“Seriously, Julie, I don’t have anything to wear.”
Julie grinned as Amanda stared at her outfit. “Sugar, I’ve got plenty for you to wear. You’re a little taller than me, and you’ve got bigger tits—which look awesome by the way—but I know we can find something that will reveal your inner…sensuality.”
Amanda read “slut” into the word and smiled. Maybe it would be good to get away from the ranch for a while. There really wasn’t anything she could do to help Jake and Justin. Her whole reason for being here had been destroyed by a maniac. Even if she heard from Chi Long, there was nothing she could do tonight. And Jake had asked for a rain check on their date.
Julie must have seen her wavering and pressed harder. “Come on, girl. You can’t really say you’ve been to Texas until you’ve two-stepped at the Rusty Buckle. And there are so many damn fine cowboys to dance with. The boys are gonna love teaching a big city girl how to dance Texas style.”
What the hell. It’ll beat hanging out in this room all alone. With a sigh she gave in. “All right, the Rusty Buckle it is.”
Amanda followed Julie to the trailer house where she lived, parked not far from the foal barn. She had never seen quite so much clutter in such a confined space. Half the mess seemed to be ribbons and trophies for horse shows and pictures of horses. The other half was general mess and dozens of garments, which somehow never made it to a hamper or a hanger.
The first thing Julie did when they got to the trailer was open a pint bottle of whiskey and take a long swig. She handed the bottle to Amanda. “Take a good pull, sugar. They tend to water the drinks a bit.”
Seems there’s just no winning, Amanda thought, taking a long swig and setting her eyes watering and her throat on fire.
“Here,” Julie said. “This is just the thing.” She was holding up a chocolate brown suede leather skirt that couldn’t have been much more than ten inches from hem to waistband. And the bottom three inches had been cut into a deep fringe.
“I don’t think so. That skirt will show off my…everything.”
“That’s the idea, Mandy. A girl needs to show off enough to get a cowboy’s attention, but not enough to get arrested. Now lose those jeans and put this on.”
Amanda took off her boots and stripped out of her jeans, giving in to Julie’s insistence that she wear the tiny fringed leather skirt.
As Amanda’s jeans came down, Julie gave a long wolf whistle. “Darlin’, those panties are hot! They are gonna love you at the Buckle!”
Amanda blushed and looked down at her white silk panties with the middle slit laced up with satin ribbon. Of her girlfriends, only Sarah knew about her penchant for buying outrageously sexy underwear. She wasn’t sure what Julie meant, but she damn sure didn’t plan on showing her panties off at some Texas roadhouse.
“Now we just need the right top. Let’s try this.” Julie held up a long sleeve western style shirt. “It’s a little big for me, so it should fit you just fine.”
The shirt had a pointed collar with silver tips on the collar points. The body of the shirt was a dusky rose color with a chocolate brown yolk and cuffs. The yolk and cuffs were cut in a Western-style scallop and double stitched with rose-colored thread.
The shirt was fitted, coming to just below her breasts where it tied in a knot. This left six inches of bare waist and back showing.
A row of pearl snaps closed each cuff, but there were no snaps at all on the front of the shirt. Only the knot was holding the shirt closed.
Amanda looked at herself in Julie’s dressing mirror, which was surrounded by horse show ribbons in various colors. “Jesus, Julie. This is awfully revealing.”
The shirt was tight and fit Amanda’s torso like a latex glove. The open V above the knot showed an inch or more of the white silk cups of her bra and the rounded globes of her breasts.
Amanda pulled the V together a few inches above the knot. “Maybe we should pin it here.” She let the V open again. “This just looks pretty risqué.”
“Honey, risqué is what the Buckle is all about. You look great. Come on. Luke is waiting for us.”
“So Luke is just our driver? Not your date?”
“Not tonight,” Julie led the way from the trailer to Luke’s truck, which was idling quietly next to the lodge. It had turned dark but the moon was almost full, giving the two women plenty of light to see by.
