A Cowboy's Charm

by Brandi Michaels

  She didn’t answer but headed out of the kitchen, down the hall and up the stairs. Rylan followed a few steps behind her and she knew he intended to follow through with his plan for a shared shower. The thought made her breasts tighten and her pussy clench in anticipation. She’d never been totally naked with a man in a shower. The idea quickly blossomed into escalating desire.

  She would have relished a chance to check out her old bedroom but as soon as they stepped into the room Rylan slammed the door and reached for her.

  “You can’t possibly want to make love again,” she argued as he twisted her around to face him.

  “Wrong,” he insisted flatly. His expression taut, he jerked the knot out of her shirt and stripped it off. “Rylan!” she protested.

  “I want you naked.”

  The raw hunger in his expression halted any further thoughts of refusing him. Without breaking eye contact she unclipped her bra and let it drop to the floor. He grabbed her shorts and panties, shoving them over her hips. She stepped out of them and reached for his shirt. In another few seconds they were both naked. Their breathing grew heavier as they slowly studied each other. Callie put a tentative hand on his chest, running her fingers through the swirling golden hair. His body was sun-bronzed except for a strip of pale skin across his groin. She marveled at the readiness of his broad cock. As she watched, it burgeoned to thickness, the bulbous head purple and gleaming.

  Her mouth went dry. Her breathing shallowed. Her pussy wept. When her gaze slid back up to his eyes they were watching her intently.

  “Want me?” he asked thickly.

  A strangled yes whispered past her throat. She desperately wanted him buried inside her. She wanted his hands on her breasts, his tongue deep in her mouth. She wanted it all.

  “I want you from behind this time,” he ground out hoarsely. “But first I want to see your skin glistening with water.”

  He strode to the bathroom, gloriously naked. Callie watched and admired his tight rear end, muscled thighs and long legs as he moved away from her. When he disappeared into the bathroom she followed.

  Rylan had the shower running and was stepping into the tub when she entered the room. He motioned for her to join him but he didn’t touch her once she’d stepped in beside him. Lukewarm water cascaded over her and he handed her a bar of soap.

  “I want to see you wash yourself,” he said.

  Caught in the web of his fantasy, Callie did as he asked. She lathered her hands with soap and then began to bathe herself. Starting with her arms, she slowly smoothed the suds from shoulders to hands and then back again.

  “Your breasts.” His voice went lower and deeper. He commanded and she obeyed. Cupping her breasts in her hands, she massaged the soap over smooth flesh. “Now play with your nipples.”

  She took each nipple between her fingers and plucked at it, causing a different moisture to pool between her legs.

  “Now your pussy.”

  Callie watched Rylan watching her and nearly came at the touch of her own fingers. He was so rigidly tense that he looked ready to snap. His lashes were lowered to hide his eyes but she could still see the heat of primitive hunger flaming out of control. He looked almost wild with need. His eyes had gone dark. His jaws were tight. When she lathered her pubic hair and her breast at the same time, his nostrils flared.

  The next time he spoke his voice was strangled with tension. “Now turn around and bend over for me.”

  She watched him warily for a few long seconds as the water trickled over the tightness of his expression. He looked so hard and fierce that she wasn’t sure she could handle the dark passion she saw in him. Still, she did as he asked and slowly turned her back to him. Then she bent at the waist and opened herself with a vulnerability she’d never allowed another man.

  She felt the touch of his hand first. He’d lathered it with soap and he explored the tiny openings of her body. When Callie felt the light probing of a finger in her anus she caught her breath. She’d never considered anal sex and she wasn’t sure she could handle the width and length of him.

  “Easy, I’m just going to make you feel good,” he whispered gruffly as he continued to probe her. “I’m not going to bury myself here,” he said as he pushed forward. She felt all her muscles clenching around his fingers in part pain and part pleasure. She tensed a little more but dampness gathered between her legs.

