Urban's Rush (Saddles & Second Chances Book 4)

by Rhonda Lee Carver

  “Yeah. You didn’t know?”

  “Well, I did, but they’re filming already?” Dropping the hose to the straw floor, she turned, hands on hips.

  Cheryl crossed her arms. “I-I thought you knew. I saw Urban at the feed store this morning and some woman was with him, followed by a man carrying one of those big cameras. What I heard was they’ve been in town for a few days.”

  Presley forced a smile to her lips, although she wasn’t feeling it much. She was completely out of the loop. She’d been so busy here at the clinic that she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of anyone outside of Cheryl, not even Urban. “You go ahead and check those supplies so you’re not here too late. You have studying to do for the exam. I want you to ace it.”

  “Okay, honey. If you’re sure you don’t need me to stay.”

  “I’m fine. Thank you though.”

  Once alone, she tried to keep her mind off Urban, but she couldn’t seem to think of anything else. The sun started to go down and she busied herself watering the cow and making sure she had fresh hay when the sound of footsteps brought her chin up. Looking across the hay strewn floor to the open doorway, her gaze met pale blue eyes. Urban. Her heart hitched and she dropped the bucket.

  He held up two white bags, smiling. “Here I am. Take out again.”

  A lump grew in her throat. She hated that goosebumps scattered her flesh every time she saw him. “Why are you here?” Although the question came out in a drone tone, she was bubbling over in excitement. She’d missed him and, until now, she had no clue how much.

  “I saw Cheryl at the diner and she told me you were working tonight. I thought you could use some company, and dinner.” He placed the bag on the workbench. He pulled off his poplin jacket and laid it on a bale of hay. He looked amazing in a tight fitting black T-shirt, and she admired his muscular biceps. faded jeans that were loose fitting, but not so loose to hide his thick thighs.

  Presley felt like she was carrying a bale of hay on each shoulder as she walked toward him inside the dim interior of the stables. His smile ripped through her. “So, you think it’s wise to drag yourself away from the camera?” She lifted a brow.

  Her anger didn’t touch his smile and it only teased her inner thighs more. “Someone beat me to the punch.”

  “Yeah, someone did. Imagine that. Seems almost coincidental.” She wanted to tell him to get the hell out because she had work to do, but unfortunately, he was the best thing to happen to her today.

  His expression was sincere. “You angry with me?”

  “Yes.” It was then she noticed the purple-blue bruising on his cheek. “What happened?” She stepped closer to get a better look. “Did you get into a fist fight?”

  “Something like that.” He scratched his temple. “It’s nothing. I’ve been hurt worse.”

  “Who did this?”

  “Hugh.”

  “Hugh? Why?”

  “I didn’t tell him face to face that you and I are getting married. It’s the brotherhood bond thing.”

  “It seems you have that problem, Urban. Not communicating the important things.” She shook her head and went to check on the cow who was wasn’t eating.

  “I didn’t expect the camera crew so soon. I planned to call you, but I got called away a case that has kept me busy.”

  Presley snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “A text message takes all of ten seconds.”

  His smile was lost as he drawled, “Okay, I was wrong, but give me a break. A week ago, I wasn’t even thinking about marriage. I’m new at this.”

  He did have a point, but she didn’t want to give in too quickly. “What’s in the bags?” She hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was hungry.

  “A cheeseburger and a brownie from Lanie’s.”

  Her stomach growled and her mouth watered. Crossing her arms over her chest, she sighed, “Urban, do you realize what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “By bringing you a brownie?”

  “By marrying me? The camera crew being here in Colton was something you should have shared with me, being that it involves both of us.”

  “You have a point and I should have called you immediately.”

  “Just like telling Hugh. I’m not defending him, but you should have told him sooner,” she said firmly. “Hope that mark on your face is gone by the wedding.”

  His lips played with a smile. “Anything else, sweetheart?”

  “Thank you for dinner. I’ve been here with Daisy forever waiting on this baby to make its entrance.”

