by Cat Johnson
Jenna studied her reflection harder. She’d chosen a black, knee-length, knit dress that looked surprisingly good when she’d tried it on with bare legs and her black cowboy boots.
What if she did have sex with them both? Who would it hurt? As Jenna grabbed her bag with her notes and wallet she knew the answer to that question. She could get hurt, that’s who. But damn, her body, which had already started to get excited at the thought of seeing the two again, didn’t seem to care about that.
———
At the arena, Jenna stepped up to the window, wallet in hand. There wasn’t much of a line because apparently, everyone else had purchased their tickets in advance and had gone straight in.
“One ticket please.”
The young woman behind the glass looked at her closely. “Hey, your name doesn’t happen to be Jenna Block, does it?”
Taken aback, Jenna nodded. “Yes, it is.”
The girl slid an envelope beneath the partition. “This ticket was left for you.”
“Um. Okay. Thanks.”
Things got even stranger when she showed the ticket to the guy at the door. If his raised brow and the amused look that took her in from head to toe didn’t alert her that something was off, the fact the man directed her right up to the front row of seats directly behind the bucking chutes did.
She sat and looked around. From there, she would be able to count the hairs on the bulls’ backs.
“Hey, you made it.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes at Mustang as he swung up onto the railing to be eyelevel with her. “You left me that ticket, didn’t you?”
“I sure did. Great seats, huh?”
“Yeah, but I’m thinking this is the special bimbo bull rider groupie section.”
“Shh. Keep your voice down. The woman sitting two seats over is the wife of the number one rider in the world. But, actually, I think she’s Brazilian and can’t speak English so I guess she didn’t understand you anyway.”
Jenna crossed her arms. “And tube top girl next to her?”
Mustang grinned. “All right, she may be a bit of a bimbo, but she’s the girlfriend of one of the rookies. He’s young and doesn’t know any better. He’ll learn you don’t have to fall in love with every girl you f…um, sleep with. And stop frowning at me. I thought you’d like being up close to the chutes so you can take your little notes.”
“Not if it’s going to make everyone think I’m sleeping with you,” Jenna hissed.
She noted that Mustang couldn’t control his grin at her merely mentioning sleeping with him. “Ah, so that’s the problem. Maybe this will help. I have never ever in my entire riding career left a VIP ticket for any woman I’ve had sex with. That make you feel any better?”
“Sadly, yes.” Jenna laughed at herself. “I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous. It was incredibly nice and sweet of you to think of me.”
Mustang tipped his cowboy hat charmingly with one hand. “Why, thank you, ma’am. I do try.”
“But how did they know it was me when I came up to the window?”
“Simple. I told the ticket girl to look for a beautiful, brunette, city girl, most likely dressed in black,” Mustang’s eyes dropped to take in her black dress, “who looked like she’d never been to a bull ride before in her life. You look great tonight, by the way.”
A little flutter began in Jenna’s chest, and down lower. She felt her cheeks heat at the compliment. “Thanks. So, um, where’s Slade?”
“He’s back getting his rope ready.” At Jenna’s blank stare, Mustang laughed. “We’ll go over ropes and all the gear when we get to your book stuff later. Okay?”
She nodded, relieved. They were really going to help her. She’d been a little afraid they were only in this to flirt and try to get her into bed.
“I might even let you touch mine, if you’re real nice.” Mustang waggled his eyebrows.
Feeling bold, Jenna said, “Okay, it’s a date.”
Mustang burst out laughing at her response. His eyes roamed over her again before he shook his head. “Ah, man. Jenna, darlin’, I better go and get myself ready before you put me in a state and I can’t ride.”
Jenna smiled. He was about to jump down, when she stopped him. “Mustang.”
He paused, poised on the rail. “Yeah, darlin’?”
“Is it bad luck to wish you good luck?”
He grinned. “Not at all, but a big sloppy kiss is even better luck.”
Shooting a glance at the wives and girlfriends surrounding her, not to mention the cameras and thousands of spectators, Jenna decided she couldn’t do it even as much as she wanted to. Instead, she rolled her eyes at him. “Good luck, Mustang.”
Jenna heard him still chuckling as his boots hit the ground and he strode away. Watching his nicely-shaped, denim-covered butt framed by chaps until he was out of view, she sighed, knowing she didn’t stand a chance. She’d be a card-carrying bimbo groupie by the end of the night. Glancing sideways at the tube-top wearing girl nearby, Jenna decided that, as far as bimbo groupies went, at least she’d be a well-dressed one.
Chapter Eight
“I’m here with Slade Bower, currently third in the standings worldwide and second in points this championship on this, day two of the competition in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Slade, what is your strategy for tonight? Do you go into the night with the goal of catching the guys ahead of you?”
At this point in his career Slade could answer these questions in his sleep. He stood close to the female reporter so the cameraman could get them both in the frame. “Nope. I don’t think about the other guys. When I leave that chute it’s a competition between the bull and me. I’m just taking it one bull at a time.”
“You heard it, folks. One bull at a time. Well, it sure seems to be working for you. Good luck tonight, Slade.”
He tipped his hat. “Thank you, ma’am.”
