by Sasha Gold
“So wet, baby. I need you now.”
He lifts me over him. I cry out with surprise at the sudden movement. Thunder rolls across the sky, drowning out the sound. He lowers me, impaling me on his cock. He fills me, and while I’m still tender from last night, I love the feeling of riding him. He digs his fingers into me and moves me along his length. Even though I’m on top of him, I’m under his control.
What felt impossibly full a moment before soon makes me wild with need. I set my hands on his chest. His muscles flex beneath my palms.
Lightning explodes, lighting the room. I catch a glimpse of Ben. In that instant, I take in his predatory look. I’m his plaything. His ragdoll. He’s going to use me and take everything. And I want to give it to him and more.
His breath is ragged. “Beauty,” he whispers. “You’re mine.”
I writhe in his grip. I need more, but for some reason he won’t give it to me. “Ben…”
“Say it.”
I’m panting like a wild animal. I don’t even know what he’s talking about. I don’t know where he begins or where I end. It’s like we’re a single entity. All I know is desire.
“Say it, Grace,” he demands.
He moves me back and forth. The feeling of him lifting me off his cock and then pressing me down makes me gasp. I writhe in his grip.
“Say it, baby girl.”
“What should I say?”
“Tell me that you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Ben. I’m all yours.”
He pulls me down and crushes his mouth to mine. He rolls over, taking me with him and, holding me on my side, lifts my leg over his hip. I’m open to him. He deepens his strokes, pinning me beneath his powerful hands.
What he’s doing to me is wicked and it’s just what I need. I can’t hold back as my orgasm builds. I’m crying and begging for more. One minute he tells me what a dirty girl I am, and the next how perfect and beautiful I am. I arch and scream. Lights burst behind my eyes. He snarls and thrusts hard, filling me with his hot seed.
We sink into each other’s arms. The sound of our breathing fills the darkness. As I regain my breath, I reach blindly for a blanket. The night air is cold.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I’m cold.”
I feel the bed dip as he straightens the bedding and pulls the blankets over both of us. He kisses me with such tenderness, my breath catches. My eyes sting. I melt a little beneath his sweet kiss. But I’m mad too. Not too furious or anything, because he just made me lose my mind. A little mad though, mostly at myself. He got his way by seducing me and making me say I was his, but he didn’t budge an inch from his stubborn position.
I grumble against his shoulder.
“What are you saying?”
“You’re not compromising.”
“I’ll give you anything you want, Grace. Just don’t ask me to give up this last ride. I’ll only disappoint you.”
“I might be pregnant.”
“I hope you are.” He strokes my back and drops a kiss on my shoulder. “One day when we have a few kids, I’ll tell them about how I was the only man to ride the biggest, baddest bull around.”
I close my eyes and try not to think about him climbing onto the back of a bull. Maybe it’s wrong to ask him to stop. I don’t know. The more time I spend with Ben, the deeper in love I fall. But I’m also confused and unsure. Of everything. I take some comfort in the feel of his arms around me and listen to the thunder and the rain.
Chapter Ten
Ben
I guess it was bound to happen. Grace and I would eventually have an argument. I figured she would get mad and we’d fight and then we’d have some sort of sweet reconciliation. Only that’s not quite how it’s gone. She’s not really fussing at me, but she’s distant. Her smile isn’t quite as bright, and her laugh isn’t quite as quick.
She’s punishing me for this last rodeo.
This morning, I asked if she wanted to go with me into San Felipe. I need a hitch put on the truck. She turned me down with some excuse about needing to get some work done around the barn. It bothered me to leave her alone on the ranch. I don’t know why. She’s managed things on her own for a long time. Maybe it’s just because I’m spending the better part of the day without her. I’m surprised how much I dislike it.
Driving back from San Felipe, I have to turn around a few times and find an alternate route. The roads are flooded. The rain hasn’t let up in over a week. By the time I get home, it’s an hour or so before dusk. I call for her inside the house, but there’s no response. When I dial her number, her phone, sitting on the counter, rings.
“Shit.”