  “I heard. I’m here to offer another pair of hands. Can’t say I’m a professional, but I’ve delivered my fair share of livestock.”

  She found that she wanted his company more than his help.

  Washing her hands in the utility sink, she took a seat on the workbench, reached into the first bag and took out the wrapped cheeseburger and cold bottle of tea. Munching, she was starting to feel more human. Urban was staring at her and she swiped a hand across her mouth. “Is something on my face?’

  “Yeah.” He easily strolled to her and wiped his thumb across the corner of her lips. “You had a smudge of mustard on your mouth.”

  Her laugh was nervous. Although her stomach was full, she was hungry for something different that didn’t include clothing. She dropped down off the bench, placing her burger on the wrapper, and wiped her hands down her dirty jeans. “I better check on Daisy.” But what she really wanted was to throw herself into his arms.

  Chapter Eleven

  Urban was hard as a rock as he watched Presley’s tongue come out to lick the very spot he’d cleaned with his thumb. He felt like someone had hit him across the head with a club…and her name was Presley Dean. He followed the delicate, smooth line of her face, over the silken length of her neck to the hollow between her collarbones. He swore he could see the fast beating of her pulse in the dip. His blood pressure shot up and warmth spread through him.

  Lord! She was amazing and soon she’d be his wife.

  He forgot they were in the stables as he roved his gaze hungrily down her exquisite curves to her hips and inner thighs. There were so many places on her he wanted to latch his gaze onto, so many he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look first. Tight jeans did an amazing job in encasing her firm, heart shaped bottom that made him grit his teeth to keep his tongue from falling out. Her legs were long and shapely and he couldn’t quite toss away the image of those legs wrapped around his thrusting hips.

  She leaned against the door to the stall and her breasts pushed forward in the fitted T-shirt. It wasn’t a surprise that it read, “Hard to handle. Easy to love.” The inference of those words made his balls ache. He’d fall at her feet if he thought she’d nuzzle him like she was lucky Daisy.

  Urban could only imagine how she must taste—like fresh berries and sweet cream. Yeah, he’d like to taste her cream. A woman as beautiful and lush as Presley must taste like vanilla spiked honey. His fingers itched to touch her skin, wrap his arm around her tiny waist and find out if she could make him as wild in bed as she did out. He had no doubt.

  Driving his gaze upward, his mouth salivated, watching her breasts bounce ever so slightly as she hooked one boot on the bottom rung of the door. Damn what he wouldn’t give to cup those amazing tits and suckle her nipples until she screamed his name. He wanted to make her cream like she did in the changing room. Remembering how hot and wet she’d gotten in seconds made his cock painfully hard.

  Speaking of cock, he was so hard that he feared he’d lose a seam or two of the jeans.

  He wanted to follow his craving and cross to her, drag her against him and kiss her, but he stayed frozen. His muscles were stiff and he could barely drag in a breath because he was so tight. She smiled at the cow and his heart kicked up in speed. This woman, soon to be his wife, was the prettiest woman he’d laid eyes on. How had he known her for so long and was just now realizing she was perfection? He focused on her pink kissable lips, mesmerizing the plump dip and curv
es, wanting to follow it with his tongue. His world tilted.

  A moan escaped him which brought her chin up and her gaze on him, curious. Her eyes were huge and a deep hazel color, surrounded by thick, dark lashes.

  He pulled off his hat and used it to cover his waist, hoping she didn’t see that he was busting out of his jeans. She went back to watching the cow and he went back to staring at her. From her flawless cheeks, upturned nose, and red hair that reflected the dim overhead light.

  “I’ve wasted too much time.” He dropped his hat and found his feet moving. There was no holding back or putting off the feelings rushing through him. He needed to be close to her—needed to touch her. She took a short step away from the gate, awareness covering her expression. Her eyes turned a shade darker.

  *****

  Time slowed to a crawl.

  Presley could only watch as Urban moved toward her, slowly and stealth-like. His pensive gaze burrowing into her, filling her with a warmth she’d never known. How many years had she waited for him to stop beating around the bush and make a move? Years she’d dreamed of him—wanted him—wanted to make the move herself.

