The Bachelor Cowboy

by Jessica Clare

  “You all right?” Jack touched her back, standing behind her.

  She straightened, blushing, and wiped her face with a towel again. “That was just . . . a little more than I expected. Sorry.”

  He gave her a sexy grin that made her flutter all over. “Never apologize. You were perfect.” Jack leaned in and kissed her.

  Layla slid her arms around his neck, loving the feel of his bare skin against hers. He was damp with sweat, his skin flushed, and she loved that his disheveled, sated expression was because of her. “You might not want to kiss me after what I just did.”

  “Like I care?” He kissed her again, as if just to prove that he didn’t. “You did it for me.”

  “Not just for you,” she pointed out. “I liked doing it.” Her hands slid down his sides and then she grabbed his ass, unable to resist. “I liked touching you. I liked all of it, Jack.”

  “Then I am the luckiest man alive.” He kissed her again. “Smoking-hot girlfriend who loves touching her boyfriend.”

  “I think your standards are a little lax,” she joked. “Not sure about the smoking-hot part, and I’m pretty sure most women love touching their boyfriends.”

  “You let me be the judge,” he told her, and kissed her again, his tongue flicking over hers enticingly. “Come on and hop on the bed for me.”

  For a moment, she was confused. “Shouldn’t we get going? I brought a dress in my purse—”

  His brows drew together. “Not until you get your turn, baby.”

  Oh, right. While she was aroused, she also was starting to feel awfully shy. She’d worn the lingerie and blown him because she wanted to. She didn’t want him to feel as if he needed to reciprocate out of obligation. “You don’t have to.”

  Jack snorted and picked her up. “I don’t have to do anything. I want to, and that’s the difference, Layla.” He set her down gently on the bed. “You think I haven’t been dying to get my mouth on your pretty little pussy?”

  Her breath caught. “Have you?”

  “Fuck yes.” The look he gave her was intense. “You think I’m content to just use my hand when my mouth could be between your thighs? Baby, you’ve got me all wrong.” He leaned over her on the bed. “Give me a kiss, and I’ll get Oscar settled again.”

  She kissed him, just as requested, and remained on the edge of the bed, nervous and a little jittery. She still had the taste of him in her mouth, the feel of his cock fresh in her memory as she’d touched him. Layla shifted her weight on the bed and, yup, her panties were damp. She took off her smudged glasses and reached up for the pencil that held her bun of hair. Oh. At some point it had come free, and she hadn’t even realized. She’d been too wrapped up in Jack.

  The bathroom door shut, and she looked up at Jack. He was still as naked as could be, and to her surprise, his cock was at half mast. For some reason, she’d imagined it deflating like a balloon after he came, but that was dumb, wasn’t it? She liked the look of him naked, though. God, he was beautiful, and just as she’d suspected, there was zero fat anywhere on him. How on earth did he end up with a girl like her?

  “I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind,” Jack drawled as he approached the bed. “Stop panicking. I said you were gorgeous, and you are. You want me to show you how gorgeous?”

  “Yes, please?” As nervous as she was, Layla was not about to turn down oral sex. She was nervous, but she was absolutely not crazy.

  “Sit back on the bed for me, baby.” He gave her a confident smile, his gaze roaming over her again. “Let me enjoy looking at you.”

  She wiggled backward a little, her heels catching on the edge of the bed as she scooted back. She thought for a moment and lifted one foot in the air. “Should I take the shoes off?”

  “Hell no. Those are sexy as hell, and I want them on your legs when you have them over my ears.”

  “Have what over your ears?” she stammered.

  “Your legs.”

  The visual made her weak. Hot need pulsed through her core. “Right. Of course.” Man, she felt like a virgin.

  She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if it was possible to feel any more awkward. She’d felt sexy and in charge when she was the one giving pleasure, but now that it was her turn, she just felt . . . weird. Not that she didn’t want it, of course. She did. It was just . . . she had been the only one to ever touch that area before Jack, and now he was going to put his face down there, and her nerves were eating her alive.

