Trouble With a Cowboy

by Sullivan, Sandy

  "You're tense. Either you're thinking or I'm stepping on your toes," he replied with a smile.

  She slipped her tongue over her lips to wet the dry surface while she gathered her courage to renegotiate their deal. "All right. I was rethinking—"

  "Well, well. If it isn't the bitchy trucker and her knight in shining armor," Kyle spat, stopping next to them on the dance floor as the song came to an end.

  The band announced they were taking a break as the dancers began to shuffle off to their tables, leaving her, Tucker and Kyle standing in the middle of the floor.

  She turned to face the annoying pain in the ass, gritting her teeth. "What the hell do you want?"

  "Me? Nothin', honey. You didn't come back to the shop to get your tires. I thought maybe your bed partner changed his mind about paying for 'em."

  "If you hadn't cut mine, I wouldn't have this problem in the first place, asswipe. And you're just pissed because Tucker is helping me, putting a real damper on the proposition you had planned, I’m sure. "

  "It doesn't matter, babe, 'cause I ain't gettin' them tires for you no matter how much money lover boy throws around."

  "Why you—" One step, just one and she would be close enough to drop the dickhead to his knees, but Tucker's hand stalled her motion by bracketing her wrist with his hand.

  "You ride bulls, Kyle?" Tucker asked making his voice loud enough everyone could hear.

  Wondering what he had in mind, Jacie corralled the need to stick her knee between Kyle's legs while she waited to hear what Tucker had to say.

  Kyle glanced around nervously and narrowed his eyes into slits when his gaze returned to Tucker. "Yeah."

  "I'll make you a deal."

  "What deal?"

  "My bull sits in the pen out behind the motel. We'll both ride him tomorrow morning. If you stay on longer, I'll pay you ten-thousand dollars for four tires."

  The crowd around them on the dance floor went silent. Several people gasped.

  "Ten-thousand?" Kyle squeaked, rubbing his chin.

  "Yes."

  "Tucker, don't. It's not worth it," she murmured, facing him. "We can figure out something else."

  "Ssh. Let me handle this," Tucker said as he squeezed her fingers.

  "And if you stay on longer?" Kyle asked.

  "You'll order the tires and install them…free."

  Chapter Three

  Tucker brushed his boots clean and adjusted his belt buckle as a saucy tune passed from his lips. The plan for this morning included either putting Kyle in his place and getting the tires needed for Jacie's truck or paying him and getting the tires. Either way, Kyle would be over a barrel and they would have what they needed before too long.

  The night before had ended in frustration, leaving him with another set of blue balls. He almost hoped Jacie’s sleep had been just as restless.

  He thought he’d had her wound up enough that she’d forget about the business partner only thing for the trip to Vegas, but apparently not. "Man, what I wouldn't give to get between those thighs."

  After the Kyle incident, they danced close enough it would have been difficult to get a piece of paper between them and he had made sure she could feel every inch of his cock against her belly. He'd teased her unmercifully the whole night, but in the end, she had gone into her room, firmly closing the door between them, leaving him standing in the parking lot of the motel with a raging hard-on.

  "I'll wear her down, I'm sure. We would both be a lot happier on this trip if we shared my bed instead of sleeping apart." A quick check of his reflection in the mirror near the door, told him things were in their proper place. His two fingers rode the brim of his hat while he tucked it down low over his brow.

  Time to get this over with. They needed those damned tires ordered one way or another and were running out of time. The PBR World Finals started in less than a week. If he lost the chance for his bull to get the reining title of Bull of the Year, there would be hell to pay.

  The sun had already started to climb into the mid-morning sky as he arrived at the motel several minutes later. A slow, soft whistle left his lips as his gaze stopped on the crowd forming near the small arena. More people than he thought this town held stood waiting around the pen where the bull snorted and pawed at the dirt.

  "Hey, Tucker," Jacie said, coming up to stand beside him.

  "Mornin'. How did you sleep?"

  Her shoulder lifted in a nonchalant shrug, but he saw the tightness around her lips and dark circles under her eyes.

