Cowboy 12 Pack

by Cynthia D’Alba, Paige Tyler, Elle James, Donna Michaels, Shoshanna Evers, Randi Alexander, Cora Seton, Beth Williamson, Sabrina York, Sable Hunter, Lexi Post, Becky McGraw

  He decided it would be better if he undid his jeans. He couldn’t take much of her teasing touch. Not there. Not now. But God, he hated letting go of her, even for that. With all haste, he stripped down to his briefs and then turned back to her.

  Her focus locked on his cock. The expression on her face slayed him.

  It was hunger. Raw and fierce.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached out to trace him. But then, he trembled too. Her touch was goddamn heavenly. He never wanted her to stop. But she had to stop. Because he needed more.

  He pulled her close, sealing their bodies together, chest to chest, groin to groin. Her warmth, her welcome was breathtaking. “Jesus, Crystal,” he murmured nesting in her neck again, tasting and teasing her there. She reciprocated, licking and laving at any spot she could reach.

  Gently, he laid her down on the cot, settling himself at her side. He wanted to take her now, plunge in, in a frenzy, but as aroused as she was, he needed to know she was ready.

  Sucking on her nipples, he walked his fingers down to the band of her panties and slipped beneath. His heart stalled at what he found there. She was slick and hot. Her clit was a hard button. When he scraped her, her whole body seized. And then she went wild.

  She looped her leg around his hip and rubbed her body against his. Her groans and moans rumbled through him and he gave them right back. Damn, she was a handful, this woman. And a tease. She eased back, but just enough to mold his cock with her palm.

  “Come on,” she grunted.

  He stroked her again and again. “I want to make sure you’re ready.”

  With a glare, she released him, but only to slip her fingers beneath his waistband and grab his length. And shit, the feel of her skin on his was mind-blowing. When she stroked him a sizzle of heat walked through his bowels, along with a tiny trickle of panic. They could do this, finger each other to heaven. He was pretty fucking close as it was. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more.

  He yanked his hand out and then hers as well, though she resisted. When she protested with a groan, he muttered, “I want to be in you. Now.”

  Kissing her, distracting her from a teasing touch that threatened to unman him, he felt around for the condom on the table. Thank God he found it quickly. As he ripped the package open, yanked down his briefs and rolled it on, she watched every move with a glittering gaze.

  And then, when she realized he was ready, she frantically lifted her hips and eased off her panties. She didn’t move nearly quickly enough, so he helped her, yanking them down and tossing them onto the floor. And then he rolled over her.

  His breath caught at her expression, so hopeful, so hungry. But then, he was hopeful and hungry too.

  Because she’d said she liked it rough, he forced her thighs farther apart. Because she’d said she liked his scruff, he took a moment to scrape his stubble over her nipples as he positioned himself…but only a moment because, damn, he could feel her heat. And her snarl incited him to mayhem.

  “Are you ready?” he huffed.

  “Do it.”

  “Are you sure you’re sober?” It was a joke, but her expression was not amused. She sank her fingers into the flesh of his ass and pulled him closer, but he needed no such encouragement.

  In one hard, hot lunge, he drove home.

  She issued a guttural groan and clenched around him, arching up as he plunged deep. Her body closed tightly around him, so tightly it made beads of sweat pop out on his forehead. So good. So fucking good.

  He yanked out and thrust again, this time from a different angle.

  She set her feet on the cot and pushed up into him, meeting him lunge for lunge. Staring down at her fierce expression, he moved over her, harder, faster, deeper. She welcomed him with an agonizing grip, internal shivers that clenched at his cock and sent agonizing trails of bliss through him. Her hands roved, her mouth tasted, tested him. The sensations made him dizzy.

  When she squeezed his ass, the urge to release nearly overcame him, but he held fast, clamping down on the roiling hunger. Because he wanted more. More.

  He yanked out and, taking hold of her hips, rolled her over. Before she had time to react, to brace herself, to protest, he drove deep. Ah, God. Good. So fucking good.

