Redneck Romeo (Rough Riders)

by Lorelei James

  She jacked his shaft slowly. Then quickly. Her tongue mapped every inch of his dick from root to tip. She sucked his nuts until they were hard and tight. Then she returned to deep throating him while her thumb swept over his anus. His thighs quivered. His abdominals were straining. His vision wavered.

  Motherfucking hell, could she suck cock. This was epic.

  Then her finger breached his asshole and she stroked the spot inside that sent a jolt of pleasure zipping through his entire body.

  “Don’t stop. So fucking close,” he panted. His heart raced and he pumped his pelvis, trying to match her rhythm.

  “Hold still.”

  “I’m tryin’… Oh, sweet lord, do that again.”

  Her hand stroked as rapidly on his shaft as her tongue flicked on the cockhead. Her mouth stopped long enough to say, “Watch me.”

  Dalton’s eyes were starting to lose focus but he kept his gaze on her.

  She rubbed that spot inside him; the slap slap slap sound of her hand working his cock bounced off the bathroom tile. When she used her teeth on the underside of the rim—that kicked him over.

  “Fuck.”

  But Rory didn’t hollow her cheeks and swallow that first spurt. It landed on her lips. Then she angled back and aimed the come shooting from his cock at her tits. Milky drop after milky drop hit her creamy flesh and clung before slowly sliding down the slope of her breast.

  His body shook from her intimate touch, but also from the sexy way she closed her eyes and arched back. Biting her lip and softly moaning as if she were coming.

  And she didn’t let up. Her hand pulled every last twitch from his cock, her finger rubbed every last pulse in his ass, and those actions together milked every last bit of seed from his balls.

  Even as he struggled to regain his sanity, he stared at the uninhibited woman who took as much pleasure out of giving it as she did receiving it.

  Then Rory opened those stunning green eyes. She slid her finger from his ass as her tongue darted out to capture the pearly drop of come clinging to the edge of her lips.

  Unfuckingbelievably hot.

  Dalton practically leapt off the edge and on top of her. Fisting his hand in the messy topknot, he took possession of her mouth. Tasting himself, tasting the passion that exploded between them.

  With his other hand he wiped his come from her chest. His fingers plucked her nipples. His palms smoothed over the heavy swells of her tits. He couldn’t touch her enough. He ate at her mouth, sucked on her tongue, nibbled on her velvety lips. Then his hand followed the plane of her stomach, past the tight curls, straight down that juicy slit. He swirled his middle finger around the opening several times and pushed it inside that tight channel. The heat and slickness of her pussy already stirred his cock for round two. He fucked his finger in and out slowly, kissing her in the same purposeful way.

  “More,” she said against his lips. “Please.”

  “You are wet.” His mouth slid to the tip of her chin. “Did you touch yourself while you were waitin’ on me?”

  “No. God that feels so good.” Rory tipped her head back, allowing full access to her neck.

  He slipped in another finger, pushing a little deeper, moving a little faster. His tongue lapped at the water beaded on her skin. He released her hair to toy with her nipples. Pinching and tugging the points—until her gasps became soft moans.

  He swept his thumb over the edge of her pussy, stopping at her clit. “I wanna hear you when you come.” Then Dalton slid the pad of his thumb over that bundle of nerves, his fingers inside her rubbed her pussy wall behind her pubic bone.

  Rory tensed, knowing he hadn’t put his mouth on her yet and whatever he did next would send her flying.

  Dalton pinched her nipple hard and latched onto the pulse point in her throat; his tongue mimicked the cadence of his stroking thumb.

  A husky wail drifted from her mouth—he felt the vibration on his lips as he sucked on her neck. Her body went rigid as her blood pulsed beneath his thumb and her pussy clamped down on his fingers.

  Sexy as hell.

  When Rory moved her head forward, Dalton backed off and slipped his fingers from her. Sliding his lips up the strong column of her neck, he rubbed his cheek along her jaw and swallowed her shallow breaths in a long kiss.

