Ride: A Bad Boy Romance

by Roxie Noir

I lean our foreheads together, then move my hips against him, pushing the head of his cock into my entrance.

  “Seduce me later,” I whisper. “Right now I need you inside me.”

  Jackson thrusts and sinks himself inside me, pushing my back against the chair as we both moan.

  “Oh fuck, Lula-Mae,” Jackson says, his head against my shoulder. “This feels better than I remembered.”

  I wrap my arms tight around his shoulders as he moves inside me.

  “It’s because I finally talked you into barebacking,” I murmur into his ear.

  He goes slow at first, and I can feel him holding back, trying to be gentle. His cock hits every single sensitive spot inside me again and again, and I feel like my entire body is lit like a string of Christmas lights, burning hot and bright.

  I turn my head and nip at Jackson’s ear, and he growls, thrusting harder.

  “I missed this,” I whisper.

  Harder.

  I make a noise that’s half-moan, half-whimper, and Jackson puts his forehead against mine again, our faces together.

  “You missed my cock?” he says.

  He slams into me and white-hot pleasure bolts through me, from the crown of my head to my toes. I nearly shout.

  “I definitely missed your cock,” I gasp, and Jackson chuckles. He’s going impossibly deep with every thrust, and I know I’m close to the brink, ready to go over any second.

  “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” he murmurs.

  “Of me saying I like fucking you?” I ask.

  Now I’ve got both my hands on his face, a fireball gathering inside me that’s going to explode any moment.

  “Can I come inside you?” he asks.

  “Please,” I whisper. “Let me feel you come.”

  He thrusts one more time and there I am at the edge. I grip Jackson’s shoulders as tight as I can, our faces pressed together.

  “Oh god, Jackson,” I whisper, and then I come.

  I come so hard that everything goes white and silent for a moment, and then someone is shouting “Jackson!” and I’m nearly knocked breathless as my whole body contracts with wave after wave of pleasure. I think I’m saying, “Oh god, Jackson,” over and over, and then he’s squeezing my hips so hard it hurts.

  “I fucking love watching you come, Lula-Mae,” he growls, and then he’s deep inside me and I can feel his cock throb and then explode. I squeeze him as hard as I can between my legs and we rock together until he’s totally spent, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

  We’re both breathing hard, our faces still touching, and he kisses me again. This time it’s slow and sensual and we explore each other lazily until we finally pull away.

  We untangle ourselves from each other and just sit on the floor, leaning against the chair. Jackson puts his arm around me, and I relax into him. He kisses the top of my head.

  “You kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?” he asks.

  I laugh.

  “You’re one to talk, Jackson,” I say.

  “Have I been a bad influence?” he says. “You haven’t asked me to do it with you since that first time.”

  “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?” I tease.

  “I don’t intend to, no,” he says.

  I sigh dramatically, curled against him, warm and happy and tingly all over.

  And for once, not worried about getting caught.

  22

  Jackson

  After a couple minutes on the floor we get up, because the floor isn’t actually very comfortable. Mae yawns and stretches as she stands, then pads barefoot to the bathroom. I don’t even remember getting her boots off, but I guess we did.

  “It’s like a Turkish bath in there,” she says when she comes out.

  “What do you know about Turkish baths?” I ask.

  “I’m very sophisticated,” she says, and walks past me.

  The bathroom is nice, full of marble and mirrors though I’ve never been to a Turkish bath so I couldn’t say how much it’s like one. When I come out, Mae’s standing by the big window, looking out. I turn the lights in the room off so we can see better, walk over to her, and put my arms around her.

  “This is a good view,” she says.

  “You ever been to Vegas before?” I ask.

  “Nope,” she says.

  “I thought it was mandatory for every family in the west to drive through at least once,” I say. “We never stayed, but I went to a few of the cheap buffets on the outskirts when I was a kid.”

  “Where were you going?” she asks.

  “I don’t even remember,” I say. “Grand Canyon? California?”

  Her skin is soft and warm against me, and her hair tickles my chin just a little. She’s leaning back into me and I feel almost like we’re melting together, perfectly relaxed and comfortable.

  Right here, right now, nothing else matters.

  “I’ve never been to California,” she says. “Which is weird, right? It’s not that far.”

  “We could get in a car right now and go,” I say. “The state line is an hour away. Probably less. We’d make the ocean before sunrise.”

  Mae laughs softly and leans her head back against my chest.

  “Then what?” she asks.

  “That depends on who’s in charge,” I say. “If it were me, I’d get a cooler of beer and we’d stay there all day, just the two of us. If it was you, I think we’d stick a foot in the water and then drive like hell to get back here so you could finish your job.”

  “So you’d forfeit the last two days of the World Championships to hang out on the beach,” she says.

  She turns her head and looks up at me, her deep blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Liar,” Mae teases. “You didn’t come all this way not to ride Crash Junction again.”

  I laugh.

  “You got me,” I say. “We’re gonna have to put off our fantasy beach vacation until after I win.”

