Dirty Cowboy

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Dirty Cowboy Page 52

by Alycia Taylor


  I thrust and bucked my hips as he began to pound his fingers into me as deep as they would go and then pulled them back, nearly all the way out. He’d repeat it then and even with the pillow in my mouth, I was making some deep, primal sounds that even I had never heard before. My body was throbbing so hard it was almost an ache and when the dam finally burst. My walls clamped down tightly on his fingers and began pulsing, sending the wetness cascading down across his fingers and hand. I shuddered and shook and I swear it felt like I would never stop coming. When I finally did, he drew his fingers out slowly and my body began to tremble. He grinned and looked up at my face.

  “Good baby?” he asked. Nothing that made sense would still come out of my mouth…but I think he had his answer in my garbled response. When I could control my muscles again I reached up and took hold of his hand and pulled him down next to me. I kissed him deeply, tasting myself on his lips and tongue. When I broke the kiss I sat up and looked down at him. His body was so freaking hot. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that I was with this hot guy. He looked like some kind of Greek God lying there with a light sheen of sweat covering the ripples of his hard muscles. His erection was practically dancing, it was throbbing so hard. I put my hand against his chest and moved my palm over it, delighting in the feel of it and the way my palm was able to glide easily across it. I let it continue to slide down over his flat, hard abs to the top of his pelvis and around his pulsating cock down to the tops of his thighs. I felt him shudder as I let them rub down one thigh and then up the other, stopping just short of touching his cock each time. I leaned forward and blew on it, causing him to moan. He had his hands on his stomach and when I got close to him his fingers stretched out and then he pulled them back in. He was aching and he wanted to touch it….Not that it wouldn’t turn me on to watch that, but not tonight. I wanted to be the one to give him his release. I took his hands in mine and moved them away. He grinned at me and then gasped loudly as I leaned down and without using my hands at all, I took him into my mouth. I let my tongue probe the tip and then slide slowly down the underside of the shaft. I pulled my lips up all the way to the end and then slid the all the way down. Then, I started sucking, hard. He was making loud noises now. He was the one that sounded primal. The sounds he was making were a major turn on and I felt myself gushing with wetness all over again.

  I reached up and wrapped my hand around the shaft as I sucked it, lightly stroking at the same time. Then I let my hand slide all the way down and touched his scrotum, lightly massaging it with the tips of my fingers. I got a little carried away…a little too excited, and I let my fingernails scrape it, delicately. He jerked and I stopped.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He laughed, “No, that was a good jerk,” he said. “An incredibly good jerk.” I smiled and went back to my work, this time letting my fingernails softly glide all the way back to the area behind his scrotum.

  “Oh God, Alexa. Baby that feels so good. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

  I continued to pleasure him with my mouth and hand, taking him all the way in to the back of my throat. I loved the feeling of him throbbing against my lips. I increased my suction, using only my lips now and the back of my throat. He was moving his hips up and down, saying my name over and over until he finally wrapped his hands up in my hair and pulled me off of him.

  “Jesus, baby. That’s so fucking good. You have to stop now, okay. I want to be inside of you when I come.”

  I smiled at him and moved up. I straddled him and rubbed my wet slit across his erection. He reached up and took me by the arms and pulled me down towards him so that he could take a nipple into his mouth. He bit down lightly and I nearly came again.

  “Oh shit! Ian!”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “I’m not sure, but if that was pain you can call me a masochist because I loved it. Do it again.” He grinned and bit down on the other one. I let out another little yelp and reached down and took his cock in my hand. I gave it a couple of firm strokes before lining it up with my opening. He shivered, and then as I lowered myself down onto him, I saw his urgency in the way he grabbed my hips and pulled me down on him hard. I started riding him, up and down, in and out while he returned to sucking and licking and biting on my nipples. With each bite, I increased my pace, lifting my hips nearly off of him before slamming my pussy back down hard. I would grind against his pelvis before doing it again. He still had my breasts in his mouth but he was breathing hard and trying to say something at the same time. I had my hands pressed into his chest and I could feel his heart slamming hard against it.

  He opened his eyes and looked into mine as he thrust his hips up into me. Our pace got faster and both of our thrusts harder and I could see the look on his face that I was coming to know well…he was getting close. I leaned down and sucked his bottom lip into my mouth and played across it with my tongue as he wrapped his arms around my back and crushed me down into his chest. I could feel myself getting ready for another orgasm just about the time he cried out and said, “Oh fuck, Alexa! Shit! Oh my God!” I felt myself clamp down hard against him as he swelled and pulsed and the liquid filled me so full that it began to seep down across his legs and pelvis. I collapsed into him and we both lay there, breathing hard against each other, trying to get just one full breath. When my breath was finally starting to get under control, I felt his lips touch the top of my head and he said, “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but thank you God. Thank you so much.”

