The Cowboy

by Vonna Harper, P. J. Mellor, Nelissa Donovan

  Hooking her heels behind his back, she neatly flipped him over and sat astride him. Unhooking the front clasp of her bra, she dropped her pile of condoms onto his chest. “Dispense your own condoms, cowboy.” She did an experimental wiggle that elicited a groan from both of them.

  She dropped the bra to the blanket and leaned forward for him to take her nipple into his hot mouth.

  His suckling caused wetness to gush around their joined bodies. Of their own accord, her hips began moving, picking up the cadence of Tyler’s, adding little circles when the thought struck her.

  Tyler licked his lips and watched moonlight glisten on the wet nipples of the woman who rode him with such enthusiasm. He’d never considered himself a breast man, but the delicious, wicked taste of her had him wanting to howl at the moon.

  He reached to nip lightly at the tips, his ab muscles vibrating with the prolonged effort, and was rewarded with the hitch in her breath and faster thrusts of her hips.

  The woman was a goddess. Bathed in moonlight, head thrown back in hedonistic enjoyment, she took his breath away.

  Mentally going through every statistic he could think of to prolong the agony of his ecstasy, he was almost out of control when he felt her inner contractions.

  Her back arched, nipples jutting toward the inky sky, throat corded. Her breath hitched, her knees clenching his hips.

  He followed her lead, coming with a force flat-out alien to him until that moment.

  Weak. He was too weak to move, much less speak. But as soon as he rallied, he would tell her how special it was—how special she was. Surely that would cause her to at least tell him her name. What transpired between them could not have been one-sided.

  Cool. Cool air bathed him. Why was she getting up? He smiled to himself. Bet she’s getting another condom, the little hottie.

  Rustling on the other side of the blanket drew his attention, but his eyelids were still too heavy.

  His hat plopped over his cock.

  Startled, he opened his eyes to find her dressed, smiling down at him, her face in shadow.

  “Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” She bent to pick up her belongings. “I needed that. Bring the blanket tomorrow night for a repeat performance.” With that, she turned to walk away and then glanced back. “Good job. You actually stayed in the saddle for more than eight seconds!”

  6

  T yler lay there with his hat protecting what little modesty he had left while he struggled to gather enough strength to respond and go after her. Or open both eyes or move his arms.

  Good thing he’d retired. He was getting old; the thought goaded him. Then he thought of her unbridled response and breathless enthusiasm and grinned. He may not be as good as he once was, but he was as good once as he ever was.

  His smile faltered.

  She still hadn’t told him her name. Damn! It had happened again! Anonymous sex. And here he’d thought he’d succeeded in turning over a new leaf. He’d thought she was different.

  Hard on that thought, another more disturbing one occurred.

  Was this what his love ‘em and leave ‘em attitude felt like to his many faceless women? Worse, would he be just another hitch on her bedpost, a faceless victim?

  Maybe she didn’t want him to know her name because she never planned to have anything more than meaningless sex with him.

  With slow movements, he managed to drag his carcass off the blanket and get dressed. He picked up the remaining condoms and stuffed them in the pocket of his shorts then sat to pull on his boots.

  Damn. Being a sex object was hell. He felt cheap. And used. He didn’t like it.

  He reached for Jim’s reins, avoiding eye contact.

  Jim snuffled and sidestepped when Tyler placed his foot in the stirrup, dragging Tyler by one foot in a circle.

  “Cut it out!” He swung into the saddle. The horse shook its head. “Just shut up,” he told Jim, “and take me home.”

  Meg stood beneath the pulsing shower and attempted to wash away the humiliation. She’d always despised the slam, bam, thank you, ma’am type of sex, yet she’d been guilty of it tonight.

  Wrenching off the water, she grabbed her towel and stepped from the tiny shower stall. The terrycloth of her towel irritated her abraded flesh, still tender from Tyler’s five-o’clock shadow. The very thought of him brought back instant recall, causing her to squirm with need.

