Burning Desire

by Ami Snow

  “What happened here?”

  “A really bad day,” Clay replied, shaking his head. He traced his fingertips over a small, moon shaped scar on Daisy’s forehead. “What happened here?”

  Daisy laughed. “I rode my bicycle into a clothesline when I was six.”

  “Ouch!” Clay said. “That must have hurt.”

  “There’s a reason I don’t exercise,” Daisy said. “Something bad always happens when I do.”

  “I don’t know,” Clay said. He started moving a little faster, smiling when he saw a flush of arousal creeping up in Daisy’s cheeks. “You’re getting a hell of a workout tonight.”

  “So are you,” Daisy said. “Doesn’t that rodeo thing only last eight seconds?”

  “If you’re lucky,” Clay said. “Sometimes it goes a whole lot faster than that.”

  Daisy ran her hands over Clay’s chest, taking note of how his reactions changed when she brushed over his pink nipples with her fingertips. He liked it when she grabbed hold of his ass, and when she gave him a tentative smack and said “Let’s pick up the pace, cowboy”, she felt his cock flex deep inside her.

  “Oh,” she said, looking into his blue eyes. “You like that?”

  He blushed. “Maybe.”

  Daisy spanked Clay again, a little harder this time. “Maybe?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Clay’s face was scarlet, and his cock felt even bigger inside of Daisy. “I do like that.”

  She swatted his other cheek. “Show me how much you like it.”

  Clay responded by plunging faster and deeper into Daisy’s dripping pussy. “I’m not going to be able to hold back if you keep doing that…” he warned.

  “I don’t care,” Daisy said. Her next smack on Clay’s firm butt was the hardest yet; it landed with a crack that echoed off the inn’s walls. “I want you to come for me.” She spanked his other cheek, just as hard. “Right now!”

  With a mingled Midwestern mix of curses and prayers, Clay did. After, he collapsed on top of Daisy. This time, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. He nestled his head against her chest and let his eyes closed. Daisy lay there for a moment, listening to his breath deepen and then change into a steady stream of soft snores.

  “I bet you don’t get to do that very often,” she murmured, and kissed the top of Clay’s head. “Big tough cowboy’s always got to be on top. And that means no spankings for you.” She squeezed him again, and then snuggled back against the pillow.

  Two seconds after she closed her eyes, Daisy was asleep.

  Daisy woke up to her phone ringing. She was alone in the bed, alone in the hotel room; Clay must have shown himself out. It was early still. Through the hotel window she could see the sun just starting to push its way up over the horizon.

  “Yeah?” she said, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes. Her head was pounding. Clearly Daisy had way more to drink than she’d realized. Going back to bed seemed like a very good idea.

  “Are you all right?” It was Maggie. “Do you need me to come get you?”

  “I’m fine,” Daisy said. “I’m right here in my hotel room, where I’m supposed to be.” Her tone sharpened. “Where are you?”

  Maggie didn’t answer the question. “What happened with your big blond cowboy?”

  “Don’t worry about my cowboy, what about yours?” Daisy asked. “I thought he was going to strip you out of your clothes right on the dance floor.”

  Maggie laughed. “He definitely tried. Things got better after I got him to slow down a little bit.” She paused, leaving a pregnant silence hanging on the line between them. “But what about your guy?”

  There was an odd tone in Maggie’s voice that made Daisy pause. She suddenly felt protective of Clay, and didn’t want to say too much. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “A lady doesn’t go get drunk and go home with strange cowboys,” Maggie shot back. “Do you know who he is?”

  “Why don’t you tell me,” Daisy said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Maybe we didn’t do a whole lot of talking,” Daisy snapped. “I haven’t even had coffee, Maggie. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Clay Lee is one of the PBR’s top riders, Daisy,” Maggie said. “The guy’s worth like a million bucks.”

  “You’re shitting me,” Daisy said.

  “No, I’m not!” Maggie protested. “Apparently they’re having a big rodeo here. It’s why none of us could get a decent hotel room.”

