No Accounting for Cowboys

by Leah Braemel

  “What was—” he adjusted the angle of the kiss, “—stopping you?”

  “Your momma.”

  A laugh erupted from him that quickly died when she cupped his groin with her palm. “Let’s get inside before we give the neighbors a show.”

  No argument from him. He broke off the kiss and opened the door, tugging her across the seat. The moment her butt hit the edge of the seat, she wrapped her legs around his waist, the warmth of her pressing against his erection. Holy crap, let him at least make it inside before he came in his pants. Yet when she tried to lower her legs he held her tight against him.

  A huff of laughter and she gave up, resting her head on his shoulder. “You know, I am capable of walking on my own.”

  He grunted. “Hey, I’m trying to be romantic here.”

  Her lips brushed his neck, sending his cock apeshit to bury itself inside her. “No one’s ever carried me like this before.”

  Except for his younger cousin Emma, he’d never carried a woman to her door before either. And Emma didn’t count since she’d only been four to his twelve and she’d hurt her ankle. And his cousin, so there hadn’t been any romance to it at all.

  He shifted Paige’s weight and moved away from the truck’s door, slamming it closed with his ass. Praying he didn’t stumble over a rake or a rogue stone, he aimed for the front door, though she made it more difficult to see his path by continuing to kiss him.

  “Keys?” he mumbled around her lips.

  A jangling sound beside his ear told him she had them ready; he angled them sideways so she could unlock the door. The moment the door closed, she lowered her legs and pressed him against the front panels. She’d unzipped the hot-as-hell sexy leather vest she’d worn as a top, and let it fall at her feet. Sweet baby Jesus, his mouth watered at the two perfect moonlit breasts she revealed. While he’d suspected she hadn’t worn a bra, being presented with proof in such a spectacular and unasked fashion made his mouth water.

  With each rise of her chest a pair of nipple rings glittered in the moonlight, hinting that they contained stones that matched the dangling belly button piercing.

  The hell on her taking control. Bending his arms around her waist, he switched positions until her back was pressed against the door. He caught her mouth with his, delved for the kiss he’d been craving. One where he didn’t have to keep an ear open for someone interrupting them.

  All his concentration on Paige, he allowed himself to sink into her scent—leather and something darker, spicier today—and the feel of her body against his. How her chest rose, her breath, each soft exhale on his cheek a kiss all its own.

  Holding her hands above her head with one hand, he let the other roam over her body. Her breasts were soft like damned silk, making him aware of the calluses on his fingers and palms. He tugged her nipple ring, swallowing her quiet moan with each pull. Her murmured “Jake” held a hint of frustration.

  Doubly determined to make this a night to remember, he slowed down even more. He broke off their kiss and whispered his lips over her cheek, down her neck. He let go of her hands as he lowered his head and teased a taut nipple with his tongue, flicking the dangling jewelry to add to the intensity. Her hands free, she cupped her breasts, lifting them, making it easier for him to flick the dangling jewelry. While he’d imagined her naked in bed far too many nights the past week, the nipple rings were a fantasy he’d never considered. Though considering the number of studs in her ears, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

  He lowered himself to his knees, and worked the tight leather of her skirt up over her hips. And found himself facing a thin landing strip instead of the panties or thong he’d been expecting. “Holy fuck,” he breathed, noting a tattoo on her hip he wanted to check out later when the light was better. Then, setting the thought aside, he buried his head and swiped his tongue along her labia. Parted them. Fuck she tasted good.

  He nudged her legs farther apart. Leaned in. Licked. Nibbled. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, he didn’t care if she pulled it all out. He just didn’t want her to stop making those sweet little panted moans, or for her hips to stop rotating against his mouth. The moment he tunneled a finger inside her, her lips parted with a murmured “oh yeah” and her head fell against the door panel.

  Another finger followed, his tongue keeping up its continuous assault, stabbing and slapping at her clit until her pussy tightened around his fingers. Her panted moans lengthened and her hips jerked as she came in the sweetest climax he’d ever witnessed.