  What possessed her to get up and leave when what she really wanted to do was ride him and have her wicked way with him until the sun came up? And stay in his arms while she slept?

  Her lotion did little to cool her heated skin. Even her lightest nightgown weighed heavily on her.

  Restless, she wandered around the tiny cottage she’d called home for the last two years.

  Originally a beach house for summer and holiday use, the owners had moved away a decade before, deeding it back to the original owners, who chose to lease it instead of sell it outright. Meg always dreamed of persuading them to sell it to her. Now that wouldn’t happen.

  Mrs. Edwards owned the entire cove. Now that she’d gone into partnership with Attila, any hope Meg had of persuading her otherwise was squashed flatter than the seagull under the tractor she’d seen yesterday.

  She trailed a finger along the intricately carved molding of the chair rail in the miniscule kitchen. Opened a Cup-o-Soup and drank it cold. It was time to get used to not having conveniences like microwaves and electricity.

  If Roger found out the identity of the grim reaper, she would need to find a good, sturdy cardboard box and a dry underpass.

  At her desk the next morning, Meg looked up to see Tyler strolling through the door. Just the sight of him caused moisture to surge in places that had no business surging. Not here, anyway. And certainly not now.

  Slumping behind her monitor, she fought the desire to peek at his gorgeous backside while he spoke to tacky Terra.

  A moment later he stepped through Attila’s door and shut it with a final click.

  “He’s gay, you know,” Terra said when Meg sat back up.

  Memories of their own brand of “sex on the beach” had Meg biting back a smile. “Really? What makes you think so?”

  Terra smirked and leaned back in her chair, thrusting forward her augmented chest provocatively. “No straight man fails to notice these babies.”

  Well, you paid good money for them, isn’t that what you wanted? “Uh, maybe he just isn’t interested.”

  The other woman snorted.

  “Maybe he has a girlfriend.” Her thoughts that morning were definitely focused on a committed relationship.

  “That wouldn’t stop him,” Terra said with a confidence that really began to grate on Meg.

  It certainly hadn’t stopped Roger, that was for sure. Would Tyler be any different? Miserable at the thought, she grabbed her bag and said, “I’m going to take an early lunch,” and left.

  Tyler walked out of Roger’s office, determined to introduce himself to the dark-haired receptionist and ask her to lunch. So what if she reminded him of his mystery lover? Maybe he’d just developed a thing for brunettes. Besides, he needed to get on with his plan for turning over a new leaf.

  Last night had been a mistake. Hell, his whole relationship—if that’s what you could call it—with the mystery woman had been a mistake, as far as he could tell.

  He needed some damage control.

  Her desk was empty.

  “Where is she?” he asked the blonde.

  “Gone to lunch.” She leaned over so far her overinflated boobs threatened to escape the dangerously low neck of her sweater.

  A mental image of them floating toward the ceiling like helium balloons had him biting back a smile.

  The blonde batted her equally fake eyelashes, obviously misunderstanding his facial expression. “Anything I can do for you, sugar?”

  Been there, done that. “No, thanks.” He donned his Stetson and stepped into the sunshine.

  The brunette had to be close b
y. He would just find her and strike up a conversation.

  Meg saw Tyler squinting through the plate glass of the sandwich shop and choked on the last bite of her turkey sandwich. Jumping up, she ran for the ladies’ room. When she ventured back out a few minutes later, he was gone.

  Refilled Coke in her hand, she paid her bill and peered up and down Main Street before venturing back to the office.

  Facing Tyler by light of day and introducing herself was inevitable.

  Just not today.

  Tyler shifted in his saddle, the creaking leather failing to relax muscles strung tight with apprehension.

  Weak. When it came to his beach babe, it was a condition to fit every situation.

  Thoughts of her made him weak, throwing right out the window any resolve he’d made to avoid another anonymous sexual encounter. Kissing her made him weak. Hell, sex with her not only made him weak, it damn near put him in a coma.

