The Wildest Ride--A Novel

by Marcella Bell

  “So you’re a horse girl, then?” he wheedled.

  She bared her teeth. “Now that’s not what I said, at all. That’s what gave me the bug. The passion came later.”

  “You’re welcome to tell me anything you want to about your passion.”

  She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it.

  Grinning, he said, “Anything’s possible.”

  Rolling her eyes, she said pointedly and with heavy sass, “Not quite anything.”

  He laughed. “Are we making a wager?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “If I win...” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “You know you can’t win. It’s in my blood.”

  The most decorated rodeo champion in the world laughed. “On both sides, it sounds like.”

  She paused as if she really hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “You really don’t daydream about your cowboy daddy?” he asked, the surprise in his voice genuine.

  Looking away with a shrug, Lil projected forced nonchalance. “Only in the same way you think about what happens after you die. I gave up thinking I might find the answer one day. There are a lot of cowboys out there in the world. It gets exhausting searching faces and wondering.” Her voice was weary but not sad when she finished, and she had turned back to him, smiling with a new determination in her expression. “Now you know more of my dirty laundry. It’s time for you to do a little airin’ yourself. Tell me about your people.”

  AJ shrugged with a grin, keeping it simple. “I grew up in Houston. Joined CityBoyz when I was twelve and have been chasing rodeo ever since. That’s all there is to it.”

  “There’s more to the story than that.”

  “Not really. It’s been a pretty straightforward path for me.” He kept his grin in place, but behind it, he fought the rising urge to actually tell her his life story, as if genuinely opening up was something he did with other people.

  Some of it slipped out anyway, the words leaving his mouth without his permission. “My mom still lives in Houston, but I bought her a house in Piney Point.” He heard the boast for what it was, but it was something he’d never not be proud of. Buying his mom a house was making it, as far as he was concerned.

  “You’ve made a lot in prize money?” she asked.

  “I have. Made even more through investments.”

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a look that said she’d seen his kind before. “So why didn’t you just fund the program, then? Sounds like you could have carried it.”

  “The Old Man wouldn’t take my money.”

  She snorted. “Make it an anonymous donation.”

  AJ scoffed. Did she think he’d been born yesterday? Or that The Old Man had been for that matter? “He’d know.”

  “So instead this was your plan?”

  “He can’t refuse his own money.”

  Lil laughed and the sound skipped through his system.

  In the dancing firelight, the skin of her face and neck was buttery smooth. It glowed from a light from within, as if a small personal sun powered her core. The way she was willing to take anything and everything on, he half believed one did.

  She could ride and she knew her way around a nonprofit. She really would have been a great asset to CityBoyz. His instincts hadn’t failed him on that point. That they aberrantly continued to egg him on, pressing him to pursue her despite the fact that their lives were going in different directions, stood out only more for its contrast.

  “We should turn in,” he said. “We’ve got an early morning and a long day ahead of us.” He stood as he spoke, scanning for the most even patch of ground around the fire. Beside him, Lil nodded and came to her feet as well, but he waved her away. Surprisingly, she accepted his brush-off with ease, wandered off on her own, probably to pee, with only a faint stiffness to her step.

  The Closed Circuit had packed them both three-season rectangular sleeping bags that rolled up into the size of a small pillow.

  Rather than lay them side by side, though, he unrolled and unzipped them and then zipped them together to make one large sleeping bag. She wasn’t going to like it, but staying toasty warm through the night was the only way her body was going to have the resources to make up for their lost time tomorrow.

  21

  “We’re not sleeping like that.” Lil was proud of how steady and no-nonsense her voice came out. It certainly didn’t match anything going on inside.

  The fool had gone and zipped their sleeping bags together.

  She stood beside him, staring down at the bags.

  Without turning to her, he said, “We are. Heat is the only chance you have to recover in time for tomorrow. Our only chance at a decent score.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Right...”

  His head whipped around and he pinned her with a look that set off the roller coaster she’d been riding since they’d started the challenge. The man was too much.

  With an all-too-sensual curve in his lips, he said, “There won’t be any games when I get you in bed.”

  And then she was blushing again and thinking about their kiss again, and the night in her RV, and wanting more. Her throat felt thick and heavy, her nipples hard and sensitive.

  And here he was trying to share a sleeping bag.

  The man was insane. Honestly.

  “No way,” she repeated, her voice catching in her dry throat.

  “We lost a lot of time today. You need to be at your best tomorrow if we’re going to make it up. That means warm.”

  He wasn’t playing fair. It was like he was inside her, as if he knew exactly what buttons to push to secure her compliance. The one-two punch of guilt and cold competition wormed into her, working its magic until her resistance crumbled. It was completely reasonable to sleep together in the name of the competition. Rational even.

  “Fine. Clothes stay on.”

  He called her a prude and her laugh bubbled out without her permission. It was hard to hold on to stern around him.

