Cowboys Last All Night

by Jennifer Ashley

  Trace felt so incredibly hard in her hand, but the skin over all that rigidness was soft. She honestly had never liked going down on Salvatore, but he’d always made her.

  This was different. She wanted to taste Trace and to see what it was like to have him in her mouth. Would he feel pleasure when she did it? Just being with Trace seemed to erase every bad memory of her ex, as if he’d never existed and those things had never happened. At least for now.

  She darted out her tongue and licked the head of his cock. He groaned and she looked up at him and met his gaze. By the look in his eyes, he wanted her to continue. He smoothed her hair away from her face as she started to slide his cock inside her mouth. She grew wet as she kept her gaze focused on his, unable to look away.

  “God, that’s good,” he said as his cock entered the wetness of her mouth.

  He was so big that she could barely slide him between her lips. He was also so long that she couldn’t take all of him, but she tried. He groaned again as she experimented with the way she licked and sucked him while she moved her hand up and down the lower part of his cock. She’d never wanted to give the kind of pleasure that she did at this very moment.

  A sense of being inadequate made her hesitate, but she pushed the feeling aside. By the look on his face, he was enjoying what she was doing. It made her feel somehow powerful, that she was able to make him look like he was about to lose control. His jaw was tight, his expression strained. She reached for his balls with her free hand and caressed them while she sucked his cock.

  Making him so aroused caused her to ache and grow wetter between her thighs. Her skin felt more sensitive. It was as if the brush of his fingers alone could cause her pleasure beyond anything she’d ever felt before.

  “Amazing. You’re fucking amazing.” He sounded like he was out of breath as he took her by the shoulders while taking care not to hurt her wounded arm. “Come here, baby.”

  She let his cock slip from her mouth and released him as he brought her to her feet. He lowered his head and kissed her. This time it was a long, slow, lingering kiss. She leaned in to him, her naked body against his. She loved the feel of skin to skin and his cock pressed against her belly.

  He stroked her, his callused palms rough, but his hands gentle as they moved over her soft flesh. She explored his body with her fingertips, loving the feel of his hard masculinity, his defined muscles and the hardness of his biceps. She traced a path down his abs, nearing his cock.

  His kiss grew more intense with every touch and he slid his fingers into the wetness between her thighs. She gasped into his mouth as he stroked her clit and sent shockwaves through her. The calluses on his fingers made her flesh even more sensitive.

  He raised his head as he slid his fingers into her core. “You’re so damned wet,” he said before he brought his mouth to hers again. He pumped his fingers in and out of her as he kissed her.

  His fingers felt so good inside her, stroking her, reaching places that had never been touched before. Her core contracted as she made a soft humming sound that came from deep inside her, turning into a moan. He trailed his free hand up her shoulders and her neck before sliding it into her hair.

  With another soft moan, she broke the kiss. “I want you inside me, Trace. Please.”

  “I have plans for you.” He drew his fingers out of her core and slid them into his mouth. Her knees felt weak as he sucked off her juices. “Damn you taste good.”

  He picked her up by her waist, catching her off guard. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on, her arms around his neck. He carried her around the table to the other side of the room. It was further away from the nearby lantern they’d lit, a little darker.

  He laid her on the bed so she was looking up at him. She drank him in and reveled in the intensity of his gaze.

  While they’d been playing poker, he’d stoked the fire. The firelight flickered, casting shadows across his face. The way he looked at her—it was as if she was the only woman in the world as far as he was concerned, something she’d never experienced before. A feeling of being desired and cherished all at the same time. This didn’t feel like a man simply lusting after her, a man wanting sex.

  This was a man who wanted more from her than sex. She didn’t think he could fake the look in his eyes that made her feel like he wanted something more from her. No, from what she’d gotten to know about the man, nothing he ever did was fake.

  “Don’t move.” He trailed his fingers over her cheek in a gentle movement that left her skin tingling. “I’ll be right back.”

  For a moment she wondered why he was leaving and what he was searching for until he found his jeans and picked them up, then fished something out of the pocket. In the light of the lantern near him, she saw that it was a wallet and he was removing something from it. A condom, no doubt.

  He returned, climbed onto the bed and positioned himself so that he was over her, bracing his hands to either side of her.

  For one brief flash she thought of the last time she’d had a man over her and of what he had done to her. But she shoved every unwelcome thought from her mind. This moment was special. This was Trace.

  He tossed a condom package to the side on the bed, lowered his head and kissed her again. She loved his mouth, the way he nipped at her lower lip, and the way his tongue slipped into her mouth and touched hers. She followed his lead, kissing him the way he kissed her.

  When he raised his head, he shifted and she wondered if he was going to put on the condom and slide inside her. The size of his cock caused her body to tense as she thought of him entering her.

  Instead, he eased down her body until his head was between her thighs. Her eyes widened. Was he going to lick her there? She’d heard of it—

  He licked her clit and she nearly came off the bed. It was like a bolt of electricity shot through her.

  Oh, my God.

