Teacher's Troublemaker (Culpepper Cowboys Book 4) Read online

  Teacher’s Troublemaker

  Culpepper Cowboys Book 4

  Merry Farmer

  Contents

  Copyright

  Foreword

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2016 by Merry Farmer

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)

  Foreword

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  Introduction

  Her whole life, Chastity Quinlan has dreamed of NOT living up to her name. But now that she is free of her parents' iron rule, ready to say "I do" to Chris Culpepper, it looks like all that is about to change....

  Chris Culpepper is more than happy to marry fun and feisty Chastity. He's looking forward to helping her obliterate the implication of her name. But if it's not one thing (*cough* wool allergy) it's another (*double cough* teeth marks).

  But with all the sexual energy flying around, the true strength of Chastity and Chris's coupling may not be between the sheets. Each of them have dreams that they've left behind, thanks to pressure from their family. Now, with their powers combined, they may just find the courage to pursue those dreams, in spite of the odds stacked against them.

  1

  Chastity Quinlan was a virgin. Still.

  “Ugh,” she snorted as she sat at one end of a comfy couch in Linda Culpepper’s living room, knitting needles clicking away. “I once heard this phrase while watching a British movie over at Anne Arnold’s house when Mom thought I was studying: gagging for a shag.” Her needles paused and she whipped to face Joy, who sat at the other end of the couch, poring through a catalog of supplies for her Barbie furniture venture. “Joy. I’m gagging for a shag. Totally gagging for it.”

  “Eew. That’s gross.” Faith wrinkled her nose from where she sat across the room, snuggled in Cooper’s big, hot, masculine embrace as they watched TV.

  Chastity stuck her tongue out at her sister. “Easy for you to say. You’re getting it several times a day, if what I hear is right.”

  Faith tensed, her eyes going round with a ‘You heard that?’ sort of look.

  “What?” Cooper blinked away from the baseball game that had him so transfixed, looking around as if he’s missed something.

  Ha! Cooper wasn’t missing anything. Neither were Karlan or Kolby, Hope and Joy’s husbands, if everything that normally went on in a marriage was going on with them. They too were absorbed in the baseball game, yapping on about stats and players and stuff that Chastity didn’t give a fig about.

  She scowled and focused on her knitting, needles flying as she knit a thin tube that would be a baby sock for one of Faith’s dolls. It wasn’t that she resented her sisters for their ability to get laid at a moment’s notice if they so chose. She wasn’t even mad at Chris, the youngest Culpepper brother, who she’d been flirting with for the past two weeks—like a homecoming queen with the captain of the football team at prom. She and Chris had an understanding, and they needed to get married to fulfill the terms of the Culpepper will. But she was so horny, what with all the sexual tension from her three newly-married sisters in the room, she was going to need to sit on a towel if she wasn’t careful.

  “Where is Chris anyhow?” Linda asked as she walked into the room with a platter of sandwiches. The moment she put them on the table, baseball became the second most important thing in the room as Karlan, Cooper, and Kolby leapt from their chairs to load up on lunch.

  “You want turkey or roast beef, sweetie?” Cooper asked Faith over his shoulder.

  Faith was more interested in staring at Cooper’s assets as he bent over the plate than answering. She finally managed, “Hmm? What? Huh? Oh, turkey.”

  Cooper noticed where her eyes had landed. He grinned. He winked. He wiggled his backside. Then he popped a turkey sandwich on a plate for her, carried it back to the chair, squeezed into it with her, and planted a big, wet one on her mouth.

  “Gah.” Chastity squirmed in her seat, pouring all her energy into knitting. She’d read her fair share of sexy romance novels. Maybe more than her fair share. She couldn’t help but visualize gigantic, hard-bodied males slipping and sliding on top of—and under, and beside, and around—soft, nubile, female ones. As long as she fuzzed out the faces so that she wasn’t gawping at her sisters and brothers-in-law in her sexed-up imagination, she’d be good. But, dangit, if she didn’t get a little of that deep-tongue, hard-body action from Chris soon, she might go insane.

  “Good Lord, Chastity, what on earth are you making?”

  Linda’s snappy question and the laugh that followed yanked Chastity out of her thoughts. She glanced down at the baby sock.

  Only, it didn’t look much like a baby sock anymore. It’s started out that way, but after rows and rows of frantic, heated, energy-expending knitting, what she had in her hands was an eight-inch tube with a rounded end, flopping down from her fisted hands.

  “Oh my gosh, Chastity, did you just knit a penis?” Hope laughed as she picked up a roast beef sandwich from the plate on the coffee table.

  Chastity’s mouth dropped open. “Holy crap! I’ve just had the best idea ever.”

  “Good grief,” Joy muttered, sending Kolby a knowing look as he handed her a plate with a sandwich. “Don’t tell me it’s a penis idea.”

  “Johnson jammies!” Chastity held up her knitted tube. “Perfect for keeping the little guy warm and cozy on a cold winter’s night.”

