TroubleToysTemptingCowboys

by Jennifer LaRose

  His penis slipped in easily through the abundance of juices. She locked her legs at his back, resting her heels on the butt end of the bull. A second later, he depressed a button on the side of the machine. A soft hum filled her ears. Then it began to rotate and buck at a turtle’s pace.

  A low growl escaped from his throat, overpowering her slight groan. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her cheek against the side of his head. The back and forth, side to side motions forced his cock deep. During the slight declines, Brock’s penis never descended lower than an inch before it jammed in to the hilt again on the incline.

  Every woman needed a mechanical bull. Tiffany definitely did. To think the most exotic place she’d ever made love was on a washing machine… God, she hadn’t lived until tonight.

  Brock grabbed her ass cheeks, pulling her close. Friction from his pubic bone grazed her clit, his coarse hairs prickling and prodding the sensitive area. Teensy flames erupted inside her pussy. It felt like a bazillion-watt vibrator was buzzing around her crotch. Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, another electrifying sensation rippled through her body from her head to her toenails. Holy shit.

  Was Brock experiencing similar bliss?

  Yes, obviously. The desperation in his grip when he lifted her breast and took a nipple into his mouth proved it. He squeezed and nibbled and sucked the peak until it felt swollen and engorged. But it didn’t hurt. Not in an ouchy way. It aroused her beyond anything she’d ever imagined…and she wanted him to bite harder, yank her nipple between his teeth so she could feel the actual ache.

  Why was pain suddenly appealing when she’d feared it all her life?

  Had she finally lost her mind?

  Had desire driven her beyond her realm?

  Or was it simply because his desperate actions proved he wanted her? And she wanted to express her desperation in return.

  Switching to the opposite breast, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and tormented it in the same agonizing way. She laid a hand on the back of his head and pulled him close, pressing her chest against his face.

  He dropped his arm to the side of the machine and pushed the button, increasing the speed.

  His cock thrusts quickened, impaling her womb, his pubic bone not missing a beat while bashing her overly sensitive swollen clit. “Yes,” she hissed.

  One electrical zing after another filtered through her cunt. Sweat bubbled along her neck beneath her hair. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. An intense shockwave danced from one nerve to the next while she wavered on a thin line between sanity and delirium. “Turn it up,” she begged, gasping for air. “Buck me harder.”

  The instant the bull bucked, the pressure inside her pussy exploded in a euphoric burst of white bliss. Her vaginal muscles clenched and unclenched his penis to the point she feared she’d hurt him. But she couldn’t control the severe constriction of her inner walls. During each incline of the bull, Brock’s cock sank deeper, intensifying the orgasm. Her belly twitched and shoulders stiffened. At the base of his neck, she fisted a handful of hair and held it so tightly his bristled chin dug into her collarbone.

  “Faster,” she shouted. She squeezed her eyes shut and bit at the corner of her bottom lip while he again increased the speed. It wasn’t until she’d quit shuddering and completely drained his semen that he’d shut off the machine.

  He kissed beads of sweat off her throat. The heat of his lips sent a final shudder along her spine.

  “I reckon you prefer the bull over the washing machine?”

  Her cheek rubbed his hair when she nodded. “Is tomorrow too soon to install one of these things in my apartment?”

  Chapter Five

  A stream of sunshine filtered through the curtains, stroking Tiffany cheek, awaking her to a bright, beautiful Saturday morning. Or was it afternoon? She was too refreshed and content to have slept her normal six hours. What time was it?

  She sat up in the empty bed and glanced around Brock’s bedroom. Where was he? On the dresser sat a wagon-wheel-shaped clock. Big green numbers displayed the time as seven-thirty-five. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. A deep ache tore through the inside of her thighs. She rubbed them, then gripped the edge of the mattress and pushed herself to her feet.

  The cottony-soft carpet squished between her toes. She glanced down and grazed her foot along the smooth fibers.

  Because her clothes were strewn around the house and she’d neglected to carry her duffel bag inside, she stood stark naked with nothing to wear.

  “Morning, darlin’.”

