Renegade Ridge

by Arabella Steedly

  By the time we finished at the hospital it was late afternoon. I watched Kent as he walked back from the bar and sat a Coors for each of us on our table. Soon after Kent sat across the booth from me, Chad walked over to us, smiling. He wiped his hands on his apron and extended his palm. “Hi Rachel, long time no see.” I nodded, but before I could answer he asked, "How's your father doing?"

  I explained that Daddy was doing as well as could be expected, and said, "Thanks to you we're fortunate to have Kent. He's a great ranch hand." After a moment of small talk reminiscing about our high school days, Chad reached over to a nearby empty table and gave us both a menu.

  Before Chad excused himself, he nodded over at a waitress, and said, "Bonny will be right with you. She'll take your order — sirloin steak with fresh corn on the cob is today’s special."

  While Kent was glancing over the menu, I peeked over mine, and I couldn’t help but admire his broad shoulders and the way his pecs were bulging under his plaid cowboy shirt. My eyes were drawn to the cobra tattoo, and I wondered if it had a special significance. His handsome, chiseled face was set in a scowl, and his green eyes looked intense — he was studying the menu carefully. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him smile. I wondered again, like so many times before, what had happened to Kent to cause such a dramatic personality change.

  By the time Bonny came around to take our order we were on our second bottle of beer. "I'm starved," I said glancing at Bonny. "I'd like the special, cooked medium rare."

  Kent looked up and nodded. "I'll take the same...and...oh, bring us an order of cheese nachos."

  I noticed how his eyes glanced down at my breasts but soon darted away. Then he licked his lips and took another few gulps of his beer. I placed my hands in my lap and drew in a deep breath. I was ready to take the plunge and come right out and ask Kent what had happened to cause his dramatic mood change. But before I could form the words to express my concern he broke the silence between us. He glanced around the room, and said, "Chad's old man is dead, but the place looks the same as it did ten years ago.”

  I nodded, but I was not going to be drawn into chit-chat about the decor of a famous Cody landmark, so I blurted out, "Kent, where did you go when you left home after graduation?”

  Kent’s eyes widened at first then narrowed when he looked down at the bottle he cradled in his hands. After a second or two he looked up at me with furrows between his brows, and I could see that he was struggling with something inside him. He took another quick chug of his beer and smacked his lips. "I joined the Navy."

  "Yes, I knew you had become a SEAL, but what happened after that? Where were you stationed? It must have been fascinating?" I was trying to ask the right questions — hit the right nerve to make him talk — and was hoping the beer would remove some of his inhibitions.

  Kent looked down for a moment and rolled the edge of the beer bottle around on the table. "Of course. I started out at Great Lakes for basic training. Then eventually, after a few tours at sea, I had learned a lot about navigational equipment. And during previous firearms competitions, I had scored high in marksmanship and done well through survival training. So when I was promoted to midshipman, I applied and was accepted into BUD/S at Coronado Base in San Diego. After passing that I was assigned to my first SEAL unit."

  "That must have been very tough. I heard only the best of the best get in." I was telling the truth. I had great respect for anyone who served our country, but something about the SEALs created a sexy impression. A persona Kent wore all over him.

  When Kent chuckled, I almost gasped, but I managed to smile instead. Then he explained, “One thing was for sure. You don't know what you are capable of until you’re put to the test. And being a SEAL continuously tested both my physical and mental abilities.”

  About that time Bonny brought our nachos and set them on the table directly in front of me. I took the jalapeño pepper off one, bit down with a 'crunch' and placed my hand in front of my mouth. Nothing was going to stop me from asking more questions. "Were you ever in Afghanistan?"

  Kent palmed his hair and replied in a monotone, “Yeah, several times, and Syria.”

  I was grateful that he was responding to my questions, and I had to remind myself to take it slow — not push him. But instead, I did it anyway. "What did you see? Did something happen to you?"

  “Let's put it this way; I’ve seen more than I ever dreamed was imaginable. War is ugly, Rachel. You don’t need to hear the horrors of my terrifying experiences.” For a moment I forgot how he might reject me and reached out for his hand. When he didn’t respond, I pried his fingers away from the bottle and laced them together with mine. That moment I forgot every rude thing he had ever said to me. I wanted to comfort him and help ease the pain he was suffering.

