Sweet Melody: Rock & Rodeo Romance Book 1

by Jaye Ripley

  To any other girl, his words would calm her, maybe even get her excited about the possibility of more. My heart instead of my pussy throbs too hard, and my body tenses against his.

  He doesn’t let go. “When I came into the club and heard you singing, I thought about how amazing you are. That you should be singing in front of crowds and admired for your raw talent. Well, that and your smoking hot curves.”

  Hunter bites my earlobe as he chuckles, and my own stupid giggle breaks the tension between us.

  He continues, still holding onto me. “But when I crouched down next to you and saw the beautiful woman that went with that incredible voice, I knew I wanted you all to myself. Not just to bang up against a wall, although that thought did fill my brain and travel down to other parts of me, but because I wanted to figure you out. Like I do with our songs. One note at a time. You’re a song in progress for me, and until I work you out, you’ll be in my system.”

  His words confirm that he feels something more than the sexual connection between us. That statement both excites and terrifies me. My body leans against his hold to break away.

  “Uh-uh, Mel. Don’t overthink this. Don’t overthink us. I’m not talking about forever, so relax for me.” Hunter’s fingers trace circles on my skin. “Know that whatever happens between us tonight, you already mean more to me than just a quick fuck and duck. And if that’s going to make you run, then I’ll let you go.”

  With those words, he squeezes and releases me. My feet stay glued in place while my brain revs into overdrive to figure out what to do next.

  Most of the time, men serve to get me off—no more, no less. And the few times I let one of them even part way in, it never ends well. But if I walk away from Hunter in this moment, I may hate myself for the rest of the month, the year, maybe even my life. Besides, he’s moving to Nashville soon anyway.

  I turn to face him. My fear dissipates into acceptance of deeper desires when his lips break into that boyish smile with that dimple I have to lick sometime soon.

  I tip my head to the side and give him one long look until my eyes meet his. “So if we’re not going to use each other just to come, then what are we going to do?”

  Hunter holds out his hand. “Oh, you’re going to come, Melody.” He escorts me to his truck and helps me into the passenger seat, buckling me in. With a confident grin, he finishes. “And if you’ll trust me enough to give in a little like you did before, I’ll guarantee multiple times.”

  He touches the bandana in my hair and looks to me for permission. Before my rational side can talk me out of it, I nod and untie the red fabric from around my hair. Soft curls drop down my shoulders in waves as my hairstyle comes undone.

  Hunter fingers my hair and takes the bandana from me. “Lean forward a bit,” he directs.

  The soft fabric covers my eyes. He ties it behind my head, and checks twice to make sure of its tightness. “I don’t want you guessing what’s coming up next,” he says in one ear. His finger traces a path from my cheek, down my neck and to my cleavage, causing chills to break over my skin. In my other ear, he exhales warm air and whispers, “I just want you to experience.”

  His tongue licks my earlobe and sucks it in. The inability to see him heightens his tactile explorations. His lips and teeth nip and nibble their way down my neck. Unable to hold back, I moan.

  The door closes, making me jump. I hear his chuckle as he walks around to his side. The cab moves a bit as he climbs in. A slight breeze tickles my nose when the A/C turns on with the truck.

  “You sure you can’t see?”

  “Nope. I’m at your mercy.”

  “And I promise you won’t regret it.” Hunter revs the engine, backs out, and drives out of the parking lot to a destination unknown to me.

  My heart bursts in my chest as the blind darkness wraps around me. I resist the urge to use my hands to take over and explore him, playing his game.

  My soaked panties and I sit back and let Hunter take the lead.

  11

  Mel

  No sight means no damn clue where we’re headed. After trying to determine in which direction he’s driving, I give up after about the sixth turn. For all I know, we could be going in circles. My newfound Spidey senses do pick out more details. After several minutes, the road beneath us rumbles, and the truck maneuvers over a bumpy dirt road. The truck shakes and rocks. We must be way out of the fucking way. Perfect place to take a potential date. Or a potential victim.

