Cowboy Pickup

by Vonna Harper

  Tadd only had to jerk his head at the two cowboys to get them to stand. They backed so they were leaning against a wall with their drinks held in dirty hands and their expressions saying they could hardly wait to see what was going to happen next.

  She felt the same way, and more.

  Instead of doing the gentlemanly thing by offering the closest chair to her, Tadd spun it around and plunked himself down so he was sitting on it backward. He rested his arms on the wooden back.

  “Here’s the deal,” he said. “For me to be willing to buy you a drink, I insist on seeing what I get for my effort.”

  Fisting her hands by her sides, she slid forward until she was inches from him. Being taller than him felt damn good, a sensation she didn’t figure would last. “What if I say I’ll do the buying once I’ve determined that I’ll be getting my money’s worth?”

  “The way I see it—the way I’m looking at you—there’s no room for money in those painted-on jeans.”

  “Maybe I’m carrying plastic.”

  “Only one way to be sure.” Reaching around the chair back, he patted her butt. “Nope. Nothing there. How about in front?”

  She waited for another semi-intimate search. Instead, a cat-cornering-a-mouse grin lifted the sides of his mouth. “It just occurred to me that you might have money stashed in a private place. Only one way to be sure.”

  Even with him staring at her as if he was about to pounce, she took in their surroundings. In addition to the two men against the wall, a number of others were now giving Tadd and her their full attention. So, this was what exhibitionism felt like.

  Not bad. Different but all right.

  Leading to what she needed like air.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked, her muscles suddenly loose and her head roaring.

  “A strip search can be time-consuming. I prefer an activity that’s more personally satisfying, if you get my drift.”

  She shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Groping me isn’t on your list?”

  He gave her another of his I’ve-got-you smiles. “Not at the moment, though I’m certainly leaving my options open. What I want is for you to empty your pockets so to speak, starting with your shirt.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when her nipples tightened even more. Sure he’d notice, she pressed her legs together. Heated hardly described what was going on in her crotch. Damn, she should have come in hours ago—except he wouldn’t have been here.

  “You don’t want to piss me off,” he continued. “Believe me, that wouldn’t be a wise move on your part. A man who throws a mean and accurate lasso doesn’t mess around. Now, get going on those buttons.”

  Either someone had turned off a light somewhere or her ability to see was shrinking. She was still aware of the crowded conditions, but with Tadd’s voice directing her, she dismissed them.

  Getting her fingers to unbend took concentration. Her palms were hot, her fingertips cold. When she grabbed the fabric around the top snap, it was as if someone else was doing the work for her. The snap on the brand-new top was tight, causing her to risk ripping the cloth. Finally, though, the halves of snap number one were no longer fucking.

  Fucking. Good analogy.

  “Keep at it,” he said. “I’ll tell you when to stop.”

  Damn, but he could do a lot with a whisper. The way he’d rested his chin on his crossed forearms suggested he was only mildly interested in what she was doing. However, he occasionally slid his ass over the chair, giving away the truth.

  About to comply, she decided she could play this cool game as well as he did. After all, hadn’t that been her intention?

  Instead of watching for any change in his expression, she gave an exaggerated yawn and stared at a dusty, cobweb-coated set of antelope antlers on the wall to her right. She must have gotten the hang of things because the second snap didn’t put up nearly as much resistance as the first had. She wasted no time freeing the third, again pretending to yawn as she did.

  “That’ll do for now,” Tadd told her. “Wouldn’t want you to put out too much effort and get all tired. Now, push the shirt back on your shoulders.”

  Her kingdom for a mirror. For a thirty-year-old, her breasts were pretty perky. They could be larger, not that, given her lifestyle, she wanted them getting in the way. Not caring what Tadd or anyone else thought, she glanced down at herself. Her nipples were still covered, barely, with the upper swelling well displayed.

  Smiling a smile of her own, she pulled the shirt up a bit so she could slide it farther off her arms. Of course, she could now barely move her arms but she’d remedy that when the time came.

  “When do I get that drink?” she asked, tossing her hair provocatively as she’d seen women do on TV and in the movies, to say nothing of a mare in heat.

  “You’re getting closer.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much. How much further do I have to go?”

  His chuckle sent a sensation like fingernails running up and down her spine. She was getting lightheaded. At the same time, blood flowed to her pussy and made it heavy.

  “When you’re wearing nothing except those fine boots of yours,” he said, “I’ll buy you as much as you can drink.”

  Not bothering to point out that she couldn’t step out of her jeans without first taking off her boots, she hooked her thumbs over her waistband. “I know better than to get falling down drunk so, mister, if you’re thinking you can get me plastered and then fuck me, get that thought out of your mind. That ain’t how I roll.”

  “Point taken. How do you roll? You like this all the time or just when the moon’s full?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Maybe, and maybe I don’t give a damn.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That’s your problem, sweetheart.” He rubbed his whiskered chin, something she wished she could do. “Those jeans as tight as they look?”

  She wiggled her ass, blushing when several men laughed and someone clapped. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’d like nothing better than to get out of them, starting with unzipping so you can breathe.”