  He looked like a fierce knight as he drew closer. Large, wide shoulders. Huge chest. Slender hips. The shirt stretched across him. She wanted to rid his torso of the barrier and lick every masculine dip of him. As she watched, she anticipated feeling his arms wrapped around her, his body pressed against hers. An image developed in her mind of ripping the shirt off his torso. Gravity held her gaze south of his shiny belt buckle, like the beam of a lighthouse. Dragging her chin up, their gazes snapped together and she felt the zing all the way into her sensitive parts. He was as lethal as a gun.

  If they didn’t touch soon she was going to burst at the seams.

  Urban reached out and glided his thumb along her bottom lip, sending a ripple of eagerness through her. How could a rough and brawny man be so gentle?

  “I think I’ll waste away if I don’t have a taste of you. Please tell me this is okay.”

  Goosebumps scattered her skin and the fine hairs on her nape stood up. “If you don’t, I’ll never forgive you.”

  He lowered his head, capturing her mouth in a slow, hypnotic kiss. He moved his lips in a soft, gentle exploration, relishing her. The kiss was a meeting of lips that started with a light caress, dipping his tongue in and sampling. Presley glided her hands up his chest to his shoulders and grasped the steel wall, more to resist the urge of ripping his shirt off his body. A moan escaped her lips and he swallowed the sound, followed with a grunt of desire of his own. Slipping her fingers lower. She squeezed his biceps, loving how they flexed as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

  Urban still moved with caution as if at any moment she would push him away, but that wouldn’t happen. She’d never known such desire, such want before in her life. He nibbled her top lip, then her bottom, suckling her tongue with gentle pressure. If ever there was a bittersweet torture, this was the definition. His torturous touches and licks were boiling her blood, bringing her to a heightened sense of erotica. Needing to be closer, she stood on tiptoes, taking more of his kiss, pressuring him with her impatience.

  Quickly, he pulled back and picked her up and she squealed, then giggled nervously. With three easy strides, he dropped down on a bale of hay and placed her on his lap, their faces at eye level. With one hand, he pushed her knees apart and slowly walked his fingers up her inner thighs. Her core swelled and the seam of her jeans became a teaser to her throbbing clit.

  “So warm,” he whispered, sliding one finger along the denim covered slit.

  Now she was trembling, loving how he tasted and felt, but she needed to push things along before she burnt alive in need. She climbed over his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, soaking in the warmth between their bodies. Threading her fingers in his hair, she savored in the satin heaviness. “I’m hungry for you, Urban. I know once I get a taste, nothing will ever compare.”

  “Good to know we’re on the same page.” He bent his head and nibbled the sensitive flesh where her neck met the dip of her collarbone. “I’m at a cross between wanting to take things slow and needing to rip through this like a ravenous man.” He cupped her neck with his palm and she could feel the shake in his fingers.

  “So, we only have once?” she teased.

  He growled. “Do you realize how perfect you are?”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, rolling her tongue around the plump curve of his swollen lips. One corner of his mouth lifted in approval. His hands glided up her back and tangled in her hair, dragging it free of the messy bun. Lush red waves tumbled down her shoulders and his eyes sparkled. His grunt was a sign of his internal war. He fitted his mouth over hers, suckling and nipping, spurts of fast with slower intervals. She darted her tongue inside his mouth, meeting him nip-for-nip, suckle-for-suckle. They swirled and sampled, devouring each other with a mere kiss. What would happen when they were naked? She trembled at the thought of what would come. Pressing her knees deeper into the hay bale, she pressed her core against him, gave her hips a slight circle and pushed him back against the wall.

  “You’re like a volcano ready to erupt, baby. I couldn’t run if my life depended upon it, and yet I know I’m going to be scorched.” His harsh, raspy breathing sent tingles straight into her nipples.

