Austin (American Extreme Bull Riders Tour Book 7)

by Jeannie Watt

  He caught her hand, brought her knuckles to his lips. “Lead the way, Kris.”

  Her heartbeat skipped as she realized what he was saying. He wanted her to take charge. To prove that he wasn’t taking advantage. The old insecurities started to rise, but she made a Herculean effort to put them aside.

  If he wanted her to lead, she’d lead.

  Without a word, she took his face between her palms and slowly pulled his mouth down to hers. But instead of kissing him, she teased his mouth, stroking his upper lip lightly with her tongue, nipping his lower lip. Doing her best to show him she could take charge. Austin stilled, met her gaze. She lifted her eyebrows.

  He gave her a so-it’s-going-to-be-like-that look, then pulled her against him, claiming her mouth. So much for her taking control. But she’d make her point and then there was no more thought of insecurity. Only Austin challenging her to let go. To forget everything except the sensual fire he was stoking with his lips, his tongue, his fingers. He slid his hands down over her ass, pressing her against his hard length before traveling back up her sides, brushing over her breasts, making her swallow first a gasp, then a groan as his thumbs brushed over her nipples through too many layers of fabric.

  There was no more ice princess. In her place was a woman whose insides were blazing.

  She sucked a breath between her teeth as his lips traveled down the side of her neck to the sensitive hollow there, before moving back up to her mouth again. Her nipples strained against her bra as he cupped her breasts, teased them through her cotton dress, her bra. There was simply too much fabric between them. She needed to feel his hands on her skin, not on her clothing.

  She turned and moved her hair aside, offering him the zipper of her dress. He took hold without a word, smoothly drawing it down to her lower back. She shrugged her shoulders and the dress skimmed down over her hips and fell to the floor. Stepping out of the pooled fabric she turned to him. There was nothing between them now except for expensive lace, cotton and denim.

  Austin addressed the cotton, popping the snaps of his shirt one by one, exposing his chest, his rock-hard abs. The scars on his pecs and the big one curving around his side.

  “Someday you’ll have to tell me about all these scars.” As soon as she spoke, she regretted it. One-night stand, remember? Except that she didn’t believe this was going to be a one-night thing…not when they had more nights together before heading home.

  “Which one do you want to know about?”

  She touched the small one on his pec, first with her fingers, then with her lips. His skin was salty, which made her want to trail her tongue along the contours of his body, tasting as she went. Oh yeah. She was a salt girl.

  “I was young. Riding a bull whose horns hadn’t been blunted. Stupid.”

  She continued her exploration of his scars, of the hard planes of his chest and abs, without further questions. Time for that later. When her hands reached the top of his jeans, she looked up at him. “Any scars down here?”

  His chin dipped lower, watching as she undid the trophy buckle on his belt. His flat stomach contracted as she dipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans and undid the top button.

  “Feel free to explore.”

  She stepped back and gestured at his feet. “Boots, Austin.”

  He sat on the bed and pulled off his boots. Then he stood and unzipped his jeans, pushed them down over his muscular thighs, bringing his boxers with them. When he straightened, his erection bobbed impressively. Kristen looked first at his hard-on, then met his gaze and held it as she reached out and took his cock in her hand, running her hand over the heavy length of it.

  And then, she stepped forward, hands now on his chest, forcing him back until his knees hit the bed and he sat. That was when she lowered herself down between his knees and slowly drew him into her mouth. Felt a small rush of power.

  Austin’s head dropped back and his eyes closed as she sucked, teased, tasted, until he abruptly pushed himself upright. His breath was ragged as he said, “Yeah. That’ll do for now.”

  She slowly got to her feet, dragged her gaze from his swollen cock to his face. He made a circular gesture with his finger. “Turn around.”

  When she did, he pushed aside her hair and undid the clasp of her bra, then tucked his thumbs into the sides of her panties and rolled them down past her thighs. Kristen’s breath hitched as the silk slid down her legs, then she inhaled sharply, when he lightly nipped the cheek of her ass.

  If she was wet before, she was drowning now.

  He put his hands on her waist, turned her around and pulled her down beside him on the bed, where his hard body pressed against hers. But what she thought was going to be a quick coupling, turned out to be a long, slow exploration of her body—every part of her body. He worked his way to her most vulnerable area, and she gave a tiny whimper as his tongue flicked over her sensitive clit. One more touch like that and she’d be done for.

  Austin must have read the warning signs, because he abandoned his mission and pulled himself back up alongside of her, stroking her hair back from her face, and dropping a quick kiss on her lips before getting out of bed and walking to his bag. A moment later he was back.

  He settled a knee between her thighs, a hand near her head as he positioned himself over her, the blunt tip of his cock pressed against her. She had the strong feeling that he was giving her one last chance to back out, but there was no going back. He waited until her taut muscles relaxed before he started pushing himself into her. He was less than halfway in when she followed instinct and arched against him, hard, burying him all the way inside of her.

  “Is that what you wanted?” He murmured the question close to her ear.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t think of anything that had ever felt better than Austin inside of her.

