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

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Urban's Rush (Saddles & Second Chances Book 4) Page 12

by Rhonda Lee Carver


  They had a runaway stallion and to keep him from getting too far, they were using the truck to guide her in the direction where Urban and Weston waited to snare him. Urban could see the dust trail along the stretch of pasture. He dug his worn, dirty boots into the ground, holding tighter to the rope as he watched. The horse was galloping at a high rate of speed, kicking up dirt and grass. With each foot of land the horse ate up, the deeper Urban crouched, steadying himself. When the runaway was close enough, Urban lifted the rope high above his head, twirled it and swung. The lasso dropped over the horse’s neck, but it wasn’t giving in easily. The slack in the rope tightened, but Urban didn’t release his hold as he held the end tightly, then dragged ten feet…twenty and thirty before the stallion slowed, knocking Urban to his stomach and dragging him a few more feet. The horse pranced around in complaint.

  Weston rushed in and soothed the horse, replacing the lasso with a bit which thankfully, he took without putting up too much of a fuss.

  Urban stood up and swiped his gloved hands down the dusty thighs of his jeans and T-shirt.

  “You okay?” Weston asked.

  “I’m good.”

  “Shit! That was close,” Penn said as he slid out of the truck, followed by Hugh.

  “Not for you two.” Urban shook his head.

  “Ahh, did you get beat up, bro?” Hugh pounded Urban on the shoulder.

  Urban bit his tongue, not allowing them to get under his skin. Since yesterday when he and Presley had been interrupted in the stables, he’d been teetering on being a crazy man.

  What had happened?

  Urban was still asking himself that even now.

  He was left hard and bereft, and angry. He’d been close to telling Adira that he wanted to quit the damned documentary.

  Miserable, he couldn’t quite work off the desire in his body. Thinking of the situation outside of his own miserable bubble, it was probably best he and Presley didn’t end up having sex in the stables, although as much as he told himself that very thing, he still couldn’t seem to come to terms that he’d been a hair’s width from finding out what Presley Dean felt like under her clothes. For their first time though, he wanted it to be special.

  Damn. He wanted her more than he needed his next breath. This was supposed to be easy, instead he was locked in a position with a woman who he’d give his eye teeth to hold close every second of his day. Uncertainty lingered within him if he was prepared to handle all the emotions ransacking his insides.

  As soon as he could, he fled from the camera and his brothers, not wanting anymore of their razzing, and hurried up to his house where he could have some quiet time to continue to think about Presley. Hell, they would be married soon. He was marrying a woman he barely knew, and yet she’d told him she’d wanted him for years. He shook his head and wiped a hand down his cheek. How had he been so oblivious?

  His old dog, Lucky, jumped up from the porch, wagging his scraggly tail when Urban approached, rewarding the loyal companion with a scratch on his head. “How you doing, boy?” Lucky had been around the ranch since he was a pup and, although he was getting old, he still had a lot of pep in his step even if he didn’t go out on the land as often as he once did.

  Inside the house, Urban didn’t even bother turning on the lights to eliminate the shadows of his quiet house. Upstairs, he strolled into his bedroom and dropped down on the king-sized bed, but he wasn’t sleepy. He just imagined that Presley was there with him, draped over his mattress, naked and willing to let him explore her. All he wanted to do was get into his truck, drive over to her clinic and hold her soft, sweet, wonderful body—sex or not. He’d like to kiss her again, feel her succumb to his touch. It had been awhile since he’d sunk his body into the silken folds of a woman and here lately he knew no woman would do to satisfy him if her name wasn’t Presley Dean. All day he’d had a thought stuck in his head. He wondered what he and Presley’s children would look like. Would the girls be petite with red hair and skin as white as milk? Or boys that were strapping and built to run a ranch? Hell, this was a dangerous path considering the marriage was only temporary.

  His cell vibrated and he grabbed it out of his back pocket, reading the text message…

  “Could you drop by the house when you’re finished on the land? We need to talk. Presley.”

