Should've Been a Cowboy

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He closed the distance between them. “You can’t believe that.”

  “That’s what I was telling myself while you were kissing me senseless.” She stepped back and bumped against the latched door of an empty stall. “It seemed like a perfectly logical idea when you were unhooking my bra and I didn’t have the self-control of a gnat.”

  He groaned. “You’re torturing me.”

  “I know, and that’s mean. We should just go back before this gets any—”

  A loud crash and a flash of light was followed by a low rumble and the steady ping of rain on the barn’s tin roof. The dogs came in and padded over to Alex, tails wagging slowly.

  “Butch, Sundance, go lie down.” He pointed to the tack room where they each had a bed.

  With twin doggie sighs of resignation, they left for the tack room. When he turned back to Tyler, the rain had started to pound on the roof in earnest, and she had her hands behind her back and under her shirt as if she intended to fasten her bra. He was losing ground.

  “I guess we’ll have to make a run for it,” she said.

  “We could, but it’ll probably let up in a few minutes. We could wait and see if it does.”

  She hesitated. “I suppose.”

  “So why not stop what you’re doing and unlatch that stall door? There’s a nice bed of hay in there.”

  Her lips parted and heat simmered in her gaze as it had earlier in the hallway outside her room. This time she didn’t look away. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “Not when there’s something I want.” His heartbeat hammered in his ears, almost drowning the rattle of rain on the tin roof. “I think you want the same thing.”

  Her breathing quickened. “Now you’re the one torturing me.”

  “I can fix that.” Please let me love you.

  “Alex…”

  “Tyler…” He waited, willing her to turn and unlatch that stall door, yet knowing that she might not. If she decided to run out into the rain, he’d have to run with her, because she couldn’t arrive at the house dripping wet with him nowhere around. That would look bad.

  She finished hooking her bra. “I’m going to see how hard it’s coming down.” Breaking eye contact, she walked to the front of the barn.

  He scooped up his hat from the floor and followed her. If she insisted on making a run for it, he’d leave his hat on a shelf beside the door rather than ruin it in the rain. But he was still hoping she’d change her mind.

  She peered out the door into the gray light. Rain slanted across the landscape, blurring the outlines of the ranch house and the twin spruces in front of it. “I think we should go.”

  He put his hat on the shelf by the door. “I’m warning you, you’ll get wet.”

  She muttered something that sounded like I already am.

  If that was an admission of how he’d affected her, he wanted to hear it again. “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  “Okay.” He doused the lights, and once they were both out the door, he turned and shoved it closed.

  She yelped, and he swung around in time to see her land on her backside in the mud. He was beside her in three strides and leaned down to help her up. Except it didn’t work out that way. She managed to upset his balance just enough on the mud-slick ground that he went down, too. By throwing himself sideways, he avoided landing on top of her, but he had mud splattered all over his clothes.

  “I’m sorry!” She scrambled to her knees, rain dripping from her hair into her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, other than the mud. Are you?”

  “Yes, but… I don’t want to track all this into that beautiful house.”

  There was a back way into the house for exactly this reason. It opened into the utility room adjoining the kitchen. There was even a narrow, seldom-used staircase that led from the kitchen to the second floor, an addition made when three growing, often dirty, boys had needed to get upstairs without making too big a mess.

  But at the moment Tyler looked like she’d entered a wet T-shirt contest. Surely any red-blooded male would forgive him for neglecting to tell her about the back entrance into the ranch’s utility room and the staircase to the second floor.

  “There’s a cleanup sink in the barn,” he said. “We can go back and get the worst of it off there.”

  “All right.”

  He felt a little bit guilty for leading her back into the barn, but not much. When he’d kissed her a few minutes ago, she’d kissed him back. Vigorously. Vows of chastity were all well and good for some people, but he and Tyler weren’t those people. They needed each other too desperately.

  Maybe they’d clean off the mud and go back to the house without anything happening. It was possible. But he couldn’t imagine four more days of nothing happening. To his way of thinking, they might as well get started now.

  This time he didn’t turn on the overhead lamps. Low lights mounted near the floor were on a dusk-to-dawn sensor, and they glowed softly, illuminating the floor so they wouldn’t trip over anything and creating an ambiance that suited the mood Alex hoped for. Rain hitting the tin roof added another romantic touch.

  “Thanks for not turning on the lights,” Tyler said. “I’m a mess.”

  “Not in my book.” Even in low light, he had a good view of her yellow shirt plastered to her body. Her nipples made dents in the soaked material, and it was all he could do not to reach for her, mud and all. But the next move needed to be hers, not his.

  She slicked her wet hair back and squeezed some water out of the ends as she glanced upward. “I like the sound of the rain on a tin roof.”

  “Me, too.”

  She met his gaze briefly and looked away. “Where’s the sink?”

  “At the far end, beyond the last stall.”

  Her running shoes squished as she walked down the aisle between the rows of stalls. “Is there a goat in here, too? I seem to remember something about a goat.”

  “Yep, there’s a goat.” He followed her toward the back of the barn. “His name is Hornswaggled, and he shares a stall with a mare named Doozie. They’re inseparable.”