  He began a series of crazed thrusts that made her buck beneath him. Tossing her head and crowing, she lunged back into him to incite a deeper penetration. But there was no deeper penetration. He was sealed with her, in her. He was as deep as he could go.

  He knew that when she came, he’d lose it. Her body was too tight, too responsive, too fricking exquisite for him not to release his hold on the reins. He responded by tightening his grip on her perfect ass and pushing harder, faster.

  He felt her orgasm begin, heard it, smelled it and he gloried in it. He’d brought her here, and she’d brought him. As she closed around him, writhed beneath him, his excitement rose. A shard of ecstasy lanced him. Fire raced through his veins.

  His palm itched.

  Without thought, he landed it, hard, on her ass.

  Her response devastated him. A heinous clench that sent him hurtling right to the edge. She lurched up, back straight, and tossed her hair, staring at him over her shoulder. “Again.” Her lips moved, but no sound emerged. Again.

  He was happy to comply. He covered her wriggling ass with a series of sharp slaps, each of which resulted in yet another hellish squeeze. She tightened like a vise around him…and then she broke.

  As incredible as she’d been, holding on to his cock for dear life, the sudden release was even more magnificent. Ford picked up speed, fucking her at a manic pace even as she came around him.

  She was still quivering and quaking, moaning and cursing when his crisis claimed him, sending him over the cliff with her. Tumbling through a timeless void. But the delirium of the fall was divine.

  It seemed to last forever, this raging bliss, and it left him boneless. But he had the presence of mind to ease out and lever to her side, rather than collapsing on her. He pulled her against him and held her as she gasped for breath and tried to find her bearings.

  He kissed her brow. He knew how she felt. This had been the most magnificent fuck of his life.

  He knew it was only supposed to be a quick ride…but damn. Now that he’d had her, he didn’t think he could let her go.

  Chapter Five

  ‡

  CRYSTAL LAY ON the cot, reeling. A wash of absolute pleasure sheeted though her like a summer rain.

  Never. Never in her life had it been like this. So frantic, so agonizing, so utterly perfect.

  Even now, as his fingers drifted over her skin, soothing her, the waves kept coming, rocking her again and again.

  As she struggled to process this near incomprehensible joy, a niggle of worry nudged her.

  She’d only just met him. He’d kissed her and she’d lost her mind, tumbling into bed with him. She didn’t do things like this. She never had. She wasn’t that kind of person.

  Ah, but she was. She had.

  Mortification crept over her in a red tide. She pulled away, although he tried to keep her there and, in truth, she wanted to stay. It was far too tempting to stay, but she couldn’t. She hunted for her clothes—they were strewn hither and yon—completely aware of his attention on her. It burned.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was low, sleepy, sated.

  She didn’t look at him. “Yeah. It’s just… I… I should go.”

  “Don’t go.” His plea strafed her. Low and gruff. Wounded somehow. She couldn’t help but glance at him, and damn, she wished she hadn’t. As sexy as he was in his jeans and boots and buttoned-up shirt, he was even more alluring like this—hard and tanned and completely bare before her. Her gaze skated over his rock-hard abs, his pecs, his flat belly…and lower. Though no longer the turgid force that had rocked her world, his cock was still tantalizing, draped over his thigh.

  Her mouth filled with drool and she swallowed. “I…should eat.” She’d already
eaten, but he didn’t know that. What she really should do was leave. Escape. Attempt to find her footing again in a world that had suddenly tipped askew.

  When he grinned, her knees locked. It had that much power. “Right. Gotta make up for the calories we just burned.” To her horror, he stood and began to dress as well.

  “Wh-what are you doing?” Practically a squawk.

  “Going with you.”

  “With me?”

  “You bet.” He pulled on his briefs, his jeans and then his boots. Then he tugged on his tee shirt and his chambray, buttoning it up. And she stood there. And stared. It was such a domesticated scene. A luring fantasy. Here he was, this gorgeous guy, the physical manifestation of all her sexual fancies, casually dressing in front of her after a scorching, unanticipated tryst. In a barn.

