by Adele Hart
Eight
Ryder
I grab my coat off the hook and walk out the back door into the cold night air. Running my hand through my hair, I groan. Walking away from her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I had to. She’s too drunk for me to be with in the way I want to. And it’s too soon. We barely know each other. There’s no way I should have even let myself do what I just did. But to take her now, when she’s not in her right mind, would be unforgivable.
Julia’s too special for a quick, one-night stand. She’s too good for that. And I can’t go falling in love, not when I’m days away from the finals. So, I forced myself to walk away, out to the barn to check on the cows and cool down. My cock is hard as a rock as I cross the farmyard, in spite of the freezing temperature. When I lift my hand to fill the water buckets, I can smell her on me and the scent of her sweet little pussy makes me want to rush back inside and tear off her clothes.
Flashes of her bucking and begging me go through my mind and I fight like hell to stay in here and away from her. I hear her voice as she came, raspy from panting. I can feel her body against mine, soft and warm and willing. I want her. I have never wanted a woman the way that I want Julia. This need is one that won’t be satisfied by one fuck or one night or even one lifetime. This is the type of need that never ends.
I stay outside for a long time, checking on all the animals, feeding them and making sure the heat is working in each barn, waiting for my need for Julia to go away and leave me alone. I can’t get caught up in this. Not now. Not when I have everything to lose.
When I finally walk back to the house, part of me hopes she’ll be waiting for me in my bed, but I know she won’t. Not after disappearing on her like that. She’s more than likely completely pissed at me right now, but there’s nothing I can do to fix that. Not until after next week.
When I open the door, I look in the kitchen and see that the dishes are done. Her computer is gone and so is she. I can hear the shower running in the guest bathroom. I sigh to myself and shrug my coat off. As I walk down the hall to my bedroom, I stop in front of her door and consider stripping down and climbing into the shower with her. But, I can’t do that. I make my way to my room and close the door, reminding myself of all the reasons I won’t go to her right now.
I strip down, my cock going rigid again as soon as I free it from the confines of my jeans. I climb into the shower, turn the water on and stand under it, letting it warm my cold skin as I lean against the wall and think about Julia. She’s naked right now in my house. I could have her if I’d let myself, but I won’t. I grip my cock with the same hand I used to finger fuck her. Tugging and stroking myself, I let my mind roam free with thoughts of Julia. I think of how she sounded and how she felt. I think of how tight and wet she was for me and the way she moved, begging me for more.
I pick up the pace now, stroking myself until I come in long, hot spurts, spraying the shower wall, over and over, while I empty myself of my need for her. When I’m done, I lean my head against the wall, letting the water wash away the tension in my body. I grab the soap and get cleaned up, hoping that I can keep it together long enough to get through the night with her under the same roof. As I dry off, I worry that she won’t understand why I walked away. I hope she doesn’t think I don’t want her because nothing could be farther from the truth. I have never wanted someone more, which is why I aim to do it right when we finally are together. I’m going to lay her on my bed and take my time with her, exploring every curve, every dip with my hands and my tongue. I’m going to fill her tight pussy so full of my come that it’ll be dripping out for days. And when it’s over, she’ll be mine.
But, first, I need to win the finals.
Nine
Julia
I’ve heard of that saying, ‘rode hard and put away wet,’ but until tonight, I didn’t know what it really meant. It means when you let a complete jerk give you the wildest, best orgasm of your life, then he pulls out and walks away without so much as a word.
I lay in bed, trying to figure out what the hell happened, my face hot with shame. How could he just do…all of that, then walk out the door? I think of the way he held me there in place, controlling everything. I would never have thought I’d get off on that, but I did. I loved giving my power over to him and trusting him to make me come. It felt amazing…right up to the point where he disappeared.
I waited for him to come back, at first wondering if it was a joke, then thinking maybe he went out to his truck to get some condoms or something. But then, when he didn’t return, I started to feel like a fool. I washed up the dishes, hoping he’d come back in so we could talk, hoping he’d change his mind. But he didn’t. He just stayed away, leaving me feeling like a total reject and wishing I could get the hell off this ranch.
I turn over and stare at the snow as it flies past the window. I’ve never felt this lonely in my life. This used. Even though he didn’t use me for his own pleasure, but for my own. The fact that he was able to walk away from me shows that he doesn’t want me and he probably never did. I shut my eyes, thinking about how humiliating it’s going to be to see him tomorrow morning. I want to go home—back to L.A. to my little apartment and my safe, little life.
I lay awake for hours, unable to get Ryder off my mind, unable to think about anything but him and the way he felt against me and inside me. I finally drift off as the sun is starting to come up. I wake not long after from a dream of us together. I’m wet when I wake and my pussy is throbbing with need for him. I close my eyes and reach down under the blankets to release the pressure, rubbing myself while I think of what he did to me last night. I force myself to stay quiet when I come, then as soon as it’s over, I’m mad at myself for wanting him so desperately. What kind of woman am I that I can’t resist some dumb bull rider? I mean, seriously? I’ve been around hundreds of hot male athletes and none of them did a thing for me, but this guy I can’t do without?