  Then she felt his cock prodding her pussy, easing into one opening while he continued to rub her in another. The combined caresses made her gasp and shiver then she reached to the side of the tub and braced herself when her knees threatened to collapse. Rylan reached his other hand to her left breast, teasing the nipple to rigid tightness. He dropped his mouth to the back of her neck and sucked. The combined stimulation had Callie shuddering and begging for more.

  “Rylan, please!”

  “Tell me what you want. Say the words!” he growled near her ear.

  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” she chanted, lost and drowning in sensory overload.

  Hearing the words seemed to snap his considerable control. He pulled his finger from her anus and used both hands to grip her hips. Then he began to pound into her with increasing force, slamming his cock into her until she screamed and screamed as orgasm after orgasm rocked her body. He wasn’t easily sated this time so he pumped himself into her over and over again. Their bodies slapped together until they were both shuddering and with release and weak from exhaustion.

  “You’re never going to forgive me, are you?” she cried breathlessly, knowing that part of his forceful passion stemmed from long-suppressed anger.

  “I have a driving need to punish you,” he confessed on a primal groan. He pounded harder and faster until he found his release. Yelling her name as he came, he poured lava-hot semen into her with one last pulsing thrust.

  Then they both collapsed. Rylan sat down in the tub and drew her down between his legs. She dropped her head to his shoulder and closed her eyes. Water cascaded over them, slowly cooling their bodies as they struggled to regain some strength in their limbs. Finally, after several long minutes, he picked up the bar of soap and bathed them both. As his hands got lost in her pubic hair, Callie tensed. He found her clit and toyed with it until she was breathing roughly again and arching against his fingers.

  “Rylan!” she scolded, spent yet unable to stop her body’s response to his touch.

  “I like to make you come,” he whispered near her ear. “I like to hear you scream my name.” His fingers worked magic and soon she was spiraling toward release again.

  “No more!” she whispered after another shattering orgasm. “No more,” she begged him weakly.

  “You’re going to be here all summer,” he reminded. “We have plenty of time for more. I think I could get used to having hot sex every day, all day long.”

  “I know what happened four years ago, Rylan,” she quietly announced, knowing that would still his taunting. She felt him go stiff.

  “What do you know?” he asked in a wary tone.

  “I know you asked my dad if you could marry me and he said no.”

  After a brief hesitation, he asked, “And do you know why?”

  “Why he refused, why you accepted his decision or why you lied to me about both?” Strength was returning to her limp body. She stood and shut off the shower. Then she stepped from the tub and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her. Keeping her back to him, she continued.

  “He said the ranch was facing bankruptcy after your dad died and he loaned Aunt Molly enough money to save it. Apparently you felt the debt you owed him was more important than a future with me.”

  “None of it matters,” he snapped, climbing from the tub and quickly toweling himself dry. His actions spoke volumes about the sensitivity of the subject. “It all became moot when I found you naked in Brad’s arms.”

  Callie turned and studied his rigidly controlled expression. She wished she knew how much of his lingering anger stemmed from deeper emotion
and how much from damaged pride. How much stemmed from possessiveness or jealousy? Or wounded male ego?

  “You thought I still belonged to you even though you’d cast me aside like some casual summer fling?”

  His eyes blazed and his tone roughened. “You’re the one who swore eternal devotion, remember? You said even if I didn’t want you you’d always love me. That lasted until you’d gone about two days without sex!”

  Anger radiated from every pore of his body. Callie knew she was wasting her time trying to reason with him. She finished drying and turned her back on him again. He’d never believe the truth and she wasn’t at liberty to tell him.

  “It’s all old history. Best forgotten,” she said, her tone flat. “Now we’re both at liberty to enjoy some uncomplicated sex, just like you said. Let’s keep it that way.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied smoothly.

  She watched him stride from the room, her expression bleak. Despite all his talk about making her a sex slave, she had a feeling he wouldn’t willingly touch her again. Her sudden appearance had taken him by surprise and they’d succumbed to some long-denied physical needs but he still resented her. She’d lost his respect and he wasn’t a man who easily forgave.