  Heat flooded her face again and she turned away. Not that she didn’t want to face him; she simply didn’t know how.

  What he must think of her. Yesterday she’d been all loosey-goosey, crawling all over him and kissing him, for God’s sake, and today he’d crooked a proverbial finger and she’d fallen into his bed like a whore on roller skates.

  No doubt, after today, after they left the ranch, she’d never see him again. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or depressed.

  The walk back to the house took longer than the one to the barn, but that was the way it was with walks of shame, she imagined. She’d never made one before so she didn’t know for sure.

  They didn’t talk and though his fingers brushed against hers in what she suspected was an opening to take his hand, she didn’t.

  They were almost to the house when he spoke. She was so wrapped up in her mortification, his voice made her jump. “Crystal, are you sure you’re okay?”

  She looked up at him. Their gazes locked. She didn’t see disgust in his—thank God—but what was there was even more humbling. Warmth. Compassion. Worry.

  She tangled her fingers together. “I want you to know…I don’t do…that. I’ve never done that.”

  His lips quirked. “I know.”

  “I mean, I’m not…”

  “Not what?”

  “I’m not loose. Not that kind of loose.”

  The twinkle in his eye sent a sizzle through her. “Oh, I know you’re not loose.” She wasn’t sure how she knew—his expression, the tone of his voice or the fact that he’d already proved himself the master of a well-delivered zinger—but she knew his assurance was not a reference to her sexual morals.

  She smacked his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah.” He sobered and took her shoulders in his palms. She tried to ignore that they were standing right in front of the house where everyone in the dining room could see them. “I know you’re not that kind of woman, Crystal.”

  “How can you know?”

  “I can tell.”

  She shouldn’t have let him kiss her on her forehead—hell, she could see Cody standing in the window, watching with far too much interest—but it was so nice to have him close again, to smell him, to feel his warmth. She nearly sank into it.

  “We should go in.” She gestured to the window. “People are staring.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Cody’s not people.”

  “Still.”

  “Okay. But listen. I’m here all weekend. I’d like to…see you again.”

  Her heart lurched. She knew he wasn’t talking about looking at her. “I…ah…” God, she’d like to do that again. It might be her only chance for a long, long time.

  “Tonight? Maybe?” He was so damn cute, grinning like that.

  She couldn’t help but respond. “Maybe.”

  He waggled a finger. “No alcohol?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll probably never have tequila again.”

  “Never say never.” He chuckled as they made their way into the house together. His hand was warm on the small of her back. She tried not to think about how much she liked it. The guy was a stripper, or at the very least a dancer who dressed up like a cowboy on the weekends for the delectation of horny housewives. Who knew how many of them he bedded in the barn. There wasn’t much future with that kind of guy.

  It was damn depressing, because in every other way—from the scruff on his chin to the tip of his boots to the undeniable fact that he was a gentleman—she wanted him.

  When they stepped into the dining room, Cody greeted them with a smile. Okay, more of a smirk. Crystal sent him a glower, but that just made him laugh.

  Erin and Jenn were seated at the table, making love to their coffee mugs. Jenn waved. “Morning!” she chirped.

  Crystal poured herself another cup of coffee and slid in across from her friends. Erin studied her with an intensity that made Crystal bark, “What?”

  Erin shrugged. “I dunno. You look different.” She nudged Jenn. “Doesn’t she look different?”

  “I dunno.” Jenn winked. “I was focused on the hottie she came in with.” She peeped over her shoulder at where her cowboy was filling two plates. Two plates. He must have really burned some calories. “Who is he? Yummy.”

  Crystal shrugged. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to drink her coffee in peace.

  “Seriously. You look different.” Erin could be like a dog with a bone. “Some kind of…glow.”

  Heat crawled up her cheeks. “I am not glowing,” Crystal hissed.

  “You kind of are. And you look…happy.”

  “I’m always fucking happy.” A snarl.

  “Happier than usual.” Erin shrugged. “Don’t snap at me. I’m just makin’ an observation here.”