  His stomach pitched. What did she need to speak to him about?

  It was a short, but long drive, as the possibilities drove through him. What if she decided they shouldn’t get married? He wasn’t sure how he would handle that if it came to it.

  He touched the pocket of his jacket, feeling the box where he’d kept it since he purchased the ring. Would he give it to her tonight? When he saw her wearing the ring at the shop with a gleam in her eye, he knew he had to get it for her. Every woman needed an engagement ring to solidify things. He could be an idiot at times, but he was smart enough to know that no matter what Presley said, she liked a little bling.

  Pulling up in front of her house, he noticed that her truck was the only one parked out front. Turning off the engine, he hurried up to the porch and knocked on the screen door.

  “Come in,” she called from inside.

  Stepping through, he didn’t see her. “Presley?”

  “Upstairs.”

  Climbing the stairs two at a time, he turned at the top step and went to the open doorway of her bedroom.

  He saw her—and boy, did her see her.

  The lamp was turned on casting a golden glow on her. She held a towel pressed against her chest, hiding her breasts and hips, but her bare legs were sleek and toned. Soft hair hung down her slender shoulders, almost landing at the middle of her back. He could have easily forgotten to breathe because her enchantment had him vexed.

  The towel dropped and his groan echoed off the white walls.

  Her smile could heal his every ailment. He wanted to see that smile each and every day of his life.

  Naked and beautiful, he explored every smooth, creamy, magnificent inch of her body. Every woman he saw naked up until this point was forgotten. Every woman he had a crush on no longer existed to him. No one had ever looked this good or made him feel like he was turned inside out. Now that he saw her like this, he knew he wanted to see her again and again, explore every luscious delicate valley and sweet dip. Forever.

  He licked his lips as he wished his tongue was on her full, perfect breasts, to claim those beauties with his palms until she cried out his name. Her nipples were hard and puffy pillows of pink. He shook from head to toe, not knowing if this was all a dream or heaven.

  “Thank you for coming,” she whispered.

  “Please tell me this isn’t just a dream…you, naked. Me here with you.” He could barely talk.

  One corner of her mouth flirted with a smile. “We should be safe here unless you brought Adira and Randy with you.”

  “Hell no!” He kicked the door closed and strolled across the room, but didn’t touch her. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

  “Considering we’re getting married in a week, I’d say it would be perfectly fine to put the honeymoon night before the wedding day.”

  “Where’s Harris?” He didn’t need another shotgun scare.

  “Gone for a few days. We’re alone.”

  “Alone never sounded better.”

  *****

  Presley motioned for him to join her on the bed. He did and she ran her palm down his stubbled cheek, enjoying the whiskers against her palm. “How about we turn a fantasy into reality?”

  His jaw tightened. “I’ve never been asked a better question.” With one swift move, he had her on her back and was over her. He kissed her neck, the tops of her breasts and her nipples tingled. “Will you forgive me if I go too quickly?” His fierce gaze rocked her all the way to her center.

  “Are you only promising once tonight? I was thinking a man like you, one who rides bulls for a living, could at least manage twice in one night.”

  He rubbed his nose a
long her jaw and breathed in deeply, as if he was inhaling her scent to his memory. She looked into his eyes, seeing the pent-up desire writing love stories in the blue depths. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

  “Like…?”

  “The world.” He kissed the corner of her mouth. “My heart.”

  She blinked. “Surely, you’re not saying you think you can fall in love with me, are you Urban?”

  He hesitated, as if allowing her words to soak into his lust filled brain cells. “I’m saying, I’ve never been happier. I think we should let things happen.”

  “We’re getting married, but that doesn’t change the end result which is divorce, right?”

  “Sounds to me like you’re afraid, darlin’.” He kissed her other cheek.

  “Afraid?”

  “Of this feeling between us.”

  “I’m not afraid, just we’ve made an agreement, not promises for a future together. The sexual tension is hot between us, we’re adults so why can’t we entertain ourselves while we’re together?” Although she had to force the casual tone to her words, she wanted to believe that Urban would develop feelings for her. But was it a long shot? Was she allowing her heart to blind logic? They were getting married for the benefits, and sex would be one of them, but was love?

