Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way)

by Becky McGraw

  “What’s wrong, Ryan? Can’t take your own medicine?” she asked smugly.

  Ryan’s body went rigid, his jaw worked, and he ground his teeth. A fierce roar erupted from his throat, and his hands appeared out of nowhere to grip her hips. He pushed her hips downward as he pistoned his own up into her, burying his cock halfway inside of her body. Twyla lost her breath from the intense stretching burn, and her body throbbed against the invasion. Ryan’s nostrils flared, as he dragged in short, uneven breaths through his nose and exhaled through his mouth. Twyla couldn’t breathe at all, she was too overwhelmed by the shocking pain. Every muscle in her body was clenched.

  Ryan’s thumb rubbed soothing, but irritating circles at her hip. “Relax baby, and just ease on down. I’ll help you,” he begged, his voice raw and ragged.

  Relax? How the hell could she relax? She was impaled on his massive cock, and was afraid to move. Ease on down? There was nothing easy about this. What she had of him hurt like hell. Taking the rest of him would probably rip her in two. No, she’d just stay where she was until she caught her breath and then she’d get up.

  She was done with this. Maybe forever.

  “It won’t hurt anymore, baby. Sit on me, Twyla, I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

  She gasped when his hand eased between her legs. His long fingers gently massaged the nub there, and her breath hitched as her inner muscles miraculously relaxed a little. Her thigh muscles followed, and it was a good thing, because her legs were shaking so badly she thought for sure she’d collapse.

  “Kiss me, Twy,” he encouraged leaning his mouth a little closer to hers, his eyes pleading. Her death grip on the back slats of the chair loosened a little. When she didn’t move closer, he closed the distance between them to meld his lips to hers, making a couple of exploratory passes over her mouth. With each slow rotation he made, each delicious fleeting kiss, she relaxed a little more, and he sank a little deeper inside her body. When she was fully seated on him, had taken all of him, she released a shuddering sigh.

  Pulling his mouth away, Ryan rested his forehead to hers. “So tight, so damned tight,” he groaned. “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah,” she muttered weakly. Now that he was inside of her, it didn’t feel so bad. It actually felt pretty damned good. And now, she was no longer a virgin, and Ryan was her first.

  “I’m sorry it happened this way. So damned sorry. I went about all this the wrong way. We should’ve gone to the bedroom, and I should have gone slower with you.”

  “If you went any slower, we’d have been going backwards,” Twyla replied with a laugh, sitting up straighter to rest her hands on his shoulders. ‘Okay now what? Is this it?”

  If it was, in the morning Twyla would be sorely disappointed along with being sore.

  Ryan’s face relaxed, and he grinned. “Not by a long shot, darlin’,” he replied.

  He leaned her back over his arm, and his head descended to take her left breast into his mouth. He sucked her gently, and Twyla’s inner muscles clenched around him. The tension didn’t inch up inside of her this time, it shot straight to her head to make her dizzy.

  Her breath came in short uneven pants, as he sucked her with a little more pressure, while his other hand moved between them to find her clit. He rolled it between his fingers, teasing that tension even higher. It became rubber band tight inside of her, as lights flashed behind her eyes, her ears rang, and her inner muscles clamped around him.

  Ryan groaned against her skin, but he didn’t let up. He played her body, until those lights converged, the elastic band snapped and then she felt like she was floating above them, looking down on her body shaking in his arms as she made nonsensical noises. The tremors lessened, and Ryan eased her back up, hugging her to his chest, until they ceased. He kissed the side of her hair, then pushed her away. “How do you feel?”

  Twyla gave him a wobbly smile, and grabbed the back of the chair, then put her feet on the floor. Her body itched inside now to feel him moving inside of her. She pushed up, and slowly lowered herself back down. No pain now, just extreme pleasure at the drag and fullness of his cock inside her body. “Like I need to ride,” she said, easing her body up again.

  “Oh, God, Twy—” he moaned, dropping his chin to his chest to make that gurgling sound in his throat that she loved. As she moved her body faster over him, Ryan’s hands dug into her ass, spreading her wider, so she sank lower, took him deeper.

