by Alexis Angel
“This is dangerous?!” I ask him a bit shrilly. “New Jersey?”
He shrugs. “They don’t have Yellow Cabs here,” he says. “And I don’t think you’ll see too many Equinox gyms either, city girl.”
I pause for a second. I don’t know what I’d do without taxi cabs. Drive?
“Danger, danger,” Diesel teases as he pulls me close.
Asshole. I want to slap him again.
But he kisses me.
“They’re bringing the bike too, so after the game we can ride back into the city,” he tells me. “How’s that sound?”
As much guff as I give him, it does sound pretty good, you know?
I try to hide it, but eventually the smile pops through.
Whatever. I kiss him back.
“My outlaw,” I say to him, pulling him close and pressing my body against his.
He grabs my ass and bites my lip.
I’m thinking we take some time and rock the limo if things keep progressing this direction.
Show New Jersey some real dangerous….
;)
Also By Mona Cox
Alicia Vs. Billionaire
Ashley Vs. Boss
Natalie Vs. Prince
Christine Vs. Professor
Kim Vs. Stepbrother
Carla Vs. Cowboy
Lisa Vs. Outlaw
Not sure if you wanna check out Mona? Carla Vs. Cowboy has a preview of the first two chapters after this if Lisa Vs. Outlaw didn’t convince you!
Description
I’m being totally serious when I say I’m gonna ride my cowboy into the sunset…
But does he like me?
I can’t tell.
Is he willing to go the distance?
He swoops in on his horse and rescues me whenever I get into trouble. But will he stick around?
Or will he just go off one morning.
He’s not like any other guy I’ve ever met.
I mean, he’s a cowboy. In New York City. That alone makes him unique, ya know?
All I know is that if he stays, then he’s my lobster.
I would be so freakin’ happy. It’s no question I’d ride on his “saddle” all day till the sun goes down. And straight through to sunrise. And then sunset again.
Geez…I'd need a horse after that because I won’t be able to walk.
*** It's the cute single girl versus the cowboy in this seventh installment from Mona Cox. Guaranteed to be sweet, sassy, steamy, and fun. No cheating or cliffhangers. Happily Ever After? Always, babe ***
86
Carla
I sip my Long Island Iced Tea, glancing out over the city. Even though it isn't nighttime, and really, that's when 230 5th Avenue is the most breathtaking, the view is still awesome. Who wouldn't love sitting in a rooftop garden, the city stretching out in every direction?
Can I just say, it’s way cooler than listening to Lisa and Ashley drool over their boyfriends, and their ginormous engagement rings that astronauts are probably checking out right now. I have to wonder if they’re going to get armed guards to follow them around and protect them from thieves. Those fuckers are massive.
I’m not jealous … just a little worried about someone jabbing an eye out. I mean, talk about a safety hazard!
Not able to stand another minute of their gushing, I finally blurt out, "So I went out on a date last night!" They quit comparing engagement rings long enough to turn and look at me.
Finally.
"It was a bust, though," I admit, taking another sip of the tea, letting the pungent alcohol soothe my nerves. Really, who could expect to be happy after such a date?
"Awww ... honey. What happened?" Ashley takes a sip of her drink, her ring flashing in the sunlight. We were under an umbrella, blocking out direct sunlight, and of course I had on my Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses, but still, the light seemed damn bright to me.
I ignore it. I can't exactly ask Ashley to take off her ring—her symbol of her undying, eternal love for her CEO. Blech. How boring is that? I can't imagine loving a CEO. I might as well fall in love with a banker.
I am not falling in love with a banker.
"Well, I met him at Flash Factory – you know, that dance club over on West 28th Street? Anyway, he was pretty hot and heavy with me all night, bragging about how big his dick was, and then we go back to my place, and ... you guys." My voice breaks with disgust. "His dick was three inches long! I've never seen such a pathetic thing in my life!"
They just bust up laughing and the alcohol in the Long Island Iced Tea allows me to relax enough to laugh, too. It's funny. Now. Twelve hours later.
At the time? Not so much.
"So he's one of those real dicks–" they start laughing again so hard, I have to shout over them, "who won't even go down on a girl," and of fucking course, they stop laughing abruptly, trying to hear what I'm saying, so I end up shouting that into the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. Everyone stops.
Dead silence.
All eyes on me.
I close my eyes, doing my best ostrich imitation, but only if an ostrich can turn about seven shades of red.
What.
Ever.
Finally, the restaurant employees and customers resume their own lives, chatting, and laughing, and working, and my eyes spring open. Leaning forward, I shout whisper, "So he's refusing to go down on me, and I'm not about to touch that ... thing, so there we are in bed, and like, what the fuck was I supposed to do with him then? I threw him out, told him not to come back, and then I had to finish the night with a good round of Slick."
"Slick?" Ashley asks, befuddled. "Who's Slick?"
"My 8-inch dildo, remember?" I say, reminding her. We'd all gone dildo shopping together. She'd been there when I'd bought my best friend. Surely she remembers.
"Oh, right! I forgot. I haven't used mine in so long; I forgot about him. What did I name him...?" She's staring off into space, trying to remember, and all I want to do is throw my drink at her head. I mean, not that I'd waste a perfectly good drink like that, but c'mon. Did she have to rub it in?