  “So, there’s no chance you’ll ever have feelings for me?” He cocked a brow.

  “Are you never satisfied, cowboy? I’m not putting any pressure on you.”

  “You’re a different breed of woman, darlin’.”

  “Because I choose not to believe in fairytales?”

  “Is that because your mom left when you were young?”

  She swallowed against the pain in her throat. “You remember that, huh?”

  “You’re the type of a woman a man wants to spend forever with, sweetheart. You hide behind your work, giving all your affection to animals, when I know you want more in life. We all have baggage and sometimes it keeps up from allowing others in.”

  Meeting his gaze, she nibbled her bottom lip. “What’s your excuse then, cowboy?”

  He gave a small shrug. “Tired of being wanted for an image. I want someone who sees something more.” He slid a finger down her neck.

  “Are we going to make love or chit chat another hour?” She draped one leg over his back, trapping him. “Kiss me.”

  “Patience, sweetheart. It’s a virtue if you haven’t heard,” he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck.

  She entwined her fingers into his thick hair, loving how it felt. He dug his bulging crotch against her core. With the tip of her tongue, she teased his slightly parted lips then slipped inside to play with his tongue. He scraped his teeth against her lip, his beard scratching against her skin, making her tremble. Lifting her hips, she rubbed her body against his tight zipper and he grunted.

  Presley ground against him and his kiss became needier, hungrier. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth, in and out, grasping her shoulders with his large hands. “You are a minx.”

  “With you, I am,” she whispered against his neck.

  He kissed his way along her neck down the deep valley between her breasts. “Before I implode, I gotta get my mouth on these sweet tits.” He grabbed both her breasts, one for each hand, and pushed them together, the thick nipples aching for his attention. “Have you ever been told how beautiful your breasts are?” he cooed.

  She watched him open his mouth and suck on one nipple and areola, lavishing the pert bud with the same attention he’d give to an ice cream cone. She stared in fascination, wondering how he’d do with another part of her. The pleasure was so intense it pulsated through her, wave after wave, making her so sensitive that each suckle turned into a fiery breath.

  “Urban…” Wrapped in bliss, she wanted to keep watching but she was overcome with such pleasure that she had no choice but to lay her head back, close her eyes and enjoy the ride. With a greed she never witnessed, he lapped at her breasts, sucking and licking, nipping and scraping his teeth over the mounds. The suckling noises and faint moans of pleasure in his throat were an aphrodisiac. She could lay here forever, saturated in the feeling. “I fantasized how your tongue would feel on me—on my most sacred parts. The wetness of your tongue. The scraping of your beard. I wanted this so much at times I thought I’d die with want,” she cried out. He continued to mold her breasts in his hands while taking in as much of the mounds as he could.

  Soon, her hips took on a rhythmic dance of the gods, bucking while spreading her legs wide. He must have read her desperation because he slipped a hand between them and found her wet slit.

  *****

  He toed off his boots, practically tore off his clothes and joined her again.

  “I love your tits and could stay here another hour, but I can’t wait to get my mouth on other parts that are wet and ready.” As if in answer, she lifted her hips high, welcoming him into her heat. He loved that she was slippery with cream, just for him. “Would you like my tongue on this?” He twirled a finger around her plump clit.

  “Yes. I would.” She opened her legs wider.

  She purred when he slipped down her body, kissing his way to her navel. He took a moment to whirl his tongue around the shallow well, dipping his tongue in and rolling. He nibbled her skin all the way to her waist and gave her a sloppy kiss.

  “I could almost come in anticipation.” She laughed, but it fizzled on her lips when he bit her inner thigh ever so gently.

  His hands were large compared to her slit and he used his thumbs to hold her open as he dipped his tongue into the creamy pink folds, lapping up her delicacy, feeling himself grow harder. She groaned and he smiled. “Like my tongue?”

