Big Chance Cowboy

by Teri Anne Stanley

  Lizzie: What else is going on?

  Adam: Are you trying to change the subject?

  Lizzie: Unless you want to talk about it.

  Adam: Change away.

  Lizzie: What are the dogs doing?

  Oh wow. That was dumb.

  Adam: Is that your version of “What are you wearing right now?”

  Lizzie:

  Adam: How did you do that? Lol is the extent of my text lingo.

  Lizzie: There’s a menu on your keyboard. I can show you later. So what are you wearing?

  Adam: You first.

  Lizzie: The same thing I had on the last time you saw me, minus the boots.

  Adam: Nice. Unless you want to switch that around and send me a picture.

  Her entire body heated. He wanted her to send him a naked picture of herself wearing boots? That was just…no. She found herself thinking about it anyway.

  Lizzie: That might be something better left to your imagination.

  Adam: I doubt it.

  He did know how to make her feel sexy.

  Lizzie: At least better left to naked eyes, not cell phone cameras.

  Nothing.

  And then her phone rang.

  “He—hello?”

  “Hey.” His voice was all gravelly.

  “Hey yourself.”

  “When can I get you naked again?”

  Her stomach clenched—along with other parts of her anatomy. “That’s very blunt.”

  “I’m not going to be around long enough to mess with fancy courtship crap.”

  She knew he meant to remind her that he was leaving Big Chance as soon he could, but it felt more…permanent.

  It felt final.

  Chapter 24

  Almost a week later, Lizzie hit Adam’s number and waited.

  They’d spoken or texted several times since the Fourth, though she’d been so busy with real estate business, she hadn’t been to the ranch. Each time she heard from him, she was pleasantly surprised that he wanted to talk to her.

  “Hey.” There was a little upswing on the end of the “hey,” telling Lizzie that Adam was glad to hear from her.

  “Are you busy?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” That was teasing. Her gruff, withdrawn soldier was teasing her.

  She was out of breath and hadn’t even gotten to the good part. She rushed on. “I’m working on my proposal for the mayor, and I want to take more pictures at Mill Creek, but to be honest, I’m a little too creeped out to go back there alone, knowing those dogfighting guys might show up.”

  “If you want to get me alone, all you have to do is say so,” Adam told her.

  “Oh! No. I mean, yes, but not—I don’t—” Grr. She did kind of want to be alone with him. Correction: she really wanted to be alone with him. One world-record orgasm, and her brain was completely scrambled. All she could think about was having more orgasms with Adam. Soon. It had only been a few (long, lonely) days since Saturday night, and already, she was addicted.

  “What time? Now?” he asked.

  “Is it too early? It’s only going to get hotter later.”

  “We’re in Texas in July. When is it not hot?” He laughed. “Now works for me. How about you? Do you want me to meet you there?”

  “Um, yes…it would be great if you’d meet me there, and yes, I want to go now.”

  Vibrations from his chuckle ran down her spine. Now might not be soon enough.

  But it wasn’t just about the possibility of sex. She desperately wanted to tell Adam her news, wanted to know what he thought. Even though he said he couldn’t wait to get out of Big Chance, he’d listened to her ideas about the park and hadn’t told her she was stupid or ridiculous.

  “Okay. I’ve got to finish up a couple of things here, and I’ll be there in…twenty minutes?”

  She drove to the farm as slowly as she could, not wanting to seem too eager, but there wasn’t much to slow her down. She’d already put a blanket in the trunk, filled her cooler with cans of lemonade, and there were condoms in her purse.

  She should calm down. She’d already been up against the Dairy Queen wall with her dress around her waist, and that had been amazing. Spontaneous, in a twelve-years-in-the-making sort of way. This was planned. She was going to meet Adam, and they were going to hopefully, probably, have sex. In the daylight. Where all his perfect muscles and bronzed skin would be visible, and all her lumps and bumps and—no. You’re done with all that. Done.