  “I want to know all about your experiences, Kent,” I said in a softer voice as we stared at each other. “I know you think I won’t understand but—”

  “I watched my friend die in an ambush.” Kent shook his head, looked down at our hands, and continued. “Blood was streaming out of him...there was nothing I could do.” Then he paused and rubbed the cobra tattoo before he continued. “We had been through so much together, in training and on assignments. Marcus — we called him cobra — his code name. He was my buddy, my brother.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Now I understood why Kent had the tattoo. He was still carrying Marcus with him, embedded in his body; there was no more separation. I wasn’t sure if that idea was helping or was a hindrance to Kent’s emotional recovery. But one thing was sure, he was still grieving.

  Taking another swig of his beer Kent went on with his story. “Marcus was so brave, even when he knew he was dying.” He looked down and squeezed the bridge of his nose before he continued. “He thanked me for helping him in the end. But I hadn't really done anything except hold him in my arms and watch as his life slipped away.” Kent looked up at me with wet eyes. “Sometimes I wonder why it was Marcus instead of me.”

  I looked into his green eyes and squeezed his hand, "It just wasn't your time…there are things left here on earth you haven't accomplished yet. You have no reason to feel guilty. You did what you were trained for.”

  Moments later Bonny came up to our table and sat our dinners in front of us. I placed my napkin on my lap and picked up my steak knife. I was prepared to sit there in the bar and listen until Kent had everything off his chest. But when I glanced back, he had a vacant stare in his eyes. I could tell he was replaying in his mind Marcus' death over and over again.

  “Did you leave the military after that?” I asked.

  I watched him take in a deep breath. “I couldn’t be there anymore, not after Marcus’ death. I couldn’t bear to watch another one of my friends die. I was a coward,” he said and pressed his eyes closed. “Soon after, I was diagnosed with PTSD and given an honorable discharge.”

  “Don’t say that. You served your country for years. You were a brave soldier who had suffered a terrible loss. None of this is your fault. You are not a coward.” I was leaning over the table, trying to reason with him.

  When he opened his eyes, I could see that the fire had returned. Then he let go of my hand and gulped down the last half of his beer. “Why did you stay here, Rachel?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard, not expecting his question. “We were talking about you,” I said. Then Kent leaned over the table and peered straight into my eyes.

  “And now we’re talking about you. Why didn’t you go to college?” Kent asked.

  I pushed a piece of meat around my plate. "Just a week or so after graduation, right before I had planned to leave for New York City, I found Daddy unconscious on the floor of the stable. At first, I had hoped he would get better and so had he, but as time went on his condition got worse. So I had to stay behind to take care of the ranch. There was no way I was going to leave Daddy in his condition, so I just stayed and kept putting off my plans.”

  Kent peered out the window
for a moment before he faced me. "So I guess we are just two people who’ve lost out on our dreams, wouldn’t you say?”

  I nodded. He was right. My plan of going off to the big city and then to college had dramatically changed, but at least I had Daddy and the ranch. Kent was left with nothing. And I figured he didn’t realize he could still have me. “I’m alive, and I'm still here, even if it wasn't my initial choice.”

  "Yes, you are," Kent said. Then all of the sudden he threw down his napkin and stood up. "I should take you home. Your father will be worried." Before I could say a word, he was motioning to Bonny to bring him the check.

  I didn't want to go home yet. I wanted to continue our conversation. Then I remembered I hadn’t told Kent the good news. “I forgot to tell you, I got a text from Daddy while you were talking to the nurse. It looks like he has qualified as a guinea pig for a new trial drug. Sally said they had started him on it already but still were adjusting his dosage, so he has to stay one more day.”

  I watched a sly smile come over Kent's face when he heard the news about Daddy. Then for some reason, I giggled when I started following behind as he walked toward the cashier. My head was dizzy, and I felt light as a feather. All that interested me was watching Kent's tight, sexy ass standing at the counter, and I had to think twice — I almost reached out to squeeze it. I felt flushed from drinking three beers and from the desire that was building inside me.