  And he craved that weakness again. And again. And again.

  He may not believe in love at first sight, but he knew damn straight about lust at first sight. And he had the near-constant hard-on to prove it.

  The waves washed to the shore, bathed in the glow of the moonlight.

  He shifted in the saddle, disgusted for even thinking the sound of waves made him horny. It was his overactive imagination that did it. He could just picture the two of them frolicking, naked, in the surf. Taste the salt of the waves on her tits. He would lift her, her legs going around his waist, her hot, wet center teasing his cock…

  “Shit! Where the hell is she?” He flexed his thigh and leaned to turn Jim for one more ride down the beach.

  Jim had other ideas.

  With a snort the horse trotted backward a few steps, shaking his head.

  Tyler clicked his tongue.

  Jim looked back over his shoulder as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”

  “I know, boy, I’m tired, too. Just once more down the beach. Then we’ll call it a night.”

  That’s when he looked up and saw her.

  Partially hidden in the shadow of a swaying palm tree, she stood, bare feet braced apart on the sand, the Gulf breeze ruffling the thin, pale fabric of her sundress.

  He and Jim sauntered closer.

  “I thought you weren’t coming.”

  Her lips tilted in a faint smile. At least, he thought it was a smile; could have been a shadow.

  “Tyler,” she said in a low, suggestive voice that started his blood to boiling, “you know where you’re concerned, I always come.”

  His cock jumped to attention at the double entendre.

  He slid from the horse and into her waiting arms. Home. It felt like home to be held close to her again.

  A flex of his hips bumped his erection against her. Arms firmly around her, he brushed kisses across her cheeks and the tip of her nose before he settled into a properly efficient welcome kiss.

  Dragging his lips down the side of her neck, he said, “Let’s go for a ride on the beach.”

  She sighed. “I was thinking about a different kind of ride,” she said, dragging her hand down his side to cup the bulging fly of his jeans.

  “We can do that, too.” He went for the land speed record in shucking his jeans. It took some work to get them off over his boots, but finally he stood before her in nothing but his hat and boots.

  Hands on hips, she gave him a thorough once-over that practically had him falling to his knees begging for more.

  “You do realize how ridiculous you look, don’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah?” He took a step closer, grabbing the hem of her dress before she could get away. In one movement it was up and over her head. He tossed it to land like a giant white parachute skidding across the sand.

  Now it was his turn to stare. His heart squeezed. If this wasn’t love, it was the damnedest case of lust he’d ever encountered. But he didn’t want to scare her, so he simply said, “Nice panties. Lose them.”

  “B—but then I’ll be naked.” Her hands fluttered as though she were thinking about shielding her breasts from his hungry eyes. “And the saddle…”

  Granted, not everyone was as comfortable in the saddle as he was, so he dragged the blanket from their other encounter from the saddlebag and folded it to cover his big Western saddle. “How’s that?” Before she could answer, he had relieved her of her panties and grasped her beneath the arms, hefting her onto the saddle. Excited to be sharing a moonlit ride on the beach, he swung up behind her.

  It was important to share interests. She needed to learn to ride so they could enjoy their retirement.

  He clicked his tongue and Jim set off at a sedate walk. Tyler took advantage of their leisurely pace to run his hands appreciatively over the woman nestled against his rock-hard erection.

  But when he cupped her breasts, flicking the pebbled nipples with the tips of his thumbs, she stiffened and swatted his hands away.

  “Don’t you think you should keep your hands on the wheel…or whatever it is you hang on to on a horse?”

  Chuckling, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck. “I’m a professional.” His words were muffled against the sweet, soft skin. “So is Jim. I don’t have to hold on to anything I’m not inclined to hold.”

  “Oh.”

  “Relax.” His left hand squeezed and massaged her breast while he snaked his other arm around to slide his fingers along her seam and fondle the hidden nub. After a few more steps, her stiffness subsided.

  His didn’t.

  “Uh, Tyler?”