  “Well, don’t.”

  Crystal jumped as someone slid into the seat beside her. Someone large and warm and fragrant. Someone who stole all her oxygen. He set one plate on the table in front of himself, and the other before her.

  She gaped at him. A mistake, because their gazes locked and she felt herself being pulled into the vortex of his attraction. “What is this?” she croaked.

  He shrugged. “Breakfast.” When she didn’t pick up her fork, he did, curling her fingers around it. “Eat.”

  She stared at the pile of pancakes. Her appetite roared. But… “I don’t eat carbs.”

  He drizzled pancake syrup over the pat of butter melting on his flapjack and then did the same to hers. “Oh, go on. One bite won’t kill you.”

  Crystal took a bite, too befuddled to resist his command. The pancake was absolutely perfect. Her taste buds broke into song. It had been so long. So long since—

  When she looked up, she saw both Jenn and Erin staring at her with wide eyes. In tandem, like they had practiced or something, their attention flicked to him, and then back again.

  The delight on their features was mortifying.

  “Hi, there,” Erin cooed, thrusting out a hand. “I’m Erin and this is Jenn.”

  He stopped eating and shook their hands. “Pleasure, ma’am. Ma’am.”

  “And you are…?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a screech of outrage rocked the room.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Crystal whipped around and gaped at Porsche, who’d just entered the dining room. She’d never heard her bellow like that. It occurred to her that Porsche was glaring at her cowboy through narrowed eyes.

  He leaned back and offered a smile. “Well, hey there, Porsche,” he said in a friendly tone—one diametrically opposed to Porsche’s. “Happy birthday, by the way.” He unfolded himself from the seat and yanked her into his arms and pressed a loud, wet smooch on her cheek, even though she howled and wriggled to get free. And then he gave her a noogie.

  Porsche pushed away and smacked him. Smacked him. “Damn it, Ford. Why are you here?”

  As she watched this interaction, something unpleasant curled in Crystal’s gut. Realization slammed into her like a tsunami.

  He wasn’t a stripper. He wasn’t even a dancer.

  He was Porsche�
�s brother. Ford.

  Even as she reeled with that knowledge, the blood in her veins warmed. Ford. His name was Ford. It suited him.

  “I guess that’s Ford,” Erin murmured.

  “Umm hmm,” Jennifer said, but it wasn’t in agreement as much as appreciation.

  “She never mentioned he was so…”

  Crystal frowned at Erin. Why her friend’s glimmering interest ticked her off was a mystery. “So, what?”

  “So…” Erin waggled her fingers. “That.”

  “Why did he bring you breakfast?” Jenn asked. Other than a frown, Crystal ignored her.

  Porsche smacked Ford on the chest again. “Seriously. What are you doing here?”

  “Here?” He looked around the room with a patently innocent expression on his face. “Why, I’m helping Cody this weekend. Aren’t I, Cody?”

  “Oh, yeah. Helping me.”

  “With the fence.” Ford jammed a thumb in some vague direction. “In the north forty.”

  “South forty,” Cody corrected.

  “Yeah. That.” Ford hooked his thumbs in his pockets and grinned down at his little sister. “Did I mention, happy birthday?”

  “You did. And you don’t fool me for a minute, Ford. You’re here to spy on me.”

  His eyes widened. “Why would I need to spy on you? You’re a grown-up. You can make your own decisions.”

  Porsche crossed her arms. “Well, thank you very much for that.”

  “Such as spending the most special day of your life with strippers, rather than your devoted brother.” Though there was a teasing tone to his voice, Crystal caught a hint of pain in his words.

  “Damn it, Ford… How did you know where I was?”

  “I got a text.”

  “From who?”

  “I am not at liberty to say. Were you even going to stop by the house and say hi?”

  Porsche gusted a heavy sigh. “I didn’t mean to leave you out.”

  “Didn’t you? Porsche, we’re the only family each other has.”

  “I just wanted to have adult fun…without you hovering.”

  “I do not hover.”