  Her announcement was met by uncomfortable silence and awkward glances from the guys. Faith winced, Hope choked and looked away, and Joy just shook her head.

  “Uh, I don’t think keeping it warm is a problem,” Karlan muttered.

  “Yeah,” Kolby added slowly. “And you might want to make an opening at the end in case of, uh, nighttime emergencies.”

  Cooper snorted and choked around a bite of sandwich.

  “Easy to do.” Chastity turned her knitting around, studying it from different angles. “Very easy to do.”

  To do. As in doing. As in being done.

  Damn, she wanted Chris to do her bad right then.

  “Where is Chris anyhow?” she burst out.

  “I’m in here.” Chris’s muffled voice came from the laundry room at the end of the hall.

  Thank the good Lord above!

  Chastity scooted forward, stuffing her little knitting project in the big, dorky bag where she kept her yarn, and launched herself off the couch. It was time she grabbed this whole marriage thing by the balls and—

  “Hi Chris,” she murmured in her best sexy siren voice as she slipped into the laundry room. She stretched against the doorframe, raising one arm and sticking out her hip, like an old ph
oto of Marilyn Monroe she’d once seen.

  “Hi Chastity,” Chris replied, deep and throaty, totally in the spirit of seduction. His eyes smoldered, his lips twitched, and his jeans tented.

  “What’cha doin’?” Chastity batted her eyelashes, directing her gaze to Chris’s pants, wondering whether she would actually be able to see things swell.

  Chris ran his tongue along his lip, shifted his hips just so, and lifted a handful of grungy white cotton. “I’m washing my dirty underwear,” he answered as if describing how it got that way. “Seems I’ve been going through a lot of it lately.”

  “That is utterly disgusting,” Kolby called from the living room.

  “Yeah, some of us are trying to eat here,” Cooper added.

  In unison, Chris and Chastity broke down into silly laughter. Their ridiculous characters and goofy mood were broken. Chris winked at her, then turned to finish loading his whites into the washing machine. Chastity shut the laundry room door, then crossed to lean her backside against the dryer.

  “Family,” Chris chuckled. “Can’t live with ’em…”

  “Can’t live without ’em?” Chastity finished.

  Chris shrugged. “No. Mostly just can’t live with ’em.”

  She laughed and slid to the side to give him a little shoulder nudge.

  Only, there was something serious and, yeah, sad underneath his statement. Chastity’s heart strained against her ribs. Sure, she was still as hot and agitated as the dryer she leaned against, but in the last couple of weeks as she’d gotten to know Chris, she’d come to see there was a lot hiding out under his surface. His sizzling, buff, tight-assed surface.

  He added liquid detergent to the washer, put the lid loosely back on the jug, then closed the washer’s lid. After starting the cycle and setting the jug on top of the lid, he leaned against the washer, crossed his arms, and smiled at her.

  “Washing whites has never looked so good.” She teased him with a wink.

  “Yeah, well, I’m a clean boy. I like things nice and clean.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep.”

  “Clean?”

  “You bet.”

  “Everywhere?” She lowered her voice to a sultry purr.

  He took the bait, reaching for her. “Almost everywhere.” His arms slipped around her waist, tugging her close.

  Yep, there was definitely something worth testing out her Johnson jammies on in those jeans.

  “Good, because there’s a time and place to be dirty.”

  “Is there?”

  She slid her arms up over his shoulders, leaning into him, snuggling her chest against his firm, muscled one. He tilted forward to bring his lips into contact with hers, but unlike the sucking, tonsil-hockey kiss Faith and Cooper had engaged in out there in the living room, Chris’s kiss was slow and tender. He nipped and teased, spreading his hands across her back and engaging his full body and hers in the process. Chastity rippled with so much heat that the clothes wouldn’t need a commercial dryer before long. Her intended husband-to-be sure did know how to turn a girl to jelly.

  When Chris finally eased up enough for both of them to breathe and lowered one hand to cradle her backside, Chastity sighed.

  “How come we aren’t married yet?” she wove her fingers into the thick curls of Chris’s hair.

  Chris shrugged, still holding her as close as he could. The splash of the washer filling with water made Chastity think that she might just need to wash her panties if they kept up like this.

  “We’ve still got tons of time before we hit the deadline to marry in Granddaddy’s will,” he said. “Why rush into anything?”

  In spite of the vague twist of frustration that came with his words, Chastity laughed. “I can think of a few reasons to rush.” She swiveled her hips into his bulge.

  Chris caught his breath and squeezed her backside. “Okay, there’s that.” He nudged her to the side so that her butt wedged against the side of the washer, then leaned in for another kiss.

  Chastity practically shook as he devoured her. Damn, if he was this good at kissing, how good would he be at everything else? She wanted to rip off his clothes and grab great, big handfuls of muscle and just kiss him all over. All over. And she wanted him to do the same to her. In fact, she was sorely tempted to peel off her t-shirt and pop open her bra for him right there, whether they were married or not.