  When we got outside the door, Kent stumbled when he stepped from the sidewalk into the parking lot. Then he turned toward me and snickered, saying, “Maybe I shouldn’t drive. I don’t think you can drive either." He grinned and pointed across the street at the Holiday Inn Express. "We should check in for the night and drive back to the ranch early in the morning since Sam is still away."

  "Yes," I said. Then I giggled and grabbed Kent's arm. "We don't need to get a DWI." Kent stopped and blocked me from opening the truck door with his arms crossed over his chest. I giggled again and started to weave a bit. He grabbed me by my shoulders. Standing tall over me he bent down to kiss me. I rose up on my toes as our lips pressed together. When his tongue slid into my open mouth, I closed my arms to embrace him. His hand slid around and grabbed one cheek of my ass. Then I heard someone yell out at us, "Hey cowboy, go get a room!"

  Kent broke our embrace and rested his arms on my shoulders. Then for the second time since our high school days, I heard him laugh. "Sounds like a great idea to me!" The guy looked over at us, tipped his Stetson, and gave us the thumbs-up sign.

  Kent got in, and before starting the truck, he pushed the button on the glove box. Reaching inside, he sifted through several papers and pulled out three condoms. Sliding them into his pocket he smiled, and said, “This cowboy is prepared to ride.”

  Moments later we were in the elevator at the hotel on our way up to our third-floor room. Just as the door swung open Kent grinned. Then he picked me up and bent me over his shoulder. I squealing and giggled as he walked down the hall and stopped in front of room 345. After inserting the card into the lock, he looked down the hall both ways, ensuring no one was watching. Then he swatted my butt sticking up in the air and brushed his fingers over my pussy.

  When we reached the king-sized bed, he lay me down on it and gently fell over me, wedging his thigh between my legs. “Rachel, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered into my ear. “Please let me make love to you the way you deserve it!”

  “I’d like, that,” I said, and thought how nerdy that must have sounded. I should have said something more exciting. I watched as Kent hooked his thumbs under his belt buckle and glanced down at the bulge in his jeans straining against his zipper. I batted my eyelashes and softened my voice to a sexy whisper, “Yes, Kent I want you to fuck me and then hold me in your arms.”

  Proud that I had been a bit more creative, I stood up and ran my hands over my breasts, caressing them. Then watching Kent watch me, I undid my western shirt, one snap at a time. He licked his lips as I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs, exposing my black bikini panties that matched my bra.

  “Good, I want this to be better than the last time,” Kent said, stepping closer to me. I could feel his hot breath against my neck. “You’re making me so fucking horny, Rachel. I want to have you right now!”

  In moments Kent’s clothes were laying on the floor, and I noticed his hard cock was larger than I had remembered — a horny girl’s dream. It was at least nine inches long, surrounded by a ring of light brown pubes, and the vein along the side was throbbing. My mouth was watering to taste him, so I ran my tongue over the slit at the tip of his cock.

  Kent stood back and started stroking himself as he watched me unfasten my bra. When my breasts bounced free, he stopped. Then he took my nipples and rolled them between his finger and thumb, sending electric sparks through my body. I moaned as his mouth covered mine. I wanted him to bury his cock inside my dripping wet pussy. But I also wanted the moment to last a while, not knowing if we would ever get the chance again — Kent was so unpredictable.

  Then he pulled me close and ran his hand down my back and squeezed my ass cheeks. “Rachel, you’ve got to know. I have always loved your ass.” I giggled as he pushed me back away just enough so he could start working his fingers under the black, thin, fabric covering my mound and wet sticky folds. I pressed against his hand, wanting more. Then he hooked his finger around the elastic band that ran over my hip and pulled my bikini panties to the floor.

  He got down on his knees and buried his nose into my pubes and began lapping his tongue over my slit. I opened my legs to give him more access to my horny hole, and in response, he moaned and pressed his mouth harder against my sensitive sex.