Before they got to the pickup, Julie said, “I know you saw me and Luke in the barn. And in Justin’s room. Luke said he saw you on the balcony watching us. For me, that just made it hotter. Around here, sex is fun. Nobody asks for commitments or makes demands. I suspect you might have had some fun with the boys while I was in El Paso. I hope you did, because Luke is hung like a goddamned stallion.” She giggled and then said, “Tonight however, Luke is trying to round up a little redheaded filly from the BigEnuf spread. We are on our own.”
The conversation left Amanda feeling both embarrassed and aroused, wondering if there were many cowboys in Texas with cocks as big as Luke’s.
They reached the truck and found Luke in the driver’s seat waiting patiently. Amanda started to crawl into the small backseat of the crew cab, but stopped at Julie’s call. Amanda turned to her in surprise.
“Hey, your hat,” Julie said. “Where is it? They won’t let you in without a hat on.”
“In my room. I’ll run get it. I need my purse too. Be back in a minute.”
“Don’t worry about your purse. Just grab a credit card, some cash, and your phone. Put your money and your credit card in your boot. Your phone, too, if it will fit. Otherwise, give it to me and I’ll carry it in my pocket.”
Amanda nodded quickly before dashing up the steps. As she entered the lodge’s main room, she saw that Jake’s office door was closed. She felt guilty for going out with Julie when Jake and Justin had such serious problems to deal with. But Julie was right. There was not a damn thing she could do tonight.
She ran up to her room and grabbed what she needed from her purse. She took her hat from the bedpost, put it on, and checked herself in the mirror. “Damn, Mandy Sloane. For a big city girl, you cowgirl up pretty good.” Especially when the look is pure cowgirl tramp. She pulled the hat down an inch in front and ran down the stairs again.
Chapter Fifteen
Amanda had once been to the famous cowboy saloon in New York. In fact, she’d gone only because Chi Long, her client from Santa Fe, wanted to go and Richard insisted she take him. The Rusty Buckle Saloon, however, made that New York bar look tame.
The roadhouse was huge, with at least a couple hundred people in it and room for three or four times that many.
“It doesn’t get too crowded on weeknights.” Julie leaned close and yelled over the music. “On Saturday night, there will be a four or five hundred in here.”
As Luke led the women into the saloon, they passed between a pair of six-foot six bouncers who were as massive as tree trunks. The two cowboys nodded and greeted Luke and Julie by name, but their attention was focused on Amanda.
“Mandy,” Julie nodded toward the bouncers. “Meet Skeeter and Billy Bob. If any cowboy gets too friendly, just whistle. One of the boys will show up quick.”
Skeeter and Billy Bob tipped their hats and then pushed aside the crowd at the entrance to let Luke and Julie and Amanda into the saloon.
The building was two stories tall and almost completely open. Massive support posts divided the space into four sections, each about the same size. The corner in the back held a dance floor where a five-piece band played a medley of Garth Brooks’ songs. Thirty or so dancers were doing the two-step, the cowboys guiding their cowgirls backward in a counterclockwise circle around the dance floor. Amanda was amused to see there was actually chicken wire strung up across the corner to protect the band from flying beer bottles.
In the far right corner sat half a dozen pool tables, all occupied by cowboys shooting or waiting their turn. To their immediate right was a restaurant, with swinging double doors ope
ning onto what was obviously a kitchen. Half the tables and booths were filled and it looked as if every plate had a steak on it.
The area to the immediate left was the most crowded and, as Amanda figured, it was where the liquor was poured. The bar must’ve been forty feet long with every bar stool filled. All the booths and high tables were also filled, with dozens more cowboys and cowgirls milling around.
Once inside, Julie headed toward the bar. “Come on, Mandy. Let’s get something to wash down supper.”
The smell of sizzling steaks and the mention of food made Amanda realize she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and she was starving. Luke said he had already eaten and was off to grab a longneck and wait for an opening at a pool table.
Julie twisted and nudged her way through the packed crowd around the bar, Amanda following close behind. The rough plank floor of the bar was littered with peanut shells from the bowls that sat on every table.