  Her legs trembled as he licked her folds, and something wound so tightly inside her that all she knew was that she didn’t think she’d survive it much longer. She gripped the bed covering. Something had to give and she was afraid it was going to be her sanity. She was losing her mind even as the pleasure caused her to soar.

  He slipped two fingers inside her wet core and began pumping them in and out, faster and faster until she lost it.

  Nothing short of an explosion rocketed through her body. It was like fireworks went off inside her, heating her through and causing hair to rise along her arms. A long keening wail came from somewhere, ringing in her ears. She felt as if she’d been blinded and she couldn’t see or think, she could only feel the most amazing pleasure of her life. Pleasure so great it was almost painful.

  An orgasm. She’d just had the first orgasm of her life.

  Trace continued to lick her and move his fingers in and out of her. Every touch made her feel so sensitive that she almost struggled to make him stop.

  “I can’t.” She moved her head back and forth, not knowing what she was talking about, only that what he was doing was sweet torture. “I—oh, God.”

  “You can.” He murmured against her folds. “You will.”

  He kept moving his fingers in and out and licking her. She lost it again, climaxing even harder than before. This time she knew where the cry came from—she was going to make the cabin fall down on them if she screamed any louder. He drew her orgasm out until she was nothing but a limp doll, totally worn and exhausted.

  A triumphant expression was on his face as he rose up and looked down at her. He paused to do something—at that moment she couldn’t have cared less what it was—and he moved his cock to her core.

  She never had time to tense or to worry about his size. Hell, she didn’t care. She just wanted him inside her.

  He took his time, easing inside, sliding his cock into her wet heat. She could swear his eyes nearly crossed as she looked up at him. He buried himself fully before he began moving in and out with easy thrusts. He was so big inside her, making her full in a way she’d n
ever experienced before. She loved it, didn’t want to ever stop feeling the way she did right now, this full sensation and the thrills that made her come alive.

  His weight was partially on her, pinning her down. For one brief moment she felt a sense of panic of not being able to escape. The panic vanished, was smoothed away as Trace whispered in her ear.

  “God, you’re special.” He teased her earlobe with his teeth as he kept his movements slow and steady. “There is no one like you.”

  She loved the way it felt with his body on hers. In his gaze she saw something that resonated with her…as if she belonged to him…and he belonged to her.

  Another orgasm started building inside her. She found it hard to catch her breath. She wrapped her arms around him, digging her nails into his back, holding on for dear life.

  His thrusts came faster and faster and her eyes widened as his cock stroked a part of her deep inside that made her crazy. She squirmed beneath him, her lips parted as her breaths came in harsh, short pants. He made her feel so good. Not like a body being used, but a person who was cared for in ways she’d never been cared for before.

  And then she was gone again, her mind spinning like she was on some kind of carnival ride. Her body rocked beneath his. He kissed her hard before he reared back, a loud guttural sound coming from his throat as he climaxed. He thrust several times more, making her cry with every pulse of his cock.

  He nearly collapsed on her, but managed to hold most of his body weight off of her. His skin was slick with sweat and she realized hers was, too. She could feel the sweat in her hair and see it in his. She barely noticed a small ache in her arm.

  For a long moment he stared down at her. He looked as if he couldn’t put into words what had just happened between them. Instead of speaking, he lowered his head and took her mouth in a tender kiss, with a depth of caring that shook her entire body.

  He eased out of her and then came to rest on his side. She was boneless, still lying on her back as she looked at him.

  “There are no words.” She smiled, answering his silence. “But in doing my best, I will say that was incredible. Amazing. Unbelievable.”

  “I’d say you’ve got it down pretty damn good.” He stroked the side of her face with his fingertips.

  She found the strength to roll onto her side and face him. She reached out and caressed his jaw, his stubble rough under her fingertips. The way the firelight played on his features, he looked dark and mysterious.

  One of the things she liked about him was how open he seemed to be. He could be intense, like when he’d been the night they took down Salvatore, but he was easy to talk with, too. She liked him, really liked him. And then she realized she cared for him so intensely that it almost stole her breath away.

  The thought that she was his came back to her. That feeling had come out of nowhere, but she knew it was true.

  She’d had something of a crush on him for so damned long, and now she was in the arms of the real thing. She couldn’t imagine a single place she’d rather be.

  Chapter Eight

  Salvatore ground his teeth while he avoided the gazes of the five other prisoners, and he shifted in his seat in the transport van. At the same time he tried to keep from brushing his arm against the shoulder of the prisoner next to him. John was a six-foot-three murderer with sleeve and neck tattoos. The man must have weighed a solid two-fifty, all muscle.

  The chains connecting the cuffs at Salvatore’s wrists and ankles rattled as he tried to get more comfortable on the hard vinyl seats.

  From the corner of his eye he saw the armed ICE agent watching them, weapon clearly visible. What a fucking stupid acronym—International Customs Enforcement. They could have come up with something that didn’t sound so benign. Not that he cared. He’d be a free man in a matter of days.

  The cuffs chafed and the orange jumpsuit made him itch. It had to be the laundry detergent they used. He’d always been sensitive to some kinds of detergent. Christie had known the right brand to use.