Where the hell did she go? The rain still falls, not heavily, but enough to convince me she’s not outdoors. The barn, maybe. A movement catches my eye. The filly stands in the middle of the garden. That’s not exactly new for Bonnie. Grace should have named her Houdini. What is different is the red mud slicking up her legs and along her belly.
My blood runs cold. The mud could only come from the river running below the pasture. I race to the barn, calling Grace’s name, and when there’s no reply, I jump in the truck. I have to undo the gate, but don’t bother closing it. If the colt gets out, he’ll stick with Bonnie. I can’t really give a damn about either horse right now.
Gunning the engines, I drive to the far corner of the field. A railing is down. The filly must have jumped it and broken it. I blast through the far gate and hurtle down the dirt road that leads to the river. There’s a curve of the river and I’m certain that’s where the filly went today when she decided to explore.
My tires spin, flinging mud behind me. I slow the truck as I drive along the river bank. Between the driving rain and the failing light, I can’t make out much, but there in the river bend, I see my Gracie. The river has flooded the banks and swallowed a grove of Cypress. She clings to one of the trees. The water rushes around her, almost to her shoulders. I stop the truck, grab my lasso and run to the bank.
I don’t say a word. I don’t want to startle her. Instead, I swing my lasso over my head and throw. It lands perfectly. Thankfully she doesn’t let go of the tree. She turns her gaze to me. She’s pale and glassy-eyed. She’s panicked, but understands she needs to secure herself. When she pulls the noose over her shoulders, I tighten the rope.
“Good girl,” I shout. “Now, let go.”
She stares at me.
“Let go, Gracie. I’ll pull you out.”
But she’s frozen with fear.
Winding the rope around the grill of my truck, I tie it securely. In the next moment, I’m in the creek, wading out to her. The current is strong and swift, but the worst part is the debris. An entire, uprooted tree moves along the middle of the river. With one hand on the rope, I make my way across the torrent until I reach her.
Her teeth chatter. Her lips are blue. She’s so terrified, I’m not even sure she recognizes me.
I wrap my arms around her. “Let go, baby.”
She shakes her head.
I hold her with one arm and pry her from the tree. She starts to cry but doesn’t fight me. The look in her eyes makes my heart break. I hold her tight with one arm and pull us out with the other. When we get to the bank, I half-carry, half-drag her out of the river.
“Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head. Her chattering teeth make it impossible for her to speak. She’s still crying, though, and she cries all the way back to the house. I know she’s terrified. I assume that the trauma of being nearly washed away is what’s making her cry. But when we get to the house, she falls apart, spiraling into what seem like near-hysterics.
She’s watching Bonnie, who’s grazing contentedly in the garden.
“S-she got washed away.” Her voice cracks. “I saw her, Ben. I thought… I thought.”
“Bonnie’s all right, sweetheart. She made it back to the house.”
Gracie nods, or I think she nods. She’s shaking so violently, it’s hard to t
ell. I carry her inside, strip her down and put her in the shower. A bath would be better, but it would take too long to fill the tub. She’s covered in the red, San Felipe mud. I help her wash, help her dry and wrap her in a robe. After I tuck her in bed, I leave her to take care of the horses.
I get the yearlings in their stalls and feed all four horses. I take care of the animals, feeling dazed and incredulous that I just nearly lost Gracie in the San Felipe river. When I get back to the house, I check on her first thing. She’s sound asleep. It’s only then that I realize I’m soaking wet too.
After I get undressed, I wash up and get into bed. It’s early. Probably only eight-thirty, but I want to be here if she wakes. She sleeps soundly all night, resting in my arms. Waves of fear wash over me and then dissipate, only to return later. I understand how Gracie felt when she saw that Bonnie was unharmed. The deep soul-wrenching relief.
Finally, at dawn, I fall asleep and rest for a few hours.
I wake feeling like I’ve been thrown and trampled by a dozen bulls. I’m stiff and sore. I imagine Gracie is as well, but she’s not in the bed.