After finishing his interview with the reporter, Slade headed to get ready behind the chutes…and then he saw her. Right up there in the first row, seated almost next to the number one ranked bull rider’s wife, was Jenna.
Slade smelled Mustang’s hand in that and shook his head. He should have thought to leave a ticket for Jenna at the box office himself. Shit. And why the fuck did it bother him that it was Mustang who had arranged for her seat and not him?
Then Mustang, the little do-gooder himself, appeared.
“Hey. Did you see where I got Jenna a seat?”
Slade scowled. “Yeah, I did.”
“What’s the matter with you? I thought you’d be happy I got her such a great seat. The arena was sold out except for the VIP block and a few seats in the back section.”
“You didn’t tell me you left her a ticket.”
Mustang shrugged. “Sorry, it slipped my mind. Why don’t you go talk to her?”
“Why don’t you?” Suddenly, Slade felt cranky.
Mustang frowned at him. “Because I already did.”
That figured. “How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate in the chute knowing she’s sitting that close, right behind me, taking her little notes?”
Mustang let out a noise of disgust. “Oh, come on. You know you could tune out a hurricane when you ride.”
Normally that might be true, but last night Slade had spent hours reading Jenna’s book in his bed, then spent the remaining hours until dawn picturing her in that bed with him.
He had finally fallen asleep and slept late into the day, but his concentration still felt off, even after he’d dealt with the raging hard-on he’d woken up with. Lack of concentration was the last thing he wanted before getting on two thousand pounds of pissed off bovine.
“What’s up with you today? I thought you liked her.”
“I do.” That was the problem.
“Then you should be happy. Jenna showed up, just like I told you she would. All we have to do now is ride a couple of bulls,” Mustang elbowed Slade in the ribs and joked, “and then we get to ride her.”
Slade scowl
ed in disgust and Mustang threw his hands up in the air.
“What the hell, Slade? We get to do our two favorite things in the world, ride and fuck, both in one night, and you got that face on you again.”
Slade narrowed his gaze at Mustang. “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”
“Like what?”
“How we get to ride her or fuck her. Dammit, Mustang. Jenna’s a lady. She hears you saying shit like that, and it’s all over.”
Mustang’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I know that, Slade, but she can’t hear us from all the way over there.”
“Just quit talking like that. Okay?”
“All right. I apologize.”
He accepted the apology with a nod, then pointedly ignored Jenna in the stands and focused on the rookie rider in the chute. “I’m gonna go help the kid with his rope.”
“Okay, Slade.”
Slade felt Mustang still staring at him as he walked away.
———
“That was absolutely incredible! Slade, when that bull kept changing direction and you stayed on him anyway. And, Mustang, I almost died when you jumped off and your bull came after you and tried to ram you in the butt with his horns.”
Mustang grinned at Jenna. She’d been chattering about the competition the entire walk from the arena to the bar. “Don’t worry, darlin’. The bullfighters were right there to save my ass. It’s all good.”
Jenna continued to shake her head. “Still. Jeez. If I’m this excited just from watching you, what you guys feel after a ride must be amazing.”
Mustang’s eyes met Slade’s knowingly as he laughed at how true that statement was. The adrenaline rush was addictive, and stuck with you well after the ride. Though they usually took advantage of the pent up energy by sinking immediately into the first girl, or two, they could find, both cowboys had forgone that immediate post-ride sexual release for two nights in a row now. The reason was sitting, flushed, excited, and incredibly tempting at the table with them.
“Yeah, it is pretty amazing,” Mustang agreed. As the cocktail waitress arrived, he asked Jenna, “What ya’ drinking tonight, darlin’?”
“Um, vodka and cranberry?”
“I knew she wasn’t really a beer drinker,” Slade mumbled so low only Mustang heard him.
He ignored Slade’s crankiness and turned to the waitress. “A vodka cranberry for the lady. I’ll have whatever domestic beer you’ve got in a bottle, and Slade?”
“Whisky, straight up, beer chaser.”
“Okay.” Mustang raised a brow at Slade’s order, then turned back to the waitress. “That will do us for a while. Thank you, darlin’.”
Jenna reached into her giant bag and dropped a credit card on the waitress’ tray. “Could you make sure whatever the tab comes to at the end of the night goes on that card?”
“No. I’ll pay.” Mustang reached for his wallet when Jenna shook her head and spoke directly to the waitress. “Put it on my card, please.”
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with the drinks and your card.”
Mustang’s mouth twisted at having the woman he was interested in buying his drinks. He enjoyed making him pay since Slade had been beating him in the standings all year long, but Jenna was a different story. “You don’t need to do that, darlin’.”
“And you don’t need to help me with my book, but you are,” she countered.
At that cue, Slade pulled the stack of rolled up pages out of his back jeans pocket and Jenna’s eyes lit up at the sight. “Did either of you get a chance to read it?”
Slade raised a brow at that question. “Of course we did. We promised we would, didn’t we?”
“I know. But I thought maybe you might be too busy. So? What did you think?”
She bit her lip and Mustang found he had trouble dragging his gaze away from her mouth. “It’s good.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “Stop. Don’t tell me it’s good. Tell me what’s wrong with it so I can make it better.”
