Oh, I breathed him in. “You smell delicious.”
“You smell like horses.” He squirmed, lifting a shoulder to keep my tickling tongue from finding all his secret hot spots. “Where’d you ride out to earlier, anyway?”
I dug my hands into the waistband of his boxers.
“Rode out to check for predators, or so Boss said. He warned me off you, but I got the feeling”—I racked my brain for the right words—“he wanted to show me his idea of paradise. Camping and whiskey and cigars. Real guys’ stuff.”
“Then you came straight to me.” His smile was wide and smug. “Your talk with the boss made you throw pebbles at my window like a dude from one of Elena’s old movies.”
“Yeah.” I’d done exactly that. Might as well admit it. “You’re too important to let someone—”
“Because I’m from up at the ranch house?” he asked suspiciously.
“Nah, Rock. It’s because this thing”—I gestured between us—“is so damn good.”
I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him toward me. He slid off the bench seat but rolled us until he was on his back. Draped over him like a blanket, I bent my knees, straddled his hips, and put my hands flat on either side of his head. Maisy fled to the other side of the bench.
He bucked up, and I gasped with pleasure.
“Can I touch you?”
“Yes.” His voice made me shiver.
Beneath me, Rock’s flushed face, his over-bright eyes, his kiss-swollen mouth waited. I kissed him for me, and because I had nothing to give him but kisses.
Because I’d fucked and sucked and taken it up the ass enough for both of us.
I kissed him because it’s as intimate as fucking, as revealing as open-heart surgery.
I kissed him and I couldn’t stop kissing him.
“Sky,” he begged.
I ground down, hips arching into his. He gripped my ass and pulled me closer. Together we set that mindless, jerking hump-hump struggle for pressure and angle on hyperdrive . . .
“Oh, god.” I still needed my hands to hold me up, so he dug between our bodies and freed our cocks, wrapping his hands around both at once. Our dicks slid together in his tight, damp fist.
After a few minutes of grinding like animals—blinding pleasure and not a little pain—he lost patience and rolled me beneath him.
Gotta dig a guy who can palm your ass like a basketball.
I locked my ankles behind his back, cradling his hips, clasping my hands behind his neck. Then I arched against him and he thrust down. Each time the movement was smaller, more powerful, more precise.
The pressure, the friction, the heat was shocking.
“Fuck.” Rock sank his teeth into the meat of my shoulder and lost control. His hips flexed and he chanted in time with his thrusts: yes, yes, yes, yes.
My body drew as tight as a bow string, hovering on the edge of release, and then I tumbled helplessly into motherfucking paradise.
Rock let out a grunt of satisfaction.
Cum spattered, hot and thick between our bellies, the scent rich and bitter in the stale air.
After a while, I had to move off the hard floor. “Lemme up.”
“Mmnh.” Rock rolled off of me and sat up, stripping his T-shirt off, and using it to wipe my skin. I raised my hand, and he clasped it to pull me up.
His eyes filled with warmth. “You look awful good sitting there with my jiz drying on your skin.”
“I should go back. Unless you have a sleeping bag out here.”
He painted circles on my stomach with the tip of his index finger. “Sorry. Next time.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I got to my feet and helped him up. Even when we had our clothes on, we looked pretty disreputable. “We should probably go.”
“Probably.” He hesitated, and then pulled me close, wrapping his big body around mine. I locked my hands behind his hips and we shuffled there, not standing, not dancing, but swaying . . .
Rock hummed music I didn’t recognize. I’m not sure he was even aware he was doing it.
I could have stayed there forever, been happy forever, exactly like that.
Then BAM! Sterling Chandler burst through the door, followed by honest-to-god uniformed sheriff’s deputies.
They looked Rock over, and then focused on me.
“Skyler Brody?” The dude smiled cruelly. Oh, he couldn’t wait to remind me who was in charge.
Sadistic fuckbucket.