I stroll downstairs. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she works in the kitchen, stirring a pan of eggs at the stove. Her smile makes my breath catch. She’s got her color back. I feel like I can’t tear my eyes from her.
“I wanted to talk to you, sleepyhead,” she says, her tone sassy and music to my ears.
I half-expect her to press me about the rodeo. I’d agree to anything right now. Most of all I don’t want to leave her. Ever. Certainly not to get on top of some son-of-a-bitch bull that wouldn’t mind stomping me into the dirt.
“What about?”
“You haven’t given me a wedding present.”
I can’t keep back my smile. It’s been a few days since we’ve been easy with each other, and I crave that sweet space with her. If she wants a wedding present, I want to know what it is. I just wish I’d thought of it before she brought it up. “That’s true. What would you like?”
“I’d like a bull.”
I grin. “Okay. You taking up a new sport?”
“Sport?”
“Bull riding.”
She scoffs. “Bull riding isn’t a sport.”
“All right.” I’m not going to argue with her. All I want is to stand here and watch her while she sasses me. I fold my arms across my chest to keep from grabbing her. Right now, there’s nothing I want more in the world. “So, what kind of bull do you want? Let me guess, you want Jesse James, right?”
“I do, but I want to own him under certain conditions.”
I resist the urge to make a joke about ribeye or T-bones. “Go on.”
“I want him to keep his claim to never being ridden eight seconds.”
She grins at me, her eyes lit with triumph. She thinks I’m going to fight her, and I can tell she’s got a barrel of serious grief to give me if I argue with her about the bull.
“All right, Gracie.”
Her jaw drops. “Really?”
“Really.”
“You’re done?”
“I’m done.”
Her eyes shine. She blinks to hold back any tears. “And you’ll buy Jesse James for me.”
I cross the room, turn off the stove and pull her into my arms. I kiss her lips, a slow, lingering kiss. “I love you, Gracie. So damn much.”
Her smile is sweet, fragile almost. “I love you, Ben.”
“And I’ll buy that bull for you, and anything else you want. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get ridden again.”
“He’ll have a perfect streak.”
I growl softly, pretending to be cranky about the bull. “He’ll retire unbeaten.”
Epilogue
Ben
Ever since Luke turned two, he thinks he’s too big for me to carry him. He likes to head out to the pasture after dinner and see the cattle one last time before the sun sets. He especially enjoys walking around in his new cowboy boots.
“You shouldn’t keep admiring your new boots, son,” I tell him. “You need to watch where you’re going. What would your Aunt Viv say about you stepping in a cow patty in the boots she bought you?”
He frowns. Normally, he’s got an argument for me, especially since he turned two.
Gracie and I follow him, walking hand in hand.
She chuckles softly. “When he gets that little, I-know-what-I’m-doing expression, he looks just like you.”
I shake my head and pull her closer. We fall into an easy step together. This is my favorite time of the day. The work’s done. We’ve had a nice dinner, thanks to Gracie, and we have the evening to look forward to. I always look forward to things winding down and having Gracie to myself.
Not that I don’t love every minute with Luke. Sometimes he wears me out, but I still want a dozen more. When he gets to the fence he climbs to the top rail and leans over. Luke loves the horses, but he’s all about the cattle. Especially the new calves.
The bull lumbers over, his nostrils flared and a rumble in his chest. He knows that one of us will have something for him. I have a hundred head of cattle, but not one as easy going as Jesse James. Yes, the undefeated, devil-bull turned out to be the biggest teddy bear of them all.
As an investment he’s been a good bull too. In the last year he’s sired scores of calves, all of them already spoken for by ranches across Texas. Everyone wants a youngster sired by an incorrigible bull, it seems. If only they knew the Jesse James I know. He’s no monster.
The bull noses Luke’s hand. Luke pulls a range cube from his pocket and holds it out. The bull sniffs. Gently, he takes it from Luke’s hand and crunches it.
A few of the cows wander over, but they’re too shy to come to the fence. They hang back and watch.
Luke waves to them and yells, “Moo.”
“The moos don’t want a treat, Luke,” Gracie offers. “Silly moos.”