  “Besides.” Chris stopped kissing her abruptly and went on with their conversation as if she wasn’t dripping with need in his arms. “I figure that one of the others will grab this whole situation by the hornies and get pregnant pretty soon. Just like everything else around here, they don’t need me to get involved. All they need is my signature on a piece of paper next to yours.”

  Dammit, that tingly, emotional feeling was back again. She moved her arms to hug him.

  “I’m sure your brothers need you for a lot more than a signature.” She peeked up at him through her lashes, smiling one of those smiles designed to break through gloom to make him smile too. “I know I need you for more than a signature.”

  Chris did smile, but it was more of the bittersweet, wistful kind. Not what she’d been going for.

  “You know, I like you, Chastity Quinlan,” he said.

  “You do?” She teased him back.

  “Yeah.” His grin turned wicked. “I liked you from the first moment you walked into this house.”

  “Good thing, too, since you’re supposed to marry me and all.”

  “Am I?”

  Her mouth dropped open, ready to scold him, but he surprised her into a gasp by lifting her and sitting her on the edge of the washer. In that position, her legs just naturally wanted to spread open. Once she did that, it was only right and proper that Chris should wedge himself and the big old bulge in his jeans right into the space where he would do the most good. Chastity’s breath came in short gulps as he pressed all the good stuff right into—dammit, why was she wearing clothes at all right then?

  “You don’t really want to wait until the last minute for vows and rings and…and wedding nights, do you?” Chastity whispered, breathless, as Chris leaned in closer to her.

  “Why do we have to wait at all?” His sultry gaze flashed with devilry and desire.

  “It’s the right thing to do?” Her mama would have been proud. As grating as all those lectures on virginity and saving it for marriage and being pure of body and mind had been, and in spite of a libido that made her dizzy more often than not, Chastity had listened and obeyed.

  Of course, that whole being good and obeying thing was next to impossible when Chris reached for the fly of her jeans and inched the zipper down, revealing pink, lacy panties.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she whispered, eyes bright with excitement.

  “Wouldn’t I?” His voice was deep and scintillating as he teased his fingers along the waist of her jeans, tugging her shirt up so he could spread his hand along the bare skin of her belly.

  Chastity jerked and caught her breath and definitely, definitely added to the need for clean underwear. She also bit her lip, hummed deep in her throat, and reached for the zipper of Chris’s pants.

  She had it halfway down when the washer kicked over from filling to agitating. The sudden jiggling when everything was turned on and amped up was too much—for either of them.

  “Oh Lord,” Chastity gulped as Chris pressed into her with a growl.

  They went from zero to sixty in no time flat. Chris brought his mouth crashing down over hers and his hands sliding up under her t-shirt. Right up under her bra too. Chastity sighed and wriggled her hips against him. The vibration of the washer rubbed the two of them together in excellent ways. Her clothes weren’t even off, and she felt like blast-off was imminent. Panting like she’d run a marathon, she reached back to grab hold of something and give herself some leverage—

  —and slammed her hand right into the jug of laundry detergent. The jug bumped into the washer controls, then tipped over. The cap w
ent flying off, clattering to the floor. It was a brand new, deluxe-size jug too, and before either of them could blink, silky-blue liquid detergent splashed across the top of the washer. It soaked into the seat of Chastity’s already suspiciously damp jeans, leaking down the sides of the washer to the floor, and seeping into the machine itself.

  “Are you that wet already?” Chris panted, breaking his kiss long enough to peer at Chastity with hooded eyes.

  Chastity would have answered, but her hands slipped under the viscous liquid and she jerked backwards. She let out a yelp, but Chris caught her before she could bump her head. That was about all he could do before his arms brushed against the soapy mess on top of the washer.

  “What the heck?”

  He pulled Chastity toward him to get a look. He also made the mistake of moving his feet…right into the detergent that had spilled to the floor. As he lifted Chastity off the washer, he slid on the slippery floor.

  Chastity yelped again as the two of them went down. It was like a slow-motion building collapse…with laundry detergent and suds. No matter what either of them tried to grab onto as they fell, they lost their grip, lost their footing, and ended up in a mountain fresh blob of tangled arms and legs, tinted blue, on the laundry room floor. Half a shelf of dryer sheets, bleach, and other bottles went down with them, along with someone’s basket of clean laundry that was waiting to be folded. At least that helped to cushion the fall.

  “What just happened?” Chastity panted.

  Chris would have answered if the washer hadn’t chosen that moment to suds over. Like a giant, bubbly burp, all the liquid soap that had spilled into the load of swishing underwear fizzed over, spilling onto the floor. And there Chris and Chastity were—a twisted tangle of arms and legs, soap and sex, just trying to get up.

  Not that kind of up.

  “Mom’s going to kill me,” Chris laughed. He extracted himself from Chastity and looked for a clean spot of linoleum to plant his foot.