I check my phone and see a text from Kyle. The road’s open again. I’m on my way.
Grumbling, I get up and force myself to get ready. I pull on the same dress I had on last night. I’ll have to wear it for continuity of the interview. That, and Ryder’s cowboy hat, that I don’t want to put on after what happened. A knock at the door startles me. I decide not to answer it.
There’s another knock, then I hear Ryder’s deep voice. “Julia, if you’re hungry, breakfast is on the table. I’ll be outside.”
I say nothing and listen to his footsteps down the hall, then hear the back door slam shut. I curse under my breath and get back to doing my hair and makeup. A ping on my phone interrupts my stewing and I look at the screen to see that Kyle texted to say he’s here. I stare at myself in the mirror for a moment, trying to convince myself that I’m beautiful and talented, whether or not Ryder wants me. More than that, I’m a professional. I can hold my head up high and do my job, then get the hell out of here.
I make my way through the sunlit snow to the barn, tugging my jacket tight around me to keep out the biting wind. When I slide open the barn door, I’m greeted by the warm air and the sight of Kyle setting up. Luckily, Ryder isn’t in here yet.
Kyle glances up at me. “How was your night?”
“Fine. I got a bit of work done, then went to bed early. You?” My tone is short. I’m a little more than pissed that Kyle’s screw up yesterday ended in my humiliation.
“Boring. The cable was out in the motel, so I had to read a book.”
“Sounds awful.” I roll my eyes while I shed my coat.
The door slides open and a blast of cold air brings Ryder in with it. “Mornin’ Kyle. Julia.”
“Morning, Ryder,” Kyle says. “That was quite the storm last night.”
“Yeah, it’s par for the course this time of year.”
I busy myself with going over my notes so I don’t have to look at Ryder. A part of me that I wish didn’t exist wants to tear up a little with rejection. I feel him standing next to me before I see him. Th
en I hear his low voice. “Did you sleep all right, Julia?”
The sound rumbles through me and I hate myself for letting it please me. I give him a little nod without looking up. “Just fine. We’ll get this next part of the interview wrapped up as fast as possible so we can get out of your way.”
“No rush.” He touches my arm but I turn from him and walk toward Kyle.
“You almost ready, Kyle?” I ask.
Kyle gives me a questioning look, then sets his gaze on Ryder. When his eyes meet mine, there’s a look of understanding in them. I flush with guilt as I take the microphone from him. Taking a deep breath, I set my shoulders back and stride over to Ryder, keeping my gaze set on the bull behind him.
“Julia,” he says under his breath. “I can see you’re upset.”
Ignoring his words, I give him a hard look. “Let’s get this done, shall we?”
Kyle counts us in and starts recording. The rest of the interview is a blur to me. It feels like I’m watching someone else smile, ask questions and nod like a bobble-head doll. How could this be me? The woman that was screaming out Ryder last night at his kitchen sink and now I’m pretending nothing happened. Every time I have to make eye contact with him, it’s like a shot to the gut. He’s so perfect, he’s hard to look at. And memories of what he tasted like and how he made me feel torture me.
“Well, thank you, Ryder, for letting our audience get to know you. Best of luck next week at the finals.” I turn to the camera. “For WSPN, this is Julia Rutherford on location in Baker’s Creek, Montana. Stay tuned for my interview with T.J. Heston, the number one ranked bull rider in the world.”
“And we’re out!” Kyle calls. “Great work you two.”
“Thanks,” Ryder says, his voice totally devoid of enthusiasm.
“Yup,” I say in a clipped voice. “So, Kyle and I need to shoot some of the questions again with different camera angles. No need for you to stick around for that.”
Ryder puts his hand on my elbow. “Julia—”
“Walk away, Ryder. You’ve got that move mastered,” I say, tugging my arm away and keeping my voice low.
When my eyes meet his, the look on his face almost melts me. He looks like he’s as wrecked about what happened as I am. But how is that possible? He’s the one who left. He’s the one who doesn’t want me. I harden myself against the hurt in his moss green eyes.
He pauses for a minute, then says, “Be careful with T.J. He’s not always a good guy.”
“Well, in that case, you two have more in common than riding bulls.”
Ten
Ryder
I stride out of the barn, then kick over a garbage can once I’m outside. The thought of her at T.J. Heston’s place makes my blood boil. That’s one guy who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and if I know him, Julia will be just his type. If he so much as lays one finger on her, I swear I’ll kill him.
I storm into the house, then pour myself a coffee and stand at the kitchen window, waiting for her to come out of the barn. I need to think of what to say so she’ll know I just need her to hang on until I can explain. How do I tell her that I’m so overcome by her that I can’t think straight when she’s around? How do I tell her that I want to keep her here forever?
I can’t, so, I have to just hope that I can fix everything when the time is right.
Four Days Later
I hate Vegas. Always have. Always will. The air here feels like breathing a whole lot of nothing. Everything is too bright, too loud, and too plastic. It’s the opposite of the wide-open spaces and fresh air of Montana. Every time I come here for a competition, I tell myself it’ll be the last time. Get in, win, and get the hell out of here.
