All he could hear was the whisper of wind in the trees and the gasping sounds coming from Izzy, who was pressing closer to him like a cat in heat. That was fine by him. He took advantage of her obvious pleasure to let his fingers explore a little, first with them settled at the base of her back, where he slid his fingertips beneath the waistband for a test run of what she was willing to consider.
When that seemed to elicit no objections, he pulled her toward him, pressing her ass as he did so. It was clear she could feel his arousal—it was impossible not to—and he wanted her to know how having her warmth pressed up to him turned him on. He ground his crotch against her center and she groaned. God, what he would give to drop everything and bend her over by the cottonwood tree and fuck her here and now until she screamed his name out while climaxing. But he couldn’t do that—not yet. They barely knew each other. Not that it hadn’t stopped him in the past. But this seemed different... like he needed to go slow and treasure each step along the way.
His hands crept toward the front, sliding beneath her T-shirt and skimming over her tight abs, then covering a breast with each palm as she moaned out his name. Soon his fingers began to pinch and tweak at her nipples beneath the cups of her bra, and she pressed her pelvis even firmer against his cock. He’d have to will himself not to go off in his jeans. They had more fences to repair and then lunch with Eleanor, so the last thing he wanted was a big old wet spot by his crotch. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do her the favor...
One hand slipped away from playing with her nipples and slid down her soft belly, unbuttoned the top button of her jeans, and unzipped them. His fingers made short work of traveling down beneath the edge of her underwear—a veritable miracle he’d even gotten access—and slipped between the slick lips of her pussy. He stroked along them and circled her clit as her breathing became labored. Deepening the kiss, she spread her legs to give him better access.
Sully moaned into her mouth at the feel of her wet center, and when he slid two fingers inside of her, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. He continued to pinch and tweak her nipple, which had grown hard with desire, and he slicked his fingers through her pussy faster and faster. The pace of her breath, the firm grip on his ass as she pressed him toward her even harder told him everything he wanted to know: she was close to coming. He plunged a third finger inside her, pressing the flat of his palm against her clit as he went deeper and pulled out.
“Oh God, Sully, don’t stop. I’m coming—” she moaned out loud, only to be echoed by the mournful moans of Blizzard, who joined in solidarity to the cause.
Sully pressed deep inside her as she climaxed, the muscles of her pussy spasming around him. He so wished that was his cock right now, but with a bit of luck—and strategy—it would be. And he was going to try his damnedest to make sure it became a reality.
In the meantime, his cock was as stiff as a fence post, and they had plenty more of them to repair before lunchtime, so his hard-on would have to wait its turn.
Chapter Thirteen
What’s the standard protocol for when you’re out in a field in the middle of nowhere fixing fence posts and the hot guy next to you ever so kindly decides to treat you to an orgasm? Because that was one hell of a climax. Made Izzy rethink the notion of living in rural America. To hell with city life if this was what you did all day out here. Shame they had more posts to fix. She’d have liked nothing more than to plant his pole in a particularly memorable place.
Not that she was going to do that, mind you. She had already decided that this guy was off-limits. Not the least of which was because of the droves of desperate women (yeah, yeah, she might have fit into that very category when she came racing up to Bristol, but she’d had a change of heart) willing to do anything to get a piece of him. Meanwhile, she was trying to figure out if moaning in ecstasy to the accompaniment of a howling dog was weird or not. Simpatico or downright weird?
Right now though, hmmm. How do you segue from that—screaming-hot orgasm—to not that? She stood there regaining her breath as she pondered the awkwardness of the situation. Luckily he was on it and reached for her hand.
“We’ve got a few more of these to fix before lunch, so we’d better get a move on.” He threw her a sly look.
They collected their tools, putting them back into the bed of the truck, then hopped into the cab to drive on.
Two hours of sweaty, hot labor passed with easy conversation between them. It wasn’t like Izzy to want to be outside shvitzing like a racehorse, but this felt both comfortable and gratifying. The benefits of a workout at Wild Card West Boxing minus the ubiquitous overpriced Lululemon-wear.
At last, Izzy had the nerve to get to the meat of the matter. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
He shrugged as he stooped over positioning a rail back into place. “Fire away.”
“What made you do this big ring giveaway contest?”
He stood up. “Well, I guess it seemed like a good idea.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a bandana and mopped his damp brow. Izzy was having a hard time not focusing on his sweat-glistened chest as he spoke. Now that she’d had her hands on it, she was itching for a command performance. Yet considering she was conflicted about pursuing anything amorous with him, she wasn’t about to take the lead.
She half smiled. “Yeah... So living on kale and protein smoothies with almond milk seems like a good idea too, but in reality, not so much.”
He laughed. “That doesn’t even remotely sound like a good idea to me. Now if you’d have said a steady diet of banana splits and pizza, I’d be totally on board with that.”
She nodded. “You and me both.”