  He was right. The waistband dug into her. Why hadn’t she bought a size larger?

  Because this pair showed off the curves her crazy, busy life seldom gave her time to think about, let alone put on display.

  “You know,” she said as she slid her fingers over the metal fastening against her belly button, “the time’s soon going to come when I’ll demand the same from you.”

  “Yeah?” His expression said that hadn’t occurred to him.

  “Yeah. You ever hear of equality? Giving women the vote and a bunch of other stuff?”

  “Sounds vaguely familiar, but that doesn’t cover the present situation.”

  “The hell it doesn’t. You’re afraid your bod won’t meet muster.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you’ll have any complaints. Guarantee it, in fact.”

  “Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Damn straight. I don’t get any complaints.”

  “None? You have a high opinion of yourself.”

  “Just being honest, lady.”

  She had to stop talking nonsense and trying to snag another glimpse of his cock. Otherwise, she’d never be able to put her mind and fingers to working the metal button through the buttonhole. When she was done, instead of waiting for the command she had no doubt was on the tip of his tongue, she grabbed the zipper tab and pulled down.

  Despite the never-ending country music, she easily heard the ripping sound. Another study of her surroundings told the tale. All nearby conversations had ceased. She and the cowboy she’d picked up—or who’d picked her up—had become the front row entertainment.

  To heck with the audience.

  Only Tadd and the need knifing through her mattered.

  Driven by too many nights alone, she worked her jeans down until she’d exposed her belly and he could see t
he wisp of black lace panties she’d bought online.

  “Shit.” He leaned forward, pushing the chair off balance as he did, and ran a rough finger over the fragile elastic clinging to her hip bones. “I didn’t expect that.”

  “A girl’s gotta have a few tricks up her sleeve.”

  “Your sleeve has nothing to do with it.” He sounded a little out of breath.

  She waited until he was done checking out the merchandise she’d worn tonight for the first time. “You like?”

  “I’d have to be dead not to, and believe me, I’m not.”

  Fueled by the energy inside her, she said, “I have to take your word for it.”

  He rocked back. “What are you talking about?”

  Head held high and legs melting, she again hooked her thumbs over her waistband. Hopefully her stance made him think of her as a western outlaw calling out the town marshal. “A while ago you let me handle the merchandise. Now I can’t even see it. Maybe it’s gone into hiding or fell asleep.”

  “If you’re trying to get me riled up, it isn’t working.”

  “Oh?”

  “No. My self-esteem’s intact. No insecurities in the only department that matters tonight. Believe me, there’s nothing sleepy about my merchandise.”

  Someone guffawed.

  “Go on, show her,” someone else shouted.

  Tadd shot the speaker a look. “I don’t need no help.”

  “No,” she agreed. “He doesn’t.”

  More laughter followed her defense of Tadd. The thrill of hard-driving banjos coming from the ceiling speakers soaked into her skin. Too hell with a drink. She was already loopy.

  Tadd stood and spun the chair around. Instead of sitting, he widened his stance, shoving his hands into his back pockets as he did. They stood looking at each other, challenging in their separate ways while banjos played on and people breathed. Her heart felt as if it was working double-time, and she fought a momentary impulse to call the whole thing off. She didn’t in part because Tadd’s jeans strained against a bulge she wasn’t sure she could adequately cup let alone house.

  She needed it.

  Needed him.

  “You first,” he announced. “Jeans down.”

  “Oh, yeah? What if I don’t want—?”

  “Oh yes, you want,” a woman said. “We both know that. Get to the getting.”

  Crissy’s unexpected command distracted her as she searched for her friend. Crissy stood off to the side with the tall cowboy who’d picked her up draped over her like a blanket. Her blouse was half undone to accommodate the hand against her bra.

  “What are you doing?” Loria asked her.

  “Taking notes. Getting pointers. When it’s my turn, I want to do it right.”

  Laughter briefly drowned the music. By the time it fell away, the banjos had been replaced by a slow, low guitar that played in her head and heart. Her pussy twitched then let go. As her juices drenched the denim, she tugged down on her jeans. Whoever was behind her had an unobstructed view of several inches of butt crack. Going by Tadd’s expression, he was content to study the ‘V’ beneath the thin, hot red panties.

  I’m doing it. Getting closer to what’s going to happen.

  “See something you like?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to decide.”

  On the verge of informing him that he must be blind, she acknowledged that he was trying to goad her. “Well, I’ll tell you what. How about you let me know once you’ve made up your mind. In the meantime, I’m going to entertain myself.”

  Crissy’s laugh led the way. Loria’s cheeks flamed, and she had to work at getting her breath, but damn it, she was in too deep to back out, even if she wanted to.

  She didn’t.

  Another tug exposed a few more inches of ass. As Tadd’s lips parted to let her know he wasn’t as in control as he wanted her to think, she licked her fingers and slid them between flesh and silk. For one of the few times in her life, she’d shaved her pussy that morning. As a result, her fingers glided over smooth, lotioned and perfumed flesh. Even though the jeans prevented her from separating her legs more than a few inches, she managed to reach her slit. Her wet slit.