  “You’re tense,” he pointed out unnecessarily as he rubbed his hands up and down her legs. “You okay?”

  “Just nervous.”

  “Why?” He chuckled. “It’s me. I’ve had my fingers all over this pretty pussy. I’ve made you come all over my hand a half a dozen times this week. What about this is weird?”

  “It’s weird because your face is involved.”

  “Did your face have any complaints about my dick?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Exactly. So mine has zero complaints about your pussy. Well one, actually.”

  She tensed. “What?”

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh, sending ticklish sensations all through her body. “That it’s taken so long for me to get here.”

  Layla let out a deep breath. “Don’t do that to me, Jack. Not funny.”

  “I wasn’t being funny.” He kissed the inside of her thigh again. “I meant every word of it. You think you’re the only one that fantasized about this? About going down on the other?” He nibbled inward, moving closer to her center, and her body shivered in response. “I’ve been thinking about putting my mouth on you ever since I saw your face last fall.”

  That made her sit up a little. She propped up on her elbows, startled. “You what?”

  “Yup.” He grinned at her from between her thighs and hooked her legs over his shoulders. “You were wearing your glasses and had your hair pulled up and you were wearing a sweater with hot dogs on it. It was the most random thing I’d ever seen, and you were the cutest. You gave me this look that practically dared me to say anything about your sweater, pushed those glasses up your nose, and then looked right through me.” Jack grinned and leaned forward, pressing a kiss right to the crotch of her panties. “I went home and jerked off to you that night.”

  The breath shuddered from her lungs. “You did?”

  “Oh, hell yeah,” he murmured, and then he licked up and down her covered slit. It shouldn’t have felt nearly as obscene as it did, but, oh god, did it ever. She wanted to writhe against his mouth, even as she wanted to grab his face and press it there again . . . or make him take her panties off and do it to her bare skin. “Like I told you before, you’re all over my spank bank.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to jerk off to . . . celebrities?” she asked, her voice stuttering as he lapped at her again. Oh dear god, he was such a tease, and it was such a turn-on, too. The next time he licked her, she whimpered and lifted her hips, trying to follow along with his tongue.

  “Eh. Celebrities are boring. I like thinking about you.” His mouth landed at the apex of her folds, and he pressed there, watching her reactions. “I like thinking about the expressions you make when you come. When my mouth is on you. That’s what turns me on.”

  She moaned, half wanting to flop back down on her back again, and partially wanting to watch his mouth on her like an utter pervert.

  Her breath caught.

  “Can I take these off now or do you need a few more minutes to get used to the idea?” Jack pressed a kiss right over her clit, his gaze meeting hers, and Layla felt as if she was going to melt right into the mattress.

  She swallowed and nodded. “You can take them off.”

  “Not that they’re not pretty,” he told her, a smile curving his gorgeous mouth. “But I prefer what’s underneath.” He put h
is hand on the waist of her panties and tugged them down her legs, easing her thighs back off his shoulders so he could remove her underpants. They caught on the heels of her shoes, because of course they did. Layla always seemed to be awkward when it came to sexy moments, but Jack didn’t laugh or tease her. He just worked the fabric off her shoe while she flushed with the awkwardness of it, and then he tossed them across the room, where they landed atop his nightstand.

  “If you meant for those to be in the laundry basket, you missed,” she joked, though it came out far more wooden and unnatural than she’d wanted.

  “No, I wanted them right there.” Jack winked at her before hooking her legs back over his shoulders again and rubbing the stubble of his jaw along the inside of her thigh. “I’m keeping them.”

  “What?”

  “To jerk off with later. Gonna imagine peeling them off you again and come with them wrapped around my dick.” He gave her a wicked smile and tugged her hips down, pulling her toward him on the bed. “Quit scooting away.”

