Ross: Riding Hard, Book 5

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Ross: Riding Hard, Book 5 Page 8

by Jennifer Ashley


  Heat pounded through her. The rising scent of brewing coffee seeped around them, making her imagine mornings waking to breakfast and Ross. He’d look good wrapped in nothing but early sunshine.

  One of Ross’s buttons slid from a hole, then another, and another. Callie spread the shirt, to find a body-hugging T-shirt beneath and that his heart was pounding as much as hers.

  Callie bunched her fingers in the T-shirt, wishing it gone so she could touch his skin. Ross ran his hands down her back, scooping her closer, cupping her backside.

  The coffeemaker beeped, its gurgle ceasing in a sigh of steam. Ross broke from Callie long enough to slam his hand to its off button and return to her.

  His eyes were dark, his chest rising with each harsh breath. He shrugged out of the unbuttoned shirt and enclosed her in his arms again, only the soft tee between them now.

  Callie wrapped herself around him, abandoning all for his kiss, letting worry and anger drift away. All that mattered was Ross, his warmth, his strong arms, his kiss easing everything bad in the world.

  When Ross lifted his head and looked at her, his eyes were filled with wanting, and hope. Callie gazed back at him, trying to convey the same hope. His bedroom was up a flight of stairs, and no one in the world knew where they were.

  Ross kissed her again. This time, their mouths met in slow deliberation, warm with passion. As another rumble of thunder rolled over the land, Ross slid his hand over Callie’s waist and cupped her breast.

  She was burning. He stroked with his palm, Callie’s nipple rising and tightening to his caress. She wore a satin bra under her thin shirt, and its fabric wasn’t nearly thick enough to keep Ross out. She felt every stroke of his fingers, the heat of his touch, the press of the heel of his hand as he continued to kiss her.

  Lightning flashed outside the windows, but it was nothing to the fire inside.

  Ross undid the three buttons at the top of Callie’s shirt. The buttons were mostly decorative but did part her collar enough so Ross could draw the shirt halfway down her arms.

  Callie laughed. “Let me,” she said, then before she could stop herself, she pulled the shirt up and off.

  Now she was sitting on the counter in Ross Campbell’s apartment in nothing but her jeans and a hot pink bra. Ross’s smile of appreciation warmed her all over.

  “You’re beautiful, Callie. You always have been.”

  Callie tried to shrug, to make a joke of it. Anything to keep him from seeing how much she wanted to shiver, or melt into a puddle, or launch herself at him again. “Nah. Evelyn is the beautiful one.”

  “Not where I’m standing.” Ross’s deep drawl was a caress.

  He cupped her cheek, thumb hot on her cheekbone. A moment later, he took a step back and skimmed off his own shirt.

  Callie allowed herself a slow, appreciative scan of his body. Ross obviously worked out—all the deputies went to the gym around the corner. His arms were darkly tanned from driving under bright skies all day, but the rest of him was a touch lighter, which would be comical if he weren’t so beautiful.

  Ross had never had the giant physique of the football players who’d wanted to date the Jones sisters and be homecoming king to their queen, but he had lean, compact tightness. His sculpted chest was dusted with black hair, his shoulders capped with muscle.

  He also wasn’t as tall as his four older brothers, but Callie did not find this a detraction. An asset, she thought, as she did not have to crane her neck to the breaking point to kiss him.

  Ross leaned his fists on either side of her. “I want to take you upstairs,” he said. “You all right with that?”

  Callie tried to answer, but her tongue wouldn’t work. She settled for a nod.

  Ross’s smile renewed her fires. Lightning flashed outside, followed immediately by a boom.

  “Close,” Ross said. He glanced at the police scanner and radio plugged in next to the coffee maker. If that lightning bolt had struck a house or car, he’d be called.

  The radio remained silent, a very low hiss the only clue it was on.

  Ross scooped Callie from the counter and against him. His next kiss stole her breath, and then Ross released her, snatched up their shirts in one hand, and led Callie to the stairs.

