Blazing Bedtime Stories, Volume VIII: The Cowboy Who Never Grew UpHooked
Page 7
Rightly so. He’d made a fortune playing PBR’s wild child. He’d be crazy to stop now.
Wendy, however, liked seeing the grown-up version. She liked it way too much.
She took another bite of biscuit and tried to ignore the truth blaring inside her head. Pete Gunner had changed his mind about their deal.
She didn’t blame him. She’d seen all those women tonight. Buckle bunnies with their long legs. And fake boobs. And bottled tans. The place had brimmed with them and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Pete had finally come to his senses. Why would he lust after a woman like her when he could have his pick?
He wouldn’t. Maybe that bull hadn’t just battered his shoulder. Maybe he’d suffered a concussion and he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He was back to his old self now. As bold and as bad as ever.
Thankfully.
That’s what she told herself. Sex would only complicate their working relationship. At the same time, she couldn’t deny the frustration brimming inside her and the all-important truth that she’d wanted him to come running back for another dance, another kiss and more. Much more.
She popped a bite into her mouth, the gooey sweetness oozing over her fingers. Sliding a fingertip into her mouth, she licked the honey and went for another bite just as she heard the footsteps behind her.
She turned to find Pete standing there. He’d shed his Western shirt and wore just a white T-shirt that outlined his broad chest and clung to his muscular biceps. Faded jeans cupped his crotch and molded to his thighs. His whiskey-blond hair curled down around his neck. A five-o’-clock shadow covered his jaw.
She found herself suddenly desperate to feel the stubble chafing against her cheek, and lower, down the slope of her neck, the rise of her breasts, her nipples, the tender insides of her thighs….
She got to her feet, ready to make a quick retreat inside the house before her hormones got the best of her. He’d already made it painfully clear that he’d changed his mind tonight. No reason to make a fool of herself and beg.
She drew a deep breath and tried for a calm tone. “I figured you’d be at the bonfire by now.” Trucks roared in the distance and music blared.
“A deal’s a deal, sugar.” And then he closed the distance between them and reached for her.
8
HE BACKED HER TOWARD the table, a dark, desperate gleam in his gaze. “This is all about sex, right?”
“Definitely.”
“We’re not dating.” He said the words as if his life depended on them.
She shook her head. “I would never date a man like you.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He gripped her by the waist and sat her atop the picnic table.
“What are you doing?” she asked when he reached for the buttons on her blouse and started sliding them free.
“What I should have done the minute you said yes.” He pushed the shirt over her shoulders and down her arms. His fingers went to the clasp of her bra and she spilled free. The cool night air whispered over her bare skin and her breasts throbbed.
“Here?”
“Right here.” He stared deep into her eyes. “Right now.” His gaze dropped to her bare breasts. “You have the most incredible nipples I’ve ever seen.” There was no missing the admiration in his gaze, the appreciation, the want.
At that moment, she stopped worrying that someone might happen upon them or that she wasn’t the type of girl to strip down buck-naked on a picnic table. She didn’t care. She simply wanted him. His hands everywhere. His mouth on her. Now.
“I wanted to peel off your clothes and touch your nipples so bad earlier tonight, and I wanted to taste them. I really wanted to taste them.”
Before she could drag in a breath, he dipped his head and drew one sensitive peak into his mouth.
He sucked her so hard and so thoroughly that it was all she could do to keep from sagging against him. Wetness flooded the sensitive flesh between her legs and drenched her panties. He drew on her harder, his jaw creating a powerful tugging that she felt clear to her core.
An echoing throb started in her belly, more intense with every rasp of his tongue, every nibble of his teeth, every pull of his sinful lips.
Heat flowered through her, pulsing along her nerve endings, heating her body until she felt as if she would explode.
He didn’t touch her with his hands, just his mouth, working at her until she moaned long and low and deep in her throat. Her nipple was red and swollen and throbbing when he finally released her to lick a path to the other breast. The tip of his tongue rasped her ultra-sensitive flesh. Goose bumps chased up and down her arms. The hair on the back of her neck prickled.
“Please,” she murmured, and he gladly obliged, seizing the other nipple and delivering the same delicious torture. Pull and nibble. Pull and nibble. Pull and...
Ahhh...
She grew wetter and hotter, her body throbbing with each movement of his mouth as he worked her, pushing her closer to the edge, to a mind-blowing orgasm.
She opened her mouth to tell him to stop. It was bad enough that she wasn’t nearly as experienced as he was. She wasn’t spouting like Old Faithful and proving it beyond a doubt. But then his mouth was on hers, swallowing her words, his hot fingers rolling and plucking her damp nipple, and all thought flew south to the wet heat saturating her panties and the steady, frenzied throbbing between her legs.
He pulled her flush against him, his hands trailing down her bare back, stirring every nerve ending along the way. Fingers played at her waistband before grasping the edge of her skirt and pushing it up higher until his palms cupped her bare buttocks. He urged her forward, pushing her legs open wider and pulling her tight against him until her pelvis cradled the massive erection straining beneath his zipper.