  “That may be,” Daisy said, “but there’s no way my cowboy was that guy.” She wrote down his name on a hotel message pad, underlining it twice. “Clay Lee. Whatever.”

  “I’m pretty sure he was,” Maggie said.

  “Honey, you were really drunk.” Daisy rolled her eyes. “How good of a look did you get at the guy you slept with, never no mind mine?” She gave her friend a moment to sputter indignantly before continuing. “Anyway, I’m looking at this Clay Lee guy on the internet right now, and I’m telling you, it’s not him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Daisy was staring at a picture of what was without a doubt the man she’d spent last night with. “That’s not my cowboy.”

  “Oh, bummer,” Maggie said. “That would have been a hell of a story.”

  “Maggie.” Daisy let herself sound very irritated. “A famous guy like that could have any girl he wanted. All the Rodeo Queens. He’s not going to be hooking up with me at some sorry ass honky tonk.”

  “You never know,” Maggie said.

  “I know,” Daisy said, and then she hung up. When Maggie rang right back, Daisy ignored the phone. She was in no mood to continue the conversation.

  Her mind was racing. Clay had been nothing but honest with her, and she’d been totally honest with him: they’d gone to bed together without Daisy ever having an idea that Clay was a rich, famous athlete. Now that she knew he was a superstar, did that change anything?

  After some time, Daisy decided that it didn’t. A one-night stand – even one as amazing as the night she and Clay had shared – was never meant to be anything more. Daisy hadn’t been looking for anything but a good time when she’d started dancing with the tall, blond cowboy – and he’d certainly delivered everything she was looking for and more.

  The fact that she’d really, really like to see him again? Was irrelevant, Daisy decided. Clay hadn’t been looking for anything long-lasting, and neither had she. It wasn’t fair of her to change the deal after the fact – and if she tried, she suspected that Clay would just think it was because she’d discovered exactly how rodeo famous he really was.

  She resolved to put Clay right out of her mind. After one last round of goodbyes with everyone who’d traveled to Vegas for the wedding, Daisy caught a flight back to Boston. She plunged right back into her job, managing the customer service department for a health insurance company.

  Life returned to normal – with one major change: every now and then – not too often, of course, but on the occasional Friday night, when it was late and she was alone in her bed – Daisy would go online and visit all the professional rodeo websites she could find.

  Clay’s picture was on nearly every one. Daisy spent hours checking out her one-time lover. There were lots of shots of him in the ring, clinging to the back of what appeared to be the craziest bulls Daisy had ever seen. Video footage taught her that eight seconds was longer than she ever imagined possible; while other bull riders had a hard time staying on that long, Clay appeared to have mastered staying on there more often than most.

  She even learned exactly how Clay had gotten that large pink scar in his shoulder. Five years ago, Clay had been in the running for the PBR championship. There’d been a lot of buzz around how it was a sure thing he was going to win; judging from the photos taken at that time, Clay hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he had female fans. The stands were packed to overflowing with skinny women with big hair and bigger hats: more than half of them were holding up signs that
read I <3 You Clay! or Marry Me Clay!

  The night of the championship, Clay had made it through the short round with no difficulty. His second bull, however, was a nightmare. Called Bonewrecker, the giant bull was in running for Bucking Bull of the Year; over a dozen cowboys had attempted to ride him, but none had succeeded.

  The commentators called it the clash of the titans: rodeo’s hottest star facing off against the bull that couldn’t be ridden. The stock contractor was so confident that he said if Clay managed to last eight seconds, he’d throw another million dollars into the prize pot – he was that sure Bonewrecker couldn’t be ridden.

  Things started to go badly right from the first minutes Clay and Bonewrecker were in the chute. Most high caliber bulls would stand patiently in place while the rider got into position. Not so with Bonewrecker. He was shifting and jumping right from the start, doing his best to slam Clay’s legs up against the gate.

  Clay stayed light on Bonewrecker’s back, doing his best to get a good grip on the rope that would serve as his only connection point to the two-thousand pound animal. Daisy watched this part of the YouTube video over and over again, peering at how her lover had looped the rope around his leather-gloved hand. It all looked all right to her – but the minute the chute opened up, it was clear that there was something really wrong with Clay’s ride.