  I lifted my head up and looked into his sexy, half-open blue eyes. He smiled and I smiled back. I collapsed back down and I think I fell asleep like that. We both knew how the other one felt. It was warm and safe and right. If it didn’t work out in the long run, I know that these memories of my times with him will be ones that I will cherish forever.

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  PULSE BOX SET

  THE COMPLETE SERIES

  By Alycia Taylor

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016. All rights reserved.

  PULSE ONE

  Chapter One

  The only good thing about this week was that it was finally coming to an end. Absolutely every work-out outfit I owned was dirty because the washer had been broken since the previous Friday and I couldn’t afford to get it fixed until the beginning of the following week. I worked late every day this week so my brilliant plan was to get up early this morning and go to the laundromat and wash at least one load of clothes so I had something clean to wear to work. Go figure it would be the one stinking night that I’d forget to charge my phone, so while I was sleeping, it died and the alarm never went off.

  I woke up in a complete panic. I could tell by the amount of light sneaking in through the blinds that it was a lot later than I’d planned on getting up. I’d thrown back the covers, cussed a lot and ran out to the living room in my underwear—the last clean pair I had. Thank God I lived alone and I’d at least showered before I put them on last night. It was already seven thirty a.m. and my first session was scheduled for eight o’clock. The gym was a ten-minute drive if I obeyed the speed laws, five if I didn’t and I got lucky and all the cops were at Starbucks. I realized that as I stood there in my underwear thinking all of that, I was wasting precious minutes. I ran to the bathroom, stripped out of the underwear I was going to put back on while the water in the shower heated up and then took a two-minute sho
wer. After I dried off, I pulled on a pair of compression pants and a wrinkled tank that I fished out of the hamper. I did sniff them first to make sure they weren’t completely disgusting. I grabbed my gym bag that had my deodorant and body spray in it which I could slap on when I got there and then I pulled on yesterday’s socks and my Nikes and ran out the door.

  I didn’t even bother warming up my poor little car before pulling out of the driveway but she got a quick warm up as I sat and cursed the garbage man who was blocking the exit. I made good time for a few minutes after that, but it seemed like all the city workers were against me. A city bus came to a dead stop at a green light right in front of me. I had to slam on my brakes to keep from rear-ending it and then wait until it decided to move again before I could go because I couldn’t get over into the other lane. There was a lot more cussing. I finally made it in one piece and left everyone on the road with me that way as well. I parked my car in the lot in front of the Madison Gym where I worked and finally allowed myself to check the time. Damn! It was eight- oh-five! I got out of the car and felt the chill from where my wet hair had lain on my back as I ran into work. I wish I could get a do-over on this day…just this once.

  When I got inside I pulled my time card out of my bag and stopped in front of the clock to punch in. The time on the work clock said eight ten, lying bastard. I bent in half and flipped my long wet hair over my head. Using my hands and the elastic band I had around my wrist, I twisted the curly mess up into a bun in the middle of my head. When I stood back up I realized I had attracted attention. Some of the men in the gym had actually stopped working out and were staring at me. Geez, how bad did I look? My face felt as red as my hair as I forced myself across the room through the maze of exercise machines and the curious stares and found my first client of the day waiting for me. Mark Fox was an MMA fighter. He was one of those guys who were born with a six pack and a propensity for sports. He’d never had to try hard to do anything, it always just came naturally. He was quickly finding out that mixed martial arts was a whole different ballgame so to speak. He was taking it good-naturedly for the most part though. I had yet to see him get genuinely upset about anything.

  “There she is,” he said with a grin.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I told him. “You wouldn’t believe the week I’m having.”

  “No worries,” he said. “I’m not in a hurry today.”

  “Good,” I said. “Please just ignore how I look today. My washer is broken and I overslept…” I realized I was talking too much. I talked too much when I was nervous and I had a tendency to say stupid things when I was anxious. I told myself to shut up before I said way too much and embarrassed myself in front of one of my best clients. I was new at this, and since I was only an assistant trainer, he was one of my few personal clients. I liked training Mark. He was a nice guy and he didn’t hit on me throughout the entire session like some of the men I trained did. I took a deep breath and said, “Anyways, let’s get started over here on the steps.”

  “I hate this one,” Mark said like an insolent child. I laughed and said,

  “Most guys do, but trust me, your feet are the foundation for your entire body. If they’re not functioning top-notch it can throw off your entire kinetic chain.”

  “And what is a kinetic chain again?” He knew what a kinetic chain was, he was just stalling. I explained it anyways as if he really didn’t know.

  “The fifty-cent definition is that every part of your body, your muscles, your joints, and your nerves have to work together in order to make you move. If just one of those things is off, it will throw everything else off…and that includes your feet. So let’s go, four-way holds.”

  He made a face at me but he moved over to the step. He just stood there, though, acting like he didn’t know what to do. It killed me sometimes how these grown-ass men acted like gigantic babies sometimes.