The feel of him sent a burst of longing through her and suddenly she couldn’t get close enough. She grasped his shoulders, clutching at his T-shirt as she wrapped one leg around his thigh to fit herself more snugly against him. She kissed him with all of the passion that had built over the past few hours.
Her tongue danced with his and she sucked, drawing him deeper, wanting more yet not getting enough. When he tore his lips from hers, a whisper slipped past her swollen lips.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please. I don’t know what I’ll do if you stop.” She was pathetic, she knew. Not a one of the hot blondes that had attended his party would have stooped to such a level.
They didn’t have to.
She waited for his infamous grin, that teasing light in his eyes. Instead, his gaze darkened to a stormy blue.
“I’m not going to stop.” Conviction rang in his voice and her chest tightened.
His fingers went to the button on her skirt. The waistband eased and he peeled the material down her legs. His fingers snagged on her panties and urged them down, as well. Until she sat completely naked.
He urged her lips apart in another deep, mind-blowing kiss as he lifted her. He wrapped her legs around his waist, his denim-covered erection flush against the sensitive folds between her legs.
The sudden contact drew a gasp from her lips. She grasped his shoulders and shimmied against him. The friction of the rough material against her clitoris worked her into a frenzy, until she couldn’t take any more. She threw her head back as a deep, pleasure-filled moan vibrated up her throat. Delicious tremors rocked her body.
“Holy hell, you’re beautiful.”
She heard his deep, raw voice through the thunder of her own heart and his words sent a rush of joy through her. She didn’t stop to tell herself she was imagining things or that they were all wrong for each other or that she shouldn’t be falling for him when she’d promised herself not to. Instead she concentrated on the sincerity in his voice and let it feed the satisfaction gripping her body.
She was so lost in the throes of her orgasm that she didn’t even notice that he’d carried her inside the house, up the stairs and into his bedroom until she f
elt the soft mattress at her back.
She glanced up in time to see him peel off his shirt and unfasten his jeans. He shoved the denim and his white briefs down in one smooth motion. His erection sprang forward, huge and greedy. A white drop of pearly liquid beaded on the ripe purple head and slid down the side. She couldn’t help herself.
She reached out and caught the drop on her fingertip. She touched the moisture to her lips and tasted the salty sweetness before dipping her head and taking a lick.
He groaned at the sight of her lush lips brushing the length of his cock. He gripped her silky hair, guiding her as she pleasured him for a few heart-pounding moments. But where a soft warm mouth would have been enough in the past, it wasn’t enough now because this wasn’t just a nameless, faceless woman who’d popped up in his bed. This was Wendy and he wanted to give as good as he was getting. Better, in fact. Not because he had an image to protect, but because he wanted to see her come apart in his arms. He wanted to feel it. To savor it.
He gripped her shoulders and urged her to stop. Leaning over, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom. He smoothed it over his throbbing length in one deft motion, and then he leaned over her, pushing her into the mattress as he urged her legs apart and settled himself between her trembling thighs.
He kissed her then, licking her lips and sucking at her tongue, tasting the ripe flavor of sex and loving it because it was his.
She was his.
The thought struck, echoing in his head as he drove into her with one powerful thrust.
She was tight, grasping the full length of him with enough force to make him groan.
He lay still for a moment. “You feel so damned good. So tight and wet and hot.”
“You feel good, too. So big and hot and hard.” She couldn’t believe she’d said such words, but she couldn’t help herself. With his voice so deep and stirring in her ears, Wendy felt her control melt away. She stopped worrying about the past or the future and simply lived in the moment.
She slid her arms around his neck and arched into him, determined to get closer and savor every moment: the weight of his body between her legs, the tickle of his hair against her most sensitive spot, the weight of his testicles resting between her thighs.
He spread her legs even farther apart and pushed deeper for a split second before withdrawing. The movement was slow and tantalizing, and a wave of pleasure swamped her. He stopped just shy of pulling out, the head of his penis pulsing inside her.
Before she could draw her next breath, he thrust deep again, sending a burst of heat through her and making her nerves sizzle.
He pumped faster with each thrust, driving her toward an orgasm while he worked toward his own. She clutched at him, raking her nails down the length of his back, grasping his buttocks, pulling him deeper as she lifted her pelvis to meet each of his movements. She couldn’t feel him deep enough or hard enough or fast enough....
Her climax built, bucking her up and jerking her back down like the wildest rodeo bull. Up and down, higher and higher, faster and faster, until she finally reached the last second. The buzzer sounded and she went flying off into the air. Her heart pounded. Her blood rushed. Her body sang with exhilaration.
She cried out and felt him stiffen. She opened her eyes just in time to see him poised above her. His entire body tensed as he threw his head back, his teeth clenched. Every muscle tightened and bulged as he reached the pinnacle of his own wild ride. He exploded in a loud groan that echoed in her ears.
He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him without breaking their contact. His heart pounded against her own and his breaths came sharp and ragged.
Wendy rested her cheek in the curve of his neck and fought for a calming breath. She needed to gather her wits, to think.
Impossible with him so close.
She could only feel. The tickle of his hair against her chafed nipples, the hot slickness of his thigh on the inside of her own, the length of his penis nestled in her sensitive folds. He was still semi-hard. The large, smooth head twitched and pulsed with each of his deep, shuddering breaths.
