“Don’t get mad.”
He fucking hated when women said that because it was guaranteed to blow his top. “Where is it?”
“You had way more room at your place and I knew you’d be staying here this weekend, and we needed the space, so I hoped it wouldn’t be that big of a deal if I moved it into your house. Temporarily.”
“Why would I be mad about that? You’ve already brought some of it in.”
“I don’t know. Most guys get weird about their latest squeeze infringing on their space.”
“I’m not most guys, sweetheart.” His gaze hooked hers, silently asking, calling yourself my latest squeeze is insulting to both of us, doncha think?
She turned away to pour herself another cup of coffee.
He let it go. “What’s on the agenda today?”
London snagged a clipboard before she sat. “I’m booked solid but I did leave myself two hours for lunch.”
“What did you and Stitch used to do during breaks?”
That surprised her—almost as if she’d forgotten about him. “We didn’t get breaks at the same time very often. But he always wanted to wander through the crowds. See and be seen.” She shrugged. “As long as I get fed, I don’t care what we do.”
“Need me to hang around the corral and help you out today?”
Another look of surprise. “Why would you wanna do that?”
“It’s gotta beat sitting alone in the camper.”
“Don’t you want to go…?”
“To watch the rodeo contestants and stock contractors? Nope. To the midway? Nope. Go chat up all my great buddies still running the blacktop? Oh, right. Hanging with them guys never was my scene.” Sutton leaned over and tugged on her ponytail. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”
She smiled and stole a kiss. “Looks like. Let’s hit it.”
It should’ve been boring, watching London working horses, conferring with young riders and their parents. But there was such enthusiasm surrounding her, as well as strength and confidence that he couldn’t focus on anything else except her. Wanting her, needing her, taking her.
The instant her break started, he herded her toward the camper. She fumbled with the keys again, but in her defense he did have her body pressed up against the door leaving her little space to maneuver.
“Sutton. What are you doing?”
“I’m about to fuck you right here against your camper door in broad daylight if you don’t get us inside.”
“This door is flimsy. If you wanna fuck me hard, I’d suggest we hit the floor.”
The door flew open. Somehow they managed to get it shut and locked before they were on each other.
And the floor held up just fine.
Afterward, they strolled hand in hand through the exhibitors’ hall. If Sutton would’ve had his way they would’ve spent the last hour of her break alone inside the camper. It bothered him that even after their intimate connection, which London admitted she’d never had with another lover, that she was still on the look-at-my-new-man kick with Stitch.
That’s what you signed on for. Showing her you are the better man is the best way to combat any feelings she might still have for him.
London stopped at a jewelry stand. She chatted with the owner, asking about square footage rental charges, revenue, venue commission percentage kickbacks. All the while Sutton stayed so close behind her he could feel the rumble of her laughter vibrating against his chest.
Finally she said, “Thank you so much for your time.”
As soon as they were out of earshot, Sutton said, “Do you know her?”
“No. But I’m interested in whether running a seasonal jewelry storefront is profitable.”
“You thinking about starting one for the jewelry you’ve been making?”
London stopped and faced him. “Do you think it’s a frivolous venture? A waste of my time and energy?”
He framed her face in his hands. “No. If you love making the jewelry you’ll keep doin’ it regardless if it’s profitable. You’re savvy enough to talk to the people in the trenches before you make any decisions. Sweetheart, that is just smart business. Anyone who tells you otherwise needs their head examined before getting their ass kicked.”
“You are so…”
“What? Don’t leave me hanging here.”
“Surprising. You’re smart, with the perfect mix of raunchy and sweet.”
Sutton leaned forward to graze her lips, tasting her and breathing her in. “Will it scare you off if I admit I’m really crazy about you?”
“No. Will it scare you off if I say I really need you to kiss me right now like you are that crazy about me?”
“C’mere and gimme that mouth.” He deepened the kiss, keeping the passion simmering below the surface.
She kissed him back with the single-minded absorption in the moment he’d come to expect from her. Everything but her faded away.
He had no idea how long they’d been lost in the kiss until he heard a throat clearing behind them.
Reluctantly releasing her lips, he let his hands fall way.
London opened her eyes and stared at him, equally dazed.
“No offense, but you two are kinda blocking the aisle.”
Sutton looked over his shoulder and saw Stitch standing there, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his gaze on London.
His suspicions kicked in. Had London asked him to kiss her like that only because she’d seen Stitch?
Dammit. None of what’d been happening between them was playacting on his side. Was it on hers?
London wrapped her arm around Sutton’s waist and they faced Stitch. “Oh, hey, sorry. We’ll get out of the way.”
“No, no that’s okay. I had a few questions for Sutton anyway, if he’s got time.”
“Gosh, that’d be swell, but we were headed to the midway so I can win my lady a prize.” Sutton leaned forward and confided, “London has this theory that faithful men are as mythical creatures as unicorns, so I’m gonna prove her wrong. And win her the biggest stuffed unicorn I can find as a daily reminder that I am the man she can count on.”
Poor kid looked confused as hell.
