Cowboy Charming

by Dylann Crush

  “Fine. Then we’ll do it my way. Do you need to call your grandma? Because you’re going to be late.”

  Her chin tucked against her chest. “How late are we talking?”

  “Well, that depends on how many times you want to lose your virginity tonight.”

  The corner of her mouth tugged into a half grin. “Technically, I can only lose it once.”

  “Then we better make it last a very long time.” He bent down to grab the hem of her dress.

  She hopped off the counter as he lifted the garment up and over her head. Standing before him in nothing but a sturdy white bra and a netted underskirt, her skin flushed. Her fingers reached for the top button on his shirt. As she pushed the button through the hole, she ran her tongue over that full bottom lip. By the time she’d undone his shirtfront, his dick strained against the zipper of his jeans.

  What was it about this woman that turned him on so much? With anyone else, he would have figured the hesitance and tentativeness as an act. With Dixie, it was just who she was. He slid his arms out of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor. With one fluid motion, he whipped his undershirt over his head.

  Dixie’s eyes widened as she took in the expanse of bare chest. He liked her reaction. Liked it so much he undid his belt buckle and his jeans and tossed them on top of the pile.

  “Your turn.” Standing in front of her in nothing but his boxer briefs, he waited to see if she really would take the next step.

  She slid her underskirt down her thighs. He followed it with his eyes, taking in the curve of her hip, the long expanse of leg. Then she reached behind her to unclasp her bra.

  “Damn, you’re beautiful.” How had he not noticed it before? All of these years—she’d been right in front of him.

  “I don’t feel very beautiful.” Her gaze met his for a moment, then she looked to the floor.

  Presley spun her around to face the mirror. “Do you see what I see?”

  She kept her eyes cast down. “Stop.”

  He finished unhooking her bra and let it fall forward. As he nestled his lips against the curve of her neck, he urged her to look up. “Beautiful.”

  Her gaze met his in the mirror. He traced his fingertips up her arms, over her shoulders, down her collarbone. His lips didn’t break contact with her skin. Not when her breath hitched. Not when she pressed her backside against him. Not when her eyes glazed over as he finally cupped her breasts in his hands.

  “So fucking beautiful,” he whispered against her neck.

  As she slowly twirled around, she brought her hands up between them. He twined his fingers with hers while he moved closer to capture that lower lip with his teeth. Slowly, he lowered their hands. The exquisite torture of her breasts on his chest made him crazed with want. She was so tentative, yet so trusting. He didn’t deserve her trust, her faith. But he wanted it.

  He rimmed the waistband of her panties with a finger. A shiver coursed through her. Ticklish. That could be fun. Later though. Now he needed to show her how good it could be. Show her what she’d been missing out on all of these years.

  Her fingers went to the front of his briefs, tugging downward, just enough to create a tiny bit of friction. His eyes rolled back in his head. She was so unsure of herself, so unaware of how turned on he was.

  Keeping her mouth occupied with deep kisses, his fingers dropped lower, then lower still, until he brushed the sweet spot he’d been searching for. Her knees buckled, and she gripped his shoulders with both hands and buried her nose into his chest.

  “Oh. That’s…oh my gosh…”

  He swept her up in his arms, cradling her against him. Forget the shower. Forget the fact that his siblings would tar and feather him. Her butt hit his bed, and she bounced. Before she had a chance to get situated at the head of the bed, he dropped to his knees to hover over her.

  Kisses rained down on her hair, her lips, her cheek. With nothing left between them, bare skin slid on bare skin, the pleasure at having her spread before him almost too much to bear.

  Her finger slid over his ribs. He didn’t even wince he was so focused on how her skin felt under his touch. With a hand propping up his head, the other was free to taunt her and tease her, dipping into those fire-red curls then back out again. Her body responded to his demand for control. For once in her life, she didn’t fight him, just gave in and let him touch her the way he wanted—the way she deserved.

  He wanted to take his time, savor her the way she was meant to be. But hell, her hips started making small circles against his fingers. With her eyes closed, she’d fisted two handfuls of his quilt in her hands. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked so serious, he almost wanted to laugh.

  “You don’t have to work so hard.”

  “Huh?” She didn’t open her eyes, just continued to make small, controlled circles with her hips.

  “Dixie.” As her name rolled off his tongue, she cracked an eye open.

  “What?”

  “Just relax. I’m going to make you feel good. Trust me.”

  She nodded, dropping her hips back down to the bed. He leaned over her, licking the salty taste of sweat off her skin. His lips trailed from her neck to her breast. He circled her nipple with his tongue then took it into his mouth, sucking, nibbling.

  Her hands fumbled against his hips. A finger ventured lower, dancing across his dick. He pulled her nipple deeper into his mouth, lightly scraping it with his teeth. A moan started in the back of her throat, and she loosely wrapped her hand around his cock. He guided her hand, showing her how to stroke it. He didn’t expect her to be such an enthusiastic learner. As he transferred the attention of his mouth to her other breast, she nudged his hand away, sliding her hand over him, up and down, like she’d been fisting his dick in her capable hands forever.