  “Which stall?”

  “Third from the end on the left.”

  Tyler detoured over to that stall and looked in. “Sure enough. Hi, there, Doozie and Hornswaggled. How do you like this weather we’re having?”

  Doozie stuck her nose over the stall door and the goat’s front hoofs clacked against the wooden door as he propped himself against it to beg for his share of attention.

  “They’re so friendly.” Tyler stroked Doozie’s nose with one hand and scratched the top of the goat’s head with the other.

  Alex came to stand beside her. “The Last Chance prides itself on being a friendly place.”

  “I’ve noticed.” She concentrated on the two animals instead of looking at him, but the color rose in her cheeks. “This horse isn’t a Paint like all the others.”

  “Nope. She was injured and needed a safe haven. Now she’s fine, but nobody’s willing to sell her, even if they can’t breed her.”

  Dislodging Tyler’s hand, Doozie moved closer to Alex, gazing at him expectantly.

  He reached out and rubbed her silky neck. “Sorry, Dooz. I don’t have any treats.”

  Hornswaggled bleated softly.

  “Nothing for you, either, Horny.”

  Tyler groaned. “That nickname is so bad, Alex.”

  “Don’t blame me. That’s what all the hands call him. He came to the ranch with that name, and nobody’s going to take the time to say all of it. Cowboys appreciate brevity.”

  Tyler glanced sideways at Alex as she continued to scratch the goat’s head. “So how much of a cowboy are you these days? Do you ride the range and stuff?”

  “I ride.” He liked being able to say that. “Mostly I ride Dooz. Why?”

  “Just wondered. Last summer you were still a city boy. You even told me you weren’t the cowboy type, but you’re… different now.”


  He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe she preferred city boys to cowboys. “How am I different?”

  “Well, you dress differently, and your hair’s a little longer. Your face seems a little more chiseled, but maybe that’s because of your hair. Also, there’s something else, something harder to define, an attitude…”

  “Are you saying I have an attitude?”

  “Not in a bad way. It’s more like a quiet confidence.”

  He was flattered, but still he had to laugh. “I just admitted a while ago that I have all kinds of doubts about this event tomorrow. That doesn’t seem like quiet confidence to me.”

  “This isn’t about your job, it’s about… your…” She took a deep breath. “It’s about your sex appeal, okay? I have no business talking about it, because it will only make me want to do things I shouldn’t do.” She moved away from the stall door. “Where’s that sink?” She started toward the end of the barn. “We need to get cleaned up and go back to the house. Dinner is probably ready, and I—”

  He spun her around and pulled her into his arms, mud and all. “Let’s do those things.” Then he kissed her, knowing that she would kiss him back, knowing that this time he would take that kiss where he wanted it to go, and she would let him.

  Her mouth tasted of rain and desire, and he knew the rest of her would, too. Heart pounding with anticipation, he began to strip her down, peeling her T-shirt over her head, unhooking her soaked bra, unbuttoning her jeans. He encouraged her to help him in a voice hoarse with need.

  She did, nudging off her shoes, kicking away her wet jeans, shimmying out of her panties. He warmed her chilled skin with his mouth and his hands — stroking, licking, kissing every fondly remembered inch of her. She moaned and quivered in his grasp.

  Her moan of delight was the music he’d yearned to hear for ten long months. One night was all they’d had together, and yet his feelings for her were so damned strong. She seemed to be as caught up in the whirlwind as he was. When he closed his mouth over her taut nipple, she arched into him and held the back of his head, tunneling her fingers through his wet hair as he sucked.

  The tempo of the rain increased, urging him on. As her body warmed, he moved lower. Finally he sank to his knees and cupped her satiny bottom in both hands. Ah, the scent of heaven — Tyler, fully aroused, wanting him as much as he wanted her. He couldn’t imagine anything better than that.

  His tongue remembered her exotic taste and knew the way to her sweet spot. There, waiting for him, needing him. He touched the tip of his tongue to her clit. She gasped and clutched his head for balance. But she did not pull back, did not tell him no. She was willing to be vulnerable and let him love her, at least for this moment in time.

  Filled with gratitude, he took her, claiming her with an open mouth and a questing tongue. She was slick with passion, and he savored the richness of her desire. Her soft cries of delight spilled over him as he stroked rhythmically with his tongue in time to the steady beat of the rain overhead. He would give her this, even if they could share nothing else.

  She began to tremble, and he used more pressure. With a groan that spoke of intense pleasure, she came, bathing his tongue in her juices. He drank joyfully, holding her, supporting her so she wouldn’t fall.

  At last her body grew quiet and she drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, Alex.” She said his name on a sigh of happiness.

  He couldn’t ask for a better response than that. Slowly he stood, sliding his hands up her body as he rose to his feet. His legs were rubbery from the rush of adrenaline, and his cock was absolutely killing him. But a cowboy filled with quiet confidence would be stoic about such things.

  Once they were face-to-face again, she looked into his eyes. “That was…” Her breath caught. “So good.”

