Slow Rider: Texas Cowboys #5

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Slow Rider: Texas Cowboys #5 Page 7

by Devlin, Delilah


  Behind her, hard abs flexed, arms drew her closer, and Joe brought her upright, still impaled on his cock—this time pinned by her pussy. “Logan, get out of here.”

  Logan winked and crawled off the bed, padding away to the bathroom where the water ran.

  Sarah’s chest heaved as she dragged in deep breaths. Joe’s hands skimmed her belly, her breasts and down again, sinking between her legs to swirl on her clit, which was still engorged, still exposed. Her breath hitched.

  “Too much?”

  “Just sensitive.”

  His hands glided up to cuddle her breasts.

  “What’s next?” she asked.

  “How do you feel?”

  Sarah wished she could summon a bit of defiance, just for pride’s sake, but she sniffed. “I feel shattered.”

  Warm lips glided along her cheek, and she turned her head to meet his kiss. His tongue skimmed her lower lip then stroked gently inside. A palm cupped her cheek in a touch so tender and tentative, she nearly wept.

  Which made her jerk away. She trained her gaze on the headboard in front of her and blinked against the moisture.

  “I’ll take you home.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  Joe lifted her slowly until his cock fell from between her folds. With the connection between their bodies broken, she could finally get her emotions in control. She climbed off the bed and stood beside it, waiting as he left in search of their clothing.

  But how could she dress, sticky as she was?

  She went to the doorway of the bathroom and knocked softly.

  “It’s unlocked,” Logan called out.

  “I’m just going to use your sink,” she said, twisting the doorknob.

  Inside, steam filled the room. She rubbed the glass over the sink with her hand and grimaced at her appearance. Her hair was a messy riot of lank curls. Her lips and cheeks were raw and reddened.

  She bent and ran cold water, rinsing her skin to cool the burn.

  “You two heading out?” Logan asked from beyond the curtain.

  “He’s taking me home.”

  “Want some advice?” he asked more softly.

  “From my friend or his?”

  “Do I have to choose? I think I’ve earned bragging rights as a friend to both of you,” Logan drawled.

  Sarah wet a washcloth and eyed the curtain before bringing it between her legs to scrub. “Go ahead.”

  “Wait for his call.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. “Wait for his call? That’s it? You really think I’m the kind of girl who waits around on any man’s call?”

  “You’re not. That’s why it’s important that you do. Think about it, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Sarah?”

  She grimaced, recognizing the teasing note in his voice. “I’m still here.”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said plum becomes you. So does leather and a pink ass. Joe’s a lucky man.”

  She slung her washcloth over the top of the curtain, and trounced out of the bathroom followed by Logan’s laughter.

  Back in the bedroom, Joe waited, his features drawn in taut relief. “Kissing Logan goodbye?”

  “I forgot about that. Better go back.”

  Joe grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door.

  “My clothes. Can I at least dress before we go outside?”

  “Do it in the truck.”

  The drive to her place was made in stony silence. She’d dressed, combed her hair with her fingers, added a swipe of lipstick to her sore mouth, then contemplated the stick shift while Joe drove.

  “Nothing happened in the bathroom, if that’s what you’re mad about. I just wanted to wash up. I felt sticky.”

  Joe exhaled loudly. “There aren’t going to be any repeats of tonight. Logan’s never going to have you again.”

  She stayed silent, not knowing how exactly to respond. “Fine,” she finally managed with a shrug only mildly disappointed. Logan was a handsome man with mad sexual prowess, but her interests had landed squarely on Joe. When he didn’t clarify whether there would be any repeats between just the two of them, she grew anxious, which made her angry because she really cared whether the arrogant bastard wanted her or not. She hated asking. She shouldn’t have to. But the waiting was killing her. “So,” she whispered, “if I can’t have Logan again, what about you?”

  “You’re mine.”

  “I’m yours?” she said, her voice louder. “And I’m supposed to accept your pronouncement just because you’ve decided? What makes you think I’ll agree?” She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. “The fact you made me come? Hate to break it to you, but I’ve had orgasms before.”

