Brock woke feeling guilty as hell, but almost too relaxed to give a damn. His body was limp as a dishrag, but his cock was hard as iron. When he opened his eyes, he spied long black hair draped over the shapely back in front of him. Payton.

Thoughts of what they had done drifted back into his consciousness. His dick already remembered, and apparently knew how close he was to nirvana, because her beautiful ass was pressed into his lap. His hand already cupped her breast.

Flashes of their lovemaking flitted through his mind. Payton had, quite literally, rocked his world. He'd never in his life been with a woman more exciting, and giving, in bed. Her smallest movements had triggered his pleasure. Even going down on her had been pleasurable to him, feeling all her little movements and cries.

But the most important part of what they had done was the 'I love you' she had given him before they'd even started.

Brock had heard that before from other women, but something about the way Payton had looked when she'd said it had revealed the truth in what she said. Other women used the phrase as a tool. Payton told him because she wanted him to know and knew he needed to hear it.

It was so hypocritical of him. He wanted her love, but he wasn't prepared to tell her the same.

Her body shifted against his erection, subtly sliding up his length. His hand tightened on her breast and she turned her head enough to look at him.

Brock wasn't sure what he expected to see, but he was glad she wasn't aggravated at him for anything. She grinned and twisted enough to give him an awkward kiss, then she tossed the sheet away. Lifting her top leg at an angle, she arched her ass back against his dick, easily taking him inside her.

Groaning, he tightened his hand on her breast for a moment, before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her tight against his lap. Once again, she was soaked, her body ready for his. Her elevated leg came down, sealing them together.

Brock couldn't move a lot in this position, but he didn't need to. She was so tight around him, and he could feel every ripple and texture of her on the inside.

Condom.

"I'm not wearing a condom," he gasped.

"That's all right. I'm good. Don't you dare pull out."

Brock gritted his teeth at the surge of arousal her words brought. Since he'd been a teenager, he'd always worn a condom when he was with a woman. And if it had been any other woman but Payton, he would have pulled out in spite of her words and sheathed himself.

But if she said she was protected, he would believe her.

Brock's body surged, feeling naked and over sensitized. The wet heat of her would pull a climax from him quickly. He needed to get her there too.

Releasing her waist, he angled his fingers down along her body. It was too tight. She lifted her leg so that he could wedge his hand down low, a finger in her wetness. As he pressed her lower body tighter to his with his hand, his finger bumped against her swollen clitoris with their movements.

Working his second arm beneath them, he pulled them as tight together as he could. This wasn't an easy position but his need for her would make it work. His dick burrowed deep, bottoming out.

Payton gasped and arched into him even harder. Then she rolled her upper body forward, pushing against the mattress to get them even tighter together. Following her lead, shifting over top of her, Brock pulled her hips up with one arm, bracing himself on his knees. They were as tight together as they could possibly get and he rocked into her hard. Payton reached down to touch herself and he almost came then, but he forced his body into submission. She needed to come first. With a few frantic strokes she climaxed, screaming.

His hips smacked against hers and he released the hold he had on himself. With a mighty roar, he came, his body draining into hers.

It took a long time for the aftershocks to still. Her body rippled for a solid minute and every time she did, his over-sensitized cock quivered.

"I think you're trying to kill me," he said finally.

Payton giggled and squeezed her internal muscles. Brock gasped and arched into her, though he was going flaccid.

"I think you could make me come just by doing that," he told her softly.

"We might have to try that, then."

She crawled out from beneath his weight, her ass looking pink and delectable. "Come shower with me, Brock."

It took a lot of energy, but he wasn't going to miss that invitation. Pushing from the bed, he followed along after her.

---

They made love several times that night, until they were both too sore to move. In the wee hours of the morning, they got up and raided her fridge, looking for food. Payton turned on the griddle and made them grilled cheeses.

If she could've envisioned the way the night would go, this was definitely not it. Brock turned into a more than solicitous lover, ensuring her needs were met first every single time. Payton could never have imagined what a wonderful lover he turned out to be.

And everything she did, every movement she made, seemed to arouse him. It was a very flattering feeling, being the focus of this man's attention.

After the sandwiches, he helped her change the sheets on the bed and they curled up together. There was a naturalness to the way they made love and connected. So much so that Brock seemed taken aback.

She was very aware that he hadn't actually said the words she yearned to hear, but he had shown her in every other way that he loved her.

"I wanted to re-invite you to the potluck tomorrow," Brock whispered into the dark. "Or today, I guess. That was why I came over."

Calloused fingers brushed over her shoulders, tickling her skin. She lay on her front, her head turned to the side to watch him. "Of course, I'll go with you. Are you sure this time?"

He nodded once, running his fingers down the length of her spine to the crack of her ass. "Positive. The most important people in my life know about us. I don't care what anyone else says."

The sun was just beginning to lighten the room. They'd played and loved and slept all night, and they still couldn't quit touching each other. It was as if once they'd finally given in, they were all in. There was no hesitation, no restriction.

"I probably need to go back to the ranch for a while," he murmured eventually.