  Good. She must have slept badly too.

  "Okay, I guess. I'm worried about this crazy challenge of yours, though."

  "What's wrong? Don't think I can win?"

  "Hell if I know. Do you even ride bulls?"

  He leaned close to her ear. "Every chance I get. I usually compete on the bulls I send to the Professional Bull Riders Association rodeos. I'm not top-ranked or anything, but I do all right."

  If he wasn't mistaken, and he usually wasn't when it came to vibes from a beautiful woman, she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, but she wasn't about to let him know it—if she could help it. Her breathing came out in small little puffs of air as her heartbeat fluttered at the little spot at the base of her neck, giving away her reaction to him even if she denied it.

  Two cowboys he remembered from the bar the night before, stepped forward to offer to help get things ready. He’d have them watch the ride in order to make sure neither he or the bull got hurt.

  "Sure. Thanks. I appreciate the help," Tucker said, pulling the bull rope from his shoulder.

  Apparently, this little arena must have been where Littleton held their own rodeos during the summer since there appeared to be a bull chute sitting in one corner.

  "Kyle show up yet?" he asked one of the cowboys standing next to him.

  "Nope. Ain't seen him."

  "Wonder if he'll even have the guts to be here," the second cowboy said, holding out his hand. "Name's Jake."

  "Tucker Marshall," Tucker answered, grasping the cowboy’s in a firm handshake.

  "The Tucker Marshall? Are you serious? Tucker Marshall out of South Austin?" Jake asked as he pumped Tucker's hand vigorously.

  "Yeah," he replied, shooting a glance at Jacie. His last name hadn't come up in conversation and he wondered what her reaction would be. He didn't have long to wait as she frowned, spun on her heel, and disappeared into the crowd.

  "Well, hot damn! Nice to meet ya. You got some real hot bulls in this year's PBR."

  He nodded toward the one in the pen. "This one is up for Bull of the Year, but I need to get him to Vegas."

  "So you hooked up with the hot big rig driver, eh?"

  Tucker shrugged one shoulder. "She needs tires. I need a driver. Works for us."

  "It doesn't hurt she's one gorgeous woman either. I imagine a firecracker in bed."

  "I wouldn't know."

  "You ain't been between them thighs yet?"

  "What has gone on between me and Jacie is none of your business, cowboy. If you'll excuse me, I need to get the bull ready," Tucker said, changing the subject.

  "Oh, yeah, right."

  It's not my fault she never asked. Besides, it shouldn't make any difference who I am, unless she's the gold digger type too.

  Once the bull had been readied, he watched it bang against the metal of the pen while they waited for Kyle to show. American Bucking Bulls had become the premiere bulls for the Professional Bull Riders Association and Tucker had several in the circuit, but Lightning Strike had the best chance for a good career right now. His stud fees would go through the roof if he won.

  Tucker knew he’d told Kyle ten o’clock, but it was already ten-thirty. Still no sign of his opponent. Jacie had failed to return too. He fisted his hands on his hips and kicked up some dust with the toe of his boot, muttering to himself. "Why the hell did she look so pissed off?"

  His answer came from behind him. "She looked pissed off because you didn't tell her who you were."<
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  The expression on her face made him pause. Her narrowed eyes and the lips thinned into a firm line were sure-fire signs she wasn’t at all happy with him. "You didn't ask." He reached for her hand, but she took several steps back, folding her arms across her chest. The movement forced her breasts tight against the front of her baggy shirt. No mistaking her for anything but a woman with those curves. "Listen, darlin'—"

  "Don't you darlin' me, Tucker Marshall. You could have hired any damned driver this side of the Continental Divide. Why me?"

  He yanked off his hat to rake his fingers through his hair. "Because I felt like helping you. Helping you helped my situation too. I needed a rig to pull the trailer. You needed money for tires. I told you earlier I couldn't find a driver who could be here in less than three days. Correct me if I'm wrong here."

  "I don't need your charity," she spat.

  "It's not charity, Jacie, it's a business deal. I realize I never mentioned my last name before, but does it really make that much of a difference?"