  * * *

  Callie was letting him take her up to his bedroom. Ross decided not to think too hard about that, because he’d do something stupid like shout in joy, do a fist pump, and probably fall down the stairs.

  She smiled at him, beautiful in the pink satin that held her ample breasts, her brown and gold hair coming loose from its ponytail. He remembered catching her in the rain, when her body had been embraced by the white satin bodice. He’d appreciated the rise of her curves then, and he couldn’t help sliding his hand over them now.

  The staircase, polished wood with wrought iron railings that he and Tyler had built together, had never seemed so long.

  The second floor loft consisted of his bedroom, with a bathroom behind a partition wall. Windows to the rear gave a view over the shorter buildings on the next street and out into the wide grasslands.

  As soon as they made it to the bedroom, Ross moved from Callie, dropped their clothes onto a chair, and pulled down all the blinds.

  She watched him with a look of amusement. But storm or no, Ross wasn’t having the whole town look up here and see Callie in her bra.

  He was glad he’d at least straightened the sheets and blankets on his bed, even if he didn’t have it neatly made and decorated with the throw pillows Grace had given him. Ross had a cleaner come in once a week, because he was never home, so at least everything was dusted and the floor vacuumed.

  Ross came back to Callie. Her smile vanished as he slid his arms around her and pulled her close.

  The crush of her breasts against him made his breath hitch. She was softness and curves, while he was angles and lines.

  He sought that softness, hands smoothing her waist down to her jeans then up to the strap of her bra. Callie touched him in return, exploring his chest, his shoulders, moving back to his flat nipples.

  They tightened as much as hers did, the tingle making Ross slightly crazy. The nerve endings reached his cock, which was hard and feeling confined.

  Her bra strap gave, the satin loosened, and Callie helped him slide it from her. She tossed it away with a little flourish that made him even harder.

  Ross drew her to him and twirled her in a tight circle, as though they danced to a band at the bar. Callie laced her arms around his neck.

  “You’re seducing me, Ross Campbell.” Her breath was hot on his cheek.

  “I think it’s the other way around.” Ross nuzzled her neck, inhaling the clean scent of her.

  “Really?”

  Her overjoyed tone made Ross raise his head. Callie’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’ve never seduced anyone before,” she said. “It’s kind of fun.”

  “You have me hooked.” Ross kissed where he’d nuzzled and gave her a nip. Her taste shot his need high. “Up in my bedroom and everything.”

  “It’s lovely. Nice view.” She waved at the closed blinds.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Ross stared blatantly at her breasts, bare now, nipples dark pink, darkening even more under his scrutiny.

  Callie laughed. “You’re a shit.”

  “That’s what they call me. Ross, you little shit.”

  “You aren’t so little.”

  “Not anymore.” Ross kissed her lips, leaning into her to cup her breasts.

  Satin softness met his touch. Ross wasn’t sure what either of them intended, if what they’d started would go all the way, and he didn’t care.

  He’d learned, since he’d become a deputy, to live in the moment. Every bit of concentration went into what happened now. Focus could be the difference between life and death.

  Ross turned that focus on Callie, kissing her as he opened the button of her jeans.

  Callie brushed his hand on the way to popping his belt buckle loose. “It really is big,
” she murmured.

  Ross started. “What?”

  Callie let out a laugh. “Didn’t you know all the girls in school wanted to measure your buckle?”

  Ross’s face heated, and his mouth went dry. “No.”

  Callie laughed harder, which moved her body in an enticing way. “Aw, you look so shy.”

  Shy? True, people said that about Ross because he was quiet—at least compared to his four loud, full-of-themselves brothers. But quiet was different from shy. Ross didn’t see the need to fill up space with his own words.

  “Think so?” he asked, his voice calm.

  Callie nodded, her smile wide. Ross ran fingers through her hair, pulling out the band that held her ponytail in place. He wound the satin of her hair around his hand and tugged her closer for another deep kiss.

  Callie’s teasing evaporated as she answered his kiss with a hard one of her own.

  The Will we? changed to We will.