“That’s me.” I had to catch Rock, whose first instinct—apparently—was to block anything coming my way. Must’ve played defense back in school. “It’s okay, Rock.”
“Assume the position.” The deputy was pulling on gloves, getting ready to pat me down. “Am I going to find anything sharp, dangerous, or toxic?”
“Wait—” Rock argued, while Maisy anxiously danced next to his feet, whining.
I put my hands behind my head, spread my legs, and let them shove me over the fender of Mrs. Chandler’s MG. Fucker didn’t stop with a pat down. I got some action from his gloved finger too, making sure I hadn’t secreted anything between my ass cheeks or under my tongue.
Rock didn’t take them touching me like that lightly either, and Maisy went bug-nuts crazy when they tackled him to the ground.
For ten minutes, I thought I’d go deaf from all the barking, shouting, and threatening going on.
None of that would have made even a blip on the big picture that was the Rocking C, except right then I caught sight of Maisy, who skittered between Rock and the boss, yipping worriedly. She circled and circled and then barked some more. Was Maisy alerting?
“Hey, Rock. You okay?”
I watched his face closely as he pet her.
He seemed okay. She calmed down a bit—enough so that when they dragged me out of the shed with my hands zip-tied behind my back I wasn’t concerned Rock was having a seizure. We all trooped over to the bunkhouse, where the sheriff’s deputies took their time tossing my room. Thorough, thorough boys, there, especially since everything I owned fit in a single drawer.
Rock sat beside me on the porch, his eyes soft and worried. “Don’t they have to have a warrant or something?”
I shrugged. “I’m still technically in custody. I have no rights.”
Privately, I thought this was a bit much. Chandler’s doing, no doubt. His type was born doling out specialty justice. Plus, he knew I’d never make a formal complaint. No con would.
And, you can’t say he didn’t warn you.
“Sterling?”
Rock’s anxious tone got my attention. I followed his gaze toward the boss, who was talking with his hands, trying to make himself understood.
Chandler’s color was all wrong, pale and blotchy. White around his lips. Beads of sweat dotted his skin. He looked awful—shouting so loud, the tendons in his neck stood out. But nothing he said made sense.
The expression of naked terror on Rock’s face scared me far worse.
He’d leaped to his feet. “Uncle Sterling!”
Chandler’s eyes lost focus and he plunged to the ground. Over the sickening thud of his fall, Rock shouted. “Somebody, help Sterling.”
One of the deputies got on his radio while the others gathered around Chandler’s motionless form.
“This is Clay over at the Rocking C. We’ve got a medical emergency.”
None of us knew what the hell to do then.
And it’s true. You never see the end of the world coming.
Chapter 26
Rock
The following day, Andi, Ryder, and Doc Winters came to visit Chandler at Mischer Neuroscience Institute at Memorial Hermann. We air-kissed, because Andi decided she’s gonna be a big Nashville star someday, and that’s what they do. I left my backpack on my chair and exchanged hugs with Ryder and Doc Winte
rs.
“Look who’s here, Maisy.” I waited while everyone greeted her.
“Sweet girl.” Andi wore all black from head to toe. Some kind of skirt and cat tights that emphasized an awesome pair of legs. “How’re you holding up, Rocky?”
Andi’s a little slip of a girl but she can hug like a Kodiak bear. I didn’t know if she knew my part in what happened to her dad yet, but guilt made it hard for me to meet her eyes.
Andi always smells like coconuts. The soft, familiar scent enveloped us both.
She is beautiful, talented, fearless.
She was calm, while I was a mess.
I sat back down, and the three of them pulled up chairs. All around us, clusters of people talked quietly or read outdated magazines or stared unhappily at their phones.
“Real sorry about your dad,” I searched her face for some kind of anger, but she didn’t seem to blame me. I apologized again anyway. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“Oh, honey.” She gripped my shoulders. “Elena told me everything. If anyone is to blame for this, it’s us. He’s been pissed off at Ryder and me far longer.”