  Was she scooting away? “Sorry.”

  “Are you still nervous?”

  Layla gave a choking laugh. “Of course.”

  “Why?” He seemed genuinely puzzled at this.

  “Because you’re you, and I’ve never done this, and what if—”

  He shook his head, rolling his eyes at her excuses, and before she could finish her sentence, his mouth was on her folds, his fingers pushing them apart even as he licked her.

  The words died in her throat. A squeak might have choked out of her, but mostly, she was just shocked. It felt . . . different than she’d thought it would. She hadn’t fallen into a puddle of bliss at the touch of his tongue, and porn (and books) had made that seem like the case.

  “You still nervous?” he asked, kissing her again, his mouth hot and wet right over her clit.

  Layla swallowed. “Not . . . not as much.”

  “Good.” He gave her pussy another lazy lick of his tongue, and she shivered, watching the obscene sight. His mouth looked so pink and wet against her, and when he made contact, her body made noises. Sloppy, wet noises.

  She didn’t know how she felt about that.

  “You want me to stop?” he asked between kisses.

  Layla shook her head, mute, as his tongue pressed against her clit again. It really was the filthiest thing to watch, him tonguing her pussy, and she couldn’t stop staring.

  As she watched, his tongue circled around her clit, and Layla shivered. That felt . . . there were no words. And when he put his entire mouth against her and sucked gently on her clit, she gasped. Okay, now that she was getting past her initial trepidation, she was liking this. Her hands slid to his hair, because she was desperate to touch him, to anchor herself somehow. He made a low sound of approval in his throat and didn’t lift his head from her folds, too focused on the task at hand. He felt good, she decided. His tongue was teasing and stroking in all the right ways, and she was wet enough that the glide of his mouth against her clit had a delicious feeling to it. With a little sigh, she relaxed, her head falling back on the mattress.

  She didn’t stay relaxed for long.

  It snuck up on her, she decided. One minute she was lazily enjoying his mouth on her and the next, her hips were lifting when he sucked on her flesh. The pleasure had ramped up, and instead of being something to distractedly enjoy, it had turned into the utter focus of her body. When he rubbed a finger against the opening to her core, she whimpered. God, when did his tongue start feeling so damn good? She lifted her head to look down at him and their eyes met, and she shuddered, moaning as he continued to flick a steady pattern against her with the tip of his tongue. Oh god. Okay, yeah, she got it now. She understood why everyone went crazy for oral sex.

  He was absolutely ruining her for other orgasms.

  And when Jack pushed into her with his finger, the dual sensations of his mouth on her and the pressure inside her made her buck. “Jack,” she panted, an aching whine in her voice. “Oh god, Jack.”

  “I’ve got you,” he breathed against her pussy, and thrust his finger into her again with a slow, steady motion. He dragged it back and forth, pausing to tease at the entrance of her core, where she was the most sensitive.

  She whimpered again when he added a second finger, stretching her, and his thrusting began to take on a faster pace. The noises Layla was making were downright embarrassing, but she didn’t care, didn’t care that she was making those little whiny grunts with every pump of his fingers into her, all the while his mouth made lascivious noises on her pussy and licked her in ways that felt like they should be against the law.

  Then, he . . . did something. His finger moved inside her, touching a different spot, and it was like gasoline being poured onto a fire. Layla gasped and practically came off the bed, crying out. Her fingers curled tighter in his hair, and when he tried to lift his head, she moaned and pushed him right back down. She ignored his chuckle of amusement, because she was so damn close, and when he kept rubbing and licking, her hips quaked and she moved along with him until the orgasm swept over her a moment later, shattering in its intensity. The noise she made when she came was utterly ridiculous—it might have been his name mixed with a cussword—and her pussy clenched so hard and so often that her entire body felt as if it was shaking. Jack lifted his head and began kissing the inside of her thigh instead, his fingers sliding away from her body, and he held her as the orgasm raced through her, until she could breathe again and the stars swimming in her vision disappeared.