  Still, by the time she crept out to Mill Creek Road and eased down the lane, she’d only managed to spend fifteen of her twenty minutes.

  When she topped the rise that overlooked the farmyard, there was already a vehicle parked there. A white truck with a bumper sticker that read “Freedom Isn’t Free” and a long, tall cowboy in an army T-shirt leaning on the lowered tailgate, smiling at her.

  She couldn’t help but notice the cooler in the back of the truck and a sleeping bag conveniently laid out on the bed.

  Would he laugh if she asked him if he had condoms in his purse, too?

  She didn’t get the chance, because she’d barely turned the ignition off before he’d opened her car door and pulled her out and into his arms. All her self-doubt and insecurities fled, because when he looked into her eyes, she felt the way he saw her and knew he liked it.

  He held her gaze for a moment, but then he smiled, leaned in, and kissed her. Softly. Sweetly. So gently she would have thought she might not feel it, but for the way the warmth of his lips against hers stirred her senses.

  “Do you know how glad I am that you called?” he asked after pulling back and looking into her eyes again.

  She felt his lower body press into hers. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

  He laughed. “Yeah. Well.”

  “I’m pretty glad to see you, too.”

  They were both quiet for a moment, smiling at each other, safe in the knowledge that they were on the same page, together.

  “So, uh, do you want to take your pictures and stuff now?” Adam asked.

  Oh yeah. That was technically why she’d come out here, wasn’t it? She hadn’t taken many shots the last time, because she’d found Loretta and the puppies. What she really wanted to do was to climb into the back of that truck and have her way with Adam, even if the ninety-five-degree morning would be magnified by sun and a steel truck bed.

  But work first. She nodded. “Yeah, let’s do pictures. Can we walk down toward the creek? I got the building and the hole in the ground last time.”

  They both looked toward the burned-out basement.

  “Have you heard anything from the police?”

  “When I first called the sheriff’s office, a detective told me they knew there was dogfighting in the area, but every time they tried to bust a location, the ring had moved on. They said they’d patrol out here a little more, though.”

  “Should we tell them about Clint?”

  He scratched his head. “Yeah, but I was hoping he’d call me—I gave him my number but didn’t get his. I’d like to have a little more information before I talk to them again.”

  “I hope Clint calls you soon, then.”

  They reached a break in the fence line, where there would be access to the creek, but the closed gate was overgrown with brambles. Insects buzzed within the steamy tangle of branches, anxiously waiting for new victims. Lizzie’s arms and legs itched just thinking about climbing through there. “Ick.”

  Adam didn’t hesitate. “Hang on a minute,” he told her, then turned and jogged back toward his truck.

  It wasn’t at all difficult to stand there admiring the way his body moved until he reached the truck and returned to her with…was that… “A scythe?”

  “Yep.”

  “You just happen to carry around weapons of
mass destruction?”

  “If I’m hunting weeds, I do. We were clearing out some space behind the barn yesterday. Stand back.” He proceeded to whack the hell out of the tangled branches and ivy, which also wasn’t unpleasant to watch. In no time at all, he’d forged a mercifully short path to the other side.

  “After you, fair maiden,” he said, opening the gate and making a grand sweeping motion with his hand.

  “Oh my. Aren’t you fancy?”

  “Yeah, I’m a real prince.”

  She didn’t comment, just gave him her best under-the-eyelashes look and made sure to brush up against him when she walked past.

  The air seemed to get easier to breathe when they reached the shade of the trees. Water burbled through stretches of wide, rocky creek bed, interrupted here and there by deeper, still pools. A frog, startled by their approach, leapt into the water and disappeared in the depths.

  “It’s beautiful,” she sighed.

  Adam didn’t answer, so she turned to him for confirmation—but he was staring at her. “Yeah,” he said. “It is.”