  The laughter broke the tension of the moment, or at least that was what Lil told herself as she lowered herself to the ground. One of the sponsors had provided the contestants with long johns, and AJ tossed her hers. She slipped into the now-oversized sleeping bag and wiggled out of her jeans and into the long johns.

  AJ just took his jeans off where he stood, and Lil’s mouth went dry as she watched, knowing her eyes should be on anything else but him. He wore boxer briefs, cotton and plain-colored, just like the T-shirts he preferred. His well-muscled thighs were golden brown and smooth and she pictured running her tongue up the length of one toward the part of him so clearly outlined by the fit of his boxers.

  “My eyes are up here, Lilian.”

  Her cheeks flamed, and she looked away while he laughed, the damage already done.

  She snuggled down into the sleeping bag and turned to lie on her side. Lying, her body took the opportunity to voice its complaints over her earlier fall. Her head felt thick and heavy, far too large a burden for her tired neck to carry all night, which would mean she’d have a crick in it for the rest of the day challenge.

  Lil didn’t know what was worse: the soreness or her mental moaning and groaning about it. Whining like this, even in her own head, wasn’t her way.

  AJ slipping into the sleeping bag, however, chased away all complaints.

  She didn’t move, but it didn’t matter. The heat of his body reached out to caress her without an inch of their skin touching. Her breath caught, then started again, heavy and not subtle at all.

  He scooted closer, and her heart stuttered. He was going to spoon her. AJ Garza, the world’s greatest rodeo cowboy, was about to spoon her.

  He didn’t fully close the space between them, though. Simply slipped his arm between the ground and her head, undern
eath her neck. Lil sighed. With the simple movement, it was like the screws in her head had been loosened.

  He said, “Thought that might be more comfortable.”

  He smelled clean, like fresh cut grass and sheets drying in the sun and his body was a solid wall of warmth behind her. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to snuggle back into him and revel in the easy security she felt lurking beneath the surface.

  His breath was deep and even behind her and she wondered if he was asleep. They’d had a long day and he’d done more than his fair share for the last part of it. He’d be well within his rights to conk out.

  And completely oblivious to the tension that had her own body, abused as it was, feeling about as sleepy as a live wire.

  His grand warmth plan was backfiring spectacularly. There was no way she’d ever be able to sleep like this, head cradled on the arm of a man she’d been lusting after all day long. It was too much for anyone.

  He’d brought their kiss up enough that she knew he was open for more. All it’d take was a little scoot and neither one of them would be thinking about staying warm or sleeping.

  Her skin flushed and the thought crossed her mind that it might just be her destiny to be a human beet around him.

  But destiny didn’t have anything to do with the way her stomach clenched. It wasn’t the source of the electric awareness of her skin, or the heaviness of her breasts.

  Destiny was the ranch. Leaning in to sensation was her mother’s way.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there.” His words whispered across the back of her neck, deep, slow and ready for bed.

  She shivered, whispering back, “Thought you were asleep.” Her own voice came out more hoarse and weighted than usual, hinting of things she wasn’t inviting him to enjoy.

  At least not out loud.

  Out loud, she had a ranch to keep safe and a rodeo to win. But pulling her mind back to the competition wasn’t having quite the same dampening effect as it had earlier.

  “Do you see the stars?” he asked.

  Heat filled her core. The mere timbre of his voice was enough to set her off, it seemed. His words took a bit longer to get through, but when they did, it was her out.

  “I haven’t,” she said, carefully rolling onto her back—careful not to brush her body up against his, careful not to touch any more than they already were. He stayed where he was, lying on his side, his arm her pillow.

  Overhead, the sky sparkled like a child’s glitter art, the Milky Way a deep river of light slashing across the sky, roaring overhead, its current of stars thick and palpable, even from the earth.

  AJ was a radiator at her side and the sky overhead was made of diamonds, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so soft.

  She’d never been the type of girl to fantasize about romance, but if she had been, this moment would have been it.

  Minus the stampede.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he said.

  Turning her head slightly, she found his gaze on her and grinned. “Ancient, but it never gets old.”

  He ran a finger down the side of her cheek, almost absentmindedly, his expression taking on an openness in the moonlight that she’d never seen during the day. “There aren’t many things like that in the world.”

  His rough fingertip against her skin robbed her of breath, so Lil gave only a small shake of her head in response, pulled in by the gravity of his velvety brown eyes.

  Something was pretty, but it wasn’t the stars.

  Closing her eyes, she dragged her mind to counting sheep since thinking about AJ and the stars did not seem to lead down the path of sleep.

  Not when he was warm, right there, and willing. Not when the stars were good at keeping secrets...

  But that wasn’t her.

  She hadn’t even gone all the way with her longest boyfriend. Though in that case the timing and situation had never worked. Dorm mates coming home unexpectedly, lack of condoms, the occasion not feeling right...

  And then Granddad passed and that time of her life was over.

  Then it was all ranching and missing him. There hadn’t been room—or energy—left for men.