  “Holy . . .” Layla breathed, staring up at the ceiling again. She felt boneless and hollowed out and . . . god, so damn good.

  Jack chuckled again, kissing the inside of her thigh. “That’s my girl.” He moved up onto the bed, lying down beside her, and put his arms around her waist. He kissed her shoulder, watching her face. “How was that?”

  “I . . . have no words.”

  “You liked?” He sounded pleased.

  Layla made a noise in her throat. “I liked, yeah.”

  “Not shy anymore?” When she shook her head, he pressed another kiss to her shoulder. “So you wouldn’t object if I did that again? Repeatedly?”

  She looked at him as if he was crazy. “Object? Never. I think you’ve ruined me for everything else.”

  He grinned, looking rather satisfied with himself. “You say that, but maybe someday we’ll do it all, hmm? Reserve judgment until then.”

  Layla was feeling good—and, okay, pretty frisky after that intense orgasm—and she turned on her side, facing him. She hooked a leg around his and shrugged. “We could always do it right now.”

  Jack smiled at her and then leaned in and gave her the most chaste kiss ever—a peck on the nose. “Maybe after I show you my something special?”

  Right. He’d wanted her to come over for a reason. “Is it here?”

  “No, we have to drive somewhere. But it’s not far, I promise.”

  She wanted to pout and crawl back under the covers . . . or basically just twine herself around him until he gave in and wanted to have sex, but one look at Jack and she gave up on that idea. He looked excited and nervous about something, like a kid on Christmas morning who was half afraid that Santa had brought him nothing but coal. Whatever this was he wanted to show her, it meant a lot to him.

  So she leaned forward and gave him a kiss. “I brought a dress. Let me change.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Layla was not doing well with the whole dating thing. After this afternoon? She was pretty much ready to devote herself entirely to Jack, his hands, and his mouth. The rest of Jack could come along, too, she thought with a dopey smile as she watched him drive. Maybe it was endorphins that were racing through her, but Layla felt incredibly good. Like she could conquer the world with Jack at her side.

  He glanced over at her as he turned onto the highway. “You kee
p looking over at me.”

  “Sorry.” She wasn’t all that sorry, though. He was nice to look at. Really, really nice.

  “It’s my fault for being so damn cute, right?”

  “I’m not going to answer that and inflate your already tremendous ego,” Layla teased. She turned away from him—which was harder than it should have been—and peered out the front window of the truck. “Please tell me this isn’t another February picnic?”

  “Nope. Something totally different.”

  Layla squinted at the countryside they drove past. While she wasn’t exactly the world’s biggest adventurer, she was familiar enough with the area to know that there wasn’t a whole heck of a lot down this particular road. And when he exited and turned down a side road that she was extremely familiar with, a wry smile of disgust curved her mouth.

  Oh yeah, she knew this area all too well. This was where her mom had bought her dud property, the one that was nothing but a big mud puddle. “I hope you realize there’s nothing out here but hills and a stream,” Layla teased, glancing over at him.

  Jack looked even more excited, which was mystifying. “You’ll see.”

  As they pulled closer and closer to her mom’s land, Layla started to get more and more uncomfortable. She didn’t even like being around here. It was a reminder that her mom was a horrible person who used people and didn’t care who she stepped on . . . and even so, Layla still wanted her approval for some stupid reason. Janet tried to drag her daughter into her schemes, and Layla fought back. It was kind of their thing, the only connection they really shared—the only thing they had in common sometimes.

  Which was sad, but there it was.

  As they pulled up to Janet’s land, Layla felt sick. Her stomach plummeted as she saw the for sale sign with js properties llc on it. That was Janet’s shell company, the one she was constantly trying to find ways to get around tax laws. The one based out of a PO box at some shady strip mall in Nebraska. The one that Janet planned on dissolving the moment she sold her land and got her money.