"Okay," she agreed. "And I guess I should do laundry. Or something. Figure out what I'm going to take to the potluck."

None of that held any interest. All she wanted was to bask in his presence, or fondle his body. Brock had given the most amazing little groan when she'd gone down on him earlier. She wanted to see what other sounds she could make him do.

Her own throat was raw from talking and orgasming all night, and her body throbbed even now.

"Maybe if we work for a while, we can run to the Oasis later to get refreshed."

He grinned at her, obviously loving the idea. "That sounds perfect."

So less than an hour later, they parted on her porch with kisses, then more final kisses. Brock physically had to force his legs to walk away. Payton shut the door behind him.

It was even harder to drive away from her. His body was absolutely drained. Literally, he doubted he could make love again right now. But he craved her touch. He'd never been with a woman who so obviously cared for him like she did or made him want to take care of her.

Brock went home to the main house and showered, changing his clothes. Grabbing a turkey and cheese sandwich for breakfast, he headed out to start his day.

Work was tedious in the extreme. There were a list of things that needed done, but he didn't feel like tackling anything on it. Brock worked a few two-year olds in the round pen, but couldn't concentrate on any of them long enough. He went into the wild barn and sat for a while, but apparently they could feel his tumultuous mood, because the mustangs stayed far away from him. Brock checked the time on his phone repeatedly. They had agreed to meet at one o'clock, which was hours away.

Was his need to be with her normal? Was this what it was like to be in love? He'd ask Jackson if he didn't think it would hurt the man's feelings.

Would it be too weird to ask his brother? Why not, actually. Chad was about to get married. He had to know what love felt like.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he sent Chad a message. He called back almost immediately.

Brock winced as he opened the line. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"Nah," Chad laughed. "I'm just debating what to eat for lunch. What's up, big brother?"

Brock didn't know how to go about asking what he needed to know. Best to just spit it out, he supposed. "How do you know if you're in love?"

The words sounded ridiculous coming out of his mouth and he regretted calling instantly. Especially calling his little brother. "Never mind. I'll figure it out."

"Wait, wait," Chad called. "Are you talking in general? Or do you have someone specific in mind?"

Brock turned to lean against the fence. He thought he'd bared himself enough for now. "In general."

"Well," Chad sighed, sounding a little disappointed. "In general, you can't get enough of them. You love the way they talk, the things they talk about. They strike you as intelligent. You can see spending the rest of your life with them."

Uh oh.

"You count down the hours until you can see them again, and the sex isn't just sex anymore. It's making love."

Well, shit. He'd just listed every single thing Brock was feeling today.

"And love will make you second-guess yourself more than any other emotion. It will literally drive you insane if you let it."

Brock chuckled in spite of himself. "You’re not lyin'."

"But if you do it right," his little bro continued, "it can be the most amazing thing in the world. I never expected to find love. Especially not with my fucked up hand. You can't hide that. And the amputation. I knew it would take an incredible woman to accept all of me. And Lora has. Now, to be sure, we both have baggage, but nothing we can't deal with together."

They fell quiet for a moment.

"Does that sound like what you're feeling?"

"Yes. To a damn T."

Chad chuckled. "Then I wish you luck. Any chance I might know the girl?"

Brock pinched the bridge of his nose with his spare hand. In for a penny in for a pound. "Payton."

"Yes!" Chad hissed. "I thought so."

Brock frowned. Had everyone seen through them?

"You knew too?"

"Well, not exactly. Lora said something when we were there for the round up about what beautiful babies you and Payton would have together. I've been thinking about it ever since."

Well, fuck. That had just sent his brain in a completely different direction. Lora was right, though. They would have beautiful babies. Maybe way, way down the road.

He had so much to think about.

"Okay, I have to go. Thanks for answering my questions."

"Hey, Brock, don't go yet. I have something to ask you. I was going to call you later today, but you beat me to it."

Brock could hear Chad take a deep breath. He sighed, waiting for some smart-ass comment.

"I know we haven't always gotten along, but I appreciated our talk a couple weeks ago. Anyway, I wondered, would you be my best man at the wedding?"

The world stilled and Brock pulled the phone from his ear. Surely he hadn't heard that right. "What?"

"I said… would you be the best man at my wedding?"

Emotion gripped him by the throat and he looked out over the range, blinking the tears from his eyes. "What about your buddies down there?"

"Well, they're my friends, and they'll be in the wedding party, but I only have one brother."

His nose clogged with snot as he tried to control his emotions. Never in a million years had he expected this. "Yes, I will, Chad. It will be my honor."

"Damn, dude, you had me worried for a minute there," his brother laughed. "I appreciate it. I really do. It's going to be a special day."

"It sure will."

It took Brock a long time to recover from that call. He stared out over the grassland and thought about their lives to this point. Even though he'd been a shit to Chad, they were still blood. He'd apologized for his behavior, but he hadn't thought Chad had forgiven him so completely.

Brock thought about the list of small, medium, and major chores he had yet to accomplish before the wedding. What exactly was a best man supposed to do anyway?