  “That’s it, baby. So fucking good,” he mumbled hoarsely, his fingers digging in even deeper. Twyla clenched her inner muscles as she rose, figuring that would give him extra pleasure. The surprising part was it added to her pleasure too. With each movement, she felt herself getting nearer another climax. The tension built and built, her breathing shallowed right along with his. She knew the signs now, so when she saw the lights, she reached for them, focused. A tremor started in her thighs, then moved up to take over her body. Ryan roared, and Twyla moaned his name reverently as her body vibrated with his.

  Her body melted into his arms, Ryan held her tightly to his chest, kissing her hair and whispering things she couldn’t hear over the pounding of her heart in her ears. His fingers dug into the underside of her thighs and he lifted her. Twyla wrapped her legs around his back, then rested her tired head in the crook of Ryan’s neck, as he carried her to the bedroom.

  .

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Muffled banging and cursing woke Twyla from a dead sleep. She tried to roll over, but couldn’t. She was trapped by a very muscular, lightly furred leg, which was draped over both of hers. It felt like she was cozied up next to a blast furnace. She tried to move Ryan’s leg, without waking him, so she could get up. Twyla felt sure she knew why her roommate was cussing.

  Heather was a neat freak, and they had left the evidence of their hours-long lovemaking session all over the breakfast nook and the kitchen. Their two a.m. midnight snack had turned into a snack of a different kind. They had been so exhausted afterward Twyla just didn’t have the energy to clean up the chocolate syrup and ice cream from the counter. That had made a shower mandatory, and the round in the shower had been so hot, she ended up on her knees, unable to even stand to walk to bed. Ryan had carried her.

  Twyla’s heart melted and flowed right down to her lady parts. She sighed and glanced over at the man snoring softly beside her. He looked so young and carefree, relaxed. The bruise under his eye was fading now, thank goodness. His nose wasn’t swollen any more either. She brought her finger up to the bridge of his nose and skimmed it to the tip. Ryan wiggled his nose and swatted at her hand. Twyla laughed, then traced the fading bruise under his eye. When she reached the corner, that eye popped open and she was skewered by a heated blue-eyed stare.

  Twyla smiled shyly, then traced the seam of his lips with her finger. “Morning.” Ryan, nipped the end of her finger, and she yelped.

  “Don’t you know better than to poke the bear, darlin’?” He shoved his hips forward to press his rock solid erection to the side of her thigh. “He might poke back,” he drawled in a sexy, sleepy voice that did things to her insides. A little thrill zipped down her spine when the fact that she was actually laying here with Ryan sank into her brain.

  “I might like being poked by the bear,” she said and felt her cheeks heat.

  His hand came up and he fingered a strand of her hair. “And the bear might like being woken up, as long as it’s Goldilocks doing the waking.” A loud bang followed by a crash and a salty curse made Ryan flinch. He dropped her hair to massage his temples. “Someone shoeing a mule with ten penny nails out there?”

  Twyla laughed. “Nah, just in your head, baby. I told you not to drink that rotgut.”

  Ryan cut his eyes at her, and groaned. “Told you so, ain’t helping me, baby. I’d do it again in a heartbeat the way you served it.” He tried to smile, but grimaced instead. “But I need some fricking aspirin.”

  With a heavy sigh, Twyla threw her leg over him and rolled to get out o
f bed, but Ryan’s hands landed on her ass to stop her. He ground his hips against her, and smiled. “On second thought, the aspirin can wait. My head is splitting but if I die, I’ll die happy.”

  Twyla liked this playful side of Ryan. A lot. It’s not one she’d seen often in the fourteen or so years she’d known him. If they weren’t arguing, he was usually cut and dry with her, brotherly, when he wasn’t running somewhere. Probably hiding from her. But there wasn’t a damned thing brotherly about what he was grinding against her right now. Molten lava replaced the blood in her veins. “That thing loaded, son?” she asked, circling her hips with him.

  His eyes dilated and his nostrils flared, as the corners of his mouth eased up into a sexy smile. “Loaded for bear, baby,” Ryan growled, as he rolled her under him, pinning her to the mattress with his body, as his mouth covered hers in a scorching kiss. His hand smoothed over her hip and crept between her legs. Twyla’s hips shot up and she moaned into his mouth, dug her nails into his back and rotated her hips in time with his hand. Ryan’s hips ground into her, as he continued driving her mindless with his kiss and his fingers.