  “Hmmm?” Damn, he loved the little shimmy she did in response to him dragging his tongue along the side of her neck.

  “Maybe we should stop and, um, put the blanket to, ah, better use?”

  He released her breast to cup her cheek, turning her head for his kiss. “Trust me,” he whispered against her lips.

  Once again cupping her breast, he leaned her forward, his eager cock straining for the warm wetness of her pussy.

  He knew he should be wearing a rubber. It didn’t matter.

  He knew they were taking a chance. It didn’t matter.

  He knew there was a very real possibility of making a baby with a woman who wouldn’t even tell him her name. It didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was pushing into the silky wetness he craved.

  One flex of his hips had him buried to the hilt. Already her greedy opening was sucking his cock deeper, her inner contractions making it difficult not to allow his dick to do a little, happy dance.

  He must’ve squeezed his thighs with his next thrust, because Jim began to trot.

  His lover gave a surprised shriek, grasping the pommel in a white-knuckled death grip.

  Just as he was about to rein Jim in, they got into the rhythm of the trot with each thrust. It felt interesting. The trot picked up speed. It felt stimulating. Jim trotted faster. Excitement built. The woman wiggled her ass against him, initiating deeper penetration. Tyler couldn’t help it. He flexed his thighs with his final thrust as they shouted their climax.

  Jim broke into a canter, disconnecting their bodies, and then lurched into a full gallop.

  7

  S he screamed and shot up out of the saddle like she was thinking about jumping off. At this speed, she would do some real damage.

  He clamped his arm around her midsection and hugged her back against him while he groped for the reins. “Lean down and hold on!”

  “No, sir!” Her voice carried back to him on the wind rushing past them. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place!”

  He squeezed Jim’s sides with his knees and leaned, guiding the runaway horse into the shallow water.

  The cooler water of the Gulf must’ve brought Jim to his senses, because he came to an abrupt halt, tossing them headfirst into the deeper water.

  They broke the surface at the same time, gasping for air.

  She shoved her sopping hair from her face, coughing.

  “Are you all right?” Tyler tried not to
kick her with his boots while he treaded water.

  She nodded. “Now what?” she finally said.

  His boot touched sand and he stood, drawing her to him, pulling her close between his spread legs. “The water doesn’t seem as cold as it did at first. Why don’t we just relax for a minute?”

  Beneath the water, his cock was making a rapid recovery.

  “Ever made love in the ocean?” He trailed nibbling kisses along her neck.

  “N—no.” The waves bumped her gently against his aroused torso. She looked up, her eyes wide in the moonlight. “Again?”

  He shrugged and nodded.

  She shrieked and jumped up, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Something’s in the water!”

  He laughed, knowing deep inside he would protect her with his life if she was right. “Probably lots of ‘somethings,’ darlin’.”

  He felt her relax, her body gliding with his in the rhythm of the surf. Soon she returned his kisses with building enthusiasm, squirming against his sex, practically climbing on top of him.

  It was only natural that he grab her waist to lift her and then bring her down on his cock. Just as it was only natural for her to cling tighter and sigh as he slid in and out of her with the lazy cadence of the waves.

  Their orgasm took them both by surprise. One minute they were smoothly copulating, letting the water do its magic. The next, a tidal wave of release washed over them, threatening to drown them in sensation and possibly even saltwater.

  Weak, they staggered toward the shore, where Jim now waited.

  She looked around. “I should go home. It’s late.”

  “Tomorrow’s Saturday. You don’t have to work or anything, do you?” Suddenly her leaving was the last thing in the world he wanted. “Let’s dry off and look for the blanket.” Despite his best intentions, he ran his hands from her shoulders to knees and back up, sluicing water from her smooth skin.

  “It’ll turn up, sooner or later.”

  “What about your dress and panties?” While the idea of her walking down the beach in her birthday suit held infinite appeal for him, he knew he would want to gouge out the eyes of anyone who witnessed her trek.