Cowgirl Education: a Camden Ranch Novel

by Jillian Neal

  “Sounds like a shitlicker that needs to get his ass whupped. I have shit-kickin’ boots just for occasions like that.”

  She loved Dec’s laugh. Love the way it eased the tensed lines of his face and the way the light played in the grey of his eyes when she said something he found funny.

  “I swear, I fall more and more in love with you with every passing moment. I suppose he would be Sir Shitlicker as he was knighted for exemplary service in Psychology. Your boots won’t be necessary. I’m just thrilled to be done with the lot of them.”

  “Knighted like with the sword and the Queen and everything?”

  “The Queen and everything. I attended the ceremony. His daughter, my wife at the time,” he shuddered and Holly couldn’t help but grin, “was in Paris with her lover and was therefore indisposed and could not attend.”

  “I’m sorry about everything bad that happened to you, Dec. I’m sorry you had to be around people like that.”

  He turned on the eye under the pot of rice he’d measured out before he came to stand between her legs. “Most of it was of my own making. I’m sorry for what it cost my family and Evie. Mostly, I’m sorry you have to deal with my shitty mistakes.”

  “So you made some mistakes. We all make mistakes. I’m in love with you. We’re worth everything we have to do to make this work.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

  “I couldn’t agree more. I just hope it doesn’t end up like every other thing in my life seems to.”

  “It won’t.” Holly sat back when he went to stir the rice.

  His brow furrowed when she ran her right hand through her hair. “What happened here, love?” He took her hand and planted a kiss in the center of her palm along the long white scarred skin.

  “Grabbed the wrong end of the branding iron when I was four. See, documented proof that we all screw up.”

  “You were four. Pretty sure that does not qualify as anything more than being a curious child.”

  “My poor daddy. He’ll never forgive himself for it. He’d laid the iron down while we were working cattle. I got to it before he realized. I feel bad he still feels so guilty about it.”

  “Speaking of your father, may I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” Holly wondered what he wanted to know about her daddy.

  “Occasionally, being a sex therapist gets the better of me and I can’t quite leave all of my work at work. Feel free to tell me to blow off. I just wondered if your father ever spanked you.”

  A flood of heat scalded Holly’s cheeks and her first reaction to that question was to laugh hysterically.

  “Something funny?” Dec was chuckling too.

  Holly scrubbed her hands over her face, hoping to rid herself of the rash of redness discussing being spanked brought on. She didn’t fully understand why she found the thought of Everett Camden spanking either her or her sister so funny, but she couldn’t seem to regain her composure.

  “I’m truly lost, Hol.”

  Finally able to draw breath, she grinned, no longer caring that she probably looked like an overly ripe tomato. “You called me Hol. I love that.”

  “I heard Beth call you that in class Wednesday, and Trace calls you that. I liked how intimate it sounds. I wanted to try it out.”

  “Everyone who loves me calls me that, so you should keep calling me that. To answer your question, my daddy would never in this lifetime or ten others have ever laid a hand on me or Natalie. He barely ever even spanked my brothers, and trust me, occasionally they deserved it. It’s just not his style. Plus, I’m the baby and I am a spoiled brat, just ask my brothers.”

  Still chuckling, Dec brushed a kiss on top of her head. “I completely understand your father wanting to spoil you, but you are far from a brat. I was ever so briefly married to a brat, so I would know. Now, tell me this — if this all goes off as planned, what will your father and brothers think of me being the guy that wants to make you his forever? Former drug user, dealer with a record, sex therapist, the whole deal.”

  “You forgot heavily tattooed and pierced rock star. Have to paint the whole bad boy picture.” Holly rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, all of that.”

  “To borrow one of my mama’s favorite expressions, I don’t give a half a hoot or a holler what anyone thinks of us, baby. You’re mine. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me. I can honestly say I didn’t even know what love was until I met you. My brothers will get over it. All my daddy wants is for me to be happy. You make me very happy. Now, feed me, I’m hungry.”

  “Just fed you, didn’t I?” Dec winked at her.

  “Very funny.”

  “Oh, you mean something besides my cock.”

  “For now.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  With her stomach full of warm, spicy curry and rice and her body limp from the first orgasm of many over the course of their weekend, Holly lolled naked on Dec’s couch, tucked up on his chest.

  “Absolutely incredible,” he sighed.

  “Me leaning over the couch with my ass in the air, or are you applauding your own prowess, Dr. St. James?”

  “My own skill, obviously.”

  Giggling, she ran her hand up his chest and twisted his nipple.

  “Don’t make me spank you again,” he teased.

  “But that was my entire plan.”

  “I do love how incredibly naughty you are, darling, and this is the problem with dating an old guy. I’m beat.”

  “You’re not old. I just wore you out. I could make coffee.”

  “Drugging oneself to stay awake is not really the best idea.”

  “We can go to bed if you want.”

  “Nah, just give me a minute. It’s still early and after tomorrow night I have to go yet another week without you. I don’t want to sleep at all. I want to spend every moment I have with you.”

  “We do have to sleep some. Besides, I love sleeping in your arms. I never want to sleep any other way.”