  It might be a very long, tension-filled summer.

  * * * * *

  Rylan avoided being alone with Callie for the next week. She was helping with household chores, doing most of the cooking and taking an interest in Molly’s garden. That kept her close to the house. He stayed outdoors and worked from daylight to dark. They were civil but kept a safe distance or a lot of people between them. Even though he couldn’t sleep for wanting her lush body, he considered himself lucky to stay out of her clutches.

  His luck ran out the following Friday afternoon. He and Chuck were near the barn, moving a water trough, when she sauntered across the driveway to join them. She was dressed in a snug blue tee shirt and tight-fitting jeans. Neither did much to conceal her shapely figure. As usual, she moved with a slow, long-legged grace that made him as restless as a stallion. His cock stirred in interest.

  “Hi, Callie!” Chuck greeted warmly. His brothers had accepted her into the household with pleasure. “Did you come out here to help?”

  Her gaze met his with just a touch of defiance and Rylan steeled himself. He could tell she’d decided she didn’t want to be avoided any longer. She was restless and ready to cause trouble.

  “What exactly are you doing?” she asked, directing her gaze to Chuck.

  “This water trough sprung a leak so we had to spot-weld a patch on it. I’m gonna fill it to make sure it’ll hold water.”

  Rylan took off his hat, ran a cooling hand over his damp hair then replaced his hat. “I think you can manage to fill the tank all by yourself,” he told his brother.

  Chuck gave him a broad grin. He’d already connected the hose and started filling the tank. “If Callie wants to help I can always find something else to do.”

  “I’ll bet,” said Rylan. The sun was high, the day was hot and Chuck wanted to go swimming with his girlfriend Jessie. He had permission to leave as soon as they’d finished with the trough.

  “I don’t mind helping,” Callie insisted. “I’ve exhausted all the chores near the house but I figured you could always use help.”

  She was right but Rylan didn’t want to accept her offer. He didn’t need the constant temptation. The best way to discourage her would be to give her the hottest, dirtiest chore he had yet he didn’t really want her mucking stalls with him in the barn. He thought of another hot, stinky job to test her mettle.

  “The old storage shed needs cleaning.”

  Rylan saw Chuck’s quick, surprised glance in his direction but ignored it. Callie noticed the exchange and her expression grew suspicious yet she didn’t back down. She glanced toward the shed behind the house then crossed her arms over her chest and eyed him warily.

  “What exactly needs to be done?”

  “It needs the trash cleared out of it. Mostly a collection of old newspapers and aluminum cans, nothing heavy. No spit-shine, just a little cleaning.”

  She held his gaze a few seconds longer and then turned toward the house. Rylan watched the sassy sway of her backside until his stomach muscles clenched. He clenched his teeth and shifted his gaze to Chuck.

  His brother was shaking his head from side to side. “Boy are you in for it if she meets up with the residents of that shed,” he insisted with a grin. “She’ll be hoppin’ mad.”

  Rylan watched as Callie went into the house then came back out with a broom, dustpan and trash bags. She headed toward the shed a few hundred feet across the drive from him. He glanced at Chuck and returned his brother’s grin.

  “Think she’ll have a run in with old mama skunk and her family?” he asked.

  Nobody had been near the shed since the polecats took up residence last winter. They needed to be relocated but he and Brad hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

  “No doubt about it,” offered Chuck.

  They were momentarily distracted as Brad’s truck pulled in the drive and stopped a few feet from them. He shut off the engine and climbed from the cab. They exchanged a little news about his workday and finished filling the trough.

  Then they heard Callie scream. Brad started in the direction of her voice but Rylan grabbed his arm. “She’s all right,” he insisted.

  Callie let out another ear-splitting scream. There was no doubting the cause was temper, not fear.

  “She just met mama skunk and her brood.”

  Brad’s eyes flicked back and forth between his brothers’ grinning expressions. It didn’t take a genius to figure what they were up to. The tension eased from him and a matching grin split his face.