  He lay there, enjoying her touch as long as he could bear it. If it were up to him, he’d have his way with her right here, right now. Drive into her, over and over again until they both found their release. But this night wasn’t about him, it was about her. So he rolled over her and lowered himself until his lips lined up with her belly.

  “Your whiskers.” She squirmed under him.

  “Hold still. It’s about to get better.”

  She lifted her head. “Better? How could it get any better?”

  He dipped his head in between her legs and finally let himself get his first taste of her. Her entire body tensed, her hips lifting off the bed.

  “Told you it was going to get better,” he joked. Then he put his mouth on her again.

  * * *

  As Presley coaxed her to sensations she’d only imagined, Dixie finally shredded the last remnants of resolve and gave in. Wave after wave of exquisite pleasure washed over her. His tongue and his fingers and, good God, what was he doing with his other hand down there that felt so incredibly good?

  Unashamed, she sprawled in front of him. Naked as the day she was born while he had his way with her. She couldn’t even bear to get changed in a community dressing room, and yet here she was, sharing parts of herself not even she had explored.

  While he focused his tongue and his lips on her quivering core, his fingers played across her breasts. She wanted to feel him everywhere at once. Suddenly, his mouth, his fingers, his tongue weren’t enough. A part of her ached for him, somewhere deep inside.

  “Presley, I need…” Her voice faded as his tongue swept over her. “Oh.”

  “Go with it, Fireball.” His whiskers rubbed her inner thighs.

  She didn’t have a choice. The sensation started as a low hum and grew as it sawed along every nerve ending she had. Presley didn’t let up, continuing to guide her, never breaking contact with her skin. Her hands grappled for his shoulders. She needed an anchor, something to keep her secured to earth, or she feared she might float away.

  Finally, after what seemed like both f
orever and not nearly long enough, she crested, suspended in some sort of zero-gravity zone while uncontrollable pulses racketed through her body. Fully sated, she clung to him. As she gently drifted back to an awareness of her surroundings, Presley’s arms encircled her. He held her close to his chest as they both struggled to catch their breath.

  “You okay?” His whiskers tickled her ear.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  He pulled back to look at her. “Really? Tell me. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She held his head against her chest, not quite able to make eye contact with the man yet. “Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t think I’ll ever be okay again. That was so not okay.”

  “Not okay? Oh shit. Are you sorry?”

  “No. I’m just sorry I didn’t do that years ago.” Her body was already so hot, she couldn’t tell if she was blushing or just flushed from overexerting herself.

  “Oh, Dix. You’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

  “Yes, I think I do.” She finally dropped her gaze to his.

  Smiling, he propped himself up on his elbows. “Ready to get started then?”

  “Wasn’t that enough for one night? Look”—she lifted her arm and let it drop back to the bed—“I can’t even lift my arms.”

  He reached into the drawer of the nightstand and grabbed something. “Don’t worry, your arms don’t need to be involved.”

  She scooted up the bed until she could lean against the headboard.

  He unrolled a condom into place. “We haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll survive the best part.” She eyed him with a lazy smile. How could he have so much energy left when her legs felt like she’d run a marathon? “You’ve worn me out.”

  “Do you mean that?” Concern creased his brow.

  “Nah. Just need to catch my breath.”

  “You’ll survive, Fireball.” He pulled her down the bed until she was flat on her back again. “Not only that, but I bet you’ll be begging for more.”

  She barked out a laugh. “So you’re ready to lose another bet? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?”

  He nudged her legs apart and leaned over her. His mouth pressed down on hers. “I’m learning that sometimes the only way to win is by losing.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to hers again. How could something she’d been told was so wrong be so amazing? Presley kissed along her cheek, pressing his nose into her hair.

  “You smell incredible. Drives me crazy.”

  Tingles raced up her side as his tongue rimmed her ear. His hand trailed over her ribs. The need she’d felt earlier returned. Her body ached for him. She didn’t think she had the ability to feel anything else—hadn’t she already felt enough for tonight? Heck, for a lifetime?

  Presley’s mouth continued to pay homage to her earlobe. She shifted her hips underneath him, restless, needing more. He settled between her legs. His fingers slipped down her stomach, edging past her navel and tickling her inner thigh.

  “Stop.” She giggled, the mixture of sensations making it difficult to hold still.

  “Stop what? This?” He took her earlobe into his mouth. Warmth shot through her.

  “No, not that. That’s nice.”

  “Then what? Stop this?” He slipped a finger just inside her.

  Her legs tensed. She should be embarrassed at the way her body automatically responded to his touch. But she wasn’t. The only thing she felt was the desire for more. She wanted everything Presley had for her—everything he was willing to teach her. “Oh, no, definitely don’t stop that.”

  Making small circles over her most sensitive bundle of nerves with one hand, he slid his other finger in and out. Her hips matched his rhythm, small movements at first. But as he kept stroking and kissing and circling, her body ignited from within. Some primal need she was unprepared for took over. A frantic desire to wrap herself around him, surround him, enveloped her.

  Presley brushed her hair off her cheek. “This may hurt a little bit. Are you sure this is what you want?”