  “You in my arms is the only way I sleep. Believe me, I want the same thing.”

  Glancing around his living room, Holly noted the three guitars mounted on display over the mantle. She wondered where the ones he actually played were located. “Hey, Dec?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Would you play for me?”

  “Sit up.” He patted her backside and then guided her up off of the couch. “Come with me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My music room is down in the basement. I had it finished out when I moved in. The acoustics down there are brilliant and it’s soundproofed. I can play anything you want as loud as you’d like without making my neighbors despise me.”

  “I doubt they could hear much. They’re so far away.”

  “Yet another thing I love about this house. Come on.” Dec grabbed the t-shirt he’d pulled on for dinner and tugged it over her body. She inhaled deeply, loving the way it felt against her skin.

  When he’d slipped back into his workout shorts, he took her hand and led her down a long stairwell.

  Grabbing one of his favorite Stratocasters, Dec settled in his chair and grinned as Holly extended herself on the black leather sofa he’d procured for the music room. She was framed between his wall of mounted vinyls. The Gibson signed by Dave Grohl and the Fender Telecaster signed by Eddie Veder hung on the wall over the couch, two massive amps, his pickguard signed by none other than Van Halen, and his massive Radio 1 tower sign took up all of the wall opposite the room. Had he not been certain the most stunningly beautiful thing he’d ever seen was her climaxing hard and fast on his cock, he would have assumed this was beauty personified.

  “Dec, this room is amazing. Did you meet all of these people?”

  “A few. Opened for Pearl Jam once before I crashed and burned.”

  “Oh my gosh, I had no idea. I mean, not that you aren’t a fantastic musician, I just didn’t know how famous you were.”

  He tried not to let the word
were sting, but it did. All part of what he’d lost when he’d chosen cocaine over music.

  “What would the lady like to hear?” He made a few tuning adjustments while he let the regret wash over him yet again. Feeling that regret, the reminder, made it easier not to make the same mistakes again.

  “Will you play my song?” She bit her lip like she wasn’t certain that was an allowable request.

  With that tender timid question, the regret was washed away. He couldn’t access his mistakes. He was staring at his future smiling at him sweetly. As he began her song, the past slipped through his strumming fingers.

  He hadn’t expected the tears she was blinking away when he finished. “I can’t believe you wrote that for me.”

  “I can’t believe you love me.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “I know.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Holly shifted on the couch to study him.

  “Anything, baby.”

  “You never told me why you hate The Beatles, but I get the feeling there’s a really good reason.”

  “My father loved them. I spent the better part of my teens learning to play American rock because I knew deep down it pissed him off. I refused to ever play The Beatles and that was all he ever listened to. I’m sure what I wanted was for him to finally blow up and shout at me, do anything but drink and refuse to communicate. It never worked, but I still can’t listen to them without wanting to vomit.”

  “I knew there was a good reason. I’m so sorry, Dec.”

  “Don’t be.” He shook his head. “Not worth being sorry over now. Hit me with another request?”

  Her smile returned though it bore the weight of being forced. “Your Van Halen riffs are pretty amazing, but I also love old school Pearl Jam. Oh, and lately I’ve been all about Arctic Monkeys.”

  “You are without a doubt the most perfect woman there has ever been.”

  “That’s right. I am, just never forget that,” she teased.

  “Never, baby.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  There was another small puddle of drool on his chest when Dec awoke the next morning and grinned rather stupidly, he was certain. He loved that she slept deeply enough to allow herself that.

  She’d also fucked him so thoroughly the night before there was no real need for him to work out that morning. His cravings were at an all-time low. Sex, it was good for so many things.

  He noted the slight change in her breathing and wondered if she’d awoken or if she was dreaming. In that brief moment existing between slumber and consciousness, he allowed himself to imagine a real life with her.

  In a few months’ time, if they were incredibly lucky, they could ease into letting his colleagues at the University know that they were dating. Sure, people would be suspicious that it might’ve started earlier, but there would be no proof and she would no longer be his student.

  A year from now, he’d leave the University, go back to counseling full time, and resume the life he’d come here to live with permanent residence. They could work together. He could help her with her research and getting her degree. She didn’t need Newsome. He could be her advisor. He’d help her do anything in the world she wanted to do.

  Newsome. His dinner that evening weighted his future planning. Having Holly in his home felt so right. The house itself was happier when she was there. She fit. A missing piece to his puzzle that slipped right in quickly, like it had known where it belonged all along. He had no interest in going to dinner with his new boss. It robbed him of precious time with her. If they were going to develop a healthy relationship concealed from the world, they needed to be together as much as possible.

  But the world was a cold cruel place. He of all people knew that.

  “What are you thinking about?” Her sleepy tone eased his mind and his soul.

  “How did you know I was up thinking?”

  “You were sound asleep. Your heartbeat was steady. Then you moved a little and got tense.”

  “I’m sorry, love, I was lamenting my dinner with Newsome. I don’t want to leave you to spend time kissing his ass when I could be here licking yours.”

  Leaning up on her arm, she grinned down at him with her hair in a wild mane that he found sexy as hell. “Newsome isn’t the kind of guy that wants his ass kissed, I swear, and it’s only for a few hours. My human sexuality professor assigned me a paper I have to work on anyway.”