  Things heated up very fast, their bodies ground together faster, then suddenly a loud splintering crack broke the sensual spell. Twyla yelped as the bottom came out from under her butt and she was momentarily suspended in thin air, before her body slammed down on the mattress, a foot below where it had been a moment ago. She grunted when Ryan’s body slammed on top of hers, and they bounced together. Their eyes met, and he looked as stunned as she felt.

  “Good Lord, buddy, we broke the bed,” she said in awe, covering her mouth with her hand to suppress a giggle. His look was so comical laughter bubbled in her chest. Twyla couldn’t stop it, so she threw back her head and let it free. After a minute she was beating her fist on the mattress trying to catch her breath. Laughter rumbled in Ryan’s chest too then exploded from him. He rolled onto his back, holding his stomach as it overcame him.

  Loud banging rattled the wooden bedroom door on its hinges. They stopped laughing and their eyes met. “Ut oh, I think we’re in trouble,” Twyla whispered dramatically, then slapped her hand over her mouth to stop another round of giggles.

  “Twyla get your narrow ass out here and help me clean up this mess!” Heather screeched.

  “Be there in a minute,” Twyla yelled back holding her finger over Ryan’s mouth. He nipped the end of her finger, and then sucked it into his mouth and Twyla gasped as heat flooded her body. She yanked it out and hid her hand under her hip.

  “Now, Twyla. This place is a wreck! And was that my grandma’s bed I heard breaking in there?” Twyla pictured her friend standing outside that door with her hand on her curvy hip, tapping her toe like a grandmother would, like her mother used to do. Her tone was very similar and agitation bristled inside of her. Yeah, they’d left the front rooms a wreck, but she had planned to get up and take care of it this morning. She didn’t think Heather would be home so early.

  “I’ll fix it!” Twyla yelled back. “It’s just the bed boards!” And I’ll start looking for a place of my own this afternoon. Heather was awesome for letting her stay here, a great friend and amazing woman, but two women who were so different living together for very long wasn’t going to work.

  “You need your own place,” Ryan said with a sigh, as if reading her mind.

  She looked over at him. “Can’t afford it.” Unless she kept dancing at the Cowgirl.

  “I’ll help you. I have a couple of days before I have to go back.”

  Twyla rolled over and put her hand on his chest. “Ryan, I can’t afford it if I quit the bar. I do need my own place, but to get that I need that job at the bar. Leon and Teddy don’t let the men touch us.” She ran her thumb over his fading bruise. “You know that.”

  His body tensed. “I don’t want you working there. They might not touch, but they sure as hell look, and I don’t like it. I don’t think your family would either.” His eyes narrowed, as he reminded, “You promised you’d quit, so I don’t have to tell them.”

  “Twyla!” Heather yelled again, and Twyla huffed a breath, scooted to the end of the bed and got to her feet.

  With a final glance at Ryan, she grabbed her clothes off of the floor, and hopped into them as she walked to the door. She opened it and the scent of Pine Sol immediately smacked her in the face. Her stomach rolled. God, she hated that stuff, had told Heather it made her nauseous, but Heather seemed to love it in an obsessive kind of way. She absolutely did need her own place, Twyla thought, as she walked into the living room to see Heather in the breakfast nook on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor with a sponge. How the hell she wasn’t passed out from the fumes, Twyla didn’t know.

  “I bought some Mr. Clean, Heather,” Twyla said, as she walked into the nook.

  “Mr. Clean can’t even get these whiskey stains out of my floor. They’re gonna take that out of my deposit, Twyla.” Heather sat back on her heels, breathing hard. She swiped her forearm across her brow, then said, “You said a couple of weeks. It’s been a couple of weeks. You need to find your own place. Teddy told me about a garage apartment over by the bar.”

  “I’m sorry, Heather. Thanks for taking me in for as long as you did. I’ll talk to Teddy tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Ryan said gruffly behind her. Twyla spun around and her mouth flapped when she saw the heat in his face, the anger in his eyes.