  “Exhibitionist,” an inner voice whispered.

  Damn right I am.

  She swallowed. Just the same, her voice came out high and thin. “Now, I’ll admit I’m no expert in what turns a man on, but I have had a little experience. More than a little. You’d like to be the one doing this, right?”

  Encouraged by his flared nostrils, she extended her fingers as far as they’d go. A single, quick touch of her clit left her with no doubt that she risked tipping over the edge if she did that again. The possibility held a certain appeal, but right now was about a man and a woman.

  Withdrawing her hand, she held it up so the light bounced off her wet fingers. “By golly, take a gander at what I found. And since you’re still trying to make up your mind whether you’re interested in the merchandise, I’m sure you won’t mind when I do this.”

  Feeling as if someone else had taken hold of her words and senses, she stuck her fingers in her mouth and loudly sucked. The taste of her excitement fueled another flood in her pussy. A man snorted while another groaned. Hopefully she and Tadd wouldn’t get kicked out.

  “Damn you,” Tadd grumbled. “Think you’re calling the shots, do you? You’re mistaken.”

  His catlike smile held as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and tipped his hat back a little, making it easy for her to pretend she was looking at a town marshal ready to face off against the outlaw she’d told herself she was. Damn but this was fun! Damn but she was turned on!

  “So far, I’m seeing a standoff,” she said. “Me making the moves while you get to reap the benefits. What do you have in mind? Maybe lassoing me and hauling me off to your corral?”

  Tadd gave his hat another shove. “No corral for you, little filly. I’m taking you to the hoosegow.”

  She laughed. “That’s not happening as long as I’m armed.” Risking dislocating her back, she thrust her pelvis at him. “Ever see a weapon like that?”

  Appreciative laughter followed her comment. Tadd’s expression became cougar-like. This man had spent several weeks with more animals, many of them predators, than humans. He’d picked up some of their mannerisms.

  Was on the prowl.

  Goosebumps prickled on her shoulders and arms. Not trying to stop herself, she rammed her hand between her legs again, this time outside her panties. “In case I have to spell it out, this is what I mean by armed,” she managed.

  “Shit.” He narrowed his eyes. “Enough.”

  There was something dangerous about his tone, an unsubtle warning that hadn’t been there before. Responding to the primitive challenge, she let go of her crotch. Now standing before him with her arms at her sides and her clothes half off, she breathed in air coated with the scent of sweaty men and beer.

  Hell, good!

  Alive in spades.

  His gaze held her tightly as any rope as, seemingly oblivious to their audience, he unsnapped and unzipped his jeans, dragging them down a little in the process. Still not acknowledging their audience, he pulled out his cock.

  “Ride that, cowgirl,” he said.

  “Shit,” a man whispered.

  “Damn,” another muttered.

  Her mouth filled with saliva, but that was nothing compared to the flood between her legs. She’d never been interested in public speaking, hadn’t once been interested in joining the drama club, but this was different. Beyond real.

  Something she’d been thinking about for a long time.

  Closing her mouth was out of the question, and her breasts ached so much she had no choice but to cup them. Holding them tightly against her body with her damnable unwanted shirt between her and tender flesh, she closed her eyes. When she opened them, Tadd’s expression had softened enough that she no longer thought of him as the town sheriff.

  He was a man. Weary from weeks on t
he range, much of it spent on horseback while breathing in dust or sleeping on the ground, he’d come into the Sidewinder to wash away the range and lonely nights. He’d dreamed of finding a woman who understood his needs. That had been all he wanted from her.

  “Now? Here?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

  He blinked. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t want to elaborate on that?” she asked. “Maybe draw me a picture of what you have in mind?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “You know what I want.”

  Yes, I do. It’s the same thing I need.

  After planting a sweaty hand on the table, she lifted a leg and tugged off her left boot. Then, hoping she wouldn’t lose her balance, she did the same with her right.

  When she straightened, she took a moment to look around, to ground herself in reality. Although men predominated, she spotted two women in addition to Crissy. Neither of the other women were alone. Their snap shirts were undone and bras exposed. One was thin to the point of being scrawny while the other’s abundant flesh spilled out over and under her bra. The men draped over them seemed oblivious to everything except where their hands were.

  Crissy had lost her shirt.

  Breathing in more sweat and energy, Loria stepped out of her jeans. She was calm—ready. Not at all self-conscious. “Your turn,” she told Tadd. “For the record, the panties are staying put until you’re undressed to my satisfaction.”

  “A standoff,” someone announced. “Come on, man, don’t let the little hooker win.”

  Just like that, she believed Tadd was going to punch the man who’d called her a hooker. Arm muscles bulged and his strong jaw clenched.

  “That was uncalled for,” she said. “You’re a member of the audience, not a participant.”

  “Hell, can you blame me for—”

  “Stop while you can,” Tadd said. “Otherwise, you’re going to regret it.”

  “Seriously?” the man asked.

  She glared at him. “Are you stupid? I’m warning you, shut up. Otherwise, Tadd’s going to make you eat your words.”

  The man backed away from Tadd. “All right, all right. I’m sorry. I was just joking.”