  “Glad you liked it.” He stroked her back as she nestled against him. He loved the transformation when a woman had a climax, and he especially loved watching Tyler lose every bit of the tension she’d held in her body. Having a work ethic like hers could take its toll. He should know.

  “Mm.” She rested her cheek against his damp shirt. “I don’t know what the heck I was thinking, letting you strip me naked and make me come.”

  “That you needed that?”

  “I suppose. Anyway, I’m going to listen to the music of the rain and pretend it was Fate.”

  “Good.” He caressed her smooth skin, which was something he probably should stop doing, because the more he touched her, the harder he became.

  “So what now?”

  He frowned, wishing he had a better solution for the next phase. “Unfortunately, we probably need to sponge the mud off our clothes and go back.”

  “I don’t think you’re ready to go back.”

  “It’s not that I want to, but—”

  She wiggled against him. “I’m not talking about whether you want to or not. I don’t think you can do it physically.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m worried that in your condition, you’ll have trouble walking.” She reached down and rubbed the spot where the seams of his fly were threatening to give way under the pressure.

  He drew in a sharp breath as her casual touch brought pleasure laced with pain. “I’ll be fine.” But his quick words sounded as strained as he felt.

  “Yes, you will be fine. Very fine. I’ll see to it.” She stepped back and maintained eye contact as she used both hands to unbuckle his belt.

  His heart thundered with anticipation, and yet she’d have to get to her knees on the barn floor. He grasped her wrists. “No.”

  “If you can do me, then I sure as heck can do you.”

  He held her fast, refusing to let her continue with her plan. “It’s different. I had on jeans when I got down there.”

  “No worries.” Glancing at the floor, she stretched out one shapely leg and used her elegantly polished toes to drag her crumpled jeans over to rest at her feet. “Voila.”

  Then she met his gaze again. “Happy now?”

  He groaned softly. “I think I’m about to be.” He released her wrists with a sigh.

  “You betcha, cowboy. Now hold still.”

  He tried, but watching her unbutton his fly and pull down his briefs gave him the shakes. Her soft murmur of admiration nearly made him come, and when she put both hands on him — one circling his cock and the other cradling his balls — he had to close his eyes and lock his knees in order to remain standing.

  Fabric rustled, and he knew she must have knelt on her jeans, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. The sight of her there, poised for the next step, would be enough to send him over the edge. He’d made it this far, and he wanted… oh, yes… that… the flick of her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, the gentle suction…

  He wouldn’t last long. The sensation was erotic by itself, but knowing that Tyler was the one caressing him drove him slowly insane. He’d wanted her for so long, and now she was here, on her knees…

  Even though he clenched his jaw, attempting to be the strong, silent type, a moan escaped. And another. He was breathing like a long-distance runner nearing the finish line.

  And he was nearing the finish line. Her tongue danced along the underside of his cock, and then she did a swirling maneuver over the tip before taking him deep again. His penis touched the back of her throat.

  And now he wanted to see. Opening his eyes, he took in the stirring sight of her drawing back, her cheeks hollowing to increase the pressure. Slowly she rolled his balls in the palm of her hand, creating a subtle yet powerful massage.

  Dizzy with the need to come, yet desperate to prolong the ecstasy because this might never happen again, he combed shaking fingers through her luxurious hair, keeping his touch light even though she was winding him tight… and tighter yet. Once again she took him up to the hilt and slowly pulled back.

  He was losing the fight. Control began slipping away as she used her tongue again before pulling his entire length deep inside. While holding him
there and applying rhythmic suction, she pressed a ridge directly behind his balls… and he came in a rush. His surrender was total and vocal. He cried out and was very afraid his knees would buckle.

  But, in truth, his center of gravity was buried in her mouth, which was the only logical reason he didn’t fall down as a climax roared through him with the force of a tsunami. The movement of her throat as she swallowed sent a current of electricity from his cock straight up his spine to short-circuit his brain.

  He had no idea how much time passed before she slowly released him and gently tucked him back into his briefs. When she got to her feet, he took a long, shuddering breath and tried to remember his name.

  She cupped his face in both hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I think you liked that.”

  “That…” He paused to clear his throat. “That is the understatement of the year.” Sliding his fingers through her still-wet hair, he cradled her head and gazed into her shining eyes. “I’m afraid our plan to avoid sex is a total failure.”

  “You could say that.”

  “So I guess we need a new plan.”

  “All right.” Her gaze was steady. “How about great sex with no strings and no regrets?”

  He nodded. “Might as well aim high.”

  “We can do it. We managed it last time.” She said it with conviction, in the same tone she’d used when she’d assured him his event tomorrow would work out. He couldn’t deny that her sunny approach to life appealed to him.

  “Sure we can.” He agreed with her because he had no choice. He’d craved her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her ten months ago. Now that she was within reach, he wanted to be with her day and night — especially night. If he felt any strings tugging at his heart as a result of spending time in her arms and in her bed, he’d just have to cut them.

  Although she wasn’t truly like Crystal, other than the fact that they both liked looking good, she still wanted a different life from the one he envisioned for himself. Good sex didn’t mean he had to let himself fall for the woman, no matter how sunny her disposition was. So he wouldn’t.

  Chapter Five