Oh Lord. He could have her in an instant, as hard and aching as he was. But what pleasure would she have in that? Reece wanted her to revel in the gift as well as the giving. Easy was the way to go with his beauty.
His hand began a gentle thrusting as his thumb pressed into her tiny nub of pleasure. The contact with her clit drove her into his hand and elicited an exquisite squeal of pleasure on Lacy’s part. Good God, the thrill that sound gave him.
“You have to do more, Reece. I need more.”
“Easy, Lace. You don’t want me to rush it, do you?”
“Yes! Oh please, I need all of you.”
Reese eased in another finger, applying more pressure to stretch her wider. To his relief, her body responded warmly, relaxing at his touch.
“I mean now, or I’ll do it myself.”
Reece suppressed a roll of laughter. “I can’t refuse you anything.”
He rolled on top of her, his elbows supporting most of his weight on either side of her slight body. Reece watched her with uncertainty. He barely breeched her, pausing to halt his intrusion into her sweet body should she change her mind. She moved into him in invitation. Lacy didn’t close her eyes or hide the awe of the moment from him. Her wide eyes took him in, urging him on in wordless wonder.
Lacy’s legs crawled up his hip and hooked behind his back. She locked her ankles and tightened her grip on him.
With one easy thrust, he slid inside her. Warmth and moisture engulfed him in an envelope of intense pleasure. If he wasn’t already on his knees, the ecstasy of Lacy around him would have brought him there. A steady throb of tension coiled from his lower back to his balls as he began languorous thrusts to sate his unquenchable thirst for Lacy.
Lacy clung to him, meeting every thrust and sway with her body. If he hurt her, she never showed it. She writhed beneath him, inciting a surge of heat and desire the likes of which Reece had never before known with any other woman.
Her body tightened around him, revealing the depths of a desire as deep and fathomless as his. Reese growled deep in his throat as he moved within her, grinding his hips tight against her supple body. The wonderful, feminine sounds erupting quietly from Lacy’s graceful throat drove him closer to release. The pull of her legs around his back and the constant dig of her fingers into his flesh brought him nearer the edge.
In a moment Lacy climaxed and a quiet scream erupted from her lungs. Her body clenched around him, pulsing and throbbing. One more thrust and Reese felt his world explode as his release surged through him. His grasp on her tightened, pulling her closer into him. He breathed in the scent of clean Lacy and grass as his body tightened as rigid as a board.
The intimate joining of their bodies melded Lacy to his heart and soul. She was his. He just prayed she wouldn’t give him any guff about it. Lacy Wills was all he ever wanted of this life.
It took a few minutes for his body to relax and come down from the pinnacle to which Lacy had taken him. Reece rolled off her, nestling beside her, one arm draped across her middle and his head resting on the other arm. He could spend all his days touching this beautiful woman. Caring for and making her happy was all he needed.
Lacy stretched beside him. Her hand rubbed a warm trail up his arm as she nudged a shoulder into his chest. Her eyes fluttered half-open, giving her a dreamy look. A smile the size of Texas graced her lush mouth. “That was…that was so incredible. Reece McCord, I had no idea.”
“That was pretty darned wonderful, darlin’.” His hand rubbed lazy circles over her belly. “I never felt like this before, Lacy.”
“Was this your first time, too?” Her eyes took him in with incredulity.
“No, honey. I mean this is the first time I’ve made love. Those other times didn’t mean anything like this.” Reece worked the muscles of his throat. His free hand encased the side of her face. “I love you, Lacy Wills. I want you in my bed every night and every morning. And if your brother ever gets wind of this, he’ll kill me. So you better tell me you’ll marry me now. I really don’t want a shotgun wedding any more than you do.”
Lacy pushed against his chest. “What makes you so sure I want to marry you, Reece? There’s plenty of good ol’ boys interested in me.”
“That may be true. But you aren’t in love with any of ’em. You’re in love with me, Lacy Wills. There isn’t anything you can say to make me believe otherwise.”
A delicate rosy hue colored her cheeks. She couldn’t hide the truth from him. He knew her too well.
