by Elaria Ride
I finally heave a sigh of relief as Earl murmurs sound cues into the earpiece. As promised, she’s safe and unharmed. As promised, things have gone according to plan — at least when it comes to her.
“Hey, folks!” Mariah croons when the cheers die down. “I hear y’all are ready to hear some music tonight!”
There’s another collective round of applause from the audience. Mariah smiles, adjusting herself to perform — but just as she opens her mouth, someone up front shouts, “I LOVE YOU!”
The crowd laughs right along with Mariah, but my eyes narrow. Being in a stable, loving relationship means I’ve abandoned a lot of my control freak tendencies. Still, I can’t keep that primal male part of me from stirring when I think about other men laying claim to what’s mine.
“Oh, darlin’!” Mariah replies soothingly, batting her lashes into the audience. “I love you, too, but we should probably see other people!”
I chortle as my lingering overprotectiveness slinks way. The crowd erupts in laughter, too. I think she’ll leave it at that, but my girl is full of surprises.
“Besides,” she adds, turning to look at me. We lock eyes, and my face erupts in a besotted smile. She shoots me a flirty wink, and for a brief second, I wonder if she can hear my heart swelling in my chest. I hadn’t thought it was possible to be more in love with her… but every single day with Mariah Matthews brings me something new.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“My fella,” she drawls, turning back to the audience, “is about six-foot-five and 275 pounds of pure muscle. So I reckon you’ll have to take that one up with him!”
There’s another round of laughter as Mariah shifts again, her posture straightening. “And speaking of my fella, this one goes out to Luke Carter — my personal secret agent man!”
She shoots me another wink and starts strumming the first notes of that particular song. I playfully roll my eyes and double-check the set list, but I shouldn’t have bothered. Of course, this one isn’t on there… she’s just rolling with it from memory.
For me.
I give her another grin as she leans back her head, crooning the familiar lyrics of the 1960s ballad. Of course, what the audience doesn’t know is that this is far from the only song about me she’ll be performing tonight.
And I love every second of it.
She writes about me because she loves me. She writes about me to process what she feels and show me she cares. I couldn't be happier to let her perform with other people… because at the end of the day? We both know she’s mine.
______
“You were incredible,” I murmur, nipping at her neck. Mariah lets out a sweet sigh, her palms flat against the counter in the bedroom of her tour bus. I grind my clothed erection against the perfect swell of her ass. She instinctively bucks against me as my left hand drifts up the smooth skin of her thigh, swirling closer and closer to my goal.
“Did you like your song?” she purrs, spreading her legs before I even have to ask. Good girl.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” I rumble, my voice deep with arousal. She releases a sharp intake of breath as my fingers slip beneath her lace panties, dipping into her soaking heat. “Which song would that be?”
“The first,” she manages, spreading her legs wider as my fingers dance over her clit. She shifts until her arms drape over my neck, her whole body screaming for more. I chuckle into the shell of her ear, my right hand balanced on her hip.
“That was a good one,” I allow, my middle finger sliding deep inside her. “But three hours and two encores is a long time to keep a fella waiting.”
She giggles softly. “Maybe if they knew we were married, the crowd might be more receptive to watching you take me. Right on stage.”
I remove my fingers from her pussy in a flash, ignoring her whimper of disappointment as I do. Then I lift her by the waist until she’s balanced on the counter. Surprise registers on her features for a split second before she realizes what I’m doing.
“Yes,” I agree, sinking to my knees. “But what would be the fun in that?”
She rolls her eyes but can’t help giving her wedding ring a fond stare as it glints against the overhead light. Pretty soon after we got back together, I pulled some strings to recover her mom’s old ring from the dressing room crime scene bag. Of course, I’d known better than to hand it over, just like that. I had it professionally reset into another intricate overlay of turquoise and steel. One she likes even better than the original. If that were possible.
I grin up at her, more alive and in love than I’ve ever been. She married me last week in a private ceremony back home on Biggal Mountain. Her family will always be a huge part of our lives, but we wanted something special. Something just for us. The big wedding will come next spring, after this tour’s done.
And after that? We don’t exactly know what the future holds. The silver lining of this whole ordeal is that she’s massively, massively famous now. She got basically everything Russ promised to Tori — and then some. There’s at least one recording contract in her future. Probably more.