  Once her climax receded, he climbed back up her body again, pressing kisses on the tattoo, up her belly, toying with the belly button charm for a second before resuming the journey, a tug on each nipple, until he was upright.

  “I need to touch you.” Her movements frantic, she dragged his shirt over his shoulders. His belt was unbuckled next, then his fly. Before his jeans could sag to his ankles he slapped at the pocket.

  “What’s the matter?” Frustration filled her voice. “I want you naked.”

  “Condom...in...back...pocket.” She fished it out, pushed his jeans and his briefs to his knees, and rolled the condom on with the most intoxicating and infuriating speed, smoothing the latex down his full length.

  The minute she finished, he hooked her butt in the air, letting her hike her legs around his waist. It took a few adjustments, them both groaning when her hand closed around the length of his shaft and guided it to her opening. Her head hit the door panel as he thrust the full length inside her in one easy glide.

  “Fuck.” Liquid heat surrounded his cock, her tight passage clenching him. There was no way he was going to last long this first go-round.

  His brain checked out, letting the animalistic side of him free. His body knew what to do, pounding hard and fast into her, reveling in her sighs and her moans, feeding on the energy of the slaps of skin on skin. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her thighs tightened around him, her pussy too. The light scent of her perfume, mingled with the cologne he’d put on just for her, highlighting the musky scent of sex. It was the most intoxicating smell he’d ever encountered, and if he got even a hint of her perfume again, he’d be transported to being buried inside her.

  “Harder,” she breathed. One hand left his shoulder, cupped her breast and plucked at the nipple ring, tugging and twisting.

  He reached between them, flicking on her clit, matching the rhythm she used. The tiny flickers of her inner muscles jumped, clamped onto him. Her whole body seized, her back arching away from the doorway, her head dropping back, engulfing him as she climaxed.

  Holy fuck, he’d never been with a woman who was so responsive.

  As her climax receded, she untangled her legs from around his waist, and pulling his cock out of her, let her feet drop to the floor. Panting, she braced herself against the door. “Bedroom.”

  Hell yeah, if he didn’t finish soon, he was going to get the worst case of blue balls of his life. She grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall, stopping when he got tangled in the pants still around his ankles. He kicked them off and grabbed her. “Who needs a bed? All I need is a floor.”

  He lowered them both to the hallway carpet, drawing her on top of him.

  “Ooh, I like this position. It’s one of my favorites,” she cooed as she straddled his thighs and took his cock in one hand, stroking it firmly. Holy fuck, his balls tightened as the “I want inside her right the fuck now” mantra lit up his system.

  Pushing her hand away, he squeezed his hand around the base of his cock before he shot off in mid-air. “I want to finish in you.”

  A sassy smile on her face, she positioned her entrance over him again. “Say the magic word.”

  “What?”

  She pointed to the tattoo on her hip.

  He shook his head in confusion. “I can’t read it. It’s too dark.” Come on
really? What was she trying to do? Give him an industrial-strength case of blue balls here?

  One eyebrow arched up. “It’s the Door of Durin. You have to say the magic word before you can enter.”

  You gotta be fucking kidding me. “Uh, I’ve already been in your magic cave.” And it was a completely magical fantasy. One he wanted to experience again right the hell now as much as he appreciated that she was a fellow Lord of the Rings fan.

  She leaned in so her lips were beside his ear and breathed, “What’s the magic word, Jake?” Her movement dragged his overly-sensitive cock through her cleft, making him groan.

  What was the word Gandalf finally used? Friend. Except it turned out that wasn’t her secret word. He tilted his head and considered the challenge she’d set. “How about Orgasm?” No. “G-spot.” It couldn’t be fuck, could it? “Cock. Dick. Tongue?” Still no joy. Oh, it couldn’t be that simple. Could it? “Please?”