“I don’t want a shotgun wedding. I guess you have me in a spot. I’ll have to marry you, Reece McCord.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close. She’d caught him unawares. It made him the happiest man in the world.
SOME LIKE IT DIRTY
Kimber Vale
Jenna McManus stood on the side of the road and kicked the tire of her Lexus RX Hybrid with a filthy Lanvin heel. The crystal flower perched atop the pricey platform pump was already coated with a layer of grime that made it unrecognizable. The tune to “Rhinestone Cowboy” popped into her head as she grimaced at her ruined footwear. It only made her angrier.
“How anyone can live in these conditions is beyond me!”
She was talking to herself in the middle of a deserted stretch of Oklahoma road. Well, not completely deserted.
Off in the distance, a cluster of black and white cows milled about, grazing for green tufts of grass in the scorching afternoon sun.
“Dammit! I knew I never should have gotten an electric car!” Jenna struck the offending piece of tin once more, this time with a fist. The clunk of flesh against the metal roof seemed to reverberate, echoing in a rhythmic beat, until she recognized the sound. Pounding hooves thundered in the distance. She shaded her eyes with an aching hand and turned to see a man on horseback. He sat tall on his massive animal and was accompanied by a lightning-fast blur of a dog, whirling around the bovines and whipping them into a tidy bunch.
Jenna took a final look at her cell phone.
Great, still no reception.
With a huff of resignation, she flounced off across the dry earth, her heels sinking lower than her heart. This trip was turning out to be a trillion times worse than anticipated. Waving her hands over her head, she saw the cowboy take notice and turn his mount in her direction.
Thank God. There must be a land line around here somewhere.
It was unreal that her company, Natural You, had sent her to bum-fuck nowhere to scout out one of their organic milk suppliers for ad campaign potential.
What potential?
This place was a wasteland. The company would do better to build an entire set and hire people to dance around in cow costumes. Sure, the public loved the idea of natural and organic products, but generally speaking, they weren’t all that into nature. It was disgusting and dirty when you got up close to it.
“Shit!” She stepped in a cow pie. If the shoes weren’t garbage before, they certainly were now. Maybe she could expense them.
The stranger galloped toward her at a nerve-jangling clip. The dog—black, white, and furry—streaked along at his side. Between man, horse, and hound, she imagined being mowed down. No wonder the cows were so compliant. The threesome was fearsome.
He reined in next to her amid a swirl of floating dust. Jenna stepped back and landed her other shoe in the same pile of cow crap. The dog sat, wagging a friendly tail and almost smiling. Jenna gazed up at the face under the ten-gallon hat. The eyes were shadowed, his image backlit by the afternoon sun, so she was unable to make out his features. But she could swear he was grinning as well.
“Better watch your step, there, miss. This is no place for fancy shoes.”
He swung off his saddle; on foot, he still towered nearly a foot over her head—even with her four-inch heels. She could see his face now: tan, with generous lips that quirked up in an ironic half-smile. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he gazed down at her dirty feet. His entire body seemed to be coated in a
layer of filth. His blue jeans were smeared with brown handprints. His once-white T-shirt was now a shade of tan, with yellow patches under the arms from a full day’s sweat. It hugged his chiseled chest, leaving Jenna’s mouth even drier than the eighty-degree weather demanded. She swallowed—or tried to—and cleared her throat.
She held a hand out to shake his gritty one. It was warm and powerful, despite the dirt. “Hi. Thanks for coming over to help. I desperately need to get to a phone. I have a meeting to cancel and a tow truck to call. Stupid hybrid car.”
He stared at her in silence as if trying to translate her foreign language.
“God forbid you guys actually have cell reception out here! A person could die stranded on this stretch of road.” She smiled, hoping to reel him into the conversation. “I can’t believe they actually call this piece of asphalt an interstate. It’s barely a step above a goat trail.”
The cowboy raised an eyebrow, but the slight smile remained on his delicious mouth. It looked more challenging than sympathetic. She was totally bungling this.