  “I’m not taking you somewhere to kill you and get rid of your body, in case you were worried,” says Hunter, surprising the shit out of me. “I promised to take care of you, and I keep my word.”

  Before I can reply with a joke, he turns on some music. Bethany sometimes blasts it on her phone, but I don’t know the words. Hunter hums along, as the path gets rougher. Our speed drops.

  “You sure we’re in an area we’re supposed to be in?”

  “Positive.” Hunter returns to humming.

  When the end of the first verse hits, he sings under his breath. Even at half volume, his sexy voice affects me. If he continues to sing, he can do whatever he wants to me.

  By the second round of the chorus, I’ve picked up the words. As Hunter sings the lead, I add a simple harmony to it. He sings a little louder, and by the end of the song, we harmonize together almost as good as we did on stage. A little pang of regret hits when the song ends, but the truck slows down. Curiosity and anticipation build.

  Hunter executes a three-point turn and backs up until he kills the engine. The quiet peace accentuates my senses.

  “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” Hunter jokes.

  The bounce of the truck and additional strange noises give me very little clues to go by. The sound of rusty metal opening and the crunch of it closing pique my interest. The truck dips as he jumps down. Time ticks by with nothing but my breath for me to hear. My head tilts back and forth, trying to identify anything. Even a quick attempt to sneak a peek under the blindfold reveals nothing but darkness from the tight fabric around my head.

  One click of the handle, and my door opens. My heart pounds hard enough to push the excitement through me.

  “Hey, beautiful.” Hunter’s finger traces my jawline, the gentle gesture warming me to whatever he has in store. He unbuckles me and holds my hand.

  “Hey, yourself.” My hand takes his to let him guide me out of the seat. I hope he can’t feel the slight shake as he rubs his thumb over mine.

  We don’t move more than a few steps away after he shuts the door of the truck. His hands glide up my arms, his touch gentle and reassuring.

  “Now, I know how tempting it is, but do your best not to make any guesses where we are yet.”

  With guidance from him, we take slow, deliberate steps. The damn cowboy boots on my feet sink with every pace, and salt air fills my nose. The sound of waves crashing gives me enough information to make a very educated guess, but I keep my mouth shut to play along with Hunter’s game.

  My foot turns a little in the soft sand.

  “I’ve got you. I won’t let you fall.” His warm hands shift to help. “Here.” He pulls me back until I fall against his strong chest. He shifts his body so that it wraps around me a bit, and I fit into the nook he creates for me. His breath tickles my neck as he leans into me. His chest moves up and down with each breath, pushing me back and forth as if lulling me with its gentle rocking into a deep level of trust.

  “So, any guesses where we are?”

  “The mountains?”

  His fingers pinch my arm. “Try again.”

  “Las Vegas? Ooh, are we gonna get a quickie wedding, do it all night, and then in the morning try to convince the lawyers we need an annulment?”

  Hunter’s entire being stiffens at my words. “Melody, if I ever get a hold of you like that, you can be sure I’m never letting you go.”

  All playfulness vanishes. His serious tone doesn’t match my obvious joke. No matter what the night promises, an
d as much as he turns me on, perhaps none of it’s worth the effort.

  Or maybe he is. And that scares me shitless.

  He scrapes his short whiskers against my neck, the bristled roughness meant to get me out of my head and bring me back to the here and now.

  “Okay, okay. Not Vegas. Well, based on my superhero powers heightened by my newfound inability to see, I’ll take a wild guess you’ve got me somewhere on the beach. Secluded, I hope.”

  His body relaxes, and he pulls me into him again, fluttering light kisses over my neck, shoulders, and every other naked place he can reach.

  The night air carries enough moisture in it to cling like a light film on my skin. The temperature at this time of year is perfect, where summer’s just around the corner so it’s still a bit cool at night. A soft breeze blows salt air in our direction, and the sound of the waves crashing washes over us like background music.

  “Mm-hmm.” His left hand strokes my back. Even the light pressure of his fingers burns my flesh. My body leans into his touch, giving into the blaze that the calloused tips of his fingers leave in their wake.

