“Leave them there,” he demanded. “I want to watch.” She continued what he’d started, while his hands explored other parts of her body, making their way down until his fingers found her sex. She jolted when they found their target, but his strong arms, around her, kept her still. “Relax and let me take care of you.” His voice was raspy. His fingers read the subtle nuances of her body.
His arms were tight against the sides of her body, pinning her between his legs. She couldn’t move, let alone squirm away from his incessant touch. Her orgasm came on so quickly, it surprised her. “That’s what I like to see.” He continued to soothe, bringing her down from her release.
Her thoughts drifted as she once again relaxed against him. He was good. Really good. How many women had experienced such pleasure from his strong hands, his body?
He trailed his fingers up her arms and squeezed her shoulders. “Thought I told you to relax.” His tongue followed his words into her ear, and she was powerless to do anything but his bidding. She pushed the intrusive thoughts of other women out of her mind and focused on what his hands and mouth were doing to her. “That’s better.” Could he really read her that well?
He reached over and lifted the jar of lavender scrub. “What’s this?” he asked, but Tristan doubted he expected an answer. Next he picked up the loofah she had unwrapped and set on the edge of the tub before she’d drawn the bath.
“Does this hurt?” he rubbed the scrub-coated loofah along her arm.
“No, it feels wonderful,” she crooned. He continued, carefully washing each of her arms before scooping more of the scrub onto her breasts.
“I’ll be careful with these,” he promised, tapping her nipples with his index fingers. He continued to loofah her tummy and the tops of her thighs. Tristan felt him rise from the water, and turned around to see him sitting on the tile on the edge of the tub. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back, so she rested where he’d been sitting.
“Lean forward, and let me scrub your back.” He moved her long hair out of his way, and she felt him spread the scrub across her shoulders. He was gentle as he pampered her, the same way he’d been when he made love to her. A groan of pleasure escaped her lips.
He smiled. “I guess, I’m doin’ this right.”
“So right.” Tristan closed her eyes and let her mind enjoy the sensations of Bullet washing every part of her body.
“Slide farther in,” he gently pushed her shoulders. “Get your hair wet for me.”
He shampooed her hair, and then ran conditioner through it. With both hands, he massaged her scalp. His hands were strong, yet he knew how to be gentle.
“Have you ever considered a career in massage?”
Bullet laughed, but his voice was serious. “I haven’t done this to any other woman, and Tristan, in the future, I don’t intend to have my hands on anyone but you.”
She didn’t really believe him but smiled anyway. It didn’t matter. For now, she was the one enjoying his caresses. At the end of the day, or the end of the week, they’d eventually make their way back into their own lives. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about his hands on other women and spoil the time she had with him.
Harris had done a number on her, and for a long time, she allowed the past hurt to keep her from living in the present. She had grown up a lot since her time with the philandering bull rider. Her heart had toughened, and at the same time, she’d matured.
“You still here?” Bullet teased. He’d shifted so he was facing her, his back against the other side of the tub. His hands continued pampering as he lavished the scrub on her feet.
“Yes, I’m still here,” she purred.
“Good, ’cause I don’t want your mind driftin’ anywhere else. I want your full attention right here, knowin’ it’s my hands makin’ you feel this way.”
Did he think her mind was on someone else? How could it be? Not with the way his hands were making her feel. He rested her foot in the water and stared into her eyes.
“I like you this way.”
“Which way is that?”
“Open to me.” He put his hands on her knees and opened her legs. “Put your ankles on the edge of the tub,” he said, as he helped rest them where he wanted them. “That’s better.”
Tristan’s natural response was to cover herself, but she didn’t do it. Instead, she met his gaze, and looked into his eyes as he again brought her to the release he was so good at coaxing from her.
“Your turn,” she said after she’d recovered from the orgasm that shook her to her core.
Bullet closed his eyes and slunk his body deeper into the water. When he joined her in the bath, he’d planned to hold her while they soaked, but having her in front of him, naked, was more than he could resist. He wanted his hands on her, everywhere at once. His brain wanted him to take his time, but the rest of him refused to listen.
He’d watched her last night, every time she climaxed. The look on her face was addictive. Five minutes after he saw it, he wanted to see it again. Her body responded to him as though it had been his to enjoy forever. In the same way they fit when he held her, or danced with her, their bodies were a perfect fit when he made love to her.
As she reciprocated the care and nurturing he had given her body, he felt his heart slipping deeper into feelings he’d never experienced before. This was far more than lust, far more than he’d ever felt for anyone, including Callie. Bullet knew for certain, he was falling in love with Tristan McCullough.
“I wish I had time to have breakfast with you, but I’m late, and I have a feeling no one is ever late to a training session with Buck Bishop,” Bullet sighed.
“Buck Bishop? The Buck Bishop? That’s who you’re training with?”
“Yes, ma’am. Isn’t that somethin’?”
“And it’s just you. No one else is training with him this week?”
“I got him all to myself.” Clearly Tristan understood the significance of what that meant. He had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming even as he said it.
“I’m really happy for you, Bullet. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” He appreciated the sentiment from her, but couldn’t help but wonder if he still wouldn’t be good enough for Lost Cowboy, even after a week with Buck.