Gathering her courage, she propped her head up on her elbow and stared at him. “There’s nothing wrong with slowing down,” she finally said, her voice quiet. “If you’re tired, take a break. Quit. Cowboys do it all the time.”
“I don’t need a break and I sure as hell don’t quit.” Pete didn’t mean to snap, but leave it to Wendy to ruin a perfectly good mood by calling him out on something.
His mother had been a quitter. She’d given up on herself and left her sons to raise themselves.
He never quit. Not when he’d been so poor that all they’d had to eat was bologna sandwiches. He’d kept going, struggling, fighting.
He wasn’t quitting now.
Even if he wanted to.
He frowned. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
“Never.”
“Well, they were just being nice because you do. You talk way too much.” And then he tucked her up against him and closed his eyes. And for the first time in a helluva long time, Pete Gunner fell right to sleep.
9
“I’M GOING TO OVERNIGHT three sets of contracts so you’re covered for any future mishaps first thing tomorrow morning. They should be there bright and early Tuesday,” Lisa told Wendy on Sunday morning.
“Thanks, Lisa.”
“No problem. I still can’t believe they got messed up again.”
“Me, neither. What did you tell Fred about the delay?”
“Exactly what you told me. Gunner wanted to sit down with his lawyer, who wasn’t available until Tuesday morning to go over the contract line by line as a formality. By Tuesday afternoon, you’ll have his signature on the dotted line and we’ll have Pete in the studio bright and early a week from today for the first commercial shoot.” Her voice grew quiet. “Are you sure you can pull this off?”
“Are you kidding? It’s practically done.” Not. They hadn’t spent the past night just having sex. They’d also talked—her idea, not his—and she’d come to realize how important his career was to him. Bull riding and all that went with it—the reputation, the attitude, the control—had saved him from his past, just as settling down had saved her. “He’ll sign. I’m sure of it.” Or so she hoped.
“At least one of us is having some luck with men,” Lisa grumbled.
“What happened to Mike?”
“He moved on to greener pastures.”
“Don’t tell me you dumped him, like all the others, because he wanted to get serious.”
“He dumped me because I wanted to get serious. I really think he’s the one.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“What? A girl can’t fall in love?”
But Lisa wasn’t just any girl. She was a serial-dater. Playing the field. Avoiding commitment. Just like Wendy’s father. “You never fall in love,” Wendy said accusingly. “Not in twenty-eight relationships.” Because it just wasn’t possible for a leopard to change its spots. Her father had had plenty of chances, plenty of women who’d offered him everything, but he’d turned down all of them because he was incapable of settling down.
Or maybe he just hadn’t found the right one.
The notion stuck in her head as Lisa went on, “I’ve actually had thirty-one guys if you count the cashier at the dry cleaners, the bartender down in Cabo and my massage therapist, and, no, I didn’t fall in love with any of them. I fell in love with Mike. Don’t ask me how or why. I just know I love him and so I told him so. He ran. I should have expected it. It’s karma coming back to bite me in the ass.”
Wendy was still marveling over Lisa’s change of heart when she climbed out of the bed a few minutes later to search for her clothes.
She’d opened her eyes to find the bed completely empty about fifteen minutes ago. No trace of the man who’d loved her within an inch of her life for the past thirty-two hours. If she hadn’t had such delicious aches in all the
right places, she would have sworn she’d dreamed the past night.
It had been too perfect. Too wonderful. Too right.
And now it was over.
She knew it even before Eli found her on the front porch a half hour later, a coffee cup in her hand.
“Are you ready, Miz Wendy?”
“For what?”
“Pete told me to take you into town.”
The words were like a vise sliding around her heart and squeezing tight. Not that her heart was involved in this. Last night had been purely physical. A one-night stand. And while she’d never actually had a one-night stand, she was a grown woman who could handle herself accordingly. They’d had a great time together, end of story. No sense dragging it out or letting her feelings get involved.
But this wasn’t about feelings. It was about her future. Her job. “If Pete Gunner thinks he’s getting rid of me that easy, he’s got another think coming. He promised me a signed contract and I’m not going anywhere until I have it in my hand.”
“I wasn’t kicking you out. Since you’re stuck here,” a deep, familiar voice drawled behind her, “I thought you might need some extra clothes. But if you’d rather stick it out in that get-up, be my guest.”
She whirled and found the bluest eyes in Texas staring back at her. He wore a blue-and-white striped work shirt, a pair of jeans and dusty boots. The smell of leather clung to him and she barely resisted the urge to press herself up against him and drink in his scent.
He grinned and her heart melted.
Her heart, of all things.
The realization hit her and every muscle in her body went stiff. An image flashed in her mind and she saw the woman in the pink dress standing on her father’s doorstep. So hopeful and optimistic and in love.
What the hell was she doing?
Falling for Pete Gunner. The truth was there. Blaring in her head. Mocking her. She’d gone and done the unthinkable.
He winked and her heart skipped its next beat. “You didn’t think I was getting rid of you this soon, now did you, sugar?”