Hard Ride: A Cowboy Romance

by Gigi Thorne

  Oh, fuck, it’s heaven just to have him touch me. Luke’s hands are rough from the farm work and it lights up every inch of my skin. His hot mouth meets the curve of my shoulder, and the pad of one thumb circles one of my nipples and I want more, more, more.

  “Luke—”

  “Jesus, Iz, I can’t do this.”

  My stomach drops. “Nobody’s here. Nobody can see—”

  Luke scoops me up into his arms. “I’m not going to take you in the living room like—” He shakes his head, already moving. “Like I don’t even know what. Not on the floor. Not for you.”

  My heart sings with being carried by his strong arms and I twist a hand into his shirt. “Who says I wouldn’t like being taken on the floor?”

  He gives a low groan. “Not to begin with. I want you—” The stairs make no difference to him. It’s me. It’s me that’s making his breath catch and his voice full. He kicks the door to his bedroom open—the master bedroom, large and spacious—and in three steps, he’s at the side of the bed.

  Luke sets me down and I push myself up on my knees, desperate to touch him again. But he holds himself back, looking down into my eyes. His are a multifaceted green, so many shades I can’t count them all.

  He clears his throat. “You sure about this, Isabel?”

  It’s so fucking noble. “I’m sure. So sure. Please—”

  “Please?” His hands go to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one. With every one that pops open, more of his body is revealed. And holy shit. I thought shirtless Luke was hot when he was a senior in high school. That was nothing compared to what he looks like now. Every inch of him is lean and toned, the lines of his abs all defined and tanned. I want to lick them.

  “Please what?” His voice is husky. For the first time all day, the corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile that sends pure lightning streaking down my spine, straight between my legs where it pools warm.

  “Take—take it off.” Kneeling here on his bed, I’m hit with a burst of shyness. I’m the one who came over here in a bathing suit. I’m the one who arched my back when I bent over to talk to people just in case he was watching. I’m the one who threw myself at him, wanting him to notice me, wanting him to want me, and suddenly I’m nervous. “Take more off.”

  Luke might be afraid of this moral conundrum with my brother, but he is all man in this moment. He straightens up, cocking his head to the side. “I don’t know if that would be fair. You’re still half-dressed.”

  “Pants first. You take off your pants, and then I’ll—” Then I’ll show you everything.

  “Deal.” Luke undoes his belt and the pants fall to the floor. I don’t gasp out loud, but it’s a near thing. He’s huge. The bulge behind his tight boxers is painfully unmistakable. “You still sure?”

  Jesus, it’s filthy, the things that are going through my head. I wish I was kneeling on the floor, so I could explore him fully. With my mouth. With my tongue. With my throat, if necessary. That’s not to say I have any skill in this department. I’m so successful at work because all the assholes at college were a complete letdown. I’d never have sucked them off. I’d never have acted like this, even for marketing purposes.

  “Yes.” The word comes out as a choked whisper. “Yes. Let me see.”

  He pulls down the boxers.

  He pulls off the boxers, and oh. My. GOD.

  Luke Rider has been gifted with a cock straight from heaven. It’s long and thick and straight as an arrow, the tip already glistening. I thought the bulge behind his boxers would prepare me.

  It did not.

  My vagina tightens defensively, or maybe it’s just nervous excitement.

  “I feel like I should tell you something.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  Luke’s cock dips an inch, the sex version of his shoulders sagging. “Jesus Christ, Isabel. Now’s when you’re going to tell me you’re a virgin?”

  7

  Luke

  Isabel’s eyes go wide. “No, no, no. I’m totally not. Not a virgin, anyway. I’ve definitely had sex before.”

  My gut has gone cold. “Don’t bullshit me. You have to know how you sound.”

  She raises a hand in the air. “You have a Bible? I will swear on the Bible that I have had sex before.” Then she bites her lip. “I haven’t had…good sex before, though.”