  After running my fingers through his hair, I opened my pussy lips, exposing my soft pinkness. I heard Kent mutter, “Holy fuck, I love the taste of you, girl!” Then he gently pushed me down on the bed.

  He kneeled beside the bed and pressed my thighs open and started parting my pussy lips. I groaned as his tongue fucked my hole while I tugged at my hard nipples. His beard brushed against folds. He was tantalizing me. I spread my legs wider, hoping he was going to finger fuck me, but instead, he pushed my lips back, exposing my sensitive clit.

  He placed his mouth over my nub as I guided his head where I wanted it. He looked up at me with his green eyes and grinned, “You have the most beautiful pink clit hood.” Then he lowered his head and nibbled at it, causing my juices to flood over his mouth. I started rocking my hips as I twisted his hair between my fingers, knowing he was about to send me over the edge.

  “Not yet,” Kent whispered. “Let’s make this moment last.” So we slid up and laid our heads on the pillows. Then he rolled on his side and put one leg between my legs, pressing his thigh against my wetness.

  Kent’s kiss was soft and tender; his tongue swirled around my swollen lips and into my mouth. I sucked on his tongue like I wanted to suck his cock, and he moaned and pressed his body closer.

  As his fingers brushed over my mound, I figured it was my moment to repay him for his oral pleasure, so I grabbed his hand, and said, “It’s my turn. I want your cock in my mouth.”

  He grinned, lay back, and spread his legs. While I was circling his cock head with my tongue, I reached down and gave his balls a soft squeeze. Kent bucked and gripped the sides of my head, pressing himself deeper into my mouth. I could taste his salty juices, and it made my pussy wetter.

  The air was thick with our combined scents, and I was about to cum just giving Kent a head job. He must have sensed I needed more so he pulled out and motioned for me to turn around. For a moment I was confused. Then I realized he wanted me in the 69 position. So I giggled and straddled his face as I ran my tongue along his shaft.

  I know I came twice for him while he licked my clit and fucked my pussy with two fingers. Then all of a sudden he flipped me over and turned around, smothering me with kisses. He ran his tongue down the side of my throat, licking away my perspiration. When he got to my tits, he used h
is tongue to trace one of my nipples.

  After a moment he peered up at me with his sparkling green eyes, and said, “I noticed one of your hot spots is squeezing your big brown nipples. Am I right?” Before I could even nod my head, he was tugging hard at one and nipping at the other.

  I couldn’t take it any longer, so I yelled, “Oh my God, I’m cumin.” I arched back as the orgasm was building deep inside my core. A moment later I felt his fingers inside me. While he was still nipping one nipple, he was also skillfully massaged my g-shot. I tilted my head back and parted my lips and pressed my pussy against his hand. Then it felt like I was peeing on myself when my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. I begged Kent to stop — but he knew better.

  I felt the bed was wet under my hips as his fingers kept working their magic when he whispered, “Give it to me Rachel, let me have all your sweetness, cause after you think your hot pussy is finished I’m going to fuck you and make you cum again.”

  I whimpered. “I can’t. I’m already done.”

  Kent grinned, and said, “No you’re not!” as he reached down and retrieved a condom out of his jeans pocket. I watched him roll it over his hardness, thankful he had come prepared — I hadn’t thought about protection at all!

  He lowered his body over me. His tongue was in my mouth as his shaft stretched open the pulsing walls of my pussy. I shuttered as he filled me up until his cock head was pressing into my cervix. I could feel my pussy gripping his meaty shaft. He was right; I still had more to give him.

  “Fuck me hard, Kent,” I mumbled. Using my hands, I gripped my knees to open my hungry pussy wider.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Kent said, his voice was deep and breathy. He pressed his hands against the bed, rising up over me, holding his shaft in me for a second like he was going to do push-ups. Then he thrust me slowly for a moment, teasing me and enjoying every minute.

  As he began building to a climax, his pumps came deeper and harder. I dug my heels into his ass, prodding him like a stallion, matching each of his strokes. He began fucking me so hard his cock was jarring my body while I moaned and bit my lip. My tits were bouncing with each of Kent’s strokes.