. I always wore sleep shorts and a sleep shirt, and honestly hadn’t given any thought to what I was wearing tonight, but I frowned as I noticed the shorts left my legs completely bare and the sleep top was a little too big and was gaping open below my chin, the neckline stretched from multiple washings.

  Perhaps I was showing too much skin, but nothing less than I would have worn on a summer day. Pushing thoughts of his brief glance at my body away, I lifted my chin.

  “So Mom said you’re here for another week at least,” I asked hesitantly watching as he fiddled with the string to his waist band.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed, turning on his side facing me. “Figured I could save some money on motels until my apartment is available, and spend some time with Dad before I move.”

  Davis was finally moving to Nashville, Tennessee, his music career starting to blossom. “It just makes sense to be where the action is.”

  He looked at me, the corners of his mouth lifting. “I got a meeting with Unity; the record label I am hoping will sign me, in about two weeks. I want to be moved in and settled before then.”

  He had already put out his first album several years ago, but Davis felt Unity would be a better fit for his career.

  I smiled at him, but before I could respond, he leaned his head back against the pillows looking at the ceiling. “I just want it so bad, Steph,” he admitted earnestly. “It just feels like it’s not happening fast enough, you know?”

  I could tell he was agitated, as I watched him roll on his side facing me again. “It might be too slow for your liking, but it is happening, and that has got to feel good,” I said softly touching his arm.

  “You’re right, but it’s driving me crazy! I feel this pent up energy, and it keeps me up, you know?” He grabbed my hand tugging me down.

  I laugh as I tumbled down, and watched as he scooted over, patting the pillow, as if offering a spot for my head.

  I lay facing him, my head sinking into the pillow as he continued, “Thank God I have you. I can at least talk to you,” he said quietly, and the warmth of his breath against my face smelled of mint and a hint of a musky scent I can’t identify. “If I didn’t have you, the nights here would be hell.”

  His words cause a feather of sensation to creep up my back as I sank heavier into the bedding. He and I spent the late night hours talking as our parents tended to go to bed early, where Davis and I tended to go to bed later. It meant that we had gravitated towards each other, both of us happy with the company.

  “What do you do at night when I’m not here to talk to?” I asked in a soft voice, and almost immediately realize my mistake.

  One side of
his mouth quirks upwards He said huskily, “There’s always a soft woman to lose myself in then, and who needs to talk, right?”

  I could feel the heat on my cheeks as I listen to him, feeling like a dolt. I knew he had a lot of women friends. I had heard his Dad telling my Mom that he wasn’t ready to settle down, that he was enjoying his freedom too much.

  “How come you never bring your women friends home to meet us?” I ask curiously. I had never met a girlfriend of Davis’s in all the time I had lived here.

  He snorted. “Sweetheart, I’m not with them long enough to get to know them well enough for that.”

  It took a moment before I understood what he meant, and I felt my face heat up as understanding dawned on me.

  I didn’t notice his hand until it touched my hot cheek, the pads of his fingers softly stroking over the reddened skin. “God, you blush so easily,” he chortled.

  His words only made my face hotter and I lifted my head, trying to push his hand away with my face, even though the feel of his fingers on me caused a tingle to start in the pit of my stomach.

  DAVIS

  Jesus, she was so sweet, I thought as my thumb softly brushed against the softest skin I have ever felt. I could feel the heat coming off her face from the influx of blood, and it caused my fingers to feel overly sensitive.

  How does she come off so innocent and naïve when I knew she was 20 and had dated often? Hell, I had met some of the guys that had taken her out. No way she didn’t have a clue about sex, but she sure as hell acted the innocent.

  I watched as her pink tongue came out stroking across her bottom lip before her teeth bit down hard, causing the lip to plump out.

  Christ, she always did that. Didn’t she know when a man saw an attractive woman doing that, they automatically wanted to do the same to them, replacing her teeth with their own?

  She raised a hand and pushed lightly against my chest, saying with a frown, “you do that just to embarrass me, don’t you?’

  I released her cheek and grabbed her hand, pressing it against my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, my enjoyment of her hard to hide. “I can’t resist. Can I help it if woman want me?” I teased and watched as she rolled her eyes, tugging to get her hand back.

  “Cocky, aren’t you?” she said primly.

  I laughed, holding on tight to her hand. “Oh, so now you want to talk about my cock?”

  An expression of amazement flashed across her face, her cheeks responding with the influx of blood again but it was the short gasp she made that intrigued me. We were lying so close together, I felt the heat of her breath from that gasp on my cheek, and I scrutinized her face, watching as her eyes darkened.

  Christ, I should have gotten laid today, I thought, as I saw desire flash in her eyes but it was covered up so quickly, I wasn’t sure if what I saw was accurate.

  “Davis, stop teasing me,” she said huskily, and I felt her words go through me causing my cock to twitch. Shit, I could close my eyes right now and picture me tempting her with my mouth, my fingers, and her saying those words to me.

  With contempt at my thoughts, I roll towards her and start tickling her at her waist, “You mean tease you like this?” I say laughing as she starts writhing away from my hands, trying to buck her hips at me to dislodge me from her.

  Her face was wreathed in smiles, her laughter choked from her as she tried to roll away from me. I swung my leg out, trying to halt her progress, pulling her back towards me. I loved hearing her giggles, and when her knee rose up sharply, she just missed my junk, hitting high on my thigh instead.