  I let myself think for a moment that we’ll go. I know we can’t, because Mae’s job isn’t over until the photos are with her editors, and if I’m lucky, I’ll have days of press conferences and meetings and awards ceremonies.

  Still. The two of us, waves lapping at our feet, clinking beers together on the sand. It’s a good thought. We stare out the window together, my arms around her.

  “We could go to Paris and Venice without leaving the Strip,” I say.

  “I always thought the clanging of slot machines was so romantic,” she murmurs.

  “Well, if you aren’t gonna let me whisk you off to the ocean, it’s the next best thing,” I tease.

  “There’s nothing between casinos and running away together at midnight?” she asks, laughing.

  “The Venetian has canals,” I say. “Though you can’t go in them. Trust me on that.”

  She raises her eyebrows and looks up at me expectantly.

  “I was drunk,” I say.

  “Sounds unusual,” she teases.

  “I was drunk and Clay dared me to jump in and swim to the other side,” I say. “But those things are about two feet deep, so instead I just pulled him in and he pulled in Raylan and before I knew it, the canal had twenty people in it and we were all getting escorted out.”

  “Most of the twenty people being girls,” Mae says.

  “Right,” I say. “I’m barred from the Venetian for life, but it’s not like they’ve got my face posted at the doors.”

  “Maybe instead of going to California tonight I should just get the full Jackson Cody Debauchery Tour of Vegas,” she teases. “You know how to party, after all.”

  She sounds perfectly lighthearted, but something small and heavy starts gathering in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t exactly been an angel, after all. I haven’t even been one halfway.

  “That’s a long tour,” I say.

  “What, you don’t want me to see it?”

  “I think you probably need to tie
one on if you’re gonna dance on a table,” I say. “Otherwise, it ain’t really the debauchery tour.”

  “So I can’t just watch some other girl dance on a table while I sip club soda?” she asks.

  “I’d much rather watch you dance on a table,” I say.

  “The tour’s for me, not you,” she teases. “I’m the one getting drunk, dancing with girls, and jumping into fountains. You’re just my guide.”

  I swallow. My stomach squirms, thinking about all the other women, because there have been a lot. I think Mae knows, but I’m beginning to realize I’m not sure she really does.

  If she did, would she have ever slept with me in the first place?

  She deserves somebody better, I think. Somebody who at least knows the names of all the girls he’s slept with.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  I blink.

  “You’re the only one,” I blurt out.

  She half-laughs.

  “I kind of assumed that when you gave me your room key,” she says, but her voice has gone a little stiff. “It would be pretty awkward if I walked in on you and someone else.”

  “I mean since we met,” I say, and I swallow hard. “The second time, not the first.”

  She wraps her arms around herself, and I can see goosebumps rising on her arms.

  “Can we get in the bed? I’m freezing,” Mae says.

  I grin at her.

  “You don’t have to ask to get into my bed,” I say.

  She walks past me and I swat her lightly on the ass. A moment later we’re under the covers, my arms around her.

  “It’s not like I swore off men after that,” she says. “Just alcohol and breaking the rules. And, to be honest, I’m glad my first time wasn’t in the back of a pickup truck, in the middle of a party, while I was hammered.”

  “I really did jerk off to that for years, though,” I say.

  Mae laughs.

  “In a romantic kinda way,” I say.

  “So you jerked off into a bouquet of roses?” she asks.

  I snort.

  “Who’s disgusting now?” I ask. “For a nice girl, you’re real filthy.”

  “You’d know,” she says, snaking one hand over my side and pulling me a little closer.

  My dick stiffens, just a little. I take a deep breath, trying to control it, because I still haven’t said what I’m trying to say and I want to do it before Li’l Jackson takes over.

  “Wait,” I say, and she pauses, her blue eyes flicking to my face.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  “There have been a whole lot of women,” I say. “I lost count after a while.”

  She puts one hand on my chest and bites her lip for a moment, looking down. Then her eyes meet mine again.

  “Jackson,” she says softly. “I know how to use the internet.”

  “Okay,” I say, not really sure where this is going.

  “So I looked you up,” she says. “You know you’ve got a four-point-seven rating on Rate a Rodeo Stud dot com with seventy one votes cast, right?”

  I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, and I just stare at her for a long moment.

  “What is that, and a four-point-seven outta how many?” I finally hear myself ask.

  “Are you serious?” she asks.

  I just nod.

  “It’s a website where women — buckle bunnies, I guess — rate the sexual performance of the cowboys they’ve slept with,” Mae says. “Last time I checked, you’d been rated seventy-one times, so I assume you’ve slept with way, way more girls than that.”

  She watches my face, and I think she’s having a hard time not laughing.

  “Some of them got pretty detailed,” she says. “The rating’s out of five, so four-point-seven isn’t bad.”

  “You knew this whole time,” I say.

  “I googled you when I got the assignment for Pioneer Days,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

  “And that came up?” I ask.

  “Do you not google yourself?” she asks. “I know Wyoming’s got the internet.”

  I have no idea what to do or what to say. I can’t believe that this whole time, Mae’s not just known numbers, but details.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t know about it,” she says. “Though it explains why you didn’t brag about your four-point-seven.”