  Ross released her with reluctance but only to jerk off his boots and unzip his pants. He mashed the jeans down his legs, stepping out of them, not worrying that he probably looked like an idiot in only his socks and tight boxer briefs. He was glad they’d left her purse downstairs, so she couldn’t whip out her phone and snap his picture. One share later, and he’d be a global fool.

  Callie gave him a once over, the interested look in her eyes telling him she didn’t think he looked like an idiot.

  She was an eyeful with one arm folded across her bare stomach, a posture that lifted her full beasts. Sending him a coy look, she cocked one hip and slid down the zipper of her jeans.

  Ross was against her in an instant, helping her push down the pants, his hands going into her underwear to seek her bare backside. The power of the moment wrapped around them, and all joking ceased.

  A burst of lightning blared through cracks in the blinds, followed by a long, never-ending rumble. The lightning had been so bright that its absence made his bedroom all the darker.

  In that instant, Callie slid off her shoes and kicked out of her jeans and her panties, which were pink to match her bra, everything falling into a pool of fabric.

  Ross gathered her in his arms, turning her in their dance toward the bed, lowering her onto it. Callie leaned back on her elbows on the mattress, the most glorious sight his bedroom had ever known. Beautiful Callie, naked on his covers, her hair mussed, her blue eyes watching.

  Some humor in the situation returned as Ross made a mad dash for the bathroom and scrabbled in the drawer for the box of condoms that should be there. He found one, did a quick check of the expiration date, and raced back out.

  Callie was trying not to laugh at him. She’d raised one foot to brace it on the bed, unconsciously giving him a view of the glory to come.

  How Ross got out of his underwear, he didn’t know, but it was flying to the floor the moment before he put one knee on the bed and came over Callie. He eased her down into the mattress and dropped the foil-wrapped condom beside her.

  “Aren’t you going to put that on?” she asked in puzzlement.

  “Not yet.”

  Ross didn’t want this encounter to be wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. He wanted to savor her, draw it out, create memories of her for after she was gone.

  He kissed her as he came down on her, his very hard cock resting between her thighs. She ran her hands through his hair, giving him her lovely Callie smile.

  “Wow,” she said softly. “I’m really here with Ross Campbell. How did I get so lucky?”

  Chapter Nine

  How did I get so lucky? Callie’s face heated at the stupid line, but Ross’s eyes warmed.

  “I was thinking the same about you,” he said.

  Callie touched his face. Ross turned his head and kissed her palm, fanning the fires already scorching her.

  When she’d been growing up Ross had been a sexy Campbell, forbidden fruit, who worked in the dust and fell off horses with his brothers for fun. The wild Campbell boys, every girls’ parents warned. Stay away from them. You never know what they’ll do.

  One of them had enticed her into his loft… only ten miles from her home, though it might as well be a world away.

  They gazed at each other for a long moment, and then past and future didn’t matter. The present was all-encompassing.

  Ross kissed her slowly. He drew his hand between her breasts, ran a finger around her navel, and slid his touch between her thighs.

  Callie ignited. Liquid heat flowed from her, drawn by his hand. She moved on the bed, her thoughts scattered, replaced by sensation alone.

  She rose to him, needing him. A groan escaped her—she’d never made a noise like that before. She thought she’d experienced orgasms in her life but soon realized that she’d only ever touched the tip of the iceberg.

  Ross’s fingers found the places that opened her, seared her. Her head went back, and she cried out as white heat blotted all other feeling. She knew nothing but wildness and Ross, as lightning flashed and thunder boomed.

  Dimly she heard the rustle of foil, felt the absence of his hand. She wanted his touch back, heard herself beg for it.

  The condom brushed her, but its coolness gave way as Ross filled her.

  He stilled as he slid inside, opening her wider than she’d ever been in her life. He gazed down at her with eyes that held the same desire that seized her.

  “Ross.” Her voice was dry.

  “Callie,” came his whisper in return. “What you do to me …”

  He thrust. Callie arched to take it, and another wave of fire flooded her. Her cries echoed through the loft and spilled down the stairwell to the space below.