Slade pushed the papers closer to her. “There are a few things you might want to change. Terminology mostly. I made notes in the margins for you.”
“You did? Thank you, Slade.” Jenna stared at Slade, looking surprised, before she turned back to Mustang. “What did you think? And don’t say it was good again.”
Mustang shrugged. “I agree with what Slade wrote. He grabbed it and read it first.” Because at the time I was busy jerking off into the trailer’s toilet while picturing you naked.
Jenna flipped through the pages as the drinks arrived. Mustang noted she grabbed the straw while reading and had sucked down half the drink without even noticing. He considered catching the waitress’ eye and ordering her another when she looked up and said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. You both are going into the dedication.”
Across from Mustang, Slade downed the whisky and shook his head. “No need for that. Really.”
“Yeah, it was nothing, darlin’,” Mustang added.
Grabbing his beer to wash down the shot, Slade nodded. “Actually, it was a pretty good read.”
Both Jenna and Mustang looked at Slade after that shocking comment, then Jenna turned that piercing gaze of hers on Mustang expectantly and he had no choice but to say something. The truth was, he was far more interested in her than her book.
“Um, I liked it too.”
She frowned at his answer. “You’re a rotten liar, Mustang.”
“Now, that is a terrible thing to say to a man.” Grinning, Mustang rose from his seat. “Come on, darlin’. I like this song. Let’s dance.”
Mustang grabbed her hand, pulling her from the chair as she squealed. “But I can’t dance to country music.”
“Sure you can. Just follow me.” Mustang held Jenna close against him and, with his leg braced between hers, steered her around the dance floor.
She soon got the rhythm of his motion and stopped looking so frightened, which wasn’t such a good thing because now she decided to question him. “So you really didn’t like my book. I can tell.”
Mustang opened his mouth to protest but she cut him off. “Really, it’s okay. Bull riding cowboys aren’t exactly my target market so you’re not supposed to like it. But I’d still like to know what you thought was wrong with it. Maybe I can fix it.”
With a sinking feeling that if he said anything other than he loved her book it would mean he’d be alone with his hand again tonight, he went for it anyway. Honesty always was the best policy...well, not always but he couldn’t come up with a believable lie right now with Jenna pressed up against him. “All right. Here’s the thing. The story is okay.”
“Just okay?”
He nodded, watching her face as he watched his chances with her fade away. He scrambled to get them back. “Yeah, but as you said, I’m not your market, right?”
Jenna agreed with a nod. “Right. What else?”
She’d stopped moving at all now, standing glued to the hardwood right there in the middle of the dance floor.
“Nothing. It was fine…good.”
“Mustang, tell me.” Her voice sounded a lot like his mama’s did when she was unhappy with him. The sad part was, even that didn’t smother his desire to take her right then and there.
Shit. “All right. The sex scenes...”
Jenna let out a groan.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. Really, the sex scenes are fine. Like you said, I’m not your usual reader.”
“No, Mustang. You’re right. Even the reviewers agree with you.” Jenna sighed. “I think I’m in the wrong profession.”
Mustang grabbed her face in both hands and made her look at him. “No. Listen. You’re really a good writer. I really did like it.”
“Except for the story and the sex scenes,” she added with a scowl.
Mustang felt like shit. He’d single handedly destroyed this woman’s self-confidence, not to mention his and Slade’s chances with her for that night. Slade was going to kill him. Glancin
g over at the table, Mustang realized Slade’s eyes had never left them. “Come on. Let’s go sit down and get you another drink.”
“Sure, why not. It’s my birthday and my career is going down the toilet. I might as well get drunk.” She walked away from him and toward where Slade still sat watching them.
“It’s your birthday?”
“Yup, and don’t ask how old I am because I don’t want to talk about it.” Jenna sat and, ditching the straw, downed the remainder of her drink in one big gulp. As she flagged down the waitress, Slade shot Mustang a look that pretty clearly asked what the hell just happened?
He’d fucked up royally. That’s what had happened.
Mustang shook his head and sent a warning glance to Slade to be quiet, then turned back to Jenna. “Why don’t you want to talk about your birthday? You’re what, like twenty-five?”
Jenna laughed bitterly. “Yeah. That’s right. Twenty-five today.”
When the waitress arrived, Jenna looked from Slade to Mustang. “You two still have something to drink back in your trailer?”
The bottle of beer stopped halfway to Slade’s mouth at that question.
Mustang raised a brow. “Yeah, we do.”
“Okay.” Jenna looked up at the waitress. “Can you please close out that tab? We’re leaving.”
“Sure. Let me just go get your receipt.”
“I’ll come up with you.” Grabbing her bag, Jenna stood and looked down at them. “Be right back.”
“Sure, darlin’.” Mustang nodded, Jenna left with the waitress, and Slade jumped on him.
“What the hell happened out there on that dance floor?”
“I’m not quite sure.” Mustang shook his head. He had done everything wrong and somehow she’d still suggested they go back to the trailer. Not about to question their good luck, Mustang downed the last of his beer. As Jenna returned, he said, “Let’s go.”
Before she changes her mind.