Which has also created a niche for me. I’m now head of security for the entire MFB. They performed together at the sold-out Country Soul last year, but her brothers all understood that they just don’t want this gig as badly as Mariah. When offered the chance, they all deferred to her solo career over anything else. Still, they’ve planned occasional appearances during this tour, which gives me a chance to hang out with Mark.
And speaking of Mark… my eyes drift to the door. He and Sabrina are in town, so they agreed to come see us after the show. Meaning I need to get this part of the show on the road.
With a final wink, I drag my warm hands up her thighs, kissing each inch of silky flesh I discover. Fuck… and then my finger slips right into her sopping heat.
“No panties?” I rumble, peering up at her. I shake my head. “Fuck. That shouldn’t surprise me. After all this time, some part of me knew you wouldn’t be wearing panties.”
Mariah bites her lip. “Hmm, Mr. Carter,” she murmurs, winking down at me. She releases a giggle that becomes a moan as my finger drifts to massage her clit. “Is there anything you’re bad at knowing?”
I just smirk at her, blinking twice.
No.
Thank You
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About the Author
Elaria Ride likes to think she’s pretty well-adjusted for someone who lives in Washington, DC. The Booty Guard is her second full-length novel.
She’s a writer, teacher, wife, and mother who loves body positivity, snuggling with her pets, dirty books, and handsome mountain men! She would be honored if you gave her a follow on social media for conversations, giveaways, and more!
Next from Elaria Ride
What was Luke up to when he flew back to Biggal Mountain for a few days?
Find out in Her Mountain Master: A BBW Mountain Man Romance! Planned release prior to March 2020.
Now available for pre-order, exclusively on Amazon!
Sneak Peek
Stay tuned for a special preview of Her Mountain Master, the sixth book in the Babes of Biggal Mountain series!
Expected release January-February 2020!
Her Mountain Master
Chapter One: Abby
Elegance surrounds me on all sides.
The crystal drop chandeliers are ado
rned with mother of pearl. The white linen table cloths are pressed and crisp. The enormous ice sculpture captures a thoroughbred horse mid-whinny, his proud hooves raised in a canter.
Even the merry tinkling of laughter from other guests at the pre-season gala feels exquisite, somehow.
Like I can’t afford it.
I sigh as my eyes travel from the solid pine rafters to the hardwood floor. These provide a hint of where I truly am: a barn. The event planners did an excellent job pretending this party is happening in a swanky Manhattan penthouse and not a small, rural town.
“I hooked us up!” My roommate calls from in front of me, pushing a champagne flute into my hand.
“Thanks!” I say, feigning enthusiasm to cover my distraction.
It doesn’t work.
Tasha puts her hand on her hip. “Girl. The barn is still the barn, ok? It just looks, you know…” She dismissively waves her French-manicured hand.
“Like we actually have money?” I offer.
Our assignment tonight is simple: each girl on the rodeo team needs to secure at least one wealthy benefactor. One local (or even not-so-local) businessperson who will sponsor her at Nationals next month. Luckily, the only people in attendance are super-rich benefactors who afforded $1500 tickets.
Well, them and lowly rodeo girls who need their support.
This should be like shooting fish in a barrel, but I’ve still managed to strike out. Mostly because I haven’t tried.
Tasha giggles. “You’re not wrong,” she admits. “But tonight, that’s the name of the game. Faking it til we make it!”
I sigh and take a drink myself. Faking it. Like I’ve ever been able to do that…
Tasha pats me on the shoulder. “Abby,” she says, shaking her head.“I love that you’re honest person. Believe me, that’s an amazing quality — it makes you a great roommate, and an even better friend!”
I roll my eyes, and she plows on. “But tonight might be a good chance to practice a little… deception. Ok? Nothing too crazy!” Tasha adds at the startled look on my face. “But just make the rounds, girl! Flirt! Chat up a stranger and see how it goes!”
I chuckle, but she knows what I’m thinking. She knows I’m a terrible liar.
I’ve spent two years pretending my only boyfriend (and childhood sweetheart) didn’t smash my heart to smithereens. But after years of dancing around our passion, Hunter Beckett finally took my virginity… and then left town. A hastily-scribbled note about joining an international rodeo group was the only explanation I got.
Still, I’m not some doormat who let a man ruin her. I’ve made something of myself. I’m now in the running for the Rodeo Nationals — and I’m this close to achieving my lifelong dreams.
But horses can’t fix broken hearts.