  He clenched his fists as he thought about his wife. This was her fault. Fucking bitch.

  Five real criminals in the van with Salvatore had committed any manner of international crimes from murder to running drugs to stealing high priced vehicles in the U.S. and spiriting them across the border into Mexico. Like Salvatore, the men were also facing trial in federal courts.

  As far as Salvatore was concerned, he didn’t belong with these common murderers and thieves. What he did was specialized. He was a respected businessman, associated with the Jimenez Cartel, and had helped make the cartel, including El Verdugo, wealthier in the creative ways he had laundered money.

  The hour or so drive from the Florence prison to Phoenix seemed to take forever. The van hit a pothole, rocking the vehicle’s occupants. Salvatore’s shoulder bumped John’s arm and the big man shoved Salvatore away with a hard jab to his ribs.

  Salvatore winced and his eyes watered from the pain. He’d have a bruise, but he wouldn’t let the monstrous man have the satisfaction of knowing that.

  He let his thoughts turn toward the last bit of news he’d had about Christie. According to Paco Esperanza, Christie had disappeared. They’d followed the SUV she was in from the hospital, where it had been part of a caravan.

  When all three SUVs split up, the one Christie had been in had lost the tail they’d had on it. They hadn’t been able to find her since.

  However, with the cartel’s extensive network in Tucson and Phoenix, they were bound to find her. Especially with her uniqueness.

  Of the world population, only two percent were natural redheads, and the rarest combination in the world was red hair with blue eyes. Her shade of red didn’t come from a bottle and her large eyes were an unforgettable blue.

  He had liked that about her—that she was almost as rare as the chocolate cosmos that were only found in Mexico and only bloomed at the end of the summer and in the evening. The flower was extinct in the wild and a single clone was now reproduced by propagation. If the flower could have been taken out of Mexico, he would have collected it, too.

  He liked to collect rare things, and Christie had been one of his precious belongings.

  A flash of fury burned through him and his body went hot. His gaze met the agent’s guarding them. The anger searing Salvatore must have shown clearly because the agent narrowed his eyes and shifted the weapon in his lap.

  Salvatore looked away. The hatred for all federal agents combined with the hatred for his wife. The woman he’d loved almost as much as he loved his money. He had been raised Catholic and taught to love God first, his wife second, and if they’d had children, he would have been told to place them third and his own parents fourth.

  He clenched his hands tighter. God had done nothing for him. God had failed him. His parents had been murdered, and his wife had given him no children. All he’d had was his money and his wife. Now she had a piece of paper that said they were divorced and she planned to testify against him.

  Fucking bitch.

  Everything had been stripped from him. It was good he had siphoned money into offshore accounts that the cartel didn’t know about. Only one of his cousins knew, and he would remain silent.

  Another pothole jarred Salvatore’s teeth and threw him harder against the monster next to him. John let out a louder growl and rammed his elbow into Salvatore’s side so hard that Salvatore nearly fell into the aisle. Pain made his eyes water and he managed to right himself in his seat.

  When he got out of this mess, and he would, the first thing he’d do was order the death of this bastard. John had done a good job of making Salvatore miserable whenever he could, while in the prison. Salvatore would make John pay.

  Salvatore saw the Phoenix skyline growing closer. A cold chill chased away the heat of only moments before.

  His mind started playing the “what if” game. What if they didn’t find Christie before she could testify? Imprisonment could be for the rest of his life if Christie was in the p
icture.

  What if she was out of the picture, but the prosecution convinced the jury that Salvatore was guilty and put him in prison for twenty years for money laundering and other charges?

  He ground his teeth. No, that was not happening. The evidence the Feds had found wasn’t proof of anything beyond reasonable doubt. He was certain of that.

  And Christie’s testimony would never happen. She would die.

  Soon. Very soon.

  Despite the monster next to him, Salvatore found his mood lightening. The cartel had his back. El Verdugo would find some way to buy off a juror or two, maybe bribe the judge, and Christie wouldn’t be alive to testify.

  He had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Christie felt like singing, but settled for humming to herself while she finished washing and drying the breakfast dishes and putting them into the cabinets. The last three days with Trace had been amazing and she wished it didn’t have to end.

  It was early morning and they had to leave shortly to meet with Stillwater and the other FBI agents.

  Thoughts of the reason why they were leaving this sanctuary on Mt. Lemmon caused her mood to falter. She did her best not to think about it. She needed to enjoy the moment a little longer.

  The precious days in the cabin had gone by much too quickly as far as Christie was concerned. She’d enjoyed every minute of the time she and Trace shared. They’d talked, gone for walks, and curled up in front of the fire with hot chocolate topped with mini marshmallows.

  They’d made love more times than she could remember. She’d definitely lost track of the number of orgasms she’d had.

  The thoughts made her feel light and happier than she’d felt in as long as she could remember.

  To prepare to leave the cabin for another few weeks, Trace had cleaned out the ashes from the fireplace and dumped them outside, shuttered the windows, and checked the insulated water pipes, among other necessary duties.