“But getting back to this thing that has gotten a little out of control... I spent a year mired in misery after Gretchen left me. I took it so personally. Not only was I sad to have lost this woman I loved and thought I wanted to spend my life with, but my feelings were badly bruised. I pouted around and wrote sad songs and sang sad songs and worked through my angst by having a succession of one-night stands with women I chose because I’d never have to deal with them again. It was much easier that way than it was confronting my emotions.” He scrunched his nose. “I am a guy, after all. We aren’t often known for addressing those deeper issues.”
“Okay so you were a bit of a male ho, I get that, but that’s still a far cry from the ring giveaway.”
He held up his hands. “Be patient. I’m getting to that.” He’d moved on to the next fence post and had finished filling it with dirt and hammering it down. “You go ahead and supervise while I do the hard work.” He winked at her.
“You’re doing such a fine job. And, well, the view from here sort of precludes much more action.”
He nodded toward the mountains. “It truly is God’s country.”
She looked up. “Ha! I wasn’t talking about the mountains. I was talking more about what was directly in front of me.”
He squinted. “You like what you see?”
“I’d be a fool not to.”
He nodded. Funny how he didn’t choose to seize on that and instead carried on the conversation. Of course Izzy could have taken the moment to make a move, too, but she was too much of a wimp. Even though her libido was coaxing her despite her better judgment.
“So I discovered that after a while it gets boring being whiny.” He dusted off his gloved hands as he spoke. “And extremely unfulfilling. I knew I had to make a break from the past and move the hell on.” He looked off toward the mountains. “And I knew that ring was not going to play any part of my life anymore. Not as if I’d use it if I ever got engaged again—bad juju to keep it with me. But with someone else, it could have a new life, especially if a good message was attached to it. So I figured giving it away was the best option.” He scuffed the dirt with the tip of his boot.
“The thing is, how do you give away a nearly hundred-thousand-dollar ring?” he continued. “I wanted someone who wanted to get married, someone who couldn’
t necessarily pony up the money even for something small but significant. Someone who would really treasure this thing that I’d grown to see as symbolic of failure in my life. You know what they say—one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Well, despite its cash value, it was kind of trash for me, but I knew it was certainly treasure for pretty much anyone else on the planet. So how do I find the right person to grant this fairy godmother wish to?”
She tapped her chin. “I can see your dilemma. It’s not like you want someone who’s going to hock it on eBay to get it.”
“Yep. And what is the best way to get the greatest reach these days?” He pointed in the air. “Through social media. It seemed so obvious to me. Put it up there, make it a short time period so as to not draw out the whole process, and be done with something that no longer needs to be in my life.”
Wow. What a good guy he is. Why would she have not given the man the benefit of the doubt? He was so darned normal and simply wanted to do something nice and put it out there in the world. And here she was giving him a rash of shit for, well, dog doo that probably wasn’t even his dog’s. Because it was clear he was not the type of guy who’d do that.
“So, have you received a crazy amount of replies?”
He heaved a sigh and nodded. “An insane number. Last time I checked there were around fifteen thousand emails. Fifteen thousand! I don’t have time to go through that many emails! And trust me, none of them are short. They’re long, detailed stories about their loves, their lives, their dreams. All good stuff, but geez, I evidently didn’t think this through.”
“I’ll say. So what about getting help with all this? Like organize a reading party, where you divide up the emails with everyone in attendance. Surely there are easy ones to discard. Narrow it down to the final ten or twenty. Everyone reads those and votes on it. Maybe you can get the whole town involved. I mean, you need the ones reading the emails to be people you trust, but then for the final vote, get everyone together to cast their ballots. Like maybe on a private Facebook group or something.”
He cocked his head and looked at her, grinning. “You’re kind of a genius. Where do you come up with these ideas?”
She shook her head. “I’m a reformed publicist,” she said. “Worked at it for years until I got tired of being a publicity whore. It started feeling kind of cheap always pushing stuff on people. I do recognize the value in the work—helping people to broadcast their message in the most effective way. But on a day-to-day basis, I was badgering media outlets for coverage over dumb things that wore on me. I mean, how many times can you beg a local newspaper to write a story about a restaurant’s new line of scented cocktails? I got tired enough of it a few months ago to take a little sabbatical from my job. I’ve been living on a nice chunk of money that my grandmother generously left to me when she passed away a few years ago.” She stooped over to help Sully line up the final rail. “But this—I mean this is kind of perfect, isn’t it?”
“Beyond genius. Now if you could figure out how to get these women off my back.” He thrust out his lower lip in a pout.
“You don’t like being the poster child for virtue, humanity, and decency?”
He shook his head. “I don’t like women throwing themselves at me shamelessly. I mean, would they do this to me if I hadn’t done this ring thing? Hell no.”
Izzy thought perhaps she might throw herself at him if she’d first seen him singing at Harry’s. He had a beautiful voice and his words resonated with her deeply.
“Part of me is like ‘where were you all when I was a fifteen-year-old boy and wanted women throwing themselves at me?’” They both laughed at that.