  “I heard you drop the tailgate.” I cling to the coherent sentence amidst the sensual assault to my body. “How appropriate. A tailgate down for the lead singer of Tailgate Down. Bet you do this to all your screaming girly fans.” My joke does nothing to calm down my nerves.

  Hunter bites my neck with enough force. “First, let’s get some things straight. I don’t have girls plural. I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while, and something tells me you haven’t had a boyfriend in a while.”

  His assumption sends my mind temporarily back to Trey, wondering what the two of them had talked about. Not wanting to go into specifics, I shake my head no.

  “Second, I’m improvising here tonight. I didn’t plan any of this, although I can’t say that what I already have with me might not prove useful.” His tone turns thoughtful.

  Consider my interest kindled. “So now that you’ve got me where you want me, what are you going to do with me?”

  Hunter’s breath hitches as his hands roam over my body, touching and teasing, caressing and rubbing. His control of not devouring me both impresses and frustrates me.

  “I don’t have you anywhere near where I want you,” his hungry voice rasps in my ear.

  With quick movement, Hunter’s strong arms scoop under my legs until he cradles me in his arms. He places me down on something hard, although soft fabric cushions the ridges underneath me. My legs swing off the end. His hands rake down my body in slow deliberate strokes, massaging away any sense of control I have left. His sensual touch travels down my left leg.

  “So fucking sexy,” he mutters.

  With a couple of yanks, he pulls off the boot. My right foot and leg get the same treatment, except when the boot comes off, he plants a kiss on the arch of my foot. His fingers and lips follow my leg up until he brushes my inner thigh with his stubble. I shift back and forth to bring him closer to that burning part of me.

  He stops. “Stay still, bad girl. My show right now, not yours.”

  “I thought you liked to share the spotlight,” I tease.

  Hunter’s teeth nip further up my thigh so close to where I want him that I can feel his hot breath blow across my apex. His head lingers a little too far away before he moans and moves away. I have to squeeze my legs together to ease the ache.

  He makes random noises around me, but nothing enough for me to make a guess. When he puts a hand on my knee, I calm down a bit. He leans into me and checks on the tightness of the bandana. The smell of soap and his flesh invades me. My hand reaches out to touch him, and he chuckles.

  “You’re horrible at staying still.” His fingers test the bandana. Satisfied, he moves out of reach, returning seconds later to place something next to me on the truck bed.

  Unable to touch him, my hands explore the softness of the blanket underneath me. “It’s certainly more than convenient that you have something to cushion my ass on this hard bed.”

  He grabs my legs and jerks me forward. I yelp, afraid of falling out of the back of the truck onto the ground. Soft sand or not, the thought of how it would hurt gets my heart racing. But as he’s proven all night, Hunter has me.

  “I should make you pay for saying that,” he says. His breath on my lips smells like mints. “But I love your smart mouth and what comes out of it.”

  He presses his lips to mine for a long minute, not doing anything more than making a connection. A sheen of sweat breaks over my skin from that small contact. He breaks away as my tongue slides out to lick his lips.

  “We need to make friends properly. I know you say you trust me, but let’s test that theory.”

  After a short beat, I accept the truth of my answer. “I do trust you. Promise. Bring it on, Cowboy.”

  “Then open your mouth.”

  Without hesitation, I open wide. Something sweet hits my tongue. He dangles it there but doesn’t place it completely in my mouth. My tongue touches and tastes it. Perhaps my licks linger a bit longer than necessary laced with small thoughtful, moans.

  “A cherry.”

  Hunter clears his throat. “Good guess. Open.”

  He places the fruit on my tongue, and I close my lips around it. The syrupy sweetness of the maraschino bursts in my mouth as my teeth sink into its soft flesh. I swallow the chewed fruit and work my tongue for a few seconds.

  “Ta-da,” I say, holding the knotted stem in my clenched teeth.

  “Talented girl.”

  My eyebrows wiggle, and I’m rewarded by his rumbling snicker.