  The toe of her boot tapped an irritated rhythm and she didn't look like she would give him an inch. "I guess it doesn't, but you should have told me. I don't like being left in the dark."

  "If you would have asked, I'd have told you. It's not like I tried to keep it a secret."

  The next thing he knew, people started to part in a wave. He looked over her shoulder to see Kyle walking in their direction.

  It's about damned time.

  "Kyle," Tucker said.

  "Finally,” she said, clearly exasperated. "Can we get this crap over with, get the tires, and get the hell out of here?"

  "I'm working on it, darlin'," he said, purposely using the little endearment.

  Pink rushed into her cheeks. He could tell she clenched her jaw by the tick appearing and disappearing in her cheek. "We can work on your frustration in a little while," he murmured, with a quick brush of his lips against her ear. "Did you bring your bull rope, Kyle?" His gaze swept over his competitor, knowing Kyle probably didn't even own one.

  "Uh…no. I'll use yours."

  He stopped in front of Kyle. "Truth here, buddy, you ever been on a bull?"

  "Yes," Kyle spat.

  Tucker shook his head and watched Kyle head toward the bull chute as he followed. The guy would be lucky if he didn't get hurt or killed.

  Lightning Strike rolled his eyes and butted his horns against the metal railing. Huge, solid white and mean as a rattler, the animal struck fear in every rider on the circuit. The average buck off time for him was four point six two seconds, and he carried a hundred percent buck off rate this year. Every rider knew you didn't mess with Lightning Strike. With a horn span topping ninety inches, cowboys watched those pointed death spears like a hawk on the trail of a rat. One wrong move and the unlucky man would be shish kabob.

  Tucker ran his gaze over the bull to double-check placement on the gear and to make sure his animal wouldn't be hurt by the coming events. Everything seemed to be in order, he decided with a nod.

  A glance at Kyle revealed him standing back from the fence, running his tongue over his lips. His face looked pasty white with a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

  The man was scared to death. Rightly so. Even Tucker didn't like the thought of getting on this particular bull, but he didn't have a choice. Forcing Kyle into this agreement seemed the only way to get what they needed.

  "You ready?"

  "Yeah, damn it! Let's get this over with." Kyle's voice almost sounded like a whine. "You goin' first or am I?"

  "I will if you'd like," Tucker answered.

  "Go ahead."

  The clang of his boots hitting the bottom rung of the gate sounded loud to his own ears. Only hushed whispers could be heard around him as he focused all his energy on the bull and making it out of this ride alive. A quick glance to his left and his gaze caught Jacie's. Fear made her hazel eyes shine. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. She looked terrified, but gave him a small smile when he blew her a kiss.

  His helpers secured the bull rope on the animal while he pulled on his riding glove and got into position. He eased himself down, bracing for the initial jump he knew his bull always made. The muscles of his thighs screamed in protest. It had been a few months since he'd ridden and his body made sure he knew it. A little over two months ago, one of the heifers had kicked him, breaking the bone in his left lower leg. The cast had come off only three weeks ago, so he sent up a silent prayer for a safe ride.

  With a quick nod, he gave them the signal to open the gate.

  The bull charged out, immediately spinning to the right. Tucker hung on, his left arm whipping back and forth as Lightning Strike kicked out his hind legs, jumped forward, and then circled to the left. When Tucker felt himself sliding, he had no way to continue to hold on. The bull rope released with a tug of his hand right before he jumped free with a tuck and roll in the dirt. It wasn't like they were riding for money. He only had to stay on longer than Kyle. His ride hadn't been eight seconds nor was it a ninety pointer, but he thought it would beat his opponent.

  Several men from the audience worked the bull toward the shoot. The normal procedure for the rodeo circuit would be to retire the animal for the day. They didn't have that luxury in this case. Kyle still had to ride.

  Tucker climbed up on the rail and dropped over to the other side.

  "I don't see how men can bull ride for a living. It's crazy," Jacie said, her eyes trailing over him as she stopped in front of him, hands on her hips, her feet spread apart.