“It’s true. I mean I know musicians have groupies but damn, when you were taking that break at Harry’s, the women were shameless. It was a bit of overkill.”
He nodded. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Kudos to you for not taking advantage of it. I guess in their own way, those women are sort of sad and vulnerable, and you are kind of like the white knight to them.”
He pursed his lips. “I have no interest in being anyone’s white knight. I’m your average guy and want to be treated as such.”
“In that case, Mr. Average, can we get out of here and go have lunch? I’m starving and don’t want to stay here, or I might be accused of fawning over you. God forbid you misconstrue me as a ring groupie.”
Even though that was the original genesis of her being in town right now, it was that very thing she now shunned. She figured she’d keep that bit to herself for safekeeping.
Chapter Fourteen
“Ah, Eleanor, you’re a gem of a woman.” Sully rubbed Eleanor’s shoulders in gratitude as they sat down to a lunch she’d made especially for them, including chicken salad—from fresh chickens she’d raised on the ranch—and homemade croissants, which to Sully seemed like something that only happened in a dream. His mother was a talented baker and he warmly remembered those days he’d come home from school to fresh-from-the-oven bread and homemade butter and jam. This brought back the fondest of memories, and since Eleanor was almost like a mother to him, it was fitting. He took a seat on the porch, flanked on either side by the two women.
“Speaking of gems, what gives with that ring of yours?”
“Ugh, that ring has become an eight-headed hydra,” he said. “But Izzy, here, has come up with a brilliant plan to figure this all out. Because if it were left up to me, it would take ten years to get through all the submissions I’ve received so far.”
Eleanor lifted up her glass of tea toward Izzy. “I could tell she was a keeper from the minute I met her,” she said, smiling.
Weirdly Sully could almost tell that too. Once he sifted through her rage issues, that is.
“Oh, Eleanor, you’re too kind, but believe me, I’m not any great shakes.”
But when she shook that cute little ass of hers... ay yai yai how that got to him.
“She’s being humble, isn’t she?” Eleanor winked at Sully.
“No, I’m being serious. To be honest, when I first met Sully, I hated him.”
Eleanor laughed. “That’s always the best sign.”
“Hate at first sight?”
“All on the same continuum, my dear,” she said as she took a bite of her sandwich. “You’d rather that than complete ambivalence. You can’t do anything about someone who is neutral about you. But if you inspire some extreme in temperament, then you’ve got a relationship in play.”
“In that case, we’re practically engaged,” Sully blurted out with a laugh. Izzy gave him a side kick on the ankle.
“I’m serious,” Eleanor said as she lifted the pitcher and refilled everyone’s tea. “The first time I met Jed was at a horse show in a nearby town. His horse stepped on my foot and broke a toe. Jed insisted that his horse had done nothing of the sort, but I gave him a piece of my mind. So, he took me back to his barn to tape up my toes and the next thing you know we were up in the loft and we kissed. Before I knew it we were rolling around in the hay bales and, well, the rest is history. We ended up eloping only a month afterward. Of course back then if you were young and randy and you wanted to have sex you got married, so what can I say? But we were on to something because we were married for forty-five years and raised five wonderful children together.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she tore off a piece of her sandwich to give to Blizzard.
“Why, Eleanor Mullaney if you’ aren’t are a sassy thing!” Sully poked her in the ribs.
She nodded. “I’m telling it like it was. Everyone likes to think things were different back then, but they weren’t a whole lot different than they are today. Boys and girls, men and women, they fall in love, and sometimes they fall in hate first. It’s what you do with it that matters.”
Sully pondered that notion for a minute, and realized she was spot-on.
AS SULLY AND IZZY DROVE the final post into the ground, the late-afternoon sun blazed a trail of warmth and the colors of a Bellini cocktail painted
the sky. When he looked at the glowing landscape he was continually reassured that moving to Bristol was the smartest thing he’d done in ages. Sure it wasn’t the best for sustaining a relationship with his affianced. But who knew that at the time? And if he needed to be here and she couldn’t be, then how could they have continued anyhow? One or the other would have been unhappy, and that wasn’t right. Although not like he could expect to carry on a relationship with Izzy, who was also a city girl from the other side of the country. Shame he couldn’t find someone local who wanted to remain here. But he figured at least he’d try to play things out with Izzy and see where it took him. Definitely not to LA. He and Blizzard would hate that.
He shook his head—talk about premature thinking. How weirdly optimistic of him after a year of pessimism about relationships.
“So, uh, who knew ole Eleanor was a bit of a horndog in her youth?” He lifted his eyebrow as he gazed into Izzy’s blue eyes. He could probably get lost in those eyes if he let himself. Or if she let him. Was she even willing to do that?
“Right? I was sitting there thinking about Ellie and Jed up in the loft, making all sorts of noises and then coming back down covered in hay, sticking out of her braid and stuff.”
“She’s quite the motivational speaker, isn’t she?”
“You mean in encouraging sexual congress early on in a relationship?” Izzy laughed.
Boy Toy Page 6