  “One leg heel raises at twelve, three, six, and nine o’clock and hold for thirty seconds.” I looked at my stopwatch and said, “Okay, now.” Mark started the exercises and while he worked I told him, “Good, you’re doing good. You’ll see, this will make your foundation solid and keep you on your feet more.”

  Mark grunted out a laugh and said, “Are you suggesting I spend more time on my ass in the cage than I do my feet?”

  “I’d have to reserve judgment on that one until I saw one of your bouts,” I told him. I didn’t like fighting. It made me sick to my stomach to watch two men pummel away at each other. I was about to say something else, but when I looked up all thought other than what I saw directly in front of me was completely gone from my brain.

  For a second I was sure that I was imagining him. He was looking right at me, watching me, I think. I’d never seen anything or anyone quite like him. He was literally beautiful. He was tall, probably at least six three or four with closely shaved dark hair and the sexiest pale blue eyes I’d ever seen. He didn’t have a shirt on, which was probably the cause of my cotton mouth. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t as if I’d never seen a half-naked man before. I see them every day, all day long at work. I work with them, next to them, I train them, and I even touch them…a lot. But this guy was different. He looked like he’d been sculpted out of clay and then painted by an artist. He was lightly covered with sweat from working out and it glistened across the colors of the tattoos that ran across his muscular chest and disappeared over one shoulder. I suddenly realized that the entire time I was thinking about how hot he was, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me. Of course that also meant that I’d been staring at him. Slightly unprofessional I was sure. He had to be wondering why someone who was obviously gainfully employed looked like a homeless person with her wrinkly clothes and uncombed hair. I had to force myself to return my attention to my client. He finished his four way holds and I said,

  “Okay, onto glutes.”

  He winked at me and said, “You just like looking at my ass, don’t you?”

  I rolled my eyes and said, “Maybe if you did more squats like I tell you to, you’d have an ass to be looked at.”

  Mark wasn’t offended, he laughed. He was also a guy who knew how nice-looking he was and no amount of teasing from me would change that. We moved over to a different mat and I handed him a long thick band.

  “Hip thrust,” I told him.

  He curled his lip but he took the band and wrapped it under his butt like he was going to sit on it. I counted as he did his reps. We did ten the last time we conditioned so that day we increased them to twelve. Mark was in great shape and this was an easy exercise for him. It was like squats, only he’d be using the band instead of weights. We didn’t use weights during conditioning; he’d have his weight training tomorrow. I looked over at the guy with the tattoos again. He had his back to me now and I saw that his tattoos ran down the back of one arm and across the top of his back. Both legs were tatted up too, and speaking of glutes…damn! Mark could take a few pointers there.

  “Hello?” I turned back and realized I’d forgotten to give Mark his count.

  “Sorry about that, I was thinking about a bill I had to pay later on.” Mark glanced over to where I’d been looking and said, “Yeah, okay. I’m paying you to look at my ass, not his.”

  “Moving on, let’s work those abs.” We moved over to the mat where the power wheel was already out. Mark got on his knees and grabbed the handles on the wheel. As he rolled out and back in I talked him through the proper technique for optimal effect.

  “Okay, keep your hips, spine shoulders, and head in a straight line.” He did a few more and I said, “Your back is going to hurt doing it like that…do we have to go back to technique?” Mark didn’t answer me, he was using his wind elsewhere, but I knew he heard me because his body was as straight as a board now. Sometimes you had to talk to them like they were children to get results.

  We finished that exercise and on the way to our next station Mark said, “Damn it! I left my water in the back in my bag.”

  �
��Don’t drink half of it on your way out here. Remember, only sips.”

  “Yes, Mother,” he mumbled good-naturedly under his breath.

  While I waited for him to get back, I noticed hot guy looking at me again. I smiled and as he passed me on his way to his next station I said a very polite, “Hi.”

  Mr. Stoic didn’t even twitch a lip and whatever he said in response to my “Hi” came out in an unintelligible mumble. It figures, he’s way too pretty to have a personality too.

  “Okay, got my water,” Mark said as he walked back up. I looked at the bottle, it was half empty.

  “Did you drink all of that between the locker room and here?”

  “No, it was only half full when I got here.”

  “You are such a liar,” I said.

  “I can’t believe I pay you for this abuse,” he said with a grin. “What’s next?”

  “Upper back,” I told him. “We need to work on getting rid of those rounded shoulders of yours.” He suddenly stood up straight and tried to force his shoulders back. I ignored him and said, “On the mat.”

  “Reverse crawl?” he asked, obviously unenthused. “I hate this one.”

  “You say that about every single one.”

  “I know,” he said as he got on his knees on the mat again. “I hate them all.” He began to crawl backwards. I’d found that it was a really good exercise for strengthening the upper back and shoulders as well as straightening out the spine. The benefit for a fighter was that it added more power to their punch. They hated it because who really looked cool crawling around on the floor…in reverse? I had to keep reminding them that it was about what they’d look like later, in the ring or the cage or on the field…wherever their prowess may be.

 

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