Over the course of the weekend, Stitch wore that expression a lot.
Chapter Eleven
The second week that London shared Sutton’s living space was markedly different than the first week.
They spent a large portion of their time naked—in every room in the house. London never knew what to expect from Sutton either in bed or out of it. The first afternoon back from the Henry County Fair, he’d borrowed one of his brother’s horses so they could ride together. Which had been fun, even when she kept an eye on Sutton to make sure he didn’t show off, act all macho and hurt himself—not that the man seemed injured at all. He was in better physical condition than any man she knew. It also meant that she’d met his brothers, who’d been equally shocked to meet her.
Then the following night he’d grilled steaks and they’d sat outside beneath the starry sky and had fallen asleep entwined together on his puffy outdoor chaise lounge.
The one night he’d left her alone because he had mysterious “other commitments” she found herself watching the clock as she crafted eight necklaces, anxious for him to come home. The man had been so impatient to have her he’d practically swept all her beads off the kitchen counter like in one of those romantic movies. But the way he’d fucked her on the counter had been hot and nasty—X-rated—not a romantic thing about it, thank god.
They’d watched TV together. Cooked together. Danced around the house and the patio in the moonlight together. They’d made love in every position imaginable. Sometimes their interludes included kink—London still remembered the high from when he used ice on her after he’d bound her hands and how he’d heated up all the cold spots with his hot mouth. Sometimes their interludes were just hot and fast—new lovers who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Sometimes Sutton woke her up in the middle of the night, l
oving on her with such tenderness she wondered if she’d dreamt it. Which was a real possibility because not one night in the last week had he spent the entire night in her bed.
London continued to work with Dial, but she’d cut the horse’s training sessions short because there wasn’t much more she could do with him. Not that she could tell Sutton that yet. Partly because just after two short weeks she wasn’t ready to close the deal she’d made with him. For one thing, whenever she asked the bulldogger if he’d been cleared to compete, he changed the subject, so she knew he was hiding something. But what? Did it have anything to do with her?
The one wrinkle in their intimacy was Sutton hadn’t invited London to move into his bedroom. If they made love in a bed, it was hers in the guestroom. Even if Sutton fell asleep with her afterward, when she woke in the middle of the night or at dawn, the man was gone. That didn’t mean he’d just crashed in his bed. No. That meant gone—she couldn’t find the man in his house.
She hadn’t tried to track him down, figuring if he needed time alone outside or wherever, then it wasn’t her place to disturb him.
In the last day he’d become restless, but in a brooding manner. London suspected mindless chattering would get on his nerves so she…did exactly that. Jabbered on and on until he’d threatened to gag her. She’d retorted if he gagged her, he’d better plan on spanking her too.
That’s how she ended up gagged with her own thong, her hands roped up with pigging string, bent over the back of the couch as Sutton whacked her bare ass until she came. Twice. Then he replaced the gag with his cock and she’d sucked him off, loving the sharp sting as he pulled her hair, which countered the gentle caress of his thumb on her jaw as he released in her mouth.
Afterward, he’d carried her to her bed and spooned her. She’d soothed him, but he still wasn’t quite himself.
Right before she dozed off, she murmured, “Sutton, baby, you know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know. I just…can’t. Not yet.”
When she’d awoken in the morning, Sutton was gone.
As the weekend loomed, she didn’t give a damn if they ran into Stitch and Paige or not. After being with Sutton, she knew even if Stitch came crawling back on his hands and knees she wouldn’t take him back. She didn’t want him. Hell, she’d never wanted him like she wanted Sutton. So any time Sutton asked about a specific plan to make Stitch jealous, she changed the subject.
Tit for tat, my man. You tell me what you’re hiding and I’ll admit you ruined me for all other men and I’m milking the training in the hopes you’ll fall for me as hard as I’ve fallen for you.
These late nights were killing him.
Sutton had agreed to help out his family by haying the field closest to his house. Cutting and baling was tedious work and left him more tired than if he’d run a marathon.
But he couldn’t say no to his brothers—they’d pulled his ass out of the fire plenty of times. He couldn’t say no to London—being with her was always the high point of his day. So the only time he had to practice the shooting requirements was after normal people went to bed. Add in the practice written tests, which weren’t as easy as Ramsey claimed, and he’d been skating by on two hours of sleep a night.
Since last weekend’s county fair was only forty-five minutes from his place, London decided to make the drive to her clinics every day rather than stay overnight.
Sutton had breathed a huge sigh of relief because it gave him the extra time he needed to study and prepare for the range master test. It also indicated that London had moved on for real in the make-Stitch-jealous game.
They’d entered the third week of their deal, trade—whatever it was. If he could make it through the next ten days, he’d be golden. Hopefully he’d pass the test, then he could come clean to London and his family about his future career plans and settle into a real relationship with his hot-blooded horse trainer. She’d seemed a little distant the past couple of days.
He’d managed to get two hours of dead-to-the-world sleep. Upon waking, he crept into the guest bedroom, intent on putting his wide-awake state to good use—waking London up with his face between her thighs. Nothing revved his engines like sucking down her sweet juice first thing in the morning.