“Can I watch?”
“Of course you can. But if Buck catches me flirtin’ with you, don’t be surprised if he chases you off.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll watch from the dining hall porch. I won’t be in flirting distance.”
“You’ll be in viewing distance though, which means my body radar will be registerin’ the whole time you’re there.”
“If you’d rather I didn’t—”
“I didn’t say that. You watchin’ will just make me try harder to be the best damn bull rider you’ve ever seen.” He pulled her close and kissed her hard. “I hate to say this, but I gotta run.”
Bullet went out her door and into his cabin. A few minutes later, she heard the other door close, and couldn’t help but look out the window. He was a sight to behold, unclothed and clothed. He wore the same chaps he had yesterday, and this time, a crisp white shirt with his wranglers. Tristan watched him walk away and counted the hours, on her fingers, until he’d be done training.
Part way down the trail, he stopped and looked in the direction of her cabin. Before she had a chance to move away from the window, he tipped his hat to show he knew she was watching.
She checked the time on her phone. She had a half hour to get to the dining hall if she wanted breakfast. While she was there she’d pick up a few things for lunch, and extra for Bullet, who hadn’t had time to eat. She wondered if Buck would give him a break, and felt guilty that she’d kept him occupied so long this morning.
After breakfast she sat at a table on the porch of the dining hall and pulled out her sketchbooks. She had two—one for Lost Cowboy designs, and the other for her own collection. Along with sketching, Tristan wanted to jot down notes for Bull
et’s Lost Cowboy story. She needed to remember to thank Lyric for the idea and tell her father about it.
She hoped the story would culminate with Bullet making it to the annual National Finals Rodeo.
1968
Bill walked from the house down to the corral after Clancy gave him the news. It wasn’t that he was upset by it necessarily; it was just a lot to get used to.
Clancy had dated his mama in high school, he’d told Bill. After they broke up and she started dating Bill’s daddy, the three remained friends. Clancy had visited his friend when he heard of his illness, and that was when Gene Flynn asked Clancy to look out for his family after he died.
Nothing happened between Clancy and his mama while she was married to Mr. Snyder, but when she told Clancy she was divorcing him, Clancy took the opportunity to confess his true feelings for her.
“Your mama is a fine woman,” he said to Bill. “I reckon that’s why I never married anyone else. No one came close to holdin’ a candle to Jane.” Bill’s daddy always called her Janie. He was glad Clancy didn’t.
Clancy told Bill he had two questions for him. The first was to ask if he wanted to ride down with him tomorrow to pick up his mama and sister. The other was to ask for Bill’s blessing to marry his mama.
Clancy didn’t need Bill’s permission, and neither did his mama. If needing his permission had been the case before, he would’ve refused to permit her to marry Mr. Snyder, that was for damn sure. But now, things were very different. This was Clancy.
He had to admit it was getting harder to remember much about his daddy. He still missed him. But Clancy had become like a second father to him.
He had no doubt Clancy would love his mother, and care for her and his sister. If he hadn’t stepped in, these last few years, Bill didn’t know what might’ve happened to them.
When he asked about his leaving the Double-P-Bar, Clancy assured him he felt ready to go. “In addition to the house, Russ Snyder owned a lot of land. It belongs to your mama now, too.” No matter how much land there was, Bill doubted it could match what Clancy had at the Double-P-Bar.
“You sure about this?” he’d asked him again.
Clancy told him he was, and then asked Bill to go down to the barn and check on the horses. The horses didn’t need checking on, Bill knew that as well as Clancy knew he needed time to process what he’d just been told.
When he got back to the house, Clancy was waiting for him on the front porch.
“I’d like to talk to my mama tomorrow, if that’s okay with you. And my sister.” Bill felt as though he hadn’t been a very good son or a very good brother these last few years. He wanted that to change.
Clancy nodded.
“And I want to look into colleges closer to Colorado Springs.”
Clancy didn’t argue with him about it, and Bill was relieved. As much as he had his heart set on going to Western State, where Dottie would be attending college, he knew, in his gut, it was time for him to put his family before other things in his life.
When they got back from picking up his mama, Dottie would be at the ranch. She had asked her Aunt Sadie if she could stay with her while she was in town for Bill’s graduation. As soon as he could, he’d let her know he was changing his plans.
He couldn’t allow himself to hope that she’d understand, or be willing to continue their long-distance relationship. She’d given up a lot in high school, like going to the prom or dating local fellas, in order to be his girl. He couldn’t ask her to wait for him any longer than she already had.
Now that he was graduating from high school, it was time for him to give up rodeo too. Clancy needed help with the land that his mama now owned. Between working that land and going to college, he wouldn’t have time to travel the rodeo circuit.
He rubbed his chest, knowing doing so wouldn’t ease the pain he felt. He was about to let go of the only two dreams he’d had in life. One was to be an all-around rodeo cowboy champion, and the other was to marry Dottie.
He wouldn’t speak of either dream again. If only not thinking about them were as easy.
14
Bullet could sense Buck’s frustration with him, and he felt terrible, wasting the man’s time. Heck, he wasn’t just a man; he was a legend. Instead of doing the work Buck had asked him to do, Bullet got lost in Tristan McCullough.