"My outlaw's dick is ... perfect," Lisa sighed happily. "Have I showed you the picture of it yet?" She digs out her phone and flips through it, looking for the pic in question. I have to admit, I want to see it, if only to give myself something to fantasize about tonight.
"Roger!" Ashley finally says excitedly.
I swing my head to look at her, the whole world moving a little more than it probably should've with that movement – damn iced tea – and stare.
"What?" Even Lisa is staring at her.
"Roger! That's what I named my dildo," she says triumphantly.
"Who names their dildo 'Roger'?" I demand. "That is the least imaginative name on the planet!"
She just shrugs. "I'd just met a hot guy named Roger. I mean, nothing like Apollo, but he was cute. I figured it was just as good as any name."
I just look at her skeptically. It most definitely is not as good as any name. It is an awful name. It's a horrendous name. It's a terrible name. She should be ashamed of that—
"Here it is!" Lisa held her phone out and waggled it at me. "Look! I told you he was huge."
Oh.
My.
God.
There is no way a cock like that fits inside a person.
I mean, I'm sure how huge her screen is doesn't help anything, but even that aside ...
"He's a monster," I breathe, staring endlessly at the screen. I can't tear my eyes away. It's mesmerizing ...
She pulls it back to stare down at it with a naughty grin, and I could just see she is replaying their last fucking in her mind. Eeewww...I love Lisa and all, but I really don't want to think about her fucking. There are some things I just don’t want in my head, KWIM?
I push away from the table.
"I gotta head out," I slur, and kissing Ashley and Lisa on the cheeks, I take the elevator to the main floor, which totes messes with my stomach; have you ever been drunk on an elev
ator? You feel like you're flying—and then out onto the street. I hesitate for a minute, trying to decide whether to text for an Uber or walk home, and finally decide to hell with it, I'll go for a walk. It's a damn nice day – not muggy or cold or windy or snowing, which has to be some sort of New York City weather miracle – so I might as well enjoy it, right? Plus, it'll give me a chance to burn off some of this alcohol.
Home, in Turtle Bay, is like 30 blocks away, so I guess it's a good thing I'm wearing my Tieks instead of stilettos, right? I take off down the street toward Grand Central, enjoying the bustle of New Yorkers passing me – god, I really am drunk if I'm waxing on about how pleasant I find other New Yorkers – when suddenly, someone runs smack into the back of me.
"What the fuck?" I slur-yell, my Louis Vuitton purse swinging and then it's gone from my arm! Some punk ass kid with a black hoodie pulled up over his head is taking off down the street with my precious Louis Vuitton!
I take off running after him.
"Stop! You goddamn thief, come back here!"
I should probably save my breath so I can run faster, but shit, I can't keep quiet. That man just stole my fucking purse!
As I run, my drunk legs wobbling underneath me with every step, I suddenly hear weird noises. Like, it's New York City, right? I'm used to noises. But this ... this isn't something I've ever heard before.
My head whips around just in time to see...
A cowboy on a horse come tearing past me, a lasso spinning above his head.
How drunk am I?
87
Chase
"God, are they ever going to show up?" Jason asks, hooking a boot as he leans up against the horse trailer. "Finding a parking spot here in New York is fucking insane, and I'm pretty sure the meter maid is going to notice us soon. We either need to keep going or someone needs to show up."
I nod my agreement, but didn't really have much else to say. Jason's always the one to chat a lot. Me? I just like to take it all in.
Speaking of taking it in ...
I admire the ass on a girl as she goes walking by, blonde hair swinging with every step. Damn, she's fine. Are all New York girls that fucking hot? I'm never leaving New York if that's the case.
I just start to look back at Jason – never a good idea to openly leer at a girl – when something catches my eye. I look back just in time to see some guy in a black hoodie deliberately run into the back of Sexy New York Girl, jostling her purse loose, and then taking off with it.
She's running down the street, yelling her head off, and all I can think is, I can't just let that jackass steal from a lady!
So, I use the tools I have in my disposal. What else is a cowboy to do?
Meaning, I pull the ramp out with one quick move, bumping into the mass of humanity that is New York as I back up, pulling it out to set it on the ground.
"Sorry, sorry," I toss over my shoulder as people curse a blue streak. I feel bad, but I can't let that stop me. Sexy New York Girl needs me!
"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asks, bewildered, as I rip the door open to the back of the horse trailer, grab the halter of Moonshine, and back him down the ramp. I clip reins into place; if I'm going to ride bareback, I should at least have reins, and grab my coiled lasso from the hook on the inside of the horse trailer.
"I've got a girl to save," I say, maneuvering over to the side of the horse trailer so that I can use it as a step stool to get up onto him. Moonshine whinnied in alarm; he and I don't exactly ride bareback all that often, let alone in the streets of New York, but I gave him a quick pat on the neck. "Whoa, boy. It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
I swing my leg over, grab the reins, and take off down the street, letting the sheer size of Moonshine do the work of clearing a path for us. Do you know how loud hooves with horseshoes on them are on concrete?