  “Yes!”

  Sliding his hands around, he grasped her ass tight, kissing the silken folds, gave her clit a quick swirl, then dipped his tongue into her passage. She rode his mouth, bumping his nose.

  “Calm down, darlin’.” He drove his tongue deeper into her channel, making love to her with his mouth. Her clit swelled twice the size as if begging for more attention. “You taste so damn good.” He swirled his tongue around the opening and one long lick to the glistening pearl. “Making you feel good has become my number one priority.” Tasting the thickness of her, he knew she was so close. He lifted, looking up her body. “Are you on the pill?”

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  He smiled. The last thing he wanted was to put a barrier between his cock and her tight pussy.

  He climbed atop her and brushed the tips of his fingers along her ribcage, causing her to squirm and giggle. “Would you be against bareback?”

  She met his gaze. “Please. Yes. I want to feel you.”

  “I’m clean.” Although he hoped she knew he’d never take the risk unless he knew, he wanted to let her know.

  “I am too.”

  Looking down at her, he brushed a tendril of hair from her cheek before lowering and sweeping one arm around her waist to draw her close. “Open for me, sweetheart.” She did as he requested and spread her legs. “I love your nest.”

  She smoothed her hands up his flesh and she scraped her nails against his nipples. An electrical current washed through him. “Miles and miles of masculinity—muscles.”

  He was ready to take the plunge, but her mouth on his chest, kissing and licking held him steady. She stroked every available inch of him, then she nibbled his nipples and his breath came out in a hiss. Such an innocent gesture turned him into butter. Presley was a wonderful, hypnotic, magical mystery and yet she was as open as a book. He could see the craving in her pensive eyes, her touch, the way she squirmed under him. Being with her couldn’t be described in one word—not even two or three. He’d been with women who could turn a man inside out with a simple touch, but Presley…she was a leader in sexual intoxication.

  Urban pushed a finger inside her and her attention on his chest slowed, as if he had her right where he wanted her. As he glided his fingers deeper, relishing in the wet coils of her slick muscles, she dre
w in a shaky breath.

  “Your fingers…oh my. Nice.”

  He began a tempo and her muscles tightened. She wriggled and jutted her hips, rubbing her pink folds along his knuckles. “You’re so tight. So wet.” He added a second finger.

  “Glorious heaven,” she whispered. She felt her body start down a path of wonderment. “I’m going to come.”

  “Yes. Come for me, baby. Cream on my fingers,” he encouraged.

  “I-I’ve never had an orgasm before. Not with a man.”

  “What? No man has ever brought you to climax?” Excitement paved a way through him. “Come for me, sweetheart. Let it go. Give it all to me and then I’ll give you more pleasure.” He latched his mouth on to her nipple, sucking firmly.

  He could hear the heavy pants of her breathing as she thrashed against the bed. Her cream grew thicker. Her body turned tight. She cried out, “Urban!”

  She clenched his fingers tight and he was ready to take her, but she had other plans.

  She gave him a slight push and he landed on his back. “My turn.” Sliding down his body she outlined the swell of his cock as if learning him by memory. Then she kissed the tip, darted her tongue out to lick up the bit of pre-come on the slit. He moaned and pulled at her shoulders, but she swatted him away. “Nope. I said, my turn.”

  Any other time he would have been slap happy to lay back and enjoy the fun, but he was going wild with wanting her. When her mouth wrapped around him he sucked in a breath and clasped the sheet in his tight fists. “Fuck!” he hissed.

  She laughed, didn’t even take his cock out of her mouth. The vibration bounced right through him. She lapped at him like a favorite popsicle and he thought for sure he’d blow in her mouth…but he had other plans.

  Reaching down, he grasped her waist, flipped her over to her back and lifted himself above her. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and smiled. “I think I found your spot.”

  “Yeah, you found my spot alright.”

  Spreading her thighs, he didn’t waste another minute as he positioned the head of his cock at her opening. Pushing against the resistance of her muscles, he realized she was unbelievably tight.

 

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