She didn’t know, though. I’d pushed her dad. I’d defied him. He’d had to come looking for me.when he told me specifically not to go out. “But if I’d minded—”
“He was always going to stroke out over something. You know how he is. This is probably only a warning and it’s good he’s had it.”
Her words made me wonder if her dad’s situation was really sinking in.
“He scared me really bad,” I said doubtfully. “You should prepare yourself for—”
“How are you holding up?” I thought it odd she was focusing on me when her father was in the ER, but I didn’t argue about it.
“Everything’s just really fucked-up.” I told her about Sky, and then a sudden, vivid mental picture of her dad bursting in on us came out of nowhere. “I knew he’d be angry. But–”
“Have they talked about his prognosis?” Declan was justifiably interested in Sterling’s medical care.
“Other than wait and see? No.”
“I’ll go see if there’s anything I can learn,” Everyone watched Declan as he walked away. He wore jeans and a navy V-neck sweater over a white T-shirt. By all rights, it should have made him look like somebody’s dad, but no.
Hottest. Human. Ever. If you liked his type.
My type, apparently, is more Fight Club than country club.
For the thousandth time, I wished Skyler had a cell phone. Of course, if Chandler made good on his threat and they put Sky back in prison...
“Where’s Elena?” Ryder asked.
“She and Foz went to see about getting rooms at a local hotel. They should be back in half an hour or so. You’re staying, right?”
Andi picked up both my hands in hers. “I can’t stay.”
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “God knows your dad has been hard on you lately but—”
“It’s not—” She squeezed her eyes shut, opening them again only after she got herself under better control. “I have to be in Austin by late afternoon. The band’s got a gig at Duncan’s Place.”
She was leaving? “Tonight? Can’t you cancel?”
“It’s not a job at McDonald’s. The show’s been scheduled for a month. The rests of the band is counting on me.”
“But your Dad’s in the ER—”“
“I know where my dad is. I can’t do anything here. My dad and I would only argue about me singing at Dunc’s—”
“He’s right about Duncan’s.” I’d last seen her sing at her dad’s Fourth of July party. I thought she and Sterling were going to come to blows over that. Sterling had a pretty limited idea of what ladies should do, and lately he’d been even more vocal about it. “That place gets awful wild.”
“You should come. I’ll make sure they take real good care of you and Maisy.”
“Of course I can’t come.” Oh God. The noise, the flashing lights, and the alcohol? Last thing I needed. “I’d rather be here for Uncle Sterling.”
She shuddered. “I despise hospitals. People die in these places all the damn time.”
The woman sitting across from us shot Andi a filthy look.
In typical Andi fashion, she leaned over and addressed her directly. “Sorry.”
She turned to me, crossed her feet at the ankles, and grinned.
Black lace-up work boots made of some kind of high-end leather embroidered with red roses, they clomped when she moved her feet. No doubt they had steel toes. Our girl was part ranch hand and part diva and she’d come into some cash. Together, we watched the sour-faced woman walk away. I felt bad because maybe she was worried about someone she loved, and there Andi went, being all Andi.
“Is that your idea of empathy?” I asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “Foreign concept. Why put yourself in other people’s shoes if you like the ones you’ve got on better?”
I thought—hoped—she was joking. “I love you despite that nasty attitude.”
“Nobody ever paid me to be nice.” Then she linked our arms, put her head down on my shoulder, and whispered, “This isn’t real, right? Dad’s too mean to die.”
“Nobody knows yet.”
“Fuck that. He’ll be fine.” Her determined chin came up. “He’s Sterling goddamn Chandler, isn’t he? He’s going to be just fine.”
“Sure he is,” I said as she settled down next to me to wait. The hospital paging system came to life every few minutes, calling out doctors’ names and codes. Wheels squeaked toward us as a man rolled a janitorial cart into the waiting room. He mopped the floor where someone had spilled coffee, leaving a few of those yellow Piso Mojado/Wet Floor signs in his wake. The floor in the ER always needs mopping.