  The slight drawl startled her and she jumped, turning toward the voice. Brock stood bare-chested in the doorway, dressed in blue jeans, eyeing her from head to toe. His hair hung loosely over his shoulders, unlike the usual ponytail tied at his back. What an amazing sight to wake up to first thing in the morning. She gulped, crossing her arms at her breasts. “Hi.”

  “I sure could get used to this picture.”

  Squeezing her arms tighter, she nodded and dropped her gaze to her feet.

  A dresser drawer slid open. In the next instant, he handed her a light blue tee-shirt, accompanying it with a kiss to the tip of her nose. “This’ll do for now while I round up your clothes.” He nudged his head toward an open door in the corner of the room. “I reckon you’ll want to freshen up a bit. Towels and washcloths are in the cupboard. Help yourself to whatever you need.”

  Mmm, he smelled good. And looked good. Fresh and clean-shaven with a touch of spicy aftershave lotion. “Thank you. My toothbrush is in the car.”

  “I’ll fetch your bags.”

  She waited until he left before taking the naked stroll across the room. When she flipped on the light, she expected to see a half bath. Instead, she’d walked into a full-sized bathroom, complete with a corner shower stall. Dark green ceramic tile covered the floor, and a mural of a forest lined the back wall with a doe drinking from a water stream. A buck stood guard behind her, partially hidden inside a grouping of tall trees. The beautiful realistic picture caught her breath.

  “I’m setting your bags out here on the floor,” followed a knock on the door.

  “Thanks.”

  “Your coffee will be poured and waiting.”

  After retrieving her items, she brushed her teeth and then jumped in the shower for a rejuvenating scrub. Hot water pummeled her body, releasing the ache from her upper thighs. She inhaled a long content breath.

  Before shampooing her hair, she indulged her legs to a quick shave. She loved the feel of slippery suds running across smooth skin.

  When she climbed out, rather than dress in her clothes, she stepped into a pair of lace panties and slipped Brock’s tee-shirt over her head. It smelled outdoor fresh like him. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, taking in as much of the scent as possible; enough to burn into her memory and carry home.

  She dug a brush from her case, ran it through her tangles then placed her hair in a ponytail on top of her head. It left an airy, free sensation along her neck. Exposing the bare skin to the elements screamed sexy. To her, anyway.

  Having repacked her supplies, she sauntered through the house into the kitchen. The aroma of coffee and bacon hung in the air. Brock wasn’t present, nor were the clothes he supposedly rounded up, but a cup of black coffee sat on the table beside a plate filled with crispy bacon and toast. She hadn’t eaten last night, and should’ve been starving, but she wasn’t. She never ate breakfast anyhow.

  Actually, not much of anything got done last night. She hadn’t even turned on the washing machine, having fed it a load of laundry. She flicked on the basement light and trotted down the steps. The washer was agitating, and three stacks of folded clothes sat on top of the dryer.

  After she returned to the kitchen, she lifted the coffee cup and took a sip. The porch swing chains outside faintly creaked.

  She glanced out the window. Brock was rocking slowly back and forth, holding a mug on his thigh. His hair remained untied and was dr
aped over the back of his shoulders.

  She reached for the screen door and twisted the handle. It squeaked as she stepped into an unusually humid morning. He glanced in her eyes as she drew close to the swing. Then his gaze wandered the length of her body, lingering on her shirt, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he smiled while patting the seat.

  She sat down, close enough to where her shoulder brushed his biceps. “It’s so beautiful and peaceful in the country,” she said, inhaling warm air. The unique smell of nature baking in the sunshine was as refreshing and rejuvenating as her shower. She’d need a second one soon—her skin was already sticky from the heat. “For twenty-five years I’ve listened to honking horns, loud mufflers, and barking dogs.”

  “Being a city gal, I imagine you’re used to it.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve never had this. I didn’t know what I was missing.”

  He laid an arm over her shoulder. She snuggled close, resting her head on his chest. “Thank you for doing the laundry. Didn’t you sleep?”

  “Not much. I spent the wee hours of the morning watching you. You’re a pretty restless sleeper. Bad dreams?”

  “Always.”

  “Might I ask?”