  A not-unpleasant heat burned her cheeks and warmed her tummy. She didn’t know what to say, so she took the smart aleck way out. “You don’t have to butter me up. I’m already a sure thing.” She stepped toward him, but he backed up, holding up a hand.

  “While I appreciate the sentiment—believe me, I do appreciate it—I’m a little sweaty.”

  “Hmm.” She certainly wasn’t bothered by a little good clean sweat, but he clearly was. She gently dropped her things onto the grassy bank. Reaching out for his hand, she said, “Well then, why don’t you get cleaned up?” And she tugged him after her, toward the gurgling stream.

  * * *

  “Wait a minute,” Adam protested as Lizzie took first one, then another step onto the slippery, mossy stones below the surface of Mill Creek. He followed her anyway but felt obliged to say, “I don’t think this is really—Aaaah!” He cried out as his feet went out from under him and his hand slid free of Lizzie’s grasp.

  But when he landed, he barely noticed the big rock digging into his ass as the cool water hit his steaming skin.

  “Oh no! Are you okay?” Lizzie didn’t seem as concerned as her words might have suggested, especially when she splashed down next to him and grinned.

  “I’m glad I left my phone in the truck.” Even though it was already soaked, he pulled off his T-shirt and threw it to dry land.

  Lizzie kicked her feet, sending a spray of water into the air and onto herself. Her wet top clung very nicely to her breasts, revealing the lace of her bra through the thin fabric. “Isn’t this awesome?” she asked.

  His mouth suddenly dry, he tried to answer her. “Uh-huh.”

  She caught him looking and laughed. She splashed water at him.

  “Oh no.” He smacked the surface of the water to return fire. “You don’t want to mess with the master.”

  She raised one perfect eyebrow. “Ooh, I think maybe I do.”

  He cracked up, but instead of a splash, he got a flash of her creamy skin as she peeled that barely there top off and tossed it toward the bank, followed by her bra. It was good he was already sitting in the water, because she had a knack for keeping him off-balance.

  “Jesus, Lizzie,” he croaked as she rose onto her knees, water streaming down her bare skin. Her breasts were perfect. He’d touched and tasted the other night, but he hadn’t looked. Now, he looked. Rosy nipples and full, creamy breasts rested above the golden tanned arms she wrapped around her waist against his perusal. He took her hands and tugged, urging her to reveal herself to him. Such a contradiction, this woman. So generous and giving and sure of her purpose—so insecure.

  “You’re so damned beautiful.”

  She was. Not just her body, which he loved, but the rest of her. Those big brown eyes narrowed slightly with doubt, but then, biting her bottom lip, she exhaled and relaxed, apparently deciding to accept his admiration.

  He held her gaze and put her hands on his shoulders, then reached for her hips, urging her closer until she straddled his thighs.

  He cupped her face, loving the way she leaned into his touch. He caressed the soft skin at her waist, then skimmed the sides of her breasts. He tried to savor this perfect moment, but the need growing in him was so strong, he was afraid he’d lose this sweet gentle thing between them if he gave in to it fully.

  He had to kiss her, had to share the exact same air she breathed. Slowly, their lips met, finding each other, tasting, teasing. Tongues brushing. Her breath stuttered—or was that his?

  She pulled away, no longer self-conscious, and raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” he asked.

  “This.” She scooted back a few inches and reached for the fly of his jeans, which was about to rip from the erection trying to fight its way to freedom. She struggled with the button, biting her lip with consternation at the water-logged denim. He leaned back on his hands, the sight of her golden head bent to her task giving him a jolt, leaving him paralyzed and waiting for the next thing. Which was the lowering of his zipper, followed by tugging at the fabric until he was free.

  She looked up at him again, and his entire body buzzed with anticipation. She smiled, holding his gaze while she lowered her mouth to him, sexier than he’d ever imagined. The first touch of her tongue sent an electric jolt through his balls, up his spine, short-circuiting his brain as he gave himself over to her attention.