  “I didn’t doubt that for a second,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “And maybe, someday, I’ll be ready to hear all about your sexual exploits, but right now, I’m trying to forget the sight of you swallowing Logan’s cock like you couldn’t get enough of him.”

  “You’re mad because I enjoyed what you arranged?” she asked slowly, anger heating slowly like kindling catching that first spark of fire.

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I know that. Just give me a little time.”

  Her head exploded. The arrogant fucker. “I’ll give you lots of time. The rest of your life, in fact. Because I won’t ever talk to you again. Stop the truck!”

  “Sarah…” he said, his voice rising in warning.

  “No! You’re unbelievably arrogant. You think you can tell me who I can be with yet you’re not sharing what wonders I’m going to receive in exchange. I’m just supposed to say ‘yes sir’ and keep my mouth closed while you get over being mad—because you made me fuck your best friend. Man, have you got the wrong girl.”

  The truck jerked to the right, wheels spinning in gravel, as he ground to halt on the side of the highway.

  Sarah saw the taut fury in his features, and her heart skipped a beat. She grabbed the door handle, popped it open, slid to the ground, and ran.

  Only her sexy, high-heeled sandals sank in the gravel with each step. He was on her in a minute. An arm latched around her waist, and he carried her like a bag of potatoes over one hip back to his truck. He slung her into the open door and, before she could sit up, he yanked her spandex skirt down her thighs and off her feet.

  The skirt flew over his shoulder into the ditch, and he stepped up on the running board, capturing the hands slapping at his shoulders and head in one fist. The other hand loosened his jeans and drew out his cock. His thickness butted once against her opening then slammed hard and deep.

  Sarah came up on her elbows to scream at him, but her breath caught at his expression. The fierce, feral fury stamped on his taut features warred with the regret glittering in his eyes.

  Tears blinded her, and she relented, tilting back her head as he began to power into her. His strong thrusts shook her body, causing her breasts to shimmy.

  She braced one foot against the doorframe, laid back on the seat and stretched out her arms, one hand gripping the gun rack in the window and the other the steering wheel.

  “Dammit, Sarah,” he ground out.

  “I know, I know, baby,” she whispered. “So goddamn good…ahhh!”

  His hands gripped her hips and jerked her toward him as he thrust, again and again. Tension built in her core, and her pussy clamped down on his cock. The friction he built inside her was molten hot.

  She watched him, her gaze never straying. She noted the veins rising on his forearms as he gripped her hard, the sharp, strained edges of his jaw and cheekbones, the sweat gathering on his upper lip and forehead.

  Mostly, she watched the long, thick column of his cock as he hammered in and out of her in violent strokes.

  Sarah’s breaths grew jagged, her legs tensed, and all along her inner channel muscles rippled, caressing Joe’s cock, clasping and releasing his shaft to draw him deeper.

  Joe’s thrusts quickened until he jackhammered against her pussy, short grunts gus
ting, his belly and balls slapping moisture where they landed.

  “I can’t wait…don’t make me wait,” she pleaded.

  “Come, baby. Fuck!” he shouted, pounding harder, climbing into the cab to follow her as her hands lost their grips, and she scooted deeper into the cab with each thrust.

  Sarah sobbed, arching her back as a moment of perfect ecstasy pricked her nipples and sent waves of heat washing over her skin. Small convulsions vibrated up and down her channel, and, at last, she jerked, crying out as the pleasure exploded.

  Joe collapsed on top of her, breathing hard.

  Sarah wrapped her arms around him, gasping to fill her starved lungs.

  Gradually, his breaths evened, and he lifted his head from her shoulder. He wiped the tears sliding into her hair with his thumbs then bracketed her face between his hands. “I know I don’t say the right things. But I don’t feel very civilized when I’m around you. It’s been that way from the first time I saw you. I’ve wanted to mark you like a dog, rub my smell and semen all over you, so any man who passed you would know you’re mine.”