  He lifted his hips, pulled almost all the way out of her, then slowly drove into her.

  “Like that,” she murmured.

  His cock throbbed inside of her and then he began moving inside her with a steady rhythm. Slow, but not too slow. Then fast, but not too fast. Touching that magical spot some people said didn’t exist. It did. And it was sending wicked sensations through her every time the end of his cock hit it.

  Oh. No.

  “Don’t…”

  “What?” He stopped instantly, his hand coming up to her cheek, his eyes dark with concern.

  She pressed against him. “Don’t let me come too soon.”

  He let out a breath, shook his head, then started again with a serious motion, his strokes long and deep. She felt the climax building again, fought against it. It was too soon, way too soon.

  “Austin…”

  He didn’t slow down. He kept moving, his rhythm increasing, his body beating into hers. Her control was slipping…and then it was gone.

  She cried out against his shoulder as her body exploded. She arched against him and then came down to earth in a thousand small pieces. Austin gave one final deep stroke before his head dropped and he half collapsed, taking care not to drop all his weight onto her.

  As if she cared.

  She smoothed the damp hair away from his forehead, bringing her cheek to rest against the side of his head. She closed her eyes, let out a low breath as his hand came up to cup her breast.

  “I can’t remember the last time I felt this good,” she murmured.

  “I’m doing okay on this end, too.” He ran a hand over her back in a slow soothing motion.

  She let herself relax against him, wishing they could simply go to sleep, but he had the function to go to. “What happens now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t want things to get weird, you know…after we get back to Marietta.”

  He raised an eyelid to look down at her. “When reality takes over?”

  “Exactly.”

  “They won’t get weird.” He sounded like he fully believed what he said, and that helped Kristen believe as well. “We’ll enjoy this tim
e while we have it, then real life will kick in and we’ll go back to being friends. The important thing is that we know that going in. Know what we want. Know what we expect.”

  “Sounds good.” It also sounded like a free pass to do what she’d never dared do before—enjoy life in the here and now, with no big plans for the future.

  He rolled over onto his side so that they were face to face. “Tell me something.”

  “What?”

  “How’d you get that scar on your upper arm?”

  “My scar?” She twisted her arm so that she could see the J-shaped white mark. The accident had happened such a long time ago that she rarely thought about her scar—especially since she couldn’t see it.

  “It’s how I knew it was really you in the casino that night.”

  She made a face at him as she let her arm drop back onto the bed. “Taken down by my past.”

  “I was almost convinced that it wasn’t you until I saw it.”

  And maybe, considering all that had happened between them, that was a good thing. “I was fencing with my cousins on the MCC ranch one summer. The wire they were pulling snapped and whipped back. I was lucky it only hit my arm.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know.”

  He rolled her over onto her back and gave her a long, lingering kiss. “I need to go.”

  “You do,” she agreed.

  “I want you to come with me.”

  “I honestly have nothing suitable for a western event.”

  “I don’t trust Gustavo not to slip away and come calling. We’ll find something.”

  Kristen nipped his lower lip, smiling when he gently returned the favor. “No worries there. One bull rider is plenty. I don’t need two.”

  Chapter Ten

  Austin kept a loose hold of Kristen’s fingers when he finally led her out of the hotel suite where the American Extreme Bull Riders meet and greet was still in full swing. They’d done the social thing—met sponsors and deep-pocketed fans. Answered questions, drank good liquor. And for the entire hour and a half that they were there, all Austin could think about was getting Kristen back to the hotel room.

  He would let her lead this relationship, because she had the most at stake. If they got back to the room and she decided that another sexually charged romp was not what she was looking for, he could deal. But on the other hand, if she wanted a lot of good sex with a guy she could trust, he was her man.

  From the way she wrapped herself around him as soon as the hotel room door closed behind them, he deduced that she hadn’t changed her mind.

  And he was damned glad of it.

  This time when they made love, it was hard and fast. A sprint to the finish, ending in a satisfying tie.

  He waited until they caught their breath before asking, “What are your plans for the future?” He brushed a lazy finger down the side of her face. “Because I know you have a plan.”

  She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “My plan is to make a plan.”

  “So nothing definite.”

  “Which isn’t easy for me.” She rolled onto her side. “I’ve always had a direction, an immediate goal, a long-term goal. They built one on top of the other and it was all so damned smooth.”

  “You’d never considered the possibility of being laid off?”

  “Call me naïve, but no. I’d worked hard and expected to be rewarded. And then I wasn’t, so now I have to figure out how to get back on track.”

  “Do you want to get back onto the same track?” he asked slowly.

  “What do you mean?”

  He dropped an arm over her, pulling her closer. “I mean that the plan you made for your life when you were sixteen, or eighteen, or twenty might not be right for you now. Sometimes you have to change.”

  She angled her head so she could see him better. “I could say the same thing to you.”

  She had a point. He’d been following the same vision since high school. “My plan is still working.”

  “But for how long?”

  “Until I stop winning enough money to stay on the tour…or until I incur a debilitating injury.”