  Bonewrecker came out of the chute turning toward the left. He spun around rapidly, getting all four of his massive hooves off of the sandy ground. Then, abruptly, he stopped, and did something Daisy had seen no other bull do: he reared up onto his back legs, standing proudly upright for a moment while the commentators exclaimed in horror.

  Daisy could feel her heart stop in her chest, just watching the moment. Bulls weren’t meant to stand that way – they just weren’t built right. Before too long, Bonewrecker caught on to the fact that he shouldn’t be doing what he was doing, but instead of falling back forward onto his hooves, he went over backwards, pinning Clay underneath his bulk for a split second before rolling back onto his feet.

  It was at this point that Daisy learned that there was something very wrong with Clay’s rope. Instead of allowing his hand to come free easily, the rope had cinched tighter, keeping Clay anchored to the very angry bull. He had had the wind knocked out of him and was in obvious pain. When Bonewrecker started spinning around again, Clay went flying through the air like a rag doll – and when he landing, the bull chased him down, as if the whole incident was Clay’s fault.

  The rodeo clowns did their best to protect Clay. One even had his leg broken in the process, as Bonewrecker ran directly over him. The bull was angry and determined. He scooped Clay up on his horn and tossed him through the air; when the cowboy landed, Daisy could see the blood gushing from his chest.

  After that, Clay was out of action for over a year. When he returned, Daisy saw, he received a hero’s welcome from the loyal fans, but things just weren’t the same. While Clay was still a top notch bull rider, even her novice eyes could see that he wasn’t riding the bulls with quite the same fearlessness that he’d used to. Being gored put fear into Clay; according to the rodeo’s verbose commentators, it would take years and years for the cowboy to work that out of his system – if he ever could.

  After that, Daisy did enough digging to discover that Clay had a website and a Facebook page, but neither one was updated particularly often. She was kind of glad of that. The fact that there wasn’t much to look at kept her from checking it too often – and that made it easier for her to file her night with the cowboy in the back of her mind, something fun that happened and that was it.

  And for a month or so, this worked out pretty well. Then Daisy started noticing that she was more tired than usual. Normally, she was a get-up and go sort of girl; now, her bed seemed more appealing than ever. She had some kind of stomach bug that left her feeling nauseous all of the time – after a few days of vomiting, she was reduced to eating Saltine crackers for her lunch.

  Her boss, Mr. Withers, noticed this and stopped in front of her desk. “Daisy, you’re not pregnant, are you?” he said. Then he waved his hands at her face. “Wait. Stop! Don’t answer that. I’m not supposed to ask you things like that.” Mr. Withers was an older man, and easily flustered by the many new rules HR told him he needed to follow. “I mean, if you want to share the news with us that’s great, and congratulations. But if you’re not, that’s great to. Whatever makes you happy.” He seemed to realize he was babbling, and nodded toward the crackers. “It’s just that the only time I’ve seen my wife eat those was when we had a baby on the way.” He laughed and started walking away, grateful to extricate himself from the awkward situation. “With six kids, you start to recognize a pattern.”

  “Pregnant?” Daisy whispered to herself. She pulled out her phone and checked her period tracking app. It had been six weeks since she’d made an entry. She counted backwards on her fingers and realized that six weeks ago, she’d been in Vegas.

  Six weeks ago, she’d been having the time of her life in bed with Clay Lee.

  Six weeks ago, she hadn’t thought about birth control or safe sex or anything but how much she’d wanted the tall blond cowboy.

  “Jesus Christ,” she said, softly. “I am in so much trouble.”

  For half a moment, Daisy thought that perhaps Mr. Withers was just wrong. “This could be the stomach flu,” she told herself. “Lots of people get the flu.” But then she looked up pregnancy symptoms on WebMD. Setting aside the missed period, which was the top signal of a potential pregnancy, Daisy recognized her own sudden lack of energy, nausea, and swollen, tender breasts.