  I want to back slowly out of the room, out of the house, and out of the world. I’ve got the woman of my dreams half-naked on my bed, and she’s about to explain to me in so many words that this is really her first time. I can hear it in her voice. “Be real clear with me now, Iz.” I can’t bring myself to describe the particulars.

  “It went all the way in, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “God.” I cover my eyes with my hand, but I still ache to see her, so I look back. “You sound like you’re lying.”

  “Luke.” She rises up a little, her ass coming off those stupid heel sandals she’s still wearing. “Would it be so stupid if—” Isabel sighs. “I honestly can’t believe you want to have this conversation right now, but this is not my first rodeo. It’s only the first rodeo with someone I… actually want to be there with.” She takes a deep breath and seems to steel herself. “I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I can remember. There!” She throws her hands up in the air. “I’ve said it. Now you know. And full disclosure, I came over here in this bikini hoping you’d notice me. Hoping that this would happen.” There’s a certain desperation in her eyes that I’m surprised to see—she’s gorgeous, and she’s strong and independent, and I can’t imagine that there weren’t hundreds of guys in the city lining up to take her hand.

  “You wanted this to happen.”

  Those blue eyes are absolutely sincere. “I want this to keep happening.”

  A slow fire replaces the cold sitting in the pit of my stomach, and my cock Is throbbing again.

  “Please, Luke,” she pleads, resting her ass down on her feet. “Don’t make me beg.”

  It’s like a match to tinder. All the air in the room presses against my skin. I step forward and bend to lick the side of her neck, a stroke in the sensitive hollow at the corner of her collarbone. Isabel moans. “You’ve got to learn one lesson,” I murmur in her ear.

  “Teach it.”

  “I’ll make you beg as much as I please.”

  I sweep her up into a kiss then, my hands wrapped around her face, her small hands wrapped around my wrists, and we’re the perfect fit. Her lips part under mine, letting me in, and it’s not the awkward clash of two people who aren’t compatible but the hot slip and slide of two people who should have been doing this all along. Isabel is a live wire of pure joy in my hands. I can feel her trembling with it, feel the curve of the smile along her lips even as we taste each other. Even as we devour each other.

  I kiss her until I can’t take it anymore, until she might burst into flame underneath my palms.

  And then I flip her over onto her hands and knees.

  She arches her back like she knows what the sight of it does to me, watching her ass press toward me, the lines of that bikini standing out against her creamy skin.

  Isabel Prescott, on all fours on my bed. My cock is ready to explode just from the fact of it.

  It’s so damn wrong.

  I hook my fingers into the waistband of the bikini and tug it off one agonizing inch at a time over the round curve of her ass.

  Isabel lifts her feet so I can pull the bikini bottom off her ankles and keeps her knees together. It’s an utterly tantalizing sight, and for a horrible moment I think she might turn over on her side, decide against this, and run out the front door.

  But she wriggles those hips and it has the effect of spreading her glistening pink folds open to the world.

  Open to me.

  “Yes.”

  I stroke two fingers over her slit, fingers gathering her juices, and she throws her head back with an electric moan.

  “This—this
is so filthy,” she gasps, while I tease her entrance with one, two, three fingers.

  She only gets wetter. “You like it.”

  “So do you,” she counters, pressing back against my hand.

  I withdraw the fingers and spread her open with both palms. “Let’s find out more about what you like.” Isabel shudders, suddenly shy, and reaches back as if she’s going to hide herself from me. A jagged lust arcs through me and I catch her wrist in my hand, stopping her.

  “Keep that hand down so I can see you. All of you.”

  She turns her head to the side and I can see that her cheeks are as pink as the morning sunrise. Isabel is panting, her breaths fast and shallow, and all I’ve done is touch her. “I—I got shy for a minute there.”

  “How can you be shy, precious thing? You’ve been standing out by the highway in a bikini for God knows how long. And now you’re bent over on my bed.” I stroke a hand over her ass. “There’s nowhere to hide. How could you possibly be shy?”