  She swallows.

  “I only read a few of the reviews, to be honest,” she said. “It felt kind of weird to read that about someone I was gonna have to work with.”

  “Were they detailed?”

  Mae rolls onto her back, and now my head’s on her shoulder, my arm slung across her as I stroke her hip.

  She’s still here, I remind myself. She knew all this and she’s still here.

  “One was pretty detailed, but the writer didn’t use any punctuation or capital letters so it was basically impossible to read,” she says. “One just said ‘Cute guy, good sex, five stars,’ and one thought you did sloppy work because you were drunk.”

  “Shit,” I say, her skin smooth under my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” she says slowly. “I’m not thrilled, but I’ll live.”

  I’ve gotta get myself off that stupid site, I think.

  “It’s just you now,” I say. “I promise.”

  There are a million things on the tip of my tongue, like because you’re the only one I want or it’s only you forever or just I love you, but I don’t say any of them.

  “You too,” she says, wrapping an arm around my back. “Promise.”

  I lie there for another moment, just thinking all this over. There’s one very, very important question I still haven’t asked.

  “How does a four-point-seven stack up overall?” I ask. “Is that good, or bad, or about average?”

  “It’s pretty high,” Mae says. “You got good ratings on dick, charm, and technique, but your follow-up score was low.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “That’s pretty accurate,” I say.

  “Of course you think that,” Mae teases.

  “Okay, Miss Guthrie,” I say. “Let’s hear your review.”

  Mae laughs and blushes.

  “I should give you a terrible review so no one else wants to sleep with you,” she says. “‘Fell asleep before I achieved orgasm. Smelled bad. Snored. Zero stars.’ Think that would work?”

  “So you’d tank my rating out of jealousy,” I say.

  “Hell yes,” Mae says.

  Then she looks past me and thinks for a minute, narrowing her eyes. “Or I’d give you a really good rating, since I’m not sure I want my boyfriend to be famously bad at sex.”

  She’s never called me her boyfriend before. It sounds good.

  “Well, I’m not sure a single rating would have much effect on your boyfriend’s score one way or the other,” I say.

  I scoot closer to her, my face in the crook of her neck, so I nip at the soft skin there. I’m getting hard again, fast, and I know she can tell.

  “Okay,” she finally says. “How about, ‘Charming, enthusiastic, and very good at sex. Sometimes talks too much during the act.’”

  “I do not,” I say, and gently bite the shell of her ear.

  Mae gasps.

  “‘His cock might have an inexhaustible power source, but it’s pretty nice, so I don’t mind,’” she continues her review. “‘Drives me wild enough to do things like talk dirty by pretending to review his sexual performance.’”

  Now I’m halfway under her, my chest against her back. She takes my cock in one hand and squeezes it. I groan into her ear, the pressure of her hand sending pleasure flooding through my body.

  “Is that the whole review?” I ask.

  I slide my hand up to her breasts and squeeze one, pinching her nipple between my fingers.

  Mae moans and arches her back.

  “I need a good ending,” she says, her
voice getting ragged. “Something punchy, you know?”

  “Well, you already used ‘very good at sex,’” I tease.

  She strokes my cock again, her chest rising and falling under my hand.

  “You just want me to talk dirty to you,” she says. Her voice is getting breathy like it does when she’s starting to lose control.

  “Guilty as charged,” I say.

  “How’s this, then,” Mae says, and swallows. “‘Jackson Cody turns me on so much it should be illegal. I spent weeks watching him jerk off on camera, and I thought it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen, but sometimes he talks too much when I just want him inside me already.’”

  “Impatient,” I say into her ear.

  “Four-point-six stars,” Mae finishes.

  “Point six?” I say.

  “I’m willing to revise for a good performance,” she says.

  Now we’re both on our sides, and she arches her back so the tip of my cock is resting against her entrance. My dick throbs, somehow going even harder, and I try to savor this tiny moment just before all my senses get obliterated by the sheer overwhelming pleasure of Mae.

  Then I give up and sink myself inside her tight channel and both of us groan together. She’s beyond wet and so turned on that she feels swollen, her pussy clenched around me like a fist as I’m all the way inside her.

  Mae pushes back and moans, and I grab her hip and move myself inside her.

  “God that feels good,” she whispers.

  “I’m always afraid I’m gonna come the second I’m inside you,” I whisper into her ear. “I swear to god you fit me perfect, Lula-Mae.”

  I pull back and then slide inside her again, listening to her moan. It might be the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard, at least aside from all the other noises she makes.

  I want to go slow this time. I want to savor this, because it feels so good that I don’t want it to be over right away.

  We move together in a rhythm that’s almost lazy, her body against mine. I feel almost lost as her muscles start to tighten around my cock. Mae starts pushing back into me, trying to move faster and faster.

  I put my hand on her hip and squeeze, holding her still. She turns her head and looks back at me, panting for breath, so I thrust inside her slow but hard and watch her eyes slide shut, her hips moving back as if she can take more of me in.