  “What a tosser, giving you homework when he knows you only get to be naked with him on the weekends.”

  “I know. He’s a real hard ass.” That infectious giggle was going to be his undoing.

  “He should be punished.”

  “Mmm, and how would he like me to do that?”

  “Well, actually, he was thinking that you’ve been terribly remiss when it comes to our love making, Ms. Camden.”

  “Oh really? And what exactly is it I haven’t done.”

  Dec ran his hands down her soft curves, naked against him. Shifting to his back, he guided her up over his waist, straddling her tender pussy against his morning wood. “You, my sexy little cowgirl, have failed to show me just how well you ride.”

  She slid back and forth against him making him lengthen and throb. His cock knew precisely how to get where it desperately wanted to be. A delectable shiver shook through her when his piercing found her clit. “Well, Dr. St. James, it seems I’m all mounted up, so allow me to show you. Fair warning, I like to ride rough and dirty.”

  “I like rough and dirty.”

  “I know.”

  “Ride me, cowgirl.”

  Holly refused to be one of those girls that pouted. That was so not her. Cowgirls got up dusted themselves off, and either got back on the horse or got revenge on whatever had knocked them down, but Dec looked way too sexy dressed in a suit and combing his hair to be going out without her. Not that she resented being stuck in his house working on a paper while he went to dinner at the Rodizio, but she was disappointed. This time there was no one to even be mad at. There was no horse to get back on. He had to go. She had to stay. Neither of them liked it.

  “If you keep frowning like that, I’m going to call him and cancel. Don’t give, as you like to say, a half a holler and a hoot what he thinks about it.”

  Grinning at her mother’s saying in Dec’s accent, Holly handed him his chosen tie. “It’s a half hoot and a holler, get it right, St. James.”

  “Dreadfully sorry, love. I’m still trying to get the intricacies of American English down. I’ll add cowgirl dialect to my studies next.”

  “You can’t cancel on Newsome. Plus, maybe you can put in a few good words for me.”

  “Obviously, discussing you will be my only goal for the evening. We can go over how intoxicating I find your laughter, how bloody brilliant you are, how exquisite your taste in music is, or how addicted I am to your stunningly gorgeous body, and how I intend to know every square inch of your silky skin long before this semester is over. The way your tits rob me of breath, the perfection of your ass and how pink I can turn it when I smack your bottom, or perhaps that exquisite little sound you make for me when my apa hits just the right spots. Or, I know, I could tell him how adorable I find it that you drool in your sleep.”

  Holly narrowed her eyes, caught between laughter and shoving him across the large master bathroom for pointing out those things to her. “I feel you really should remember how skilled I am with a rope, Dr. St. James.”

  “Does that mean if I keep teasing you, you’ll show me your rope skills, honey? Dr. Newsome, sir, terribly sorry to miss our planned evening, I’m all tied up, quite literally.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Rolling her eyes, Holly pinched his overly firm asscheek through his trousers.

  “I’ll be home in a few hours and we can get to more of that.”

  “Would you behave?”

  “Probably not. Especially since I’m about to have to go sit through dinner pretending that I haven’t just had the best twenty-four ho
urs of my entire life and trying not to lament that you’re leaving to go work cattle early in the morning, meaning I get to return to my miserable existence without you.”

  “Believe me, I’d much rather be here than preg-testing mama cows, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  Dec cringed. “I suddenly feel a great deal of empathy for both you and the cows.”

  With a squirt of the cologne Holly adored, he declared himself ready. Since Holly had spent the day lounging in one of his vintage Radiohead t-shirts, she took the liberty of adding a fresh squeeze of the cologne. At least she’d could smell him while he was gone.

  “You’re killing me, love.” Standing in his bathroom, he drew her into his arms and held her close, both of them willing time to freeze in that moment.

  Holly tried to shake off the feelings of abandonment lest she inadvertently become one of those clingy girls that she found despicable. “I’ll be fine. I’m gonna work on my paper and watch the game.”

  “What game?”

  “We’re playing Fresno tonight.”

  “Who is we?”

  “UN.”

  “Ah, that’s what all of the insanity was about on campus yesterday.”

  “Don’t Brits watch soccer all the time?”

  “No, we watch football. Real football. I have no idea why you call football soccer or why you play football at all. Has it never occurred to anyone else that only one player’s foot ever even touches the ball?”

  “Definitely do not say that to my brothers when you meet them.”

  “Noted, now come with me.”

  He led her back down the stairs to a small room off of the entryway she hadn’t yet seen. Opening two sliding pocket doors he revealed an elaborate office. The walls were lined with bookshelves and a massive desk sat front and center.

  “Most every book I used to get my doctorate, along with a few dozen others on all things sex therapy and development, are right here. Computer, much better than the shitty one you have, for looking up source information.” He opened his personal laptop and set it on the desk. “And of course, pencils.” He lifted two mugs full of Tombow pencils, one from the desk and one on a shelf in front of a line of books. “Now, I love you. I will try to keep this short, and when you finish your paper I will reward your efforts mightily.”