I’ve spent so much time waiting in these places.
When the code blue sounded and we saw a crash cart go by, Andi stiffened. I put my arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “There’s a ton of people in there, honey. Don’t borrow trouble.”
“He’s right.” Declan had returned from the nurse’s station. “They still need to do some tests but in the meantime, your father’s in stable condition.”
Andi searched his face. “What does that mean?”
“It means they’re watching and waiting and we’ll find out more as they know. More important, though”—he pointed at me—“you need to keep to your schedule. Did you even get any sleep last night?”
I nodded. “Some. In the car.”
Doc shook his head. “Not good enough. Andi and Ryder will take you to Foz and Elena.”
“We’ve got a long drive ahead of us,” Ryder stood and stretched. Shoulder to shoulder with the Doc, he looked worn out but well.
I rose from my chair. “Aren’t you going back with them?”
Declan shook his head. “I’ll go back later when we know more about Sterling.”
“Sterling won’t thank you for your trouble.” Ryder’s concern for the Doc’s feelings warmed me. “You can take Andi back and I’ll stay.”
“Jonas needs his dad. You go. I can help Elena and Foz when they come back.” Declan kissed the side of Ry’s jaw just under his ear. If I hadn’t been watching so closely I wouldn’t have seen Ry’s little shiver of pleasure.
On some level I hated them for being out and proud and fucking fearless in Texas, of all places. I hated them for being happy, and just what kind of an asshole did that make me?
“You okay, Rock?” Andi saw me watching them, I guess.
Instead of answering, I dug into my backpack for Maisy’s collapsible bowl and a bottle of water. “Here you go, girl.”
Hospitals are very dry. Maisy fell on her water like she’d never seen water before. Her tongue lashed droplets everywhere. Fortunately, I also carry highly absorbent microfiber towels.
I poured more.
“Once she’s finished, let us take you to the hotel. Doc’s right,” Andi picked up her purse and stood. “You should be resting.”
“You should stay, Andi,” I tried again.”
“Can’t. I spent three hours on the road and I’m not even sure why I came. It’s not like he’ll even know I was here.”
I said, “Stay and tell him.”
“I can’t, Rocky. Not today. He’ll understand. God knows, he always put business first.”
Ryder took Andi’s hand and waited while I put Maisy’s bowl back. I gave her a couple of jerky pieces.
After kisses goodbye all around, Declan met every single curious pair of eyes in the waiting room with a challenge.
The doc has a wicked sense of humor.
“For a little bitty guy, you have balls like one of Sterling’s Brangus bulls.”
“Everyone’s bitty to you, hoss.” The doc grinned. “Drive safe, Ry. Rock, I don’t want you back here until you’ve had at least six hours of sleep and a decent meal.”
I picked up my pack and stood. “Will you promise to text me if anything changes?”
He nodded. “I promise.”
“Okay.” Thinking how tired I was made me feel ten times worse. I followed Andi and Ryder’s mostly silent progress to the parking garage in a daze.
I couldn’t wait to shuck off my clothes and shower. I still had traces of Sky on my shirt—even though I was wearing a work shirt over it.
The thought nearly made me sick with delight.
Once Maisy and I got into the backseat of Ryder’s truck, I closed my eyes and let the rocking stop-and-go motion lull me into a delicious state of lethargy. My dick swelled as my thoughts drifted in between memory and dreams. Sky smiling nervously the day we met. His willingness to help whenever he was needed. The sensual way his eyes traveled over my body when we were alone. I wanted him there with me, like Andi had Ryder and Ryder had Declan.
Just then I wanted Sky. Only Sky.
On the road, the sun stabbed its way into the car, trying for my eyes with every nauseating turn of the wheel. Being in the backseat didn’t help.
My Cowboy Freedom Page 21