  “Bingo.” With a sassy grin, she slid down onto his shaft and rode him to the sweetest, most mind-blowing oblivion he’d ever experienced.

  By the time his brain reconnected with his body, she was skimming her hand through his chest hair. “I like a guy who’s natural. Never understood guys who feel the need to manscape.”

  Moonlight came through the window in the room behind her, edging her in a silvery halo. God, she was beautiful, her hair all wild, her lips swollen from his kisses. She opened her eyes, the passion in them flooring him. This was no quickie to her either. No scratching of an itch. The ground shifted like they were in the middle of an earthquake, then he realized it hadn’t moved. He’d changed, or she had changed him. Oh boy, he’d better be careful or he could get in over his head. Keep it light.

  He tugged on the long strand of hair trailing over his chest. “You sure you haven’t ever ridden a horse? Because you’re quite the cowgirl.”

  “From the way you were bucking, I’m pretty sure I’d qualify for the rodeo.” She licked his nipple and blew. “Especially since you lasted way longer than eight seconds.”

  “You know we’d be more comfortable in the bedroom.”

  “Would have killed the spontaneity.” Lifting her hips she withdrew from him, his balls seizing as the cool air engulfed his softening dick. She reached up and flicked on the light switch.

  He blinked and not just because of the blinding light overhead. Was that really...she’d dyed her landing strip to match the tips of her hair in a festive cotton candy pink. The laugh started in his chest and boiled over until he rolled on his side and held his belly.

  Paige poked him in an aching rib. “Hey, laughing isn’t sexy.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be dyed...there.”

  “A girl’s gotta accessorize—when I found the dye online I figured what the hell. I mean, you know what they say about the collar needing to match the cuffs.”

  “I’ve always heard that it was the carpet matching the drapes.” If this woman could make him laugh, he was going to be in serious trouble. Although he suspected he was already knee deep in the relationship quagmire and sinking fast.

  Chapter Six

  His body aching both from another hard day’s work but also from making love to Paige late into the night every night for the last four nights, Jake pulled his ball cap lower against the glare of the harsh July sun. She’d been at the ranch two weeks now. Though she hadn’t said much, her questions had ended days before. He suspected she was close to being done updating their books. She’d have no reason to stay at the ranch then.

  Other than for me. But considering they’d only known each other two weeks, it was too early to ask her to move in with him. Wasn’t it? Strange how though he’d known her such a short time, he felt he knew her so well. She knew him better than anyone. There was something about her that made him open up to her. Reveal parts of himself he’d not felt comfortable talking about with anyone else.

  He revved the ATV across the cracked earth of what used to be a stream bed and muscled the machine up the bank on the opposite side, the trailer filled with fencing and tools rattling behind him. Fields stretched in front of him, a relentless brown swath of parched grass broken only by the occasional green-leafed scrub or prickly pear. A gray smudge on the horizon marred the endless blue sky, a reminder of an out-of-control grass fire twenty miles away.

  Please don’t let it jump the highway and onto our land. Not that he wished any of the ranches in the other direction harm, but holy shit, hadn’t they already gone through enough?

  The ATV whipped past the heavy ten-foot posts erected to withstand the assault of a two thousand pound determined male bison. This was the last stretch of the two thousand acres they’d set aside for the herd that still lacked the extra foot of barbed wire above the regular fence. He slowed as he reached the gate and scanned the area. Damn it. No sign of the two new hands who were supposed to be helping him. A check of his watch showed he was ten minutes early. Okay, so he’d cut ’em some slack. For the moment.

  As he unloaded the wire and tools, one of the bison raised his massive head and eyed him, a clump of weed hanging from his mouth.

  “Yeah yeah, I’m not a threat. Chill and go back to eating.” He propped the ladder against the first post and returned for the rest of his tools. Threads of lyrics swirled around his head, some of the things he’d whispered to Paige the night before, more that he’d wanted to say. Wasn’t it always the way that the best lines came to him the next day.