Luke chuckles.
The bull stands there for a few minutes, but when he realizes the treats are gone, he wanders back to the herd and resumes grazing. A cool, spring breeze blows. Luke would be happy to stay another hour, just waiting, but we’ve got to head inside.
“Ready to see Aunt Viv on television?” Gracie asks.
Luke’s brow furrows, but he clambers down. He doesn’t really believe that he’ll see her on the TV, or maybe he doesn’t understand. We return to the house as the sun sinks below the horizon.
When I first came to the ranch, Gracie didn’t have television. I told her it was a necessity. I needed to keep up with football since I was done bull riding.
We sit on the couch, Gracie next to me, Luke on her lap and I turn on the television. The show starts. The credits roll: Cowboy Bachelor, Texas Edition.
Vivian’s marriage to the lawyer didn’t last a New York minute. Since then, she’s been engaged twice and broken up with the guys before we even got a chance to meet them. This show is her latest venture into dating and possible matrimony, done with her own, unique flare.
The show is a bit of a joke, if you ask me. Not only are a bunch of women vying for some fake cowboy, but the drama is through the roof. Last week, it was all about the bachelor, some oilman from Houston. I don’t think the guy has ever stepped foot on a ranch, until now. The whole season is going to be filmed in different locations across West Texas. Last week they had him riding a horse and he looked like he might faint.
This week, they’re introducing the girls. Twelve of them. Luke yawns. Grace sets him off her lap, goes to the kitchen and returns a moment later with a snack for him. He’s more interested in the food than the show, and I can’t blame him.
But then Vivian comes on and he yelps with surprise. He points at the television and stares in disbelief. His expression is pretty sweet. He’s crazy about his aunt and can’t believe she’s on television.
Gracie snickers at his response. Both of us are mostly watching Luke while Vivian’s talking on the television. The segment was filmed here on the ranch about ten days ago.
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“Well, I just love the country,” Vivian drawls. “I’m out here on my family’s ranch every chance I get.”
Gracie gives me a look over Ben’s head. I smile. Vivian’s a pain in the neck, but I have to admit she’s very sweet to Luke. After getting off to a bad start with Vivian, I was prepared to simply tolerate her, or ignore her, but she redeemed herself after Luke was born. While she doesn’t come “every chance she gets,” she does come and visit. Mostly to see Luke, I suspect.
I hired a contractor to rebuild the small cabin at the end of the driveway. We fixed it up with Vivian in mind. Vivian requested specific bed sheets, and insists on a certain brand of bottled water. We try to accommodate her. Vivian thinks Luke’s the best child to walk the face of the earth, and it’s easy to get along with someone who’s so devoted to your kid.
For that reason alone, we make sure we have low-carb this, and free-range that, so the meals are to her approval, as well.
Luke watches, transfixed, while Vivian chatters on about spending her girlhood on horseback. “Far be it for me to brag, but I consider myself to be an expert at biscuits and gravy.”
Gracie scoffs. “When was the last time my sister ate a biscuit, I’d like to know.”
As soon as the segment is over, the phone rings. It’s Vivian who wants to know what we thought. Gracie chats with her as she takes Luke upstairs to have his bath and get ready for bed. I head up a little while later to read to Luke but he’s already half asleep. I tuck him in and kiss his forehead.
My phone dings as I shut Luke’s door. It’s a message from Gracie.
I have a confession. I’ve stowed away on your ship, Captain Calhoun…
I can’t keep from smiling as I stroll down the hallway. Grace loves her little games, and I have to admit, I do too. I never know what she’s going to come up with. A few weeks ago, she came to bed wearing a French maid’s outfit. Christmas Eve she was a naughty elf.
Candles light the bedroom. Gracie lies in bed, wearing a white, lacy, one-piece bodysuit. She smiles and bites her lip. I’m awestruck. The only thing I can think to do, besides stare, is lock the door behind me. From the first moment I saw Grace, I thought she was the prettiest woman I’d ever laid eyes on. I still do, of course, but sometimes she takes my breath away.