  All three of them turned to watch Callie stomping angrily toward them across the driveway. Her eyes blazed with fury and every last bit of it was directed straight at Rylan.

  “You low down dirty dog!” she yelled. “You knew that shed was full of skunks!”

  When she was close enough for them to get a whiff of her, Rylan and Brad took a couple steps backward, moving closer to Chuck and the water trough. Callie stood her ground and continued to glare at Rylan.

  “You don’t smell too good,” Brad commented. “Mama must not have been the only one that let loose some spray.”

  Callie speared him with a black glance and then turned her fury back on Rylan. Propping her fists on her hips, she continued to rail him.

  “That was a totally vile, despicable thing to do!” she hissed. “I can’t believe you set me up like that. You disgusting ingrate!”

  “You said you wanted to help,” he reminded, battling to keep his tone bland.

  “Pig!” she snapped.

  “I’d watch who you’re calling pig,” he taunted. “You don’t smell too great yourself.”

  To add insult to injury, they all convulsed into laughter. Rylan watched as her temper soared a few degrees higher. Her cheeks were stained with hot color, her eyes blazing with the threat of retribution. Her hair was a wild tangle of curls, she was shaking with righteous indignation and he’d never seen her look more gloriously beautiful.

  “Too bad if you don’t like the way I smell,” she snapped, moving closer.

  Rylan threw out a hand to ward her off, laughing harder than he had in years. Brad and Chuck were doubled over with laughter. He could tell it made her even more furious. He continued to watch her through watery eyes and noted the change in her expression, the instant she decided how to get back at him. Excitement and exhilaration whipped through his body. His balls tightened and his cock pulsed with anticipation.

  “I’ll be glad to get rid of the stink too.” She slowly reached down to pull off a shoe. “These clothes are totally ruined.”

  Without warning she hurled the shoe at Rylan’s head. He dodged as it whizzed past his ear. Then he and Brad ducked as she aimed the other in their direction. All she accomplished was making them laugh harder.

  Next she
pulled off both her socks and folded them into a ball. He dodged when she wound up for a throw. She balked and then let her missile fly, faking him out and knocking his hat off his head.

  “Take that, you jerk!” she snapped. “I’ll never be able to use any of these clothes again! And these were my favorite jeans!”

  The men roared and Callie’s expression promised retribution. She stood perfectly still for a few minutes, hands propped on her hips, until their laughter calmed to chuckles. Then the gleam in her eyes issued a different warning. Rylan watched, intrigued, as one of her hands slid slowly toward the waistband of her jeans and flicked the snap.

  “I can’t even wear them into the house they smell so rotten,” she insisted, her voice taking on a whole new note of defiance.

  Determination glittered in her eyes. His gaze dropped to where her fingers were steadily sliding down the zipper of her jeans, tooth by tooth. His libido kicked into high gear and suddenly their exchange became more personal, more intimate. He didn’t figure she needed any more of an audience.

  Without taking his gaze from her, he threw an order at Chuck. “Go swimming.”

  “Aw, Rylan,” the younger boy groused.

  “Now!”

  His brother obeyed but not without a parting shot of disgust. Rylan ignored him and sent a glance of dismissal at Brad. The battle between him and Callie was about to turn real personal.

  “The hell.” His brother crossed his arms over his chest and refused to budge.

  Callie did a great imitation of a stripper as she slowly wiggled her hips and then each leg from the denim. Rylan’s body tightened even more at the sight of each long, sleek limb. The tiny blue thong panties she revealed had his temperature soaring and his cock at full staff.

  “Not so funny now, big guy?” she taunted, then tossed the jeans in his direction. They didn’t make a direct hit but they landed with a thud and stirred up the dust at his feet.

  “Ready to apologize for being such an ungrateful swine?” she challenged.

  Rylan couldn’t contain the grin that creased his face. “Tomato juice is supposed to help get rid of the stench,” he taunted.