Hint: Real loud.
I squeeze my knees against Moonshine's flanks, working to keep my balance, but Moonshine of course just takes that as encouragement to gallop faster.
I whip past the girl, tossing a "I'll be back!" over my shoulder as we go thundering down the sidewalk, and finally spot black hoodie jackass. I start spinning my lasso in the air, whirling it as I judge speed and distance and wind direction and then, I let it fly.
Jackass flies to a stop at the end of the rope, his arms pinned to his side, flailing at the restrictions. He loses his balance and topples over onto his side, looking for all the world like an upside-down turtle.
I jump off Moonshine and he jerks to a stop, this part of the ride working like it always does. Usually, we're roping cattle, but today, I guess we're just roping bad guys instead. I know that Moonshine won't move an inch while I work to tie up the bad guy. I can hear people around me, either calling it into 911 or taping me on their phones, and I just know that I'm gonna hit the evening news.
Well hell, maybe more people will show up for the Madison Square Garden rodeo then, right? A bigger crowd is never a bad thing.
I trot on over to Jackass and pull the purse out of his hands.
"Slow down there, Paco," I tell him, holding my hands up toward him, trying to calm him down. "It's gonna be fine. Why don't you just sit there for a minute while the men in blue work their way over to–"
"You motherfucking asshole!" Sexy New York Girl yells, bursting into our circle.
And that's when she lets loose with the mace spray.
To keep reading Carla Vs. Cowboy, click here!
Also by Alexis Angel
Wicked Lil’ Brat
Man Chaser
Red & Blue
Scandalous
Client 5
Jailbait
Python
Men of the House
My Naughty Angels
I want to take a moment to thank a group of very special ladies in my life. Without them I would be nowhere so when I say I feel blessed to have them part of my life, I mean that this book would probably not be possible without the love and support that they give me.
These ladies are my Naughty Angels. At the end of each night, I know I can fly back to the nest that we’ve created together. I’d like to take a moment to thank all of them individually.
Ida Jolley: I just wanna hug Ida and bury my face in her and then sit with her and veg out drinking scotch and watching Jersey Shore lol. She’s got such a good heart and she says whatever she thinks that I always wake up and wonder with curiosity what Ida’s been up to. Love you babe.
Joyce Walker: Joyce is the enforcer, lol. At first I was a bit scared of her because she has such a strong personality. But it comes from a place of love and nowadays I feel so safe and protected knowing that Joyce is behind me watching out for me. God bless this woman who makes me feel so comfortable and that I always know I can go run to if someone is mean to me.
Lisa Boltiador: Is like my owl. I have more inside jokes with Lisa than I ever thought I would have with anyone. Just for Lisa, I’m going to say the following words. Anus. Buttocks. Owl. Old. Speculator. I can go days without talking to her, but like any sister, I can pick up again. Lisa is my brain in terms of the advice and wisdom she imparts - but she will always have a piece of my heart.
Carla Roman: Carla is quiet, but when she speaks it is prescient, correct, and worth listening to. I know to myself that if Carla suggests I do something, that I should do it. I love Carla because she was there from the beginning, and I would give her anything she asked (or try), but she never presupposes to. Always caring. Always giving. Because Carla knows what she’s talking about, I always listen. If she didn’t she wouldn’t be saying it.
Christine Raine Jalili: Is like a mini-Facebook by herself. When I’m tired she’s there for me. When I have questions on what to do and it needs a quick answer, I ask her. If I ever need to round up people, the first person I think of going to is Christine. I have very rarely seen someone who is such a harder worker or dives in as much as she does.
Michele VonCannon: Need something to pick up your day? Need a consp
irator to do something fun with? Maybe something racy to get you all tingly? Want to be naughty? Want a partner in crime? Michele is the one that I turn to. I’m sometimes not sure if we can do something or not - Michele will do it. I love her for the amount of…stuff she’s shared and how she makes our chats lively. I wanna call her CQ; but I’m not gonna tell you why.
Kim Lubbers: Kim is a sweetheart. She’s quiet, but when she does say stuff it’s always helpful and sweet and funny and naughty and cute. I love Kim because she’s always solidly behind you. She doesn’t need a lot of words to express herself. You know just from her presence that she’s behind you. That she has your back. Its worth more than anything anyone will ever know and I’m grateful.
Brittney Ketchum: This is my naughty girl! The one I can come to and share all the dirty things I do, think about, want to do, or whatever. Brittney is right there. I joke with her that we’re holding hands on a fast train to…well, never mind ;) But I love joking and talking and laughing and playing with Brittney. She’s so open and I can be so openly sexual - not having to worry about anything what society says.
Cheryl Maddox: Knows me perhaps better than anyone else. Has brought me back from the brink in the past. I place my faith and my trust in this woman. She works entirely too hard as a PA dealing with 9 squacking girls in our group, but somehow she manages to keep us in line. Most people have a PA to post stuff or enter them in contests. Cheryl is too valuable for that. Her best contribution is her counsel. I will never do anything without asking her opinion. I think I used to be sad because I never had a sister in real life, but no longer since Cheryl found me so long ago.