  "Nothin' to it."

  "Whatever, Tucker. You could have been seriously hurt. What if he would have stepped on you? What if he turned and hooked your vest with a horn? I've seen way too many men not walk away from a ride even under the tightly controlled conditions of the PBR."

  "Worried?"

  "Yeah. Who the hell would pay for my tires if you got killed?"

  Great. Tires. It's all about the damned tires.

  "Thanks, Jacie. I should have made sure to write you a check ahead of time so you could still have bought the damned tires!" Frustration and anger burned in his gut. Women were all the same. It was all about the money. "Where's Kyle?" he snapped.

  "I don't know. He was right there by the fence until you finished your ride, but he's not there now.”

  "Anyone seen Kyle?" he asked the spectators milling about.

  An older woman carrying a little boy on her hip said, "I saw him hightail it out of here right after you jumped off. Always known the guy was yellow-bellied. He talks a good talk, but he can’t walk the walk."

  Not surprised by the turn of events, but willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt, he asked, "He left?"

  "Yep. Got in his truck and took off out here like his tail feathers had caught fire," the woman answered with a chuckle.

  The men hanging around Tucker laughed and congratulated him on his ride with several slaps on his back.

  Jake appeared at his side and Jacie stepped away, taking her scent with her.

  "I'm surprised he showed up at all. The dickhead has never been on a bull that I know of. Why he took your challenge, I don't know."

  "He figured I hadn't either or I’d back down, I imagine."

  "Well, he must not know who you really are then," Jake replied. "When you told me your name, I knew what he was up against. I've seen you ride before.”

  Tucker glanced to his left and right, but Jacie had disappeared again. Damn it! Why does she keep taking off? "Can you make sure the bull gets some hay? I need to track down my driver since it seems she's vanished."

  "If you mean the pretty young woman, I saw her headed toward the motel," another elderly woman said.

  Tucker took off toward her room at a fast clip. By the time he reached her door, he’d built up quite a head of steam.

  He rapped on the door right before she jerked it open with a sharp, "What?"

  "What the hell is wrong with you? You disappeared again without a word."

&n
bsp; "Maybe I didn't want to watch you gloat over your win," she snapped, letting go of the door. It started to swing close in his face, but he managed to get inside first.

  "I thought you'd be happy. We can get the tires and get out of here." Damn, the woman is frustrating even if she's sexy as hell. She’d changed into that hot little black tank top. The dirty ball cap lay on the bed along with several other pieces of clothing including the tight jeans and white tank top she'd worn the day they met. His gaze caught sight of a black lacy thong laying amongst her other clothing. His mind spun off in one wild, hot and raunchy scene. He stepped across the small room in three strides. Enough is enough. He wanted her and he knew she wanted him too. Room temperature hit the one hundred mark any time they were in close proximity. Now with a bed in the room, he couldn't think straight, much less breathe right.

  With both hands on her shoulders, he spun her around and dove for her mouth.

  * * * *

  Before she could blink, his lips connected with hers. God, he tastes and smells so good. The same feelings of desire and need to get closer that she'd felt the first time he’d kissed her, washed over her. Never in her life had a man overwhelmed her senses like Tucker.

  As his tongue swept along her bottom lip, her desire hitched up a notch. She parted her lips and his tongue slid inside as a groan rumbled in his throat. Their tongues met, tangled and swept along each other, tasting, testing, exploring.

  She wrapped her hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, knocking his hat to the floor, forgotten in the heat of their passion.

  His hands tipped her head to the side to fit their mouths together better. The hardness of his erection pressed into her abdomen. Her clit throbbed to the rhythm of her racing heart. Blood rushed in her ears and saliva pooled in her mouth. His lips left hers to trace a path across her cheek to her ear. Hot breath singed her skin. The stroke of his tongue to the sensitive spot below her earlobe had her shivering. Soft moans and intimate whimpers of want and need left her lips. His palm slipped down her side to cup her breast. Her nipples tightened into achy nubs, begging for his touch.