The first time she came, she’d arched so hard against his mouth that his teeth had pressed into her delicate tissues. The tiny bite of pain had her fingers gripping his hair as the orgasm pulsed through her. Then he’d instructed her to grab onto the headboard and hold on.
The wait for orgasm number two, when she couldn’t direct him at all, was much longer. Sutton took his time exploring her reactions. Suckling just her pussy lips. Jamming his tongue into her hole. Lightly flicking the skin surrounding her swollen clit but avoiding direct contact with the pulsing bundle. Slipping two fingers into her wet cunt, he spread her open and feasted until she begged him to let her come. When he relented and focused entirely on her clit, London’s body quivered and she’d screamed her release.
Her pussy walls were still pulsating when he rammed his cock in deep. He paused for a moment, watching the sunbeams fall across her face. Probably, he should’ve made love to her with a gentle wake up.
But Sutton was too far gone. “The Saint” that London teasingly called him was still sawing logs; his beast was ravenous for a hard morning fuck. The headboard banged into the wall as he relentlessly hammered into her, sweat dripping into his eyes, his jaw tightened in anticipation with every stroke into that tight, wet heat. His fingers curled over hers on the brass bars, the backs of her thighs pressed against his chest. Her calves on his shoulders provided extra resistance as he drove his cock into her over and over.
After he’d spent himself—physically and emotionally—he unhooked their hands from the headboard and placed a soft kiss on each of her anklebones, then slowly lowered her legs to the mattress. He planted more kisses up the center of her body. Looming over her, he pecked her once on the lips. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Helluva way to start the day, bulldogger,” she said with a satisfied feminine sigh. Her fingertips scraped the stubble on his cheeks. “I like the way this feels on the inside of my thighs.”
When she kept petting him but didn’t speak, he said, “Something wrong?”
“No. I was just happily surprised to have you in my bed this morning.”
Sutton suspected this question would come up. He wasn’t sure how to answer it. “We shared a bed in the camper for two nights on two different weekends.” And it’d killed his back.
“But we didn’t get much sleep. Oh. Now I get it. That’s why we’re in separate bedrooms? So you’re not tempted to fuck me all the time and we can rest between rounds to keep it hot and exciting?”
“Smartass.”
Her eyes clouded. “Why don’t you want to sleep in the same bed with me? Do I snore? Did I fart?”
“Why’re you taking the blame?” He kissed the frown line between her eyes. “I don’t wanna fight with you. It’s not a big deal that our sleep patterns don’t mesh.”
London slid out from beneath him and perched on the edge of the bed. “You’re right. It’s not a big deal. And it won’t matter tonight because I won’t be here.”
“What? Why not?”
She stood and slipped on her nightgown. “Commuting from here will work most days, just not today.”
Sutton studied her. Something else was going on with her. “And tomorrow? Are you coming back here before we head to the Jackson County Fair?”
London fiddled with the bow on her nightgown strap. “We’ll see.”
The idea of her not being here, not talking to her, not touching her, kicked him into sort of a red rage. She was not inserting herself into his life so completely, making him fall for her, and then just walking away, leaving him so crazy about her that he’d do anything to keep her.
Anything except telling her the truth.
He yanked his sweatpants on and pulled his T-shirt over his head. “We’re
not doin’ this.”
“Not doing what? Being honest with each other? You’re the one who’s keeping to himself. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sneaking off and trying to rope and ride in the middle of the damn night. But since I haven’t seen you out in the barn at all in the last weeks since I started working with Dial, I know that’s not where you’ve been keeping yourself.
Sutton hesitated all of ten seconds. “You really wanna see what I’ve been up to and where I’ve been?”
“Yes!”
“It’ll change things between us.”
London cocked a hand on her hip. “Some things need to change between us, Sutton.”
“Fine.” He snagged her hand. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
They stopped in front of the door at the far end of the hall. He opened the little box next to the doorframe that looked like a thermostat and punched in a code. The locks disengaged and he turned the door handle.
“After you.”
London said nothing as she ducked inside.
After the door shut and latched behind them, he flipped on the main lights and led her down the stairs, keeping his back to her.
The space had been completely finished. Textured walls, acoustic ceiling, tile flooring, a built-in gun vault, locking cabinets for ammo. Tall benches lined the walls with a pegboard between the bench and the cabinets. The corner held a reloading station.
Sutton loved the absolute silence in his hidey hole. Once that upper door closed, he was vacuum-sealed in. The apocalypse could happen above him and he’d be oblivious. For that reason, so he didn’t venture into “survivalist” territory, he didn’t keep so much as a can of soda down here, say nothing of cases of weanies and beans and plastic jugs of water.
The actual range had been built from huge circular sections of concrete culverts. The targeting system was on an electronic pulley that ran along the top and bottom, allowing him to change the size, angle, and the distance of the practice targets with the push of a button.
It’d been an unconventional choice, foregoing a traditional basement family room, but he never regretted creating this for himself.
Roped In: A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella (1001 Dark Nights) Page 10
