Cowboy Daddy

by Hannah McBride

  “Frank!” She cried out, her voice sounding hoarse from all the persistent moans and whimpers. “FRANK!”

  “Yeah…yeah, that’s it bitch,” he grunted as he felt the pleasure shoot right down his spine, all the way down his legs and to the tips of his toes, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

  He wasn’t sure whether she was cumming too, but whether or not she did, she always made it seem as though she was, and that made Frank feel good.

  She screamed his name and practically screamed the whole goddamn house down, scratching at his back and continuing to cling to him, her heels digging into his butt cheeks. And she felt so wet and juicy down there; he was positive he’d brought her to a finish.

  He gradually slowed down his thrusts, breathing heavily, his whole body feeling like it was covered in a film of sweat. It had been a hot, balmy evening that night, and their activity hadn’t helped matters. He felt as though he’d lost a couple of pounds doing that.

  “Oh my God,” she panted, leaning up and kissing at his shoulder, her eyes still closed in heavenly bliss. “That was amazing…”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “It was pretty damn good.”

  He collapsed on top of her and rested his head down on the pillow to the side of hers, the cool fabric helping to absorb some of the heat from his skin. “Goddamn, you wore me out,” he mumbled.

  “Me too…” She sighed happily and began to stroke his back where she’d been scratching him some seconds earlier.

  His cock was still inside her, twitching slightly and emptying the last of his seed deep into her. Thank God she couldn’t get pregnant. That would be a hassle neither of them needed.

  He slowly pulled out and rolled off her completely, lying to the side next to her.

  She slid her arm around his waist and cuddled up close as she always did right after sex. It was the only time they were ever actually intimate with one another; the only time they kissed or cuddled.

  He leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her forehead. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, I needed that.”

  “Me too.”

  She yawned a bit and sat up, stretching her long slender arm over to the bedside table and picking up her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She loved a good smoke after sex, and he couldn’t say he objected either. Somehow, it always tasted better when you’ve given yourself something of a workout.

  He reached out and stole one off her direct from the pack, sticking it into his mouth. She lit it for him and he had a drag, then she lit her own and plumped up the pillows a bit, sitting next to him in bed, the two of them silently smoking for a while.

  “So,” she eventually said. “What do you want me to do about this little problem of ours?”

  He raised an eyebrow and reached out to flick some ash into the tray on his bedside table, then took another drag and slowly blew out the smoke before speaking. “Do what you do best, sugar…lie, cheat, cover things up, look after whoever looks after you, i.e. me, and if in doubt…spread those sexy legs.”

  Chapter Three

  Jamia’s alarm blared repeatedly, waking her reluctantly from her deep slumber that she never seemed to get enough of despite attempting to get to bed early most nights. Last night had been something of an exception though. It wasn’t every evening she ended her shift by flirting with one of the customers.

  She couldn’t help but smile to herself a little as she got up and stumbled into the shower to wake her up a bit, remembering everything that had happened between her and that guy…Tyler. She remembered his first name but couldn’t remember his second. Thankfully, he’d given her his number just in case. Not that she was going to call it. Sure, he was good looking, charming, and rich. That was probably enough to win over most girls. But money didn’t matter to Jamia, and she didn’t have time in her life to have to deal with the hassle of having a boyfriend. She was perfectly happy being single, and far too busy. Working three jobs during the week and two on a weekend wasn’t exactly the dream life she’d had in mind, but it paid the bills, fed her and allowed her to save enough to be able to afford a place at college eventually. Hopefully. Sure, sometimes she had to go without the occasional meal when she was struggling, but it was worth it. It would be worth it; in the end.

  Getting out of the shower and into her Saturday work clothes, she fished around in the pockets of her outfit from the previous evening to empty out change and gum, and found the folded up receipt Tyler had given her. She unfolded it and looked at the name and number.

  Tyler Preston.

  Now that she was here in her home in the cold light of day, there was something about that name that seemed oddly familiar, and not just because it was the name of the guy who’d tried to get her into bed last night.

  She shrugged it off and quickly got dressed, then headed off to work.

  Monday to Friday 7am to 10am she worked a cleaning job, then 11am till 5pm she had a shift in a book shop, then at six till midnight she’d start her shift in the bar. On Saturday’s, she’d work in the bookshop from 9am to 5pm, then the bar in the evening, and on Sunday’s she’d only do the bar shift.

  It was tough graft, and it meant she hardly got any time off or to herself, but she’d made her decision when she turned her back on her family. She wanted to make a go of things on her own, earn her own way in life, and save up for her course – to follow her dream. And that was why she didn’t have any time for a boyfriend.

  The city was lively and bustling as she set off on the short twenty minute walk to the bookshop. She always walked there, but drove to the bar, as it was right the other side of the city and took too long to walk. It had almost got to the point where she’d had to sell her car but so far, she’d managed to hold onto it.

  She stopped off at her usual place to pick up a coffee and a pastry for breakfast. It was the one treat she allowed herself each day. She usually skipped lunch, then she would eat for free at the bar just before starting her shift. The food was pretty good there, and they served until 10.