  He whipped out his phone and scrolled through to the voice recorder. Like always, he started out speaking but ended up singing the words, in a variety of ways until something worked for him. Fast, slow. Soft, raucous. Bluesy. Old country, new.

  Memories spurred on the lyrics, songs that would never be written or at least sung in public. Homages to how her legs had wrapped round his waist as she’d lain back upon his bed the night before, the way her eyes darkened as she drew him into her body, the quiet exhale each time he withdrew, the softness of her skin, the brush of her lips across his skin, over his cock.

  And on Saturday, the sheer joy when she’d climbed on her motorcycle and challenged him to ride behind her when they decided to go to a diner for lunch.

  Heat flashed through him at the memory of her taking off her helmet once they’d returned to the ranch. How the sun had glistened off her hair like a halo, bright against dark, of her dragging him up the stairs to her room, trying to be quiet as they passed his mother’s room, followed by Paige stripping and making love to him. The ache forming in his dick didn’t ease when he remembered waking up the next morning, wrapped around her like a blanket. Having dinner with her the next night, the two of them ending up in the pool at sunset, both buck naked, water sloshing between them as she lowered herself onto his—

  “Hey, dickhead, you gonna keep standing there like a statue or are we gonna get this fence finished?”

  Jake started from his reverie. Gabe stared down from atop his Appaloosa, Paint. The sun was right behind his head, silhouetting him, forcing Jake to squint.

  Thank God he’d stopped singing. Not that Gabe didn’t know he sung he just...yeah, why give him more ammunition, right? He stopped the app and shoved his phone in his pocket, taking the opportunity to adjust the cloth over his erection, praying Gabe didn’t notice his hard-on “What are you doin’ out here?” Shit. “I mean, I thought you were in town or something.”

  “Yeah, well, the meeting got canceled.” Gabe dismounted with a fluid grace that Jake envied. “Then that noob, Denny, who was supposed to be helping you up here cut himself and had to go for stitches so I figured since it was a two person job...”

  So instead of sending someone else, Gabe came himself? Was Gabe using it as a way to make things right? Might things finally start settling between them? A pressure that had been sitting on his chest the entire year eased. Jake resettled his cap, pulli
ng it lower over his eyes. “Let’s get to it then. Do you want to be the one up on the ladder or the one on the ground.”

  “Whatever,” Gabe snapped. “Can we just get the damned job done?”

  Okay then, fuck the warm and fuzzy thoughts that maybe things were getting better between them. Were they still playing this stupid game? “I get that you’re pissed at me. But I said I was sorry—what the fuck more do you want from me?”

  “Your nutsac in a Burdizzo clamp?” His jaw setting, Gabe grabbed the end of the barbed wire and shoved it at Jake.

  His balls shriveled at the thought of being crushed in the castration device. “We’re splitting the ranch up fair and square. We didn’t have to do that.”

  “There it is.” Gabe jabbed a finger into his chest. “That’s my problem. You’re treating the whole cutting me in thing like you’re doing me some big favor.”

  “It is a big favor.” Sensing he was sliding a slope into some murky water, he back pedaled. “Okay, it’s not a favor. It’s the right thing to do. But we—”

  “But you didn’t have to do it. I get it.”

  “So are you saying you don’t want to be a part owner?”

  “I’m saying stop shovin’ it in my face as if you expect me to fall on my knees and thank you every damned time I see you.”

  Had he been shoving it in Gabe’s face? Had Ben? As Jake considered the revelation, Gabe kicked the wire roll toward the next post.

  “Pot to kettle, dude.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about now? I didn’t keep any secrets from my best friend.”

  “Because apparently you’re suddenly incapable of keeping secrets. Hell you’ve got a damned fog horn built into you now, don’t you?”

  “What the fuck are you goin’ on about?”

  Jake dragged out his phone once more, called up his texts until he found Ben’s message. He held the screen up for Gabe to read.