  Sarah’s mouth opened, but she didn’t know how to respond. What he said, the deep, growling texture of his voice as he’d said it, answered an emotion welling deep inside her. “I never say the right things either. I think I want to be the bitch so men know not to try to get too close. I’m not any good at being a girlfriend.”

  His lips tightened, and she smoothed her thumb over his bottom lip, watching his mouth rather than his darkly glittering eyes.

  “I’m scared of what you make me want,” she whispered.

  “It’s a start,” he said softly then kissed her mouth in slow, suctioning circles. “Gonna wait for my call?”

  Sarah punched his shoulder.

  Chapter 7

  Having a possessive boyfriend had its pitfalls and perks—it was also a lot of fun.

  Whenever she wanted an obedience refresher, she only had to don a flirty little skirt and head to the bar, where invariably he’d find her and haul her butt out. Sometimes, they even made it home to her bed before he “punished” her.

  But he’d been reasonable—he’d allowed her to select the flogger he used from an online BDSM store. She’d added a leather slapper which she’d nicknamed the “cunt clapper” because that’s where she liked it aimed.

  When she heard his truck grind to a halt outside her house one Sunday morning, she formed her lips into a straight line before she opened the door.

  She knew exactly what he was thinking when he parked behind the sleek sedan already hogging her driveway. She answered the knock, closing the door behind her to stand on the stoop.

  His gaze narrowed, and his hand came up to push against the door, but she stepped close enough that her nipples, which were covered only by her thin nightgown and robe, beaded against his chest.

  “Sarah…”

  One side of her mouth quirked at the tense warning. Lordy, he was going to punish her body deliciously—after her company was gone.

  She stood on tip-toe and softly brushed his lips with hers. “Come inside.” Grabbing his hand, she turned and pulled him through the door, leading him into her kitchen. “Daddy, I’d like you to meet Joe.”

  Joe felt his face heat with embarrassment as the judge looked over the top of the paper he’d been reading while he sat at the kitchen table. The older man gave him a steely glare. “It’s a little early for a social call, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe it’s a little late by my standards, Daddy,” Sarah said, sounding amused. “He worked last night.”

  “One of the new deputy’s…I know. He’s appeared in traffic court a few times already.” Judge Michelson set aside the paper and leaned back in his chair. “So, you’re dating my daughter. Have to wonder why. She’s not exactly been the most obedient daughter.”

  Joe’s lips twitched. The emphasis on the word obedient and the sparkle in the judge’s eye said he knew something about the nature of his battles with Sarah. Seemed nothing stayed private long in a small town.

  “Sarah just needed a firm hand,” Joe drawled, taking a seat opposite the judge, and then jerking back in his chair when a coffee cup landed with a thud in front of him. Joe used a napkin to wipe up the mess, and then lifted his cup. “Perfect sweetheart. Just enough cream to ease the bitterness.”

  Dishes rattled behind him, and he pursed his lips to hide a smile.

  The judge arched a salt ’n’ pepper brow. “I should thank you for your discretion.”

  “My discretion?”

  “The bet Sarah accepted. I understand I have you to thank for putting a stop to that nonsense.”

  “Daddy!”

  “Now, pumpkin, are you mad because I mentioned it or because I knew all about it?”

  Joe chuckled, warming up to the judge instantly. Her father knew her well and seemed appreciative of having another man take her in hand.

  Judge Michelson rose from his seat and extended a hand toward Joe. “Don’t be a stranger. Sarah, you bring him around the house. Maybe he’d like to come fish in the pond with me sometime soon.”

  “I do have some new lures I’d love to try out.”

  Joe glanced at Sarah whose face turned beet red. He’d managed to fashion half a dozen new and inventive hooks lately, some of them actually suitable for snagging a croppy or a bass.

  The judge bent and kissed Sarah’s cheek, gave Joe a wink, and let himself out.

  The silence that followed was filled only with puffs of indignation from Sarah. “Wouldn’t you know he’d take to you right away!”