  He finally released her lips and smiled. “Takin’ a bath with you is some fun, jungle girl.”

  Rory smiled back. “You know it.” She snagged her margarita. “Wanna stay in a little longer?”

  “Yep. I hardly touched my beer.” He reached for it and cranked on the hot water. Then he reached for her. “I love the feel of your wet body against mine.”

  She settled between his thighs, her back to his chest. She sighed and turned her head to kiss his jaw. “Thanks.”

  “For?”

  “Bringing me here.”

  “Anytime. I just hope you’re not too bored tomorrow.”

  “So I can’t stand behind you while you’re at the table and offer advice?”

  Dalton snorted. “You already offered your advice in song form, remember?”

  “But you have to admit the luck of the draw plays a part.”

  “Some. But card strategy and the ability to bluff are more key. There are two types of card players who win consistently.”

  Beneath the water she absentmindedly caressed his left thigh. “What types are they?”

  “Methodical. The ability to gauge the worth of an opponent’s cards by watching the betting strategy they use.”

  “Are you methodical?”

  “I’m an instinctual player. I don’t figure the odds in my head of winning or losing if X card is flipped. I don’t go in with a plan. I just play my gut.” He laughed softly. “I have had bouts of indigestion where my gut was totally off.”

  She laughed.

  “Then there are the reckless players. They have some wins, but never consistent. They tend to play in local venues. So I’m hoping to be playin’ against a lot of players like that tomorrow night.”

  “How often do you bluff?”

  Dalton kissed the top of her head. “Whenever I have to.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “It’s an unanswerable question.” He sipped his beer. “What kind of poker player would you be?”

  “Boring. I wouldn’t take any chances. I’d be too embarrassed that I’d get caught bluffing to actually try it. I’m not reckless. And I don’t have the math skills to be methodical.” She poked his leg. “I would’ve guessed you were the reckless type.”

  “Never when it comes to cards.” Dalton put his lips on her ear. “And not when it comes to you.”

  They were quiet for a bit.

  Then Rory said, “What do you see yourself doing in Sundance after you finish the house renovations?”

  He’d wondered if she would bring this up. Like he needed to have a plan. Or another job lined up. But he didn’t want to talk about the elk farm possibility specifically, so he hedged. “I’ve got an idea, something I’ve been working on. But it’s out of my control, which makes me crazy.”

  She gasped dramatically. “No. You say you have a need for control? I never noticed it.”

  Dalton growled, “I got a couple of ways I can remind you if you like.”

  “Like what?”

  “Both my ideas involve rope. And you bein’ nekkid.”

  “What would you do?”

  “Anything I want,” he said silkily. “Because I’d have the ropes. But I’d make you come at least three times before I untied you.”

  Rory shivered and whispered, “Yes, please.”

  Setting aside his beer, he grabbed that mass of hair and angled her head to the side so his lips could barely skim the surface of her skin. “You want me to let that kinky and rougher side of myself out?”

  “Have you been holding back with me?”

  “Not at all. Why? Have I left you wanting more?”

  “More hot sex with you? Absolutely. I’d just hate i
t if you think I’m some special butterfly that needs to be handled with kid gloves. When maybe…I’m the type that wants to get tangled up in the net.” She slowly flipped around so they were chest to chest.

  Dalton cupped her chin in his hand. “We can play all the sex games you want, Aurora, but what’s goin’ on between us is not a game to me.” He pulled her closer, taking her mouth in a savage kiss. His cock swelled and she groaned softly as it pressed into her belly. He broke the kiss to command, “Outta the tub.”

  Rory pushed back and stood. Water and soap bubbles rolled down her lush body. She let him look his fill as she unpinned her hair and shook it free.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he said in a low rasp.

  She stepped over the edge and snagged a towel. She dried herself slowly, deliberately, her eyes held a hint of challenge. After wrapping the towel around her, she flounced out of the bathroom.