“I’ll give you a ride to my ranch so you can make your calls.” He held the reins of his dark brown, obviously male horse, and gestured for her to climb up.
“What? I can’t ride on that thing. This is a knee-length pencil skirt. It doesn’t do horses.” It was a Burberry, but she spared this guy the brand name; she doubted he knew any tags beyond Hanes and Levi’s.
Her eyes skimmed down his jean-clad legs. Scuffed brown boots stepped directly in front of her.
“I’ll just walk,” she said, wondering why he was suddenly in her personal space. She could smell him now; he emanated a musky scent born of sweat and soil. A fine blend of animal and man—or maybe it was all animal. Something about this guy was decidedly undomesticated.
His rough palms landed on her hips, grazing her ass as they worked down the sides of her tight skirt.
“What are you doing?”
She hated how her voice sounded breathless, how her nipples were poking through the thin silk of her blouse in response to his touch. She wanted to sound angry instead of aroused. Major fail.
“Just lending a helpin’ hand to a damsel in distress,” he growled as the sound of tearing fabric startled her out of her unbidden fantasy. The warm breeze that blew across the prairie was suddenly caressing the flesh of her exposed buttocks. Jenna reached a fearful hand back to grasp a bare cheek. The two-inch slit in her three-hundred-dollar garment had grown exponentially.
“Up you go,” he said, stepping behind her and lifting her under the arms as if she were a newborn calf. He tossed her into the saddle, the leather warm and supple between her legs. The crotch of her silk thong was a token barrier between her naked skin and the butter-soft hide. The skirt was hiked up around her hips, betraying the garter that held up her silk hose. Jenna was certain her ass was on display for the stranger.
“What the hell are you thinking?”
She tried to sound authoritative. Outraged. Where was the Jenna from the boardroom meetings—the woman who drove fear into the hearts of new hires and old-timers alike? Somehow, unthinkably, her voice came out squeaky and panicked. The dirt-streaked cowboy stuck a boot tip in a stirrup and swung up behind her.
Her crotch was pushed forward, grinding responsive nerve endings against the unyielding saddle horn. She felt his chest, warm granite against her back, as his arms encircled her to coax the stallion into a rolling canter. Jenna couldn’t ignore the sensation of his legs wrapped around hers. His thick, denim-encased manhood was pressed against her bare ass. It surged against her with each jarring step. Her pussy was getting wet from the dual sensations of being sandwiched between hard leather and hard man.
He destroyed your clothing without so much as a “pardon me.” He’s more animal than man. Stop getting turned on by the brute!
But that was easier thought than done. That sliver of feral beast was an incredible turn on. The longer they rode—his burnished forearms brushing against her erect nipples as he pulled on the reins—the hotter Jenna became. She could almost swear the size of the hard bulge snug against her thong was growing bigger with each bounce. Without conscious thought, she wiggled against his cock and was rewarded with a low groan that rumbled in her ear.
A log house materialized in the distance. Actually, the term house didn’t do the place justice. It was a sprawling compound, backed by a massive barn and a spacious fenced-in area full of cows.
“Wow. Is this your place?”
“Always belonged to my family, but my sister got married and moved to Texas. I’m the last one keepin’ up with it. My folks have been gone for a number of years now.”
She loved the sound of his drawl, she realized suddenly. Low and soulful, sweet and Southern; it made her think of Elvis and molasses. Or maybe Elvis covered in molasses. No one in California spoke like that; she could almost guarantee it.
“Phone’s in the kitchen, straight on through. Feel free to make your calls and get fixed up.”
He heaved her off of the seat and the cool air that met her naked backside was disappointing after his warm cocoon. She turned to see him grinning as he looked over her exposed skin. If he wasn’t still up on that horse she’d like to slap him. Or perhaps kiss him.
Definitely both.
“I gotta go pick up those stragglers I left out there. Be right back.” He spun the horse around and galloped off in a riot of hammering hooves and billows of brown.