  She shook her head. A bead of sweat slid between her breasts to her upper abdomen. “Let’s just enjoy the peacefulness right now. I’ll be leaving soon, I’d like to take the image with me.”

  “You feel safe going home? You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. I’d be honored if you’d accompany me to Bobby’s today.”

  “Thank you, but I can’t.” Not that she wouldn’t love to, but she wasn’t ready to face any of the men who’d been present at the bachelor party. At least, not until she’d apologized personally to each one. She sipped her coffee. “I don’t think I’ll be in any danger. Mr. Woodenhaven wasn’t a nice man. I’m sure it wasn’t a random attack.”

  “Well, I’ll follow you home if need be.”

  For at least fifteen more minutes, she sat quietly, treating her vision to the gorgeous scenery. In the distance birds chirped, and a horse whinnied. No congested traffic or smog, just a peaceful visit with nature.

  Having finished her coffee, she took their cups inside to refill and then bounced downstairs to start the final load of clothes. When she returned outside, Brock stood in the shade beside the porch, aiming a hose over tiny strands of newly established grass that had sprouted through layers of straw.

  She set their coffee on the rail. Water sprinkled from the adjustable nozzle, and a cool mist found its way to her feet. It felt so good, she leaned forward slightly to capture some on her face.

  “Thought I might water the seed before the sun starts burning in this part of the yard.”

  Sweat glistened along his shoulders and chest. A droplet raced down his temple to his cheek. Brawny, hot and sweaty. And that bulge in his pants! How much could a woman’s eyes endure? She swallowed hard and walked off the porch, parking beside his body, scooting close until her shoulder brushed his arm. “Can I get you something cold to drink rather than the coffee?”

  “No thanks. Did you eat?”

  “I usually don’t eat breakfast.”

  “It’s the most important meal of the day.”

  She curled her toes in the ground. “Yeah, well, I probably haven’t eaten any since I was taken off baby formula and a bottle. My body may go into shock or something.”

  “I reckon that’s another thing pertaining to your upbringing?”

  She nodded, but before the prohibited topic deepened, she yanked the hose from his hands and turned the nozzle full-blast on his chest. He stiffened and sucked in a breath.

  “You just started yourself some trouble.”

  She giggled and ran backward away from him, pulling the hose along, blasting his body. He made a great target because he was so big.

  Water drenched his head and face as he bent down, picked up the portion still lying on the ground and crimped it, shutting off the water flow.

  Oh shit.

  Her mouth fell open as he charged her. She dropped the hose and took off running toward the barn. She swore her feet didn’t touch the ground once as she pounded ass to get to safety, laughing so hard her belly hurt. A pair of large hands grabbed her waist and pulled her backward. Holy hell, the man was fast. She squeaked.

  And then she was lifted and hefted over his shoulder.

  Double shit.

  “I’m sorry,” she squealed, panting for air. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But you looked hot. I was only trying to help.”

  And he didn’t say anything, why? Was he mad? A little bit of water couldn’t have pissed him off that much. A typical shower blasted him harder than the hose. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” she yelped in desperation. “I’ll even finish watering the grass.”

  “You’ll do more than that, I’m afraid.”

  Gulp. At least he spoke. And he hadn’t sounded mad. A little stern, but not mad. Well, she couldn’t tell if he’d used his angry voice, because she’d witnessed only one tone, and one emotion—mellow.

  She tried squirming out of his arms. He tightened his hold on her legs. “Remember the last ass-cracking you got? I recommend you stop wiggling, or the next one’s going to be on your bare behind.”

  She halted instantly, opening her eyes painfully wide. He wouldn’t dare! Of course she wasn’t in any hurry to find out. During sex, pain was becoming appealing to her, which obviously was because of the heat of the moment. Today, not so much. The threat of a spanking didn’t interest her…well, maybe just a little.

  Not that she wanted to find out right now. Perhaps if she rationalized or gained his pity, he’d let her go. “Will you please put me down?” she calmly asked. “My legs hurt.”

  “That’s what you get for running from me like a spooked cow.”

  “It’s not from that. It’s from riding the bull.”