  He sprang out of the water. He barely ran a towel over his body before he chased after her.

  She’d nearly reached the bed when he tugged her towel free, leaving her naked. She whirled around and Dalton’s mouth was on hers, with one hand fisted in her hair, the other clamped on her left butt cheek.

  Rory’s arms wreathed his neck and she kissed him with equal ferocity.

  Dalton towed her to the living area and lowered her to the big couch.

  “Aren’t we making carpet angels in front of the fireplace?”

  “I’m not feelin’ angelic right now, Aurora.”

  Her gaze briefly dropped to his cock. In one long sinuous movement, she stretched her right arm along the plush sofa until it was artistically arranged above her head. “Bring in the devil.”

  When she put her feet up on the couch, Dalton said, “No. Keep your right foot on the floor. Like that. Press your left knee into the back of the couch so I can see every inch of your pussy.” As soon as she complied his mouth dried up. “Jesus. You’re a fucking goddess.” Then he dropped to his knees and buried in face in her cunt.

  Rory arched up and her hands automatically landed on his head.

  Dalton lifted his mouth and looked at her. “No hands on me. Next time I have to tell you I will break out the ropes.”

  With her arms above her head, her body was a beautiful curve from her pelvis to the tips of her fingers.

  He traced her slit down to her opening and slipped two digits inside. Then he tongued her clit relentlessly until her sex spasmed against his mouth and her juices coated his face.

  While she came down from that fast orgasm, he kissed the inside of her thighs. Her bikini line. The curve of her knee.

  Rory propped herself up on her elbow. “Crawl up here and fuck me.”

  Dalton scooted back, setting his left foot on the floor. Balanced on his right knee, he leaned forward and braced his left hand by Rory’s head. Watching her eyes, he rolled his hips, gliding his cock along her pussy. Her wet, hot, wide-open pussy.

  “You’re good at that.”

  “What? This?” His shaft slid down her slick slit. He paused above the base of her pubic bone to drag the rim of his cockhead over her clit. Again and again and again.

  Rory moaned. “Yes, that. Don’t tease. Fuck me.”

  “Let’s see how flexible you are, yogi.” Dalton’s fingers formed a circle around her left ankle and he pushed her leg up and up until her knee was parallel with her shoulder. “Very flexible.” He angled his hips and pushed his cock into her to the hilt.

  “Omigod. That feels…” She didn’t finish her sentence when he started to move.

  Dalton fucked her without pause. The position of her leg opened her completely, creating more skin contact when he bottomed out inside her. Every time. The slap of his body into hers, the harsh breathing, the creak of the couch surrounded him, adding to his urgency.

  “Push into me right…there. Yes.”

  He kept his hand on Rory’s leg as he pounded into her. She was so wet he had to pause before he thrust back in. “Arch your lower back. Yes. God that’s so good.”

  Rory thought so too because she started to come. She threw her head back, her hair sliding off the couch; her hands balled into tight fists, her mouth went slack.

  Beneath his palm, her thigh went stiff. He could feel her clenching her ass cheeks in time to the blood throbbing in her clit. The rhythmic pulls of her pussy muscles were like a silken vice around his cock, holding him in place.

  He held on barely by the skin of his teeth as he rode out the storm with her.

  When her limbs relaxed, he pumped into her so forcefully her body slid up the couch. His balls swung into her ass and he was done for.

  He emptied himself into her, his mind blank.

  But his heart? His heart was full.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The next night Rory showed up at the tournament ten minutes before it started.

  After spending the day lounging around, goofing off, having sex on every piece of furniture in the hotel room, she thought she’d seen all of Dalton’s faces.

  Apparently not.

  Dalton’s poker face scared her a little.

  She didn’t always have a clear line of sight to him. People walked in front of her blocking her view. But she’d seen enough to notice that he defined impassive. No reaction if he won a big pile of chips. No reaction if he lost. The man was impossible to read, which was how he won the table and advanced to the next round.