  “Because it’s you.” Her voice is full with meaning. “I’ve wanted this for so long, and now that it’s really happening, I—” She arches and rolls under my touch and I swirl my fingertips against her clit. “I’m—I didn’t expect it to be this good, I didn’t expect for—”

  “Quiet.” I stroke the hot, wet folds between her legs again, then press two fingers inside. “Stay quiet and still.”

  8

  Isabel

  Luke Rider’s hand is between my legs, and for once in my life, all my nerves are sparking with pleasure. He’s not a fumbling college freshman, he’s a man—a man who knows what he’s doing. And he knows what we’re doing is so wrong that it’s right.

  There’s no reason I shouldn’t let Luke take me to bed. No reason that I can think of right now, anyway. I’m sure they’ll come to me later.

  For now, I’m on hands and knees on Luke’s bed, arching my back to give him maximum access to my pussy. Oh, God, I’m so exposed.

  And I like it.

  Luke presses his fingertips into the small of my back, applying enough pressure that I know—I should keep that curve in my spine, keep my ass in the air. He makes a sound low in his throat and presses two fingers inside me. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been, but they still feel thick. My muscles contract around those fingers as he steps to the side and maneuvers so that his thumb makes contact with my clit. “Sweet Jesus, Isabel.”

  I roll my hips to buy more contact with his hand. “Jesus has nothing to do with—nothing to do with this.”

  “It’s a deal with the devil,” Luke says, his voice husky, driving his fingers in deep. One twist of them against a spot no man has hit before and he has me bucking, my hips rocking. With just his fingers. My God. What can the man do with his cock? “We shouldn’t be doing this, Iz.”

  The words break into the pleasure haze in my brain. “Don’t—don’t you dare stop now.” He withdraws the fingers and pushes them back in. “I thought you were here to teach me a lesson.”

  Luke takes his hand away, and before I can whimper with frustration, he flips me over and he’s got me pinned. Pinned. I’m sprawled out naked on the bed, Luke’s hand wrapped around my jaw. His green eyes blaze with lust. It’s so potent, it takes my breath away. I squirm in his grip, feeling every bit like Cy’s little sister in this moment instead of a grown, independent woman.

  “You listen to me,” Luke says, his face deadly serious. “You can’t be out front like that, asking people to sign up for tours.” He runs his thumb over the side of my neck without releasing my jaw. I reach for his wrist with both my hands, and he catches them neatly in his and pins them above my head. “Do you understand?”

  “No,” I say petulantly. “Didn’t you want more customers?”

  “Yes, but not like that.” His eyes follow the curves of my breasts. “I can’t have you out there. Not like that. You need to be taught.”

  My breath hitches and I spread my legs wider. His cock twitches, and can you blame me if I love the way he licks his bottom lips when he sees me like this, as if he’s going to devour me whole? This game we’re playing has me superheated from the inside out, and with every moment that passes, I’m closer to combusting.

  “Teach me a lesson, Luke.”

  He narrows his eyes. “You’re not very good at following instructions,” he says. “I don’t know if you understand what I’m saying.”

  “I do understand. I’m not allowed to stand out front anymore, and—”

  “And I told you to stay still,” he growls. “How can I take you properly if you’re all over the place? Tell me how.”

  “It could be difficult.” I lay still in his grasp and press my lips together.

  He nods with approval. “That’s better. But there’s still another thing you’ve got to learn.” He climbs onto the bed and positions himself over me, green eyes searching my face. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

  “I’m ready,” I plead. I need it—need him, need a release, need everything.

  “I’m going to teach you what it’s like to be fucked by a real man.”

  “Don’t make me wait,” I beg.

  Luke shakes his head. “You lured me here,” he says. “Lured me with that damn bikini. Don’t do that again,” he warns, even as he moves his hips so that the thick head of his cock teases my entrance. “Do you hear?”