I’m in an especially bad mood today. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Julia before she left. She was on a call on her cell phone when they left the barn and she got in the SUV. She wouldn’t even look at me as they pulled away. Last night, WSPN aired her interviews with me and Heston. She seemed a little too cozy with him for my liking and to be honest, I’m not sure if I’m just reading into it or if she might actually like the guy. But, right now, I need to put that out of my head. Today is about winning. Next week and every week after that can be about her.
I walk into the massive, empty stadium and stand still for a few seconds to let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit building. There’s a quiet beauty to this moment. This is my church, with the dirt floor and the metal stalls, and the smell of bull shit and beer. This is where heroes are made.
I make my way to the gate and stand, leaning my arms on it as I think about what I’m about to do here and what it all means. In a few hours, this building will be filled to the rafters with men, women, and children who want to see the impossible. They want to see man triumph over beast. And I’m going to give them what they want or die trying.
The door opens behind me, spilling in light from the street, bringing voices with them. I turn to see Julia walking in, chatting to the woman next to her. She looks beautiful, her hair down around her shoulders in big, blonde waves. She’s wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, and a plaid button-up shirt that hugs her curves. It’s all I can do not to walk up to her, grab her by the hips and kiss her long and hard. She glances in my direction and her mouth drops. For a second, she stops talking and the woman next to her looks at me, too. Recovering quickly, Julia, says, “Oh, hi, Ryder. Good luck this week.”
Her tone is business-like and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she completely forgot what happened between us. I give her a small wave and open my mouth to speak, but they walk on by. The door opens again and soon I find myself surrounded by several of my competitors, their managers and agents. The silence is stolen from me, just like my heart. It’s just as well. My heart won’t be of use to me right now. Now, it’s all about backbone and focus.
An hour later, I’m sitting in the change room with the other riders. Beers are being passed around for liquid courage, but I refuse. I sit on the bench with my eyes closed, waiting for my name to be called. It’s a rough day out there, based on the shape that some of the other riders are in when their turns are over. It’s like these bulls hate Vegas as much as I do. Three guys have already been taken straight to the hospital, a fact which TJ Heston can’t stop going on about. Getting irritated with the all the noise and carrying on, I get up, grab my cowboy hat off the bench, and go for a walk down the long hallway.
The worst thing I could do is to go into the arena and watch the other riders. It gets in your head to see another guy get thrown or stomped. Instead, I make a right and head toward the doors to the street, but I stop when I hear her voice.
“How about if I just pet a bull? That’s probably enough for the viewers.”
The man she’s talking to says, “Look, Julia, you know what the people want to see. They want to see you sitting on a bull. They want to feel nervous that something could happen—which it won’t because we’ve picked a really docile animal. Plus, TJ will be there in case anything happens.”
My heart pounds with rage and I ball up my fists as I stalk over to them. “You’re not putting her on a bull.”
“Excuse me?” the man says, looking up at me. He’s in a suit and even though he’s trying to puff himself up to look bigger, we both know I could snap him in half like a twig.
I tower over him. “I said, you’re not putting her on a bull. Certainly not any of the ones in this building.”
He gives me a smug look that I’d like to wipe off his Ivy League face. “Ryder, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
“Well, Ryder, since this is none of your business, I’ll thank you to move along.”
“It is every bit my business.”
He folds his arms and smiles. “And exactly how do you figure that?”
“Because I’m a man and real men don’t stand by while some dickhead puts a woman’s life at risk.”
“Yeah, sorry, but I don’t answer to you.”
“You will if she gets hurt. And I c
an assure you that you won’t like how I deliver the question.” I grab him by his shirt and pull him up onto his tiptoes.
His tough guy act dissolves immediately and he puts his hands up in surrender, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do with him, yet. I’m so filled with rage, I just might give him a preview of what’ll happen if he doesn’t listen to me.
Julia touches my arm with her hand. “Ryder, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”
“There’s nothing fine about any of this.” I don’t look at her, but keep leaning over her boss. “She’s a professional reporter, not some fucking clown.” When I release him from my grip, I do it hard, so he falls back on his heels and stumbles.
“You’re a psycho,” he says in a whiny voice.
“And don’t you forget it.” I give him a slow smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
He turns and hurries off, leaving me alone with Julia. When I turn to her, she doesn’t look happy. She crosses her arms and says, “What the hell was that?”
“Me protecting you.”
“The only one I need to be protected from is you.” She swallows hard. “Nobody has ever…”
She trails off, then shakes her head and turns from me, following her boss. I catch her arm and spin her to me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Tugging her arm away from me, she says, “Yeah, well, you failed.”
I hear my name called from the loudspeakers. “Ryder West to the chutes, please.”
Sighing, I reach up and run my fingers along her soft cheek. “I’m going to fix everything. Just give me a little time.”
Julia shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”
I’m in the chute with an ornery white bull named Pounder. Just getting the ropes secured has been a hell of a fight and I know I’m in for it. He slams my leg against the metal to let me know what’s coming. Pain sears through my right side, but I ignore it. Good thing I’m in the same mood as Pounder. We’re going to get along just fine.