As they passed through the throng, Julie said over her shoulder, “If you want your ass pinched, just walk through here in an hour or so. And if you really want to get felt up, walk through real slow.”
She had worried the cowgirls at the roadhouse would all be fresh faced and hard bodied twenty year olds, but their ages ranged from early twenties to women in their forties and fifties. Her concern that their outfits were too risqué was also misplaced. Almost all the women, younger and older, were wearing sexy outfits of every description—acres of bare skin above the décolletage created by pearl snaps that hadn’t been fastened and yards of bare midriffs and bare legs thanks to tiny denim miniskirts and cut-off shorts.
Julie finally reached the bar and got them both margaritas in mugs so big Amanda had to hold hers with both hands. As they made their way out of the packed bar, everyone stared, the men mostly admiringly, the women mostly curious, and a few judgmental. She didn’t know if it was because she was a new face or because she was a city girl way out of her element. Either way, it was a bit disconcerting. She didn’t like being the center of attention. Unless it was in private, in bed, with a handsome man.
Just as they reached the edge of the bar, Amanda felt a rough hand slip up under the back of her fringed skirt. She let out a squeal and jumped, juggling her margarita and spilling some.
Julie looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I forgot to tell you. The boys are more likely to feel you up if you’ve got a full drink in your hand. They’re less likely to get slapped. But take it as a compliment, sugar.”
In the dining room, they found a booth and ordered steaks with onion rings and baked potatoes. Julie tried to get Amanda to order lamb fries, but the New Yorker in her staunchly refused. In her pre-trip research about Texas, she’d learned a great deal about this “delicacy” of calf testicles.
Midway through their meal, a shadow covered the table and Amanda looked up to see a handsome, broad shouldered cowboy leaning over them, resting his hands between their steak plates.
“You two fillies look like you need some company.” The man looked at Julie. “I know you. You’re from the Morgan Ranch. But who is this sweet thing here?” He looked at Amanda. The man had a smarmy smile and an attitude she immediately disliked. The cowboy turned and tried to sit down next to her. “Scoot over darlin’. Maybe I can help you cut your meat. Soak up some of those hot juices.”
Amanda held her place, not letting him sit down. “No thanks. I’m doing fine on my own.”
The man stood back up, a surprised look on his face. “Well listen to you darlin’! You damn sure ain’t from Texas, are you?”
“Beat it cowboy,” Julie waved her steak knife, shooing him away. “We want to finish our supper.”
“Well, when you’re done, look me up. Just ask for Buck. Everybody knows me. And I’d love to show Miss Yankee Doodle here how to really do a Texas two-step.” The man walked away with a swagger.
“He’s a prick,” Julie said. “Pay no attention to him. He’s a hotshot bull rider who thinks he’s God’s gift to women. He gets all the pussy he wants from buckle bunnies.”
“Buckle bunnies?”
Julie grinned. “Buckle bunnies are rodeo sluts that will go down on whichever cowboy has the biggest prize buckle. But don’t worry. There are plenty of nice guys in here, too. Just be sure and check out their back pockets first.”
“Their back pockets?”
“Yeah. Look at that cowboy over there. See that round bulge in his back pocket?”
“Yes. I see it.”
“Well sugar, he ain’t Luke and that’s not a package of condoms.”
Amanda giggled and looked back at the cowboy.
“That’s a can of chewing tobacco. And there’s nothing quite as nasty as kissing a man who chews tobacco.”
Amanda made a face. “God, I would guess so. I won’t even date a man who smokes.”
“Sad thing is, more than half the men in here have a can of that crap in their pockets.”
Amanda looked around, noticing how many cowboys sported a bulge in the back pocket of their jeans. “It’s too bad that those aren’t condoms. That size would make for a hell of a lot of happy Texas gals.” Amanda looked at Julie, giving her a conspiratorial grin. “Luke really is big isn’t he?”
“Hung like a horse.” Julie returned the grin, sharing a knowing look that only two women who’ve fucked the same man could share.