  Ross let out a groan that matched hers in volume. He thrust again, then rhythm took over, and they moved with it, Callie drowning in pleasure.

  Thunder drowned out their cries, and hailstones hit the roof and the windows, beating hard, trying to get in. Lightning lit the room, showing her Ross in stark brightness, the reflection of him in the long mirror next to the stairs. She saw his tight body, the rise and fall of his hips, his arms bunched as he took his weight.

  In the next instant, the room went dark. Callie knew nothing but Ross inside her, the warmth of his body on hers, his kisses on her face.

  Nothing but Ross. She wrapped herself around him as he continued to thrust, let feeling engulf her, and needed nothing else.

  * * *

  A long time later, Ross woke. He felt heavy, every molecule relaxed, his body sinking deep into the mattress.

  He remembered the white hot sensation of coming inside Callie, the sound of her cries filled with joy, her fingers hard on his back. They’d rocked together for long while before Callie had collapsed, limp, her eyes heavy, her smile languid.

  Ross had managed to get rid of the condom, then they’d drowsed together, touching and kissing. He’d tried to stay awake and enjoy every second, but sleep had smacked him and taken him down.

  He stretched out his arm … and found only a warm indentation where Callie had been.

  Alarmed, he rose on his elbows and scanned the room.

  Callie turned to him from the foot of the bed, in the act of doing up the tiny buttons on her shirt. Outside, it was quiet, the storm having moved on. Sunlight poked through the blinds, its slant indicating the long summer day drawing to a close.

  “Hey,” Ross said.

  Callie finished buttoning. “Hey.”

  “It’s still early,” he said. “I think. How about we grab some dinner?”

  “Ross.”

  God help him, she was going to break up with him. Let him down easy. Walk away, out of his life.

  No! Something inside him shouted. Don’t let her!

  “Ross, what?” he growled.

  Callie let out a breath, sorrow in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want this to be …” Another breath. “You know, rebound sex.”

  Ross made a nonchalant gesture, though his heart was pounding like crazy. “Why does it have to be anythi
ng?”

  Callie hesitated. “Because it was great, for one thing. Seriously … great.” She flushed, and Ross’s heart warmed. He didn’t want it to be wham, bam, thank you, sir, for her either. “But I don’t want to hurt you,” she went on in a rush. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault. I don’t want to use you to get over it.”

  Pain bit him, and Ross gave another flick of his hand to cover the sting. “Use me. I don’t mind.” At her startled look, he forced a smile. “Callie, we don’t have to make this anything. If you’re trying to feel better—well, then, I hope I made you feel better. If we’re just having fun, then we’re having fun. It doesn’t have to mean the world changes.”

  She blinked. “You mean kind of like friends with benefits?”

  “Naw. That’s bullshit. You’re different with someone you’ve slept with, as hard as you try to deny that. I’m hoping this means we’re more than friends. Really close friends. But it doesn’t have to be a stifling thing. You don’t need that right now.”

  Callie swallowed, her nod quick. “You don’t need that either.”

  “I don’t know what I need,” Ross said calmly, though his breathing was way too fast for the conversation. “And I don’t know what this is. But I’m willing to hang around and find out.”

  “Are you?” She sounded surprised.

  “Sure. But I don’t want to do it by myself.” Ross moved to sit on the edge of the bed, feet on the floor. He was stark naked while Callie was clothed, and that was fine with him. He could wrap himself around her and maybe make her come while she was fully dressed.

  His cock jumped at the thought, and Ross rapidly thought about cold showers, snowballs, jumping into the ice tray in his freezer downstairs …

  He made himself shrug. “If this turns out to be nothing, then hey, we had a good time figuring it out. If it turns into something, then I want to be with you when we discover that.”

  Callie’s lips parted as he fed her these ideas. Ross knew he was leaving himself wide open for her to say she wasn’t interested, to thank him for the couple hours of fun and return to her world of riches and politeness, but he had to take a chance.

 

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