  “You aren’t pleased?”

  “No! You two will be sharing all kinds of secrets about ways to torment me.”

  “I hardly think your daddy’s gonna give me advice about where to crack my whip.”

  She scowled. “No, it’ll be so much worse. He’ll start makin’ plans.”

  Joe plucked the towel from her hands and hung it over the side of the sink. Then he turned her to face him, bringing her close to his hips and the heavy bulge the hint of her sweet perfume had mustered. “And plans are a bad thing?”

  She swallowed, and her gaze dropped to his chest. “I don’t want you feeling crowded. He can be a little overbearing. And as soon as he figures out you’re moving in with me, he won’t be subtle about expecting something more out of you.”

  “What will he expect?” he said, suppressing a smile.

  Her gaze met his, uncertainty causing them to glitter. “For you to marry me.”

  Joe raised both eyebrows, pretending surprise, when secretly he was pleased she’d mentioned the M-word. It meant she’d been thinking about their future. “I’m a big boy. I think I can take care of myself when he starts to put the pressure on.”

  Her lips formed a straight line, and two spots of bright color flushed both cheeks. Joe could feel the tension stiffening her back. She’d wanted a less ambiguous answer and was mad at herself for expecting one.

  He lifted a hand, grabbed a handful of her glossy, pale curls, and forced her head back until her gaze met his. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re mine? When are you gonna believe it?”

  Her lips relaxed. A deep sigh filled her chest. “I guess I don’t have much patience.”

  Joe snorted, which earned him a pinch. “Did you get much sleep last night?” he murmured against her hair.

  “Why?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Is there some reason you need me rested?”

  “Just checking.” He unwrapped his arms from around her and stepped away. “I got a couple of hours of sleep, but then I don’t need much when I’m inspired. I do however need food. What’s for breakfast?”

  * * *

  Sarah had just picked up the dishes from the table and poured Joe another cup of coffee when the doorbell rang again. Her eyes rounded in alarm, but Joe’s lips curled in amusement. “You gonna answer that?”

  “What if it’s my dad?” she asked, tugging the sides of the apron around her bottom, but comin
g up several inches short.

  “It’s not. Answer the door just like you are,” he said, in his bedroom voice—the one that was hard-edged and surly and never failed to make her melt.

  He smacked his knee once, a reminder of what he’d paddle next if she didn’t hop to.

  Cursing hotly under breath, she stomped out of the kitchen to the front door, closed her eyes, and opened it.

  “Mornin, kitten. Joe said he might be here all day,” Logan said, his voice choked with laughter. “Thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

  “Oh, it’s just you,” she said, wrinkling her nose and pretending she wasn’t relieved and delighted.

  Running into Logan Ross, which she did often, proved less embarrassing than she’d feared. She had a soft spot in her heart for the man, and knew he cared about her too because he’d threatened to kick Joe’s ass if he ever hurt her.

  “He’s in the kitchen,” she said, turning to let him see her naked ass as she made her way down the short hallway.

  Logan’s chuckles followed her all the way back.

  Once inside the kitchen, she reached for the towel and threw it at Joe’s head. “What would you have done if it hadn’t been him?”

  Joe caught the towel and grinned. “Apologized for your naughty streak and told whoever it was I’d make damn sure you never did it again.”

  “And they’d believe you?”

  “Do you really think they’d doubt it?” Logan interjected. “All they’d have to do is see the two of you watching each other.” He slid into a seat at the table and tugged at his shirt collar. “Damn, is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

  Joe patted his knee, and she happily climbed on, glad the top of her apron hid her nipples because they’d sprouted like winter crocuses, and he’d know it was because Logan’s glance was eating her up.

  Logan’s fell on the bowl of fruit in the center of her kitchen table. Oranges, shiny apples, and one plump plum.

  Sarah’s back straightened as Logan’s eyes narrowed in wicked satisfaction. She sent Joe a wild-eyed glance and felt relief at the sudden tension in his features.

 

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