  “Hey, that’s playing dirty,” I laughed as I tried to put my legs over her legs, to insure she didn’t hit her mark. Both sets of our hands were now over our heads, my hands holding hers up. When I felt like I had her trapped, I looked up grinning at her and I could tell she wasn’t done fighting yet.

  “You give?” I asked arrogantly, and I saw the fierceness of her eyes, and when she lifted her head, as if measuring what she would hit if she swung it up hard, I went into defensive mode and pressed my face into her neck, cutting off any chance of her head striking out at mine.

  I could feel her struggles lessening, probably because I couldn’t tickle her anymore with my hands holding her above our head and I took a deep breath, and that’s when I smelled it. It was like crushed flower petals and oranges combined, and I couldn’t resist burying my nose in her hair.

  I inhaled deeply, and felt pleasure suffuse me. The feel of her body beneath mine, the heat of her neck against my mouth and the smell of crushed flowers surrounding us, I felt arousal for her, causing my body to clench over hers.

  She half-heartedly tried to buck me off, her hips swinging up into me and the feel of her against my cock made me bite back a groan.

  Fuck, she felt good, I thought as desire for her swirled around my head. I guess I forgot for a moment who was beneath me as I pressed my lips to the hot skin of her neck, arching my back, pressing my erection against her thigh. I didn’t snap out of it until my tongue touched the skin of her neck, the taste of her on my tongue.

  Damn, I thought, as I rolled off of her quickly, mumbling, “I gotta pee.” I left her room, heading to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  “Damn it,” I thought in frustration, splashing cold water on my face. What the hell was I thinking?

  As I dried off my face with the towel, I assured myself that I just needed to get laid. It wasn’t her, it could have been anyone and my body would have responded accordingly.

  When I went back into her room, I looked at her hesitantly but she didn’t seem to sense anything had changed between us, and internally I sighed in relief. Tomorrow night, I promised myself, I would find a woman to take the edge off, and rid myself of some of this compressed energy I felt before I even thought about entering her room again.

  “Hey,” I said as I walked in the room, “I want to run some verses by you, see what you think?” Grabbing a pad of paper from her night stand and a pen, I leaned back against the pillows, notlooking directly at her as I jotted down a couple of verses I was playing around with.

  Whatever makes us country – Luke Bryan

  CHAPTER 1 -Steph

  It was happening again. Why did they put that damned song in the juke box anyways? It was bad enough, hearing that song when I was in the privacy of my car or home, but now I had to listen to it when I was at work too. It was happening more and more lately.

  I tried to stop gritting my teeth, but it was hard. Sure, it was a good song, with a beat that was strong, the verses speaking of a desire so aching, the singer sounded truly broken up. It was the sound of his voice that always did it for me. It always had, I thought with a snort.

  Davis Dean, the singer of the current song, was rising in popularity with his breakaway hit, With You. His popularity among the country genre had really started to take off because of that song, and I was happy for his new found success. He deserved it, with all the hard work and effort he had put forth in the last several years.

  “Hey, Steph, do you think we can get some drink orders taken or what?” the bartender barked, frustration apparent in his tone.

  I raised my hand to him, acknowledging his request, and started working the floor at Pops Tavern. I waitressed here normally three nights a week and tonight was particularly busy. It was no surprise, what with the festival in town it seemed everyone wanted to stop in tonight after the festivities.

  Since I had worked here in the last few months, I had never seen this place so packed with people. All the tables were taken, and still people came in, choosing to stand and drink since no tables were available.

  It was crazy. I would have bought a bottle and gone home rather than hang out in a place so full of people, since it was obvious the A/C couldn’t keep up.

  I felt my shoulders begin to relax, the closing bars of the song marking the end of the song. Whatever happened to the old juke boxes that had the same selection of records, seemingly never changing?

/>   In today’s more high tech era, records were a thing of the past. Even CDs weren’t put inside the juke box anymore. Nope, now they just downloaded the new music. Thanks to the internet, any song that was out there could be played, as long as the bar owner subscribed to that service.

  And honestly, why wouldn’t you subscribe to the monthly service? When your establishment was targeted for the twentysomething crowd, not having top forty hits in the juke box would be a waste.

  I swirled around suddenly, when I felt a slap on my ass, seeing a good looking guy with curly blonde hair was eyeing me with a come hither look that frankly turned my stomach. Sighing, I leaned in to the would-be lothario, smiling seductively at him.

  I saw his face brightened, when I drawled, “Sweetheart, if you want a piece of this action, you need to work on your pick up moves.”

  Turning around, I walked away, flipping my long brown hair and swaying my hips in a sashay I had perfected in the last few months working here. I stopped at a table nearby, cleaning up the empty glasses and bottles, and taking drink orders, the guy already forgotten.

  Working in this environment, you had to be prepared for guys to hit on you. I hated it, but the nicer I was, the bigger the tips, and the bigger the tips, the less I had to work here. So, in my line of thinking, you wanted the customers to like you, right?

  But that didn’t mean I had to like it. I suppose I had everyone here fooled. Even Bailey, the other waitress working the floor with me, thought I took these losers home with me.

  I didn’t care what anyone thought. I knew who I was, and what I did, and really, it wasn’t anyone’s business but mine. Let them think whatever they wanted.

  It was ironic, because just last week Bailey was asking me advice on dating and sex. I had a hard time keeping my face straight, because she was definitely asking the wrong person.

  Sure, I flirted, and there were times I found a guy particularly attractive, but it really was just an act. My heart just wasn’t in it. But I was hopeful that a guy would come along that my heart was into, because the one I had fallen for was off limits to me.