He’d had every intention of waking up early and getting his workout done this morning, but the lure of Tristan’s naked body in the bath was more than he could resist.
When Buck offered to let him break for lunch, he said he’d go get his workout done instead. Buck told him that wasn’t a good idea, and to wait until they were done. He also suggested they wrap up early so Bullet would have time to work out and get to dinner, but Bullet asked him not to do that.
As hard as it was going to be, he wasn’t here to court Tristan; he was here to practice bull riding. A lot of people made sacrifices both personally and financially to get him here. He wouldn’t feel right, wasting their money or their time.
“Give me a minute?” he asked after he dismounted the last practice bull. It had been a good ride, which only reminded him again why he was here. Buck nodded, waved, and went back to his conversation with the guys pulling gates.
Tristan appeared lost in whatever she was working on, and didn’t raise her head as he approached. If he had the time, he’d stand right where he was and watch her. He could watch her for hours. She tilted her head as she studied what was in front of her. At that angle, the way her neck rounded open, he could sink his teeth into her, run his tongue—what was he doing? He came up here to tell her he wouldn’t be joining her for dinner tonight, not fantasize about what he wanted to do to her neck or any other part of her body.
“Hi,” she said as he walked closer and she noticed him. “The last ride was your best so far.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t think she was paying that much attention. “Uh, listen…”
“Buck wants you to focus less on me and more on bulls. Is that what you’re trying to figure out how to tell me?”
Damn, she rattled him. “I guess. But not entirely. There are workouts he wants me to do after we’re done each day. I didn’t get one in last night, or this morning.” He regretted his words as soon as he spoke them. He made it sound as though it was her fault, and it wasn’t. The responsibility rested solely on his shoulders, and in his usual fashion, he’d shirked it.
“What did he say about ‘post-workout activities’? Anything?”
“Hmm, let me think about that,” he smiled. “He did mention something about getting in the hot tub when I finished.”
“I see. And what about meals? I doubt Buck would be happy if he knew you skipped both breakfast and lunch today. What about after your workout? Think Buck would care if you ate then?”
Oh, man, the visuals she was giving him with her questions. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on bulls now? He might as well tell Buck he was done for the day.
Tristan closed the book in front of her and stood. “Come here, cowboy,” she motioned him closer. “If you promise to do everything Buck tells you, I’ll deliver supper to the hot tub later. Sound good?”
Hell, yeah, it did. “Uh huh,” were the only words he could think to say out loud.
“And if you’re a really, really good boy, I’ll join you.”
Bullet almost bit his tongue as he watched her walk away. He never rode shotgun, but there was no question, Tristan had taken control of the wheel.
On the walk back to her cabin, Tristan stopped herself from looking back at Bullet at least a dozen times. She opened her door and quickly closed it behind her, resting her back against it.
Who was she? She barely recognized herself. Exactly when had she become so wanton? And she wasn’t the only one surprised by her behavior. Poor Bullet had been tongue-tied.
The thought of it made her giggle. Bullet was clearly used to being the seducer, not the other way around. Warmth spread over her when she thoug
ht about the effect her words had on him. She only hoped that, once he got back to the practice pen, he’d be able to focus. At least she’d given him incentive to.
After rinsing her face with cold water, she took her sketchbook and walked outside, going in the opposite direction from where Bullet and Buck were working. She saw a large boulder, a little higher up, that would make a perfect place for her to sit in the sun and sketch.
She settled on the rock and opened the sketchbook containing the Lost Cowboy designs. She turned page after page and studied the chaps she’d worked on most of the morning.
She usually sketched just the clothing, as opposed to the clothing on a model or mannequin. But this time, she’d drawn the chaps on a faceless cowboy. Face or not, her model was Bullet.
It wasn’t necessary to sketch the upper half of the body; the chaps were for the lower half. But she hadn’t been able to stop herself. She added detail to the shirts the cowboy wore, so when she showed the designs to her daddy, he wouldn’t wonder. She really didn’t care about the shirts though, just what was under them. She’d drawn them snug, so the outline of the cowboy’s pecs, flat six-pack abs, and powerful arms was evident. She even took the time to draw hands. In every sketch, they were Bullet’s.
Tristan fanned her face. Perhaps she should’ve considered taking a cold shower before she left her cabin. She slammed the book closed and set it on the rock. For the rest of the afternoon, she’d focus on the women’s collection and try to keep the sexy-as-all-get-out cowboy off her mind.
Piper had outdone herself with the picnic supper she packed for Tristan and Bullet. Grapes, strawberries, dry salami, and different types of cheese were tucked in the basket, with a baguette and a terrine of foie gras drizzled with a port wine sauce. She’d even included a bottle of Pinot Noir and two glasses. For dessert she gave them chocolate truffles covered in raspberry dust.
Tristan hadn’t felt hungry until Piper began describing the basket’s contents. Now she was famished. She ran into Buck earlier, after he’d finished with Bullet, who told her Bullet’s workout would take approximately ninety minutes.
Win Me Over (Cowboys of Crested Butte Book 5) Page 15