  As she was walking past a news stand selling the morning papers, something about the one of the headlines caught her eye.

  Preston.

  Of course! That was where she’d heard Tyler’s name before. There was some kind of case going on. His family were quite the talk of the town at the moment.

  She didn’t bother with buying a newspaper because, well, that’s just an extra expense she didn’t need in her life. Instead, she took out her phone and, with one hand while she was still sipping her coffee with the other, looked up ‘Tyler Preston’ on the internet.

  The case came up almost immediately, and within a few seconds she was reading all about the way his father was found murdered, his throat slit from behind. Whoever had done it hadn’t even attempted to cover it up or pass it off as accidental or a suicide; they’d just left him like that, sat in his chair in the office, ready to be discovered the next morning by one of the cleaners.

  It was gruesome, and Jamia loved it.

  When she got to work at the bookshop, she loaded up more details on the computer and spent most of the morning reading them in between serving customers. The bookshop was a nice, easy, pleasant job like that. When she wasn’t serving, she could read some of the books, or go on the computer. Her boss was very relaxed and easygoing about it.

  She read as much about the Preston family as she could, finding the whole thing fascinating. It didn’t make her any more attracted to Tyler, although obviously he was good looking, but it did make her slightly more tempted to ring him up, if only so she could find out more of the details direct from the horse’s mouth so to speak.

  She spent the whole day mulling it over and, when she got back, picked up the phone. She told herself that was the only reason she was ringing him, because she was interested in the case. It was entirely true, but she believed it for the time being.

  ***

  Tyler honestly wasn’t expecting her to call. After how things had gone the previous night, that didn
’t normally follow with a phone call. He either won them or lost them then and there on the night, and Jamia, he definitely thought he’d lost. After all, she didn’t come home with him. If they didn’t come home with him, he pretty much wrote them off.

  So it was definitely a surprise to get the phone call later that evening.

  It was a Saturday, so Tyler had been doing nothing all day. Well, that was what he normally did anyway, but on a Saturday even more so. He spent the entire day in his onesie, on the couch, playing video games and eating popcorn and pizza, and drinking beer. It was great.

  He almost didn’t answer the call at all. He generally didn’t, when a number came up that he didn’t already have saved in his phone. He got a lot of spam callers and, these days, an awful lot of journalists ringing up to ask his views on the ongoing investigation, or distant family members he never saw or spoke to or cared about ringing to ask how he was ‘holding up’.

  He stared at the number on his screen for a good while, but for some reason, he didn’t feel anxious or apprehensive at the sight of it. He had a positive feeling about this call and he hit answer, pressing the phone to his ear.

  Perhaps it was a sign, or fate, or something.

  “Is that Tyler?”

  “It is,” he replied, recognizing the voice from somewhere.

  “Oh hey, it’s Jamia. We met last night.”

  Tyler’s heart did a little flip. It was Jamia! She sounded calm, confident, and casual. He did his best to sound the same. She was just a chick he was going to get in his bed, like any other. No big deal. No reason to be nervous.

  “Uh…hey Jamia.”

  For some reason, that didn’t come out as cool and collected as he wanted.

  “How are you?” he continued.

  “Yeah, I’m good, just got back from work, about to head out to the bar.”

  “You really do work all the time, huh?”

  “Yep. I did tell you this.”

  He hesitated, quickly mulling this over. She’d rang him. That meant she was still interested. He still had a chance. He had to pursue this while the chance was there and not let it slip away again.

  “So…when do you get time off then?”

  “Not very often.”

  “How do you go out on dates?”

  “Still at the flirting, I see…” He heard her chuckle on the other end of the phone, her pretty voice filling his ears and making him smile.

  “Always,” he murmured.

  “Well, the short answer is, I don’t.”

  “And the long answer?”

  “If I did want to go out on a date, I’d have to ask for a night off from the bar or swap some shifts around so I worked the afternoon shift on a Sunday, for example, instead of starting at 6 like I usually do.”

  “Ah, so it is possible.”

  “Yeah, it is possible.”

  Tyler smiled to himself, feeling a plan forming. “In that case, you should do that tomorrow, and let me take you out tomorrow evening.”

  “Oh, should I?”

  “Yes. Yes, you should.”

  “Well, we’ll see. Maybe I will. I’ve got your number now, and you’ve got mine.”

  “Yeah, there’s no escaping me now,” Tyler joked.

  Jamia laughed again. “Don’t expect the evening to end up with me in your bed though,” she warned. “That’s not how I roll.”

  “It’s not? Why are you agreeing to go on a date with me then?”

  “Because you’re interesting. There’s something about you. Why would you agree to go on a date with me, knowing that I’m not just gonna…leap into bed with you?”

  “Because…” Tyler hesitated, frowning slightly. He wasn’t actually sure. He chewed his lip and tried to think it over. “Well, because I’m still not convinced you won’t.”

  She laughed a little. “Alright then, big shot. Still don’t believe in romance.”

  He paused again, then murmured hotly down the phone, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Maybe you can teach me.”