  Twyla tried to keep her voice even, but her voice didn’t cooperate. Her frustration was more than obvious when she said, “I have to support myself, Ryan. Now, I have to pay for a place to live. It’s unreasonable for you to ask me to quit my job right now. I have a competition coming up too, so I need to save money for that, buy equipment.”

  “You don’t owe him explanations for how you live your life, Twyla, or any man for that matter,” Heather said stepping to her side. “The man fucked you on my table, and one of the legs is weak now. And on my breakfast bar from the looks of it. Really? It was her first time and that’s the best you could do?” she asked in dismay giving Ryan a once over.

  “Who the hell are you to judge me?’ Ryan said, his fists tightening at his sides. “You’re a damned stripper, and you’ve gotten that same innocent woman into it too.”

  Heather’s left eyebrow raised sky high, she tilted her head to the side to put her hand with the sponge in it on her hip. Twyla knew it was on when Heather didn’t even notice the soapy water dripping down her leg into her boot.

  Ryan was in deep shit, if she didn’t step in.

  Heather might be small, but her tongue could rip a man to shreds at fifty paces, not to mention where she was fond of planting the toe of her cowboy boot when cowboys got fresh with her. She was sweet as pie, until you ruffled her feathers, then there was no telling what would come out of her mouth.

  Twyla stepped in front of Heather to put her hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to talk to Teddy about the apartment right now. I have a thousand bucks,” she said glancing over her shoulder at Ryan, giving him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut. “I’ll buy you another table, and I’ll find someone to come and fix the bed today.”

  “I’ll fix it,” Ryan ground out, pinning Heather with a glare, before swinging his gaze to Twyla. “And I’ll take you to go see about the apartment, and help you find another job.”

  Her overbearing brother was back. The patient and exciting lover from last night who’d taught her the joys of sex, and the playful lover from this morning had both left the building.

  “I don’t need you to fix things for me, Ryan,” Twyla said angrily. “I’ve found out I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, and deciding the best way to do that.”

  “If this is an example of you taking care of yourself,” he said waving his hand expansively around the apartment, finishing with a little dip toward Heather. “I beg to differ with you, and I’m sure your brother would too.”

  Anger pushed Twyla’s heart up to her throat. It lodged there, making it
almost too hard to speak. After last night, she thought things might be different between them, but she was wrong. Dead wrong. Twyla walked over to Ryan and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “Well, it’s a good thing Zack isn’t here, isn’t it?” She poked him in his bare chest with her finger. “And it’s a good thing you won’t be here either. Neither of you will have to see anything.” She poked him again, and he stepped back. “As far as you telling my family? Go ahead, I dare you. I have a few things they’d probably be interested in hearing too.” Twyla winked at him and shoved his shoulder. “Get back to your own business, Ryan. I have things to do today.”

  Ryan’s jaw dropped, and he went to grab her shoulders, but Twyla dodged him. He rounded on her. “Twyla we have things to discuss. What happened last night—”

  “Is over, Ryan. Thanks for a good time,” she said with another wink and a tight smile. “I’m sure those lessons will come in handy in the future for both of us.”

  “Goddammit, Twyla!” he growled in frustration. “You are one hardheaded woman.”

  “Why yes, I am,” Twyla replied in a sing-song tone. She stabbed a finger in his direction. “And you are one hard-hearted cowboy. I guess that makes us even.” With a shake of her head, she turned to walk back to the bedroom and get ready. She had a lot of things to do today, and arguing with Ryan Easter all day long wasn’t getting them done.

  Ryan banged on the bathroom door, until his knuckles were blue. It’s a wonder the damned thing wasn’t in splinters by now he’d knocked so long. He heard the shower running, and Twyla moving around inside, but she wouldn’t answer the damned door. He slammed his palm against the door beside where his head rested.

  “Twyla, please open the door,” he repeated, his voice hoarse from calling her name.

  This was the last time he’d try. Ryan knew he’d be better off beating his head on the door than continuing to try to get her to listen to him. He’d been at this almost an hour now. Since Heather left to go to her dance studio, after they had final heated words that almost ended with a cowboy boot in his crotch. That woman was a pistol, and any man who tried to tame that one had his work cut out for him. Almost as much work as Ryan had for himself with Twyla.