  During the break Rory hung back with the crowd of spectators and eliminated players, waiting to see if Dalton sought her out. He didn’t.

  He was a completely different person in this round than the previous round. He was friendly. Laughing. Trash talking. Very distracting. Acting as if winning was a surprise. He suckered them all in and handily walked away with that round too.

  Rory paced, nerves getting the better of her during the next two rounds. If she was climbing out of her skin, how did Dalton remain so calm?

  Because he’s a master at masking his emotions.

  No, that wasn’t it. Was it?

  One of the changes she’d noticed in him was Dalton’s long stretches of silence. Any other man she’d call it brooding, but with him…she had no idea what was going through his head in those moments. Whenever she asked him, he smiled and deflected, just like he used to. Which made her think he hadn’t changed as much as he’d insisted.

  The announcement for the upcoming burlesque dinner show echoed through the casino and Rory refocused.

  Dalton sat at the final table in the winner-take-all cash game with a payout of forty grand. If he won, he’d make more money in one night than she made in a year.

  She’d wondered which Dalton would play in the final game. Impassive Dalton? Jovial Dalton? Nope. Neither. The Dalton seated fourth in on the left side of the dealer seemed antsy. Other players noticed and began to watch him for a specific nervous tic that could be construed as a tell.

  Maybe they should’ve been paying more attention to their cards because it wasn’t long before the table was down to three players.

  Seeing how easily he slipped between three different personality types brought back her concerns. Did he treat her like a player to be managed in a card game? Could he gauge her mood and adjust his personality and responses accordingly? And if he was doing that, how much had he really changed?

  Man, she had a crapload of doubt. And when they weren’t rolling around in the sheets together, it made her wonder if they could overcome their tangled past.

  Doesn’t matter, remember? Hot sex, good times, when it’s done it’s done and there won’t be any crying about what might’ve been.

  Shouts and clapping brought her out of her reverie. A bunch of people were standing around the table but she couldn’t see anything.

  Who’d won?

  Then everyone stepped away. Dalton’s beaming grin was a sight to behold. No mistaking that for anything but a victorious smile.

  Their eyes met. Rory recognized that look. Triumph and lust. A conquering hero hell bent on
taking his prize.

  So winning made him horny? Interesting.

  If she was a betting woman, she’d drop a C-note that Dalton would drag her back to their room as soon as possible. He’d have her bent over the arm of the couch or pinned to the mattress within minutes of walking through the door.

  But Rory didn’t want that. Tonight she wanted to tease the beast. Sexually torment him to the point that he’d fuck her with that dangerously raw edge he tended to keep hidden.

  Before she delved any deeper into that fantasy, the big, broad cowboy was in her face, lifting her, spinning her in a circle. “I won, I won, I won.”

  She laughed. “I see that. Remind me never to play strip poker with you. What happens now?”

  “Gotta go to the cage, get my cash and give the tax man his due. Sign some papers.” He stepped back and his hungry gaze took in her outfit. Cleavage-baring black bustier with a sheer pink blouse over the top. The stretchy black miniskirt clung to her ass and was about three inches shorter then she preferred. She hadn’t worn hosiery, even though it was fucking freezing. She’d slipped on heeled black boots that reached her knees.

  Dalton made that growling noise. “How long you been walkin’ around wearing that outfit?”

  “Some. Why?”

  “Because you are smokin’ hot. Jesus, woman. You’re making me lose my train of thought.”

  “Maybe this will get it back on track.” She placed an openmouthed kiss on his neck above his shirt collar. “Get your winnings so you can buy me dinner. I’m starved.”

  “I’ll feed you. Then I’ll fuck you.”

  Obviously Dalton didn’t care that anyone within earshot could hear him.

  Rory brushed the front of her body against his. “You’re hard.”

  “Fuckin’ right I’m hard. Winning always gets me hard. Add in the fact you’re here with me? Lookin’ like sex on legs? This hard-on ain’t goin’ away until I fuck you at least twice.”