  Her muscles tightened beneath his palm. “That’s crazy.”

  “That’s bull riding.”

  “You have no intention of quitting while you’re ahead?”

  “What’s the point of being ahead, if you’re going to quit?”

  “Having the use of all your many body parts?”

  “I can’t quit, Kristen.”

  She rolled onto her side, cupping her palm against his cheek. “Why?”

  “Hard to explain.”

  “Try?”

  “Bull riding is…” How could he articulate the deep need to do the impossible? To challenge and be challenged? He let out a breath. “Give me a little time on this.”

  “If you come up with an answer, let me know. Because I’m beyond curious.” She stroked her hand along his side, down to the hollow of his hip, where it came to rest.

  “Don’t be disappointed if you never get the answer, because some things can’t be put into words.”

  She bit her lip, as if fighting a smile. “I’m aware.”

  He slid his hand over her gorgeous ass, pulling her that much closer as his dick started to swell. “Are you?”

  A nip on his lip answered his question. Communication without words. His favorite kind. He rolled her over, found her lips and lost himself in a slow exploration of her mouth as his fingers zeroed in on her warm, wet center.

  She pressed against his hand as his finger slipped inside of her, and all thoughts of explaining his love of bull riding evaporated from his brain.

  *

  Kristen could sum up the focus of her life in her Salt Lake City hotel room in three simple words: sex with Austin.

  And if she wanted to expand her summary to four words, it would be: more sex with Austin.

  She was pleasantly tired and a little sore and beyond satisfied with her breaking free adventure—but now that she was seated in the VIP section of the American Extreme Bull Riders venue, waiting for smoke and fire to announce the beginning of the performance, reality was starting to filter its way into her insular break-free world. She was going home tomorrow. Back to real life and all its complications.

  Living a freeform life, drifting, sounded like fun, but it wasn’t realistic to someone like her who didn’t have a lot of money in the bank. Who didn’t ride bulls for a living.

  Austin wouldn’t be able to ride bulls forever.

  And he didn’t know what he wanted to do when his career was over. Kristen smiled a little. That should bother her more than it did, because he was not being sensible, but Austin seemed to have a way of landing on his feet. And he was as driven as she was. He’d figure something out.

  The house lights dimmed and the music started, pounding out a primitive beat, energizing the audience as the bull riders strode through the smoke and took their places along the flaming line. Austin was facing away from her, feet spread, hands on his buckle in a classic bull rider stance. She now recognized names from the party where she’d met the other riders—Casey, Cody, Gage. When Austin’s name was called, she felt a well of pride and possessiveness. Her bull rider.

  The music hit a crescendo as the bull riders started back toward the chutes. Austin looked her way as he followed T.J. Casey out of the arena, and even though she was certain he couldn’t actually see her, he touched the brim of his hat before disappearing through the gate next to the chutes.

  She came close to lifting her hand in response. And it was suddenly kind of scary to feel this connected to a guy whom, logic told her, could only be a fleeting part of her life.

  The price of breaking free, having her adventure.

  She could deal with the situation—it just might not be as easy as she’d first assumed.

  *

  There was nothing better than being on top of the game, and that was exactly how Austin felt as he straddled the rails over Prime Time. He set a
foot on the bull’s back, letting him know that the routine had begun. Prime Time barely acknowledged him as he then settled in place near the flank strap and started working the rope.

  Two wins in a row. That was the goal. Prime Time was an unpredictable bucker, changing up his modus operandi each time he came out of the chute, but Austin was okay with that. He had a talent for reading subtle cues, noting the tells.

  He did a quick prep, wanting to get on with the ride. Once the tail of the rope was folded into place, he tucked his chin, patted the rail and nodded. The next thing he knew he and three-quarter tons of bull were high in the air just outside of the chute.

  Prime Time’s front legs pounded back down to earth. Seven seconds left.

  The subtle roll of muscle under his left thigh and the spin began, into his hand.

  Six…Five…Four…

  His chest jerked and his shoulders snapped back as the spin abruptly ended and Prime Time changed directions with a twisting ass over ears maneuver that caught him off guard, pulled him away from his hand.

  Shit.

  Muscles burning, he pushed deep into his feet, fought like hell to keep from going down, but gravity had a mad hold on him.

  Three…Two…

  He struggled, teeth gritted, sheer determination keeping him in contact with the bull as about a thousand G’s pulled on his wrist—

  The horn blew as he felt the air between his ass and the bull.

  The earth met him in a teeth-jarring crash. Dirt stung his face, and then his entire upper body lifted as the bull stepped on his calf, his hoof sliding off his boot. His face hit the dirt again as pain seared through his lower leg.

  Son of a bitch.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, the dirt in his lashes stinging his eyes. There was a thud next to him, not loud enough to be the bull, and he raised his head to see the bull fighter peering down at him. Immediately he started pushing up to his feet. A hand slid under his arm and he made it all the way up to vertical.

  One limping step and the crowd roared. The score came over the loudspeaker, but he didn’t catch it. Eighty something. Enough for the finals?