  Oh God. She took him in as far as she could and used her hands where she couldn’t, still looking at him, which was the hottest thing ever. Sensation pulsed through every cell of his body, and he knew he wasn’t going to last. He couldn’t. He should warn her that he was about to—

  He groaned. She stayed with him as well as she could, until he eased out of her mouth while she stroked him through the final, fading contractions of his release. She smiled and leaned forward to press against him while they both caught their breath. Fortunately, they were in a fairly shallow section of the creek.

  Her naked breasts against his bare abdomen made catching his breath difficult, as did the way she traced her fingers over his shoulder and down his arm. He caressed her in return for about five seconds before he had to have more.

  “I want you. Go over there.” He pointed to the grassy creek bank.

  Her shocked expression was almost comical. “You don’t have to—I mean—”

  “I told you before, time is too short to beat around the bush.”

  She snorted. “That’s an interesting metaphor.”

  He shook his head. “God save me from college girls who paid attention in English class.” But he loved that she was so damned smart. It turned him on. “Get over there so I don’t drown when I put my face between your legs.”

  “Oh.” Something happened to her eyes then. Her pupils dilated, and her eyelids lowered.

  His blunt speech turned her on. “Get over there,” he directed with a chin jerk. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t remember your name.”

  She scrambled back then, splashing when she lost her balance on the slippery rocks. He laughed at her eagerness but rose more slowly, tucking himself back in as he yanked his jeans up and followed her to the edge of the creek. Instead of stepping onto the dry grass, she toppled forward and landed on her hands and knees.

  He groaned at the sight of her fine, curvy ass and wanted those shorts off her. He imagined getting her naked, holding onto those hips as he pounded into her from behind. Christ, he was getting hard again.

  She turned to look at him over her shoulder and gave him a sly smile. “Are you coming, Mr. Bushwhacker?”

  He snorted and advanced on her—screw the slipping and sliding. “I think one of us is going to be coming really soon.”

  With a giggle, she crawled a few feet up the bank, but he caught her and flipped her over. Pinning her with h
is heavier body, he kissed the hell out of her until she was panting. He moved lower to worship those breasts, licking and kissing and nipping until she squirmed.

  As much as he thought he could spend the rest of his life worshiping her nipples, there was something else he wanted his tongue on. He moved lower still, to kiss her belly just above the button on her shorts.

  He tucked his fingers in the waistband on either side of the fly, finding elastic at her hip—another thong? “Undo ’em.”

  She obeyed with fumbling fingers, and when she finally got it, he yanked both shorts and thong down and off in one almost-smooth move. Well, if her foot was still in one side, at least she wouldn’t have to look too hard to find them when it was time to get dressed.

  If it was ever time to get dressed. Because there below him, her legs wedged apart by his body between them, lay sweet, glistening heaven.

  Not looking up, he said, “I didn’t shave today, and you’re going to have beard burn, but you’ll learn to like it.” He lowered himself until he could taste her desire. He broke away, looked into her eyes, and said, “Damn, you’re sweet.”

  Her gasp and the squirm of her hips let him know he’d once again surprised her—in a good way.

  He slid his fingers into her—one, then two into the slick heat. She clenched around him, writhing for more. So he gave her more. Her hands in his hair urged him on.

  He lowered his mouth again until her legs began to twitch and shake around his ears. He ran his free hand along her torso, cupping a breast firmly, finding the nipple with his fingers and teasing until she came with a cry. Her body contracted around his fingers, again and again and again, flooding his senses with her release and nearly sending him off in his jeans.

  “I want more,” she growled when her thighs finally relaxed and he began to slide his fingers free.

  “I’m gonna give you more, but I need my hand back to get a condom.”

  She laughed, spreading her arms and legs on the grass in a gesture of surrender. “Hurry. I’m dying here.”

  He did, rising to his knees, shoving his jeans down. And as soon as he had himself covered, he moved over her and into her, and they both experienced more.