  He patted her rear not too hard, but not too gently either. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, darlin’.”

  Holy shit. That little pat on her ass did not just make her crotch stir. No, it did not. And it was not warm pussy juices bubbling between her legs either. It was a hot spot from the blinding sunshine. Yes, that’s exactly what it was. Rays from the sun. Christ, what was happening to her?

  Ohh, she wanted to scream at her body’s perplexing silliness. And she nearly had when he set her on her feet and glared into her eyes as if contemplating the best method of torture. “I can’t believe a little bit of water made you mad. Look, you’re already dry.”

  Up went a brow. Water dripped from his hair, along his temples to the outside of his cheeks. “A little water?” He scooped her into his arms and laid her in the grass.

  Funny, she had no desire to fight him as he pinned her to the ground by lying on top of her, and pulled at the hose. It slithered across the yard like a snake. “I’ll show you a little water.” After grabbing the nozzle, he shot a stream into the yard then sat up, straddling her parted thighs. While gazing at her face, he slid the tee-shirt beneath her breasts, exposing her stomach. “You fight me, it’ll only get worse. Understand?”

  She nodded, anticipating the agony.

  Drip…drip…drip.

  Cold drops splattered her bare skin. She sucked in her tummy, holding her breath. “We’re even now,” she gnashed through her teeth.

  “Not even close.” He crimped the hose to remove the nozzle. A slow stream of water poured from the open end.

  Painfully slow, he swayed it back and forth along her lower abdomen. In a steady flow, it beelined straight to her crotch. Holy hell, it was freezing. She gasped, snapping her eyes shut, and nearly shot off the ground. But within mere seconds, after she’d adjusted to the water temperature, it was…nice. Really nice. So nice, in fact, heat swelled in her cunt, dismissing the cold.

  She moaned and gyrated her hips sideways, maneuvering her bottom so the torrent flowed through her folds.

  “Does that feel good?”

  She squeezed h
er eyelids and nodded rather than spoke.

  And it was as if heaven opened up and sucked her into its beauty when he lowered the hose directly over her pussy. In seconds, he ripped her panties off, spread her slit open with his thumb and index finger, and aimed the waterfall directly over her clit.

  “How about now?”

  “Dear God.” The brutal nonstop hit to the nub shot her into the ozone. Sparks ignited deep inside her womb. Brilliant colors burst through her head. Not a single nerve ending in her body escaped untouched. She clenched two handfuls of grass. Her back arched as convulsive spasms rocked her pussy. “Stop,” she pleaded. “Stop, stop, stop. It hurts too good.”

  The water stopped. The hose dropped. And in the breath of a second, he’d pulled down his pants, lay on top of her, and stuffed her full of his cock.

  “Ahh.” Her neck arched as he filled her to the max. Her vagina still throbbed from the violent orgasm, and it clenched and unclenched his dick.

  “Damn it, Tiff, this is going to be quick.” His jaw hardened. “Hell, your outsides are cold, and your insides are hot and tight. Fuck…”

  She took his face between her palms. “It’s okay,” she breathed on a gasp, nipping his upper lip. “I’m good. Once is enough, I promise.” With all the strength she could gather, she squeezed his penis with her vaginal walls.

  Immediately, he yanked it free from her depths, and blew his wad on her stomach.

  * * * * *

  Tiffany expected to arrive home by late morning, but she didn’t step into the apartment until two o’clock. Yellow tape still blocked the ground floor, and Mr. Woodenhaven’s apartment door remained open with the lights on inside.

  Lugging her duffle bag and purse over her shoulder, she trudged up the stairs carrying the overnight case. The inside of her thighs ached so she climbed them slow, one step at a time, rather than alternating feet. By the time she reached the top her legs weren’t as achy. But it was a good ache, indicating Brock hadn’t reneged on promises.

  After sticking the key in the lock, she carefully pushed open the door. The sight of Troy sitting on the couch in his hospital scrubs startled her. A bag of chips sat on his lap, hand shoved inside, and his feet were propped on the coffee table while he watched television. “Hi,” she said, discarding the supplies by her feet. “What are you doing here? I thought you were mad at me?”