  “You’re not sleeping.” There was a smile in his voice, but Lil didn’t open her eyes to see it. “Your eyes are squeezed shut too tight.”

  Lil still didn’t open them, but said, “Might be if you weren’t gabbing away.”

  He chuckled softly and the sound wrapped around Lil, low, genuine, and silky—sound candy made for her pleasure alone.

  Her breath caught and she shivered, her breasts turning heavy and sensitive beneath the material of her shirt.

  He angled his body toward hers, almost imperceptibly, his muscles taking on a taut readiness that hadn’t been there moments before.

  He knew.

  He could tell she wanted him.

  Without looking at her face, he knew.

  The thought brought heat to her cheeks, but instead of hiding, she turned to face him.

  She might be transparent where he was concerned, but she wasn’t a coward.

  His eyes were hot and deep and she felt the now-familiar pull of them.

  His mouth lifted at the corners, but the smile was neither his usual mask nor the one she thought of as real.

  This one was all wicked teeth and the promise to consume and be consumed—to be entirely engulfed in his flame.

  He took her mouth in one smooth motion and like each kiss before, he devoured her. His body pressed tight against hers, only a thin layer of fabric separating them.

  Her hypersensitive nipples delighted in the pressure of his chest even as they strained to be closer, touching more, merged... She moaned into his mouth, and he used it as an opportunity to take even more.

  Her bones turned into gelatin, the air escaping her until all she could focus on was the point where their mouths met. She was melting. She had to be.

  She’d never been this warm before—bodies weren’t meant to burn like this, to be so hot. She tilted her hips against him, pressing her most intimate parts against him, unable to hold back the breathless sound that slipped free. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to run kisses down his neck.

  He kissed her ear, murmuring, “Despacito, Liliana.”

  His voice in Spanish was its own form of foreplay. It caressed through her system, leaving tiny kisses everywhere it went. He turned her name into a lyrical delicacy whose sweetness shot straight to her core when it passed through his lips.

  She sighed in his ear, whispering back, willing to be open and soft in another language, “Apurate, vaquero, he estado esperándote toda mi vida.”

  He groaned before uttering, “Lil, you’re killing me.” And his voice did sound pained, but he seemed eager for it, leaning in closer, pressing his face against her neck to take a deep breath.

  Lil reveled in the warmth of his skin against hers, hands eager and greedy for skin to skin contact.

  Again, his voice was low in her ear. “Lil, you’re going to burn me alive.”

  She was fine with burning alive as long as they went together. She kissed him everywhere her lips could reach, marveling at the perfection of his skin. His strength. He held her easily, even as she squirmed and arched against him.

  His chest was a wall of smooth brown muscle and heat. He didn’t have much body hair, just a light dusting of black curls at the top of his chest, separated from a small path of hair that started at his belly button and disappeared beneath his thermals by a gulf of impossible abs.

  He reached an arm down to his waistband and Lil followed the motion, mouth watering when he stopped short of pushing them down his hips, her lips taking on the unfamiliar shape of a pout.

  He smiled wickedly at her, saying, “Don’t worry, querida. I’m just giving you time to catch up. Yo
u’re overdressed over there.”

  She surprised herself by laughing, even as her fingers reached for the hemline of her shirt, pulling it over her head, followed quickly by her sports bra, until she was bare to him.

  His eyes feasted on her, slowly taking in every inch there was to see and leaving trails of fire along her skin wherever they went. She shivered, drawing him closer. He obliged, closing the distance between them and taking her into his arms, their bare chests pressing against each other.

  He held her there for a moment, lifting her off the ground slightly as his arms tightened around her. Sucking in a deep breath, he buried his face into her neck and sighed an exhale, and with the sound, something flipped over in her chest.

  He let her go slowly, lowering her back to the ground beneath him, keeping their bodies close enough that the hard peaks of her nipples brushed his chest the whole way, sending electric shocks straight to the fire between her legs.

  Her lips parted, and he took it as an invitation, bringing his hands up to gently cup the back of her skull and press his mouth to hers. The kiss started slow and soft, sweet and coaxing. And like he was the sun, and she a flower, she opened for him.

  As she did, he took more, his tongue making forays into her mouth while she pressed against him for more. His fingers wound their way into the remains of her braid while he plundered her mouth. She made little noises into their kiss and he groaned in response, pulling her tighter against him.

  His heat wound around the whole of her body, radiating from every place they touched—her breasts, hot and achy, pressed against his hard chest, his fingers working soothing magic on her aching head, the thrall of his lips. All of that heat, flowing through and around her like bright streams that pooled—hot, soft, and wet—at her most private center.

  She moaned into his mouth and he used one arm to scoop her up and change their position so that he sat on the sleeping bag with her on his lap, her legs on either side of him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his kiss deeper and they stayed like that until she was sure they’d become a single burning flame, threatening to burn up the bedding and all of the plains around them.