  “Oh man.” Daisy pushed her chair back from her desk, grabbed her purse, and walked right out of the office without telling anyone she was leaving. The Boston air was crisp and cool; feeling it against her face helped keep her from bursting into tears.

  Suddenly, she was ridiculously hungry. Daisy knew she had to buy a pregnancy test to find out what was really going on, but at the same time, she didn’t want the confirmation. So she took a detour that brought her by Quincy Market, where food vendors from all around the world sold their wares.

  She walked by their stalls in a daze, trying to decide what she wanted to eat. It was hard to make a choice with her mind whirling about the baby. Daisy knew there was a baby, even if she didn’t have absolute confirmation yet; between Mr. Withers and WebMD, she’d convinced herself.

  What did that mean for her future? Daisy had never really pictured herself with children; not because she didn’t like kids but because she had no one in her life to have children with. Her own Mom was a single mother. Having watched that struggle up close and personal, Daisy wasn’t in a big hurry to do the same thing.

  Quincy Market was full of kids. There must have been a school group there: everywhere Daisy looked, there were pairs of kindergarten aged children holding hands. Her gaze fell on a chunky little blond headed boy, and she smiled. That’s what Clay’s son would likely look like, she thought.

  “Oh, man,” she said out loud, and folded her hands over her stomach. There was a miraculously empty bench open, and Daisy sank onto it. She must have looked really pale, because a passer-by actually paused and said, “Miss, are you okay?”

  Daisy looked up at this total stranger – a short woman, in a blue coat, with long curly hair and concern in her eyes – and blurted out, “I’ve just found out I’m pregnant.”

  The lady beamed. “Congratulations! That is wonderful news.”

  Daisy shook her head. “I’m not sure I’m ready for a baby.”

  “No one is ever ready for a baby.” The lady looked over Daisy’s rounded form. “But you have at least some time to get used to the idea.” She patted Daisy on the arm. “You’re going to do fine. I know it’s overwhelming, but you can do this.”

  “But I’m all on my own,” Daisy said. She patted her stomach. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  The lady nodded. “Sometimes that happens. It can be hard.” She raise
d an eyebrow. “How does the baby’s father feel about things?”

  “He doesn’t even know,” Daisy said. “I mean, I just found out, and it’s not like we’re together or anything…”

  “Is he married?” the lady asked. Her expression, it seemed to Daisy, had hardened just a little.

  “No,” Daisy said, shaking her head. “I mean, I know this isn’t a great situation, but I’m not like that.”

  “Then you should tell him,” the lady said. “Let him make up his own mind how he feels about things. But he does have a right to know.” She smiled. “You never know. He could be looking for a miracle.” Her cell phone rang, and she looked at it. “I’m sorry, I’ve absolutely got to take this. But you’re going to be fine.” She patted Daisy’s arm one more time. “You really are.”

  She left, and Daisy was alone in the crowd. Her stomach growled, so she stood up to find some food. “What do I want to eat?” she asked. She spun on her heel, only to find herself face to face with a booth promising the very best in Texas barbecue.

  Daisy laughed out loud. “If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.” She walked over and ordered some brisket and cole slaw. The guy behind the counter heaped her plate full. “You look like a girl with a good healthy appetite,” he said.

  “And I’m eating for two,” Daisy said with a smile. She felt a warm glow of happiness fill her body when she said that, a tingling feeling that felt like an all-over hug.

  “Hey, congratulations!” the counter guy said. “Kids are wicked awesome. I’ve got two girls myself. Best thing in the world, having kids.”

  “Thank you,” Daisy said. The guy may have thought she was talking about the food, but she’d really valued his reassurance. She took her food back to a table, and after a few delicious bites, took out her phone and took a deep breath.

  Clay’s Facebook page hadn’t been updated since the last time she’d looked at it. No one had been posting or leaving comments on it.

  “This is probably a huge waste of time,” Daisy murmured. She swallowed hard and sent Clay a friend request. Then she set the phone down to pick up her sandwich. Before she could even take a bite, her phone buzzed.