I look up to see that Tasha giving me that sad look again. “Don’t go there, babe,” she says softly, her eyes twinkling in the chandelier light. “He’s gone, ok? And at this point, our jobs kinda depend on you meeting someone rich!”
I bite my lip. Tasha’s right, of course. I need to reach outside my comfort zone, and not just tonight. I need to try flirting. I need to learn to trust again.
“Luckily, only rich people were invited to this,” Tasha adds thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t be a bad place to find yourself a rich husband, eh?” She winks at me and drains her champagne flute.
I giggle and drain mine, too — but marriage is the last thing I want to think about.
“So. If you care to join me, I’m gonna march up to that bar and chat up Charlie McKay of McKay’s Sportswear. Who knows?” She shoots me a wink and links my arm in hers. “Maybe he’s looking for a plus-sized baseball cleat model for his Spring collection!”
I laugh and begin walking with her, but the growing crowd separates us as we reach the bar. Tasha gives me an apologetic shrug as she pulls in front of me. I wave her on just as a man with broad, tuxedoed shoulders steps right in front of me. And then stops moving, dead in his tracks.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, trying to slide past. The man inches to the side as he chats up another teammate, but he doesn’t apologize. Figures.
It’s just as I squeeze past him — inelegantly extending my left foot and then my right onto the hardwood floor in a move reminiscent of a clown climbing out of a clown car — that I catch a fleeting glimpse of a pair of eyes from across the room.
The eyes are gray… as molten and piercing as hot steel. They’re distinct. They’re unmistakable.
They’re his.
My breath hitches in my throat. My heart races. I’m so dizzy and disoriented that I stumble over before I catch myself, but that’s enough to break my concentration.
I’m living in a daze as a kindly older gentleman helps me to my feet. I thank him, my voice shaking, and step to the side.
What the hell was that?
I draw an uneasy breath and scan the crowd again, but all signs of those eyes have vanished. I only see broad shoulders and anonymous donors clad in tuxes, their faces unfamiliar.
But I know what I saw.
I’ve spent the past two years pretending not to think about those eyes — pretending they don’t haunt my dreams and fantasies… both ruing their existence and wishing desperately to see them again.
And as I draw deep breaths, as I shakingly return to my body, I finally accept three things.
First, that Hunter Beckett is here.
Second, that he’s apparently wealthy. Very wealthy.
And third, that I’d do anything to see those eyes again...
Because I’m still in love with him.
Shit.
Her Mountain Master now available for pre-order!
Also by Elaria Ride
Book 1: Lumberjack’s Luscious Lady
Fresh off the heels of a nasty breakup, BBW Jessie Pike isn’t expecting more than a relaxing weekend when she leaves the confines of Seattle for a cozy log cabin in the mountains. But she soon learns that Biggal Mountain is no ordinary place. Here, BBWs are worshipped. And Huck—a rugged, handsome lumberjack—is more than happy to show her around…and to treat her like the plus-sized goddess she is.
Also by Elaria Ride
Book 2: Pleasingly Plump
Marina is a sassy, no-nonsense single mom from New York— who also happens to be a BBW. Love is the last thing on her mind when she starts a job at a winery, even as rumors about Finn, the ruggedly handsome owner, circulate like wildfire. A not-so-chance encounter on her first day proves that not only Finn is exactly her type…but that Finn, himself, might just have a thing for being controlled by sassy BBWs. And that he might have orchestrated her job, in the first place.
Also by Elaria Ride
Book 3: Curvy Christmas
Harrison, a handsome lumberjack-turned-restauranteur, spent most of his life on Biggal Mountain fantasizing about Kara — the red-haired vixen of his deepest desires.
In his fantasies, though, Kara’s always been a BBW…and in reality, she’s just too thin. As a man who appreciates women of size, Harrison hadn’t been able to see past that while she’d lacked the curves he craved.
But sparks fly when Kara— now a world-famous chef— returns to their hometown for Christmas with a few extra pounds in tow. Harrison’s desperate to prove that she’s what he’s always wanted…by worshipping her for the plus-sized goddess she’s finally become.
Also by Elaria Ride
Book 4: Falling Hard
Asher Bosco is dark, brooding, mysterious, and sexy. Unfortunately, he’s also her boss. Which makes him off-limits. But when virginal park ranger Autumn Walker takes a nasty slip on some ice, things heat up… and not just because she’s forced to recuperate in his bed. After a weekend in close quarters, will Asher and Autumn get the lay of the land… or will Asher’s dark past stand in the way of their future?
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