  She met his gaze and nodded. He hovered over her like he didn’t want to smush her. Then he slowly lowered himself onto her, his gaze never leaving hers. She felt pressure as he pushed into her. At the resistance, he paused.

  “Ready?”

  She bit her lower lip. What she was about to do with Presley couldn’t be undone. Her hands gripped his back, and she pulled him closer, urging him to continue. The pressure shifted to a sting. Then suddenly, it was gone, replaced by the same slight buzz she’d felt before.

  Presley coaxed the tingle to a crescendo. His mouth took hers, searing her skin with his kisses. His hips moved in a rhythmic dance her body seemed to already know. His eyes never left hers.

  “You feel amazing.” He smiled between kisses, reaching a hand down between their legs to touch her like he had before.

  “You feel pretty good to me too,” she admitted, still not quite comfortable acknowledging how incredible he made her feel.

  As he focused his attention on her sex, sensation took over. Her nails dug into his back, drawing him closer, needing him to finish what he’d started. His hips circled, and he pulled out slowly. She ached at the emptiness until he thrust forward, filling her again. Finally, when she couldn’t take it anymore, her nerve endings exploded. Presley pushed into her one more time, holding himself still while a range of emotion swept over his face.

  He’d always been the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. But like this—in a moment of complete release—the release she’d caused—he glowed.

  He held himself over her, stretching out the moment, every muscle in his body taut. Her fingers ran over his arms, enjoying the tightness, the strength he held in check. Then he grinned. But instead of the smug, trademarked Presley Walker smirk she’d grown so accustomed to, he wore a tentative smile.

  “What do you think?”

  Spent, she gazed up at him. Her muscles were like Jell-O. “I think I should have done this a long time ago.”

  He rolled to the side and gathered her against him. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Really?” She searched his face. “Why?”

  His hand brushed her cheek. “Because then you wouldn’t have waited for me.”

  Dixie nestled into him, burrowing her face into his chest. She should get up, go. Insist Presley take her home. This was just a box she needed checked. Lose virginity. Done. It was natural to have a little bit of a hangover after the earth-moving experience she’d just shared with Presley. But that was it. They’d go on being the same antagonizing force in each other’s lives. The fact that they’d just had sex—hot, mind-bending sex—shouldn’t change a thing between them.

  But it had. She could feel it in the way he held her close. In the way he cradled her. In the way she clung to him.

  In that moment, Dixie knew there was no going back when it came to Presley Walker. What she hadn’t quite figured out was how they would be able to move forward.

  Chapter Twenty

  Presley lay still, holding Dixie close. He’d had more than his fair share of dalliances. More than several men’s fair share—and yet he’d never done what he’d done tonight. He’d never taken a woman’s virginity. God, he hoped she didn’t regret it.

  Her head rested on his chest. He played with an errant curl, twisting it around his finger then letting it spring back into place. He had to keep his hands busy, or he’d run them all over her again. The curves, the skin as soft as a perfectly ripe peach. He couldn’t get enough of her. Too bad this was a once-in-a-lifetime, one-night deal. Maybe that’s why it seemed so bittersweet. By tomorrow at this time, they’d probably be flinging zingers at each other again.

  “Dixie?”

  “Mm-hmm?” Her breath floated across his chest.

 
; “You okay?” With a little bit of encouragement from her, he’d be ready to go again. But that wasn’t part of the bet.

  From the light filtering in from the open bathroom door, he could make out the outline of her cheek. He ran a finger over it, wanting to say something to perfect the moment. But everything that popped into his head sounded way too cheesy.

  “Yeah.” She made a move to get up.

  “Hey, wait a sec.” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t quite want the magic to end just yet. Not without acknowledging what had changed between them.

  “What?” As she waited for him to speak, she caught her bottom lip with her teeth.

  He wanted to nudge into her, to capture that swollen bottom lip with his mouth. He shook the feeling off, trying to shed it like a jacket that didn’t quite fit. That’s the way the two of them were—they didn’t fit together. No matter how much he’d enjoyed the evening, they wouldn’t ever be a match.

  “I guess I wanted to say thanks.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows, the hint of a smile lighting up those gorgeous green eyes. “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?”

  His cheeks heated. When was the last time a woman had made him blush? “I meant thanks for trusting me.”

  “Why, Presley Walker”—she gave his chest a playful swat—“I do believe you’re being sincere.”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

  She pulled away. “No. You surprised me. I think there’s a lot more to you than you let on.”

  “Oh yeah?” He rolled off the bed and felt around on the floor for where he’d left his jeans.

  “Yeah.” The bed creaked as she sat up on the other edge, the quilt wrapped around her.

  He rounded the bed as he slid his jeans over his hips. “What if I told you you might be right?”

  “Ha. I might faint from the shock of you admitting it.” She lifted a brow. “Wait, are you serious?”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. A glimmer of something akin to hope sparked in the depths of her eyes. He wanted to tell her everything. About the desire to turn his back on his job and strike out on his own for a change. About maybe wanting to settle down and try to make a relationship work for once in his life. But that glint of hope scared him more than anything. What if she took a chance on him and he blew it? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Dixie put her trust in him and he let her down.