  “Y—yes.” I rock my hips from side to side, trying to pull him in, but he’s a solid wall of muscle and he holds himself back. “Why are you torturing me like this?”

  “Torture,” he says with a laugh. “This isn’t torture.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “I’ll show you. Just as soon as I make you mine.”

  I hardly have time to bask in those words before Luke thrusts in, taking me in one single, powerful movement. It forces a gasp from my lips. Of course it does—he’s huge. He fills me to the brim and then some, and when his hips make contact with my clit, I crash into my first orgasm without warning. “Oh—oh, God—” My hands scrabble at his back and I dig my nails into his skin. Luke braces himself over me, his muscled arms working as he moves inside me. The impact rocks me with every single thrust.

  He bottoms out.

  He takes all the available room, stretching me to accommodate him, and the rhythm is exactly what I’ve been searching for all these years. Another orgasm starts to build. Sweet Lord, this went farther than I thought it’d go. Luke’s calloused hands are everywhere, playing a fucking symphony across my skin. He pins my hips, he rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he lowers his head to drag his tongue across my collarbone.

  He overwhelms me with his presence. There is nowhere that isn’t Luke Rider.

  I careen into my second release, and this time it drags a groan from his lips. He seems to get even bigger inside me, if that’s possible, and then his hands are hard on my hips, forcing me down into the bed. He fucks me right through his own release, one relentless thrust after another.

  My heart might beat out of my chest.

  “God damn, Isabel,” Luke says, resting his head against my shoulder, catching his breath.

  That’s when the doorbell rings.

  9

  Luke

  Isabel giggles, then claps her hand over her mouth. Her blonde hair is a wreck. “Who’s that?”

  “No earthly idea.” Whoever it is deserves some knuckles to the teeth for interrupting this moment. I untangle myself from her dewy skin and stand next to the bed, searching out my underwear on the floor. Isabel crawls to the head of the bed and slips in between the covers. “What are you doing?”

  “What are you doing?” Her cheeks are rosy, satisfied. “Stay in bed with me.”

  I want to stay in bed with her, but I’m not the kind to ignore customers or friends, even if I’m pissed as hell at them for dragging me away from this woman. “I can’t. I’ll be right back.”

  “You think it’s somebody for a tour?”

  I give her a look. “Wouldn’t be
surprised, given your little show. Had to have been pretty popular.”

  “You’re welcome,” Isabel says with a smile. She falls back against the pillows with a grin, hair spreading out across the white pillowcase. “Hurry back.”

  I tug my shirt over my head and take my boxers with me into the bathroom down the hall. Hell, if they leave while I’m freshening up, then so be it. I need a minute to let my heart stop pounding. I just fucked Isabel Prescott. On my bed. To teach her a lesson. This is not how I thought today would go.

  The doorbell rings again in a crazed rhythm, and then there’s a steady pound on the wood. I hear a muffled voice and my stomach drops to the floor. It sounds an awful lot like Cy.

  I hurry, pulling on the boxers and running back into the bedroom. My pants are in a crumpled pile on the floor, and Isabel watches, eyes wide, as I snatch them up. “Get up,” I tell her. “Get dressed. I think your brother’s here.”

  Instead of getting up, she shrinks beneath the covers. “Are you sure? It might be someone else—”

  “Isabel, get out of the bed and get dressed.” Cy’s the type of friend who might just walk in, and if he walks in and finds me like this with his sister—well, shit. I might not be in any shape to take people on tours.

  She finally moves, throwing her legs over the side of the bed. With a few graceful steps, she comes around to the foot of the bed and bends in front of me.

  “Get dressed,” I tell her, trying to be firm about it, but my cock is already hard at the sight of her.

  Isabel straightens up and turns back toward me to put her bikini bottoms back on. “This better?”

  “No,” I say hoarsely. “I’ve got to answer the door before he barges in.”

  Isabel’s smile falters. “Oh, no.”

  I’m already at the door, and I put a hand on the frame to stop myself. “Oh, no what?”