  Now it was her turn to pause, and instantly he knew he had the upper hand again. When she finally did speak, her voice sounded rushed and slightly out of breath. “Maybe I can.”

  “So is it a date then?” He asked, keeping the volume low, as if the pair of them were about to be overheard. It was obviously turning her on so he was going to keep right on doing it.

  “Uh…yeah uh…I’ll speak to my boss tonight about switching shifts but I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’s pretty flexible like that. I’m a hard worker.”

  “I bet you are,” whispered Tyler, still flirting, his dirty mind thinking of other areas she could be a hard worker in. “Just…text me and let me know, yeah?”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  “Good. I’ll be thinking of you. All night. All day tomorrow.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “I will. “

  “And you say you’re not romantic…” He could hear the smile in her voice.

  “What can I say…” he shrugged to himself. “Maybe you bring out the romantic in me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” she replied huskily, her turn to turn on the charm. “Goodbye Tyler.” And with that, she hung up, without giving him chance to reply.

  Damn.

  Damn, that girl was smoking hot.

  Tyler grinned to himself and saved the number in his phone. Yeah, she was definitely something else. Not like the usual bimbos he bedded. She was smart, sassy and sexy. It was a spicy combination, and one that was already addictive. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d think of her all night and all day. It was partially true. Although he carried on his usual business of lazing around, she was constantly either at the back or the forefront of his mind; he couldn’t help it.

  ***

  Jamia was surprisingly excited about the date too. Even though she’d told herself she didn’t have time for a boyfriend, and that she wasn’t really that into Tyler anyway. She certainly wasn’t into rich playboy types, and that was exactly what he seemed like. He probably even had a yacht. Still, she was excited. She’d enjoyed their flirtatious conversation in the bar on Friday evening, even though Tyler’s chat up lines had been cheesy and tired. He was kind of fun with it, and she got the impression there was a little more to him than what met the eye. Jamia had always been good at reading people, and Tyler was an interesting one. Especially now that she knew what had happened to his father. It must have upset him in some way, traumatized him even. She wondered whether she could get him to open up and discuss it.

  When she arrived for her shift at the bar that evening, she ordered herself something to eat from the kitchen then went over to have a word with her boss while she waited for it to get cooked, still ten minutes until she was due to start. She asked if she could switch her shifts tomorrow and work in the afternoon instead, apologizing that it was so last minute but that something had come up. He wasn’t happy about it, but he said he’d see what he could do, and he went off to talk to a couple of the other staff members.

  Five minutes later, he came back to announce that he’d managed to sort things out, and that she was now working the afternoon shift instead of the evening one.

  Happy, she finished off her food and got to work serving customers, finding a couple of minutes downtime to take out her phone and text Tyler, letting him know they were definitely on for their date the following evening.

  ***

  Sunday evening at six o’clock found Tyler sat in the agreed bar, drinking a bottle of beer and anxiously looking at his phone.

  He’d actually got there too early, but he didn’t care. He preferred to be early rather than late, especially on dates. It gave him time to suss out the place and get a drink to calm his nerves. Not that he went on many dates. Like, ever. All he ever did these days was one night stands. The last time he went on a proper date was back in college. This was a real rarity and he was almost beginning to wonder why he was doing it in the first place. What the hell was so special ab
out Jamia anyway?

  He glanced around the bar at the other clientele. It wasn’t his ideal choice. Jamia had chosen it, with the two of them having agreed that she could choose the meeting place and initial drinking hole, if he could choose the restaurant.

  It was a bit of a dive and not his usual upper class place but then again, he would literally go anywhere as long as it served alcohol, and it fit his usual requirements. It was lively and had a good atmosphere. It would do the job. They didn’t serve cocktails, but so what, it was still alcohol at the end of the day. He peeled off the label on his beer bottle and scrunched it up into pieces while he waited, jigging his leg up and down.

  He was sat on a high up table near the window, so that he could look out for who was coming and going, as well as keep his eye on the other people in the bar. He enjoyed people watching; it was fun.

  The music wasn’t too bad; dirty low down old school blues stuff, with a bit of jazz thrown in. It suited the atmosphere of the place, and was probably better for talking than a noisy bar that played pop or club music. He imagined that was why Jamia chose it, and also because it meant a nice change from the place she worked in.

  She arrived at about five past six.

  He supposed it was what people called ‘fashionably late’, and certainly, he didn’t mind, but it had made him start to wonder whether she was going to show at all.

  Perhaps that was what she wanted. Or perhaps he was just over thinking this whole thing.

  He smiled and stood up to greet her as she came through the door, having spotted her approaching on the street and given her a small nod and wave through the window.

  “You’re here already,” she smiled.

  “Yeah,” he smiled back, unsure whether he should go in for a hug at this point, or lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek, or just shake her hand and be really formal. What the hell was the procedure these days? It had been far too long since he’d been on a date. In the end, he did nothing, and just sort of stood there awkwardly, looking at her. She didn’t seem to notice, or mind.

  “I’ll just get a drink,” she said, indicating the bar and then disappearing off.