They finished their steaks and were making their way to the bar for margarita refills when the band started playing a honkytonk classic. Immediately three of the cowgirl bartenders hopped up on the bar and started dancing, their boots amazingly missing the drinks around their feet. All three of the women had on denim shorts cut off to the crotch, so high in back that at least three inches of each butt cheek showed.
The band was getting louder, the crowd wilder. Julie said she had to pee and suddenly Amanda found herself alone. She edged her way to the dance floor to watch the dancers two-stepping. At some unseen signal, the couples formed a line and began dancing facing each other, the woman on one side and the men on the other. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her bare waist. Startled, she turned to see Buck.
“Come on city girl. Let me show you how we dance in Texas.” He had managed to turn her around so they were face-to-face. Keeping one hand on her waist, he reached with the other toward the knot of her shirttail just below her breasts. Using his forefinger, he pulled the knot outward. “You know city girl,” he said. “I’m really good at knots. Tying them and untying them. And you’ve got a great rack. I’d love to lay my gun in a rack like yours.”
She was holding her drink in one hand and was ready to draw back and slap him with her other hand. But it was crowded, and she didn’t want to hit some innocent bystander by mistake. Instead, she looked up at him and smiled. “Well darlin’,” she said in the best Texas drawl she could manage. “You probably haven’t got a big enough gun to fill my rack.” Then she tipped her almost full icy margarita down the front of the man’s jeans.
Buck’s eyes widened as the cold drink covered his crotch and inner thighs. He stepped back away from her, his eyes wide. Then they narrowed in anger. “You fucking Yankee bitch! I should whip your ass!”
“You’d have to get by me first.” Julie said. She must have seen Amanda tilt her drink down the front of Buck’s pants. “And if we get into a brawl, which might be fine, you can bet your bull-riding ass that I’ve got more friends in here than you do. So why don’t you go home and change? You look like you peed yourself.”
Skeeter suddenly appeared, towering over Buck and the two women. “Any trouble here?”
“Nope.” Julie looked hard at Buck. “We’re good.”
Buck gave both women one last angry look that promised revenge then turned and walked away.
“Well done, Mandy. For a city girl, you take care of yourself pretty well.”
Amanda smiled. “There are jerks everywhere. So I’ve had a little practice. Come on, let’s get me another drink.”
They switched from margar
itas to shots of tequila and, half an hour later, neither woman was feeling any pain. For Amanda, the mild numbness from the tequila was a welcome relief from the events of the day.
“Come on, Mandy.” Julie tugged Amanda toward the dance floor. “You can’t leave Texas without learning to two-step.” They stood watching the circling dancers for a few minutes. Then Julie nodded toward a tall cowboy in a white hat. “There’s our guy. He’s the best dancer on the floor.” When the song ended, Julie walked up and spoke to the cowboy she’d picked out.
“Hey cowboy, my friend here is from New York City and she wants to learn to scoot her boots. Could you give her a quick lesson?”
The cowboy looked from Julie to Amanda, his face lighting up with a smile that said he would be happy to give her a lot more than a dance lesson.
“Sure. Happy to oblige.”
The band started playing a Willie Nelson song and the cowboy swept Amanda out onto the dance floor with a smooth, gliding step. It took a minute or two, but the step was a simple quick-quick, slow-slow beat and she had it mastered in no time.
Amanda had also quickly picked up switching from the straight backward two-step into the promenade, where she turned and danced in the same direction as her partner. With a smooth dance partner and just enough tequila to loosen her up, she was having a great time. For the next five or six songs, she was on the dance floor continuously, dancing with different cowboys who cut in on each other. Julie was dancing as well, switching partners just as quickly.
When the band finally took a break, Amanda found Julie. “This is fun,” she said. “But I need to get some air.”
“And I need to pee again. I’ll meet you by the front door in ten minutes.”
The parking lot was packed with vehicles, ninety percent of them pickup trucks. Amanda walked between two rows of trucks taking several deep breaths. In a few minutes, she was feeling better. She had just turned to walk back to the saloon when the hair on the back of her neck stood up and a chill ran down her spine.
One Hard Ride Page 14