  Holding him pressed against the wall, she kissed his neck, sipped at the flesh, taking in the salty sweet goodness before lowering to lick the spot where neck met chest. Her heart was pounding and his pulse matched the beats. “Just to think I’ve imagined this…fantasized about this,” she muttered.

  It took him a moment, but he lifted his chin, the area between his brows scrunched. “You’ve wanted this with me before?” He seemed totally taken back.

  “Are you that surprised? I mean, you have a lot of women who want you.” She kissed his cheek, then his jaw.

  “But we’re talking about you, sweetheart, not just anyone. I thought you were fantasizing how to murder me and get away with it, but never in a million years would I think you were having sexual dreams of us. That’s freaking hot.”

  Without stopping her affectionate assault, she mumbled, “It’s true, Urban. In my dreams, we’ve kissed a thousand times and made love in so many different positions that I’ve lost count.” She suckled the hard cord along his neck, following it with her tongue.

  “And you decided to keep this a secret? That’s a tragedy.”

  “Oh? So, if I approached you and told you I was having sexual fantasies about us, you would have jumped my bones?” She laughed.

  “Damn. Yeah.”

  “Then let’s not waste any more time…” She reached between their bodies and grabbed his bulging crotch, her mouthwatering with the thought of what she wanted to do with that very solid part of him.

  “Hello? Urban?” The female voice echoed through the stables.

  “Who is that?” Presley darted off his lap, her gaze narrowed, her chest tight. “Did you invite someone here?”

  “Hell no!” He stood.

  A pretty brunette stepped into the center of the space followed by a cameraman and it became very obvious who this was, and the idea washed over Presley like a cold shower. She gave Urban a death look. His jaw was so tight he could probably snap a crowbar in two.

  “There you are. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the woman said, flashing a bright white smile. “When you didn’t show up for filming, I asked Hugh where you might be and he told me I could find you here.”

  “I’m going to shoot Hugh,” Urban said low enough that the woman couldn’t hear.

  “This must be Presley. I’m Adira, the lucky one who gets to film your cowboy.”

  Still reeling from what happened between she and Urban, Presley finally came to her fuzzy senses and stepped forward, shaking hands with the woman. “I’m a little shocked to see you. My fiancé here forgot to tell me he had plans.”

  “Isn’t that just like a man.” Adira
giggled. “Meet my camera whiz, Randy.” The tall man gave Presley a bashful smile and dipped his red cap. He seemed the type who felt more confident behind the camera than in front of it.

  Daisy let out a low cry, a warning that things were moving fast. Presley darted to the stall and opened the gate. “If it’s good TV you want, Adira, then I suggest you get that camera rolling. Have you ever witnessed the birth of a calf?”

  Her face paled. “No.”

  “You’re not a lightweight, are you? Blood make you sick?” Presley smiled. If she had to admit the truth, she felt a bit vindicated to see the weakness in the other woman After all, she’d interrupted the best damn kiss ever.

  “I’ll manage. Randy, get the camera ready.” They both moved forward.

  All the while, Urban had his hands stuffed in his front pockets, scowling. He’d get over it.

  Chapter Twelve

  “We have one chance at this. Are you ready, Urban?” Weston called from across the dirt.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” Urban held tight to his rope.

  “You’re the best roper. You’ll have no problem with this.” His brother gave him a thumbs up.

  “Are you and Wes in place?” The radio vibrated with Roman’s voice.

  Urban grabbed it from his hip and pushed the button with a gloved finger. “We’re in place. Keep driving her this way.”

  “She’s a coming, but you be careful, bro. We wouldn’t want you to hurt your pretty face while on camera,” Penn teased.

  “Your tux tie will match that bruise on your face,” Hugh’s laughter rang across the radio.

  “Now you know why I don’t tell you fools anything.”

  “Brighten up, bro. This time next week you’ll actually be a married man and have someone to go home and cry to,” Hugh snorted.

  Weston shook his head. “Don’t let them piss you off.”

  “Hugh, you just worry about doing your job, got it? And later, worry about getting a date. No one wants your ugly mug,” Urban huffed.