“Wonderful,” she spat at his retreating form. “I’ll go find your sewing kit and make myself presentable for my meeting with the head of the Remington Dairy Corporation. Better yet, I’ll just stay like this and hope he has a splendid sense of humor and an eye for a round ass. Might make our business negotiations run more smoothly.”
The front door was unlocked, and Jenna kicked off her revolting heels before stepping into the rustic yet elegantly furnished home. It was amazingly tidy. Not at all what she’d imagined. The décor was masculine and modern, with clean lines and a simplicity that bordered on Spartan. Somehow, it managed to be both chic and warmly inviting at the same time. The natural wood and comfortable earth-toned fabrics created a beautiful and relaxing space.
She had wondered whether or not there was a Mrs. Cowboy, but not anymore. This place screamed testosterone.
The kitchen was modern and streamlined; the phone easy to find on the spotless black countertop. Jenna dug her cell out of her clutch and scrolled through to the number for Mr. Trent Remington. She got his voicemail and left a brief message asking to reschedule on account of car trouble. Her trip into rodeo hell would be delayed at least one extra day by this major inconvenience.
Next, she called her secretary in L.A. and asked the dutiful woman to send a tow truck for the rental lemon. Originally, the notion of a “green” vehicle had appealed to her. Mr. Remington was known to be a zealous tree-hugger and a little ass-kissing had never hurt her career.
Whatever. She wouldn’t repeat the gesture. Tomorrow, she would show up for their meeting in a tried-and-true gas guzzler. At least traditional cars had been around long enough to iron out all of the bugs.
Wandering around the lower level, Jenna found a living area, a killer media room, and a huge four-season porch that would probably showcase a gorgeous sunset. She stood before the two-story window, watching the first pink and orange wisps of color paint the horizon. For a moment she could understand the allure of rural life. The view was sublime.
The touch on her back caused her to jump, and she spun around to face her grungy rescuer—only now he was clean. His towel-dried hair stood up in erratic waves of sun-tipped chocolate brown. A day or two of stubble still darkened his sculpted cheeks and strong chin, but he had changed into a fresh pair of jeans. The cowboy had neglected to put on anything else.
His tawny chest was chiseled, with a fine layer of gilded hair sprinkled across his substantial pectorals. She looked down at his sockless feet and realized that even they were attractive, tanned. Oddly sexy.<
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“You’ve got quite a view here.” She knew how it came out; knew she was staring at his amazing body and licking her lips.
“I was thinkin’ the same thing when I walked in.”
Jenna glanced up to see the sly smile on his face. Up close, she noticed the dimples that showcased his gorgeous grin. Shit. She was a sucker for dimples. Then his words sank in—she’d forgotten that her ass was still bare and exposed.
“This is an expensive skirt, I’ll have you know.”
“I’ll buy you a new one. You couldn’t have walked all the way here in your city-girl shoes.”
She took a deep breath for a scathing retort, but his hands stopped her. They were on her waist once more, sliding toward her backside. He smelled of soap, with an underlying virile essence a thousand showers could never wash away. His natural male scent had her head spinning and her hormones raging in response. It was like he was the alpha of his species, pheromones and all, and she was helpless against his allure.
“I s’pose I could’ve taken it off instead.” His nimble fingers found her zipper and slid it down with unbearable indolence. The fabric fell around her feet, leaving nothing but thin silk and lacey underclothes between his searing gaze and her trembling body. Suddenly that barrier felt too oppressive.
“Why stop there?” She unbuttoned her blouse as she spoke, enjoying the hungry gleam in his swimming-pool eyes as he followed her every move. “You could have draped me across your saddle buck-naked like some prisoner you were taking back to your hideout.”
His tongue moved greedily over his luscious lips. Jenna arched her back, thrusting pert nipples at him as she unclasped her bra and slid it off, dropping it on the floor.
“So now that you have me here, sir, what will you do with me?”
Faster than a striking rattler, his hand shot out and pulled her against him. His hungry mouth covered her lips, ravishing them inside and out. Rough stubble scratched against her cheeks as he kissed her deeply, twining his tongue with her own.
Cowboy Lust: Erotic Romance for Women Page 15