  “Okay, how about tasting something else,” he says.

  “I’m game.”

  I hear the unscrewing of a cap. A distinctive smell of alcohol wafts to my nose as he lifts the bottle to my lips.

  “Open up and tip your head back a bit.”

  There are several alcohols that I never touch no matter the vintage or how expensive they are. I pray that, no matter what he pours into my mouth, it won’t end up spit all over his face. Not tequila, not tequila, not tequila, I chant in my head, concentrating on accepting and swallowing whatever he pours. The humor of that thought isn’t lost on me.

  “Hold still, woman,” Hunter commands, causing a few more giggles.

  He waits for me to stop, and I adopt the air of perfect obedience. A smooth edge of glass touches my lip. Room-temperature liquid flows into my mouth, enough for me to taste in a quick swish before swallowing. Bourbon. The good stuff.

  Hunter’s mouth attacks mine after I barely swallow. His tongue plunges inside. I can’t keep up with his wild abandon. His teeth nip and bite. The man takes what he wants from me, and I can’t refuse him. I don’t want to. Game over. Just fuck me.

  I reach up to pull him into me, but he grabs my hands and holds them on either side of me on the truck bed. The kiss is rough. It’s destructive, scraping the tender flesh of my lips and tearing down my walls of resistance. All too soon and before either of us have our fill, he stops and pulls away.

  My chest heaves. I breathe out and lick my lips. “Mmmm. Definitely the good stuff.”

  No answer but breaking waves. Where’d he go? The intense sexual tension in my body tells me he’s nearby. Maybe I have him as tangled up as he makes me.

  “You must have raided the bar before you left.”

  Hunter blows out a hard breath, mutters something under his breath, and chuckles. “You’re not the only bad one who can steal something from the club. I improvised a bit.”

  “If you were on my side of the R&R where I rule the bar, I’d have made you pay before you took any of my inventory.” My stern tone fools neither of us.

  “I’d have been glad to pay it and owe you some. Take another sip.”

  After enough tips of the bottle to equal at least a shot and a half, the warmth from the bourbon spreads through my body. It burns off any last nerves. Next, he has me smell and guess another object. Chocolate. No need to spoil the mood by telling him th
at, unlike other girls, it does nothing for me. I’m the queen of faking enjoyment.

  “Moving on to touch,” Hunter says.

  “Oh goody, you’re gonna let me feel you up like you’re my own personal book of braille?” My hands reach out toward him, my fingers wiggling.

  He grasps my hands firm in his and kisses my knuckles. “No. I’m going to run what I have over your body, and I want you to concentrate on the sensation. Don’t try and guess what it is, just feel.”

  Hunter primes my body to handle what comes next. He’d promised earlier that what I felt on stage would pale in comparison to what he could do to me later. At the time, I didn’t think that was possible.

  Later’s here. I’m blinded but wide open and ready to give in to the pleasure I know he can fulfill.

  12

  Hunter

  Sweet Holy Hell. This incredible woman’s gonna either pull me to the highest peak or push me over the edge.

  Her bourbon kisses drive me crazy, and I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy of hers that fills me with its scent of desire. My fingers itch to touch every inch on the outside and definitely her insides. I’ll play her body until she sings for me, ranging from quiet moans to gasps and cries of my name.

  Fuck. The sight of Mel on the back of my truck, legs for days open wide enough for me to stand in between them makes me dizzy. Her head tilts to the side when she fights giving me control.

  Nothing’s harder for me than stopping myself from pushing up her skirt, ripping off her panties, and plunging deep and hard inside to release my pent up need to claim her. Nothing’s harder except my damn cock.

  If I fuck her now, I’ll risk losing her. No doubt we’d both make each other explode. Our electric chemistry together guarantees that. But I want her to need me to take her. To ask me to give her more. No, to beg me. To know that when we’re finished, it’ll never be enough.

  I want to be her drug, her addiction, and her damn fix every single time. Because, fuck if I don’t already know that craving her won’t be my full-time job after tonight.