Wild Seduction

by Daire St. Denis

  The audience gave out a collective gasp as Colton narrowly avoided the bull’s horns before climbing the rungs of the gate to safety. Together, the rodeo clown and outriders corralled the bull back to the stockyard, resulting in a cheer from the crowd and a hat wave from Colton.

  “My, my,” Jazz whispered in her ear. “That man must get your juices flowing.”

  Ash turned to her friend. “Colton knows how to put on a show.”

  “Yeah.” Jasmine’s eyes were aglow with admiration. “He’s something else.”

  Really?

  So now Jazz was seduced by Colton’s manly displays? Because that was what it was, right? A display. An egotistical need for attention. Why else would someone willingly climb on to the back of an angry animal and risk their life for all and sundry to witness?

  “Listen,” Jazz said. “I know you’ve got to stick around and take pictures, and I overheard you’ve got plans with Colton, so I’m going to head back to the fairgrounds and visit with some people. Catch up at the saloon tonight?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  Jasmine reached for her hands and squeezed. “You are one lucky girl.”

  “Thanks,” Ash said softly.

  Lucky? Ashley didn’t feel lucky.

  More like one of the calves in the roping contest. In way over her head and about to be taken down and humiliated for all to see.

  * * *

  ASHLEY LEANED AGAINST the gate, wishing she hadn’t cut off her jeans so that she could wipe her damp palms down the front. She gave herself a mental shake. This was stupid. Why did she feel nervous?

  Because you have no idea what Colton wants from you.

  True.

  So, what would it be? A challenge? A dare? Something menial? Something sexual...?

  Her tummy tightened at the thought.

  And not in a bad way.

  Shit!

  “Heya, Ashley.”

  Ash spun around. Colton was there with the sun at his back, his hat pulled low so that his face was left in shadow.

  “Colton.” She cleared her throat. “Good ride today.”

  “Thanks. Ol’ Yeller was sufficiently ornery.”

  “That the bull?”

  “Yep. That was a lucky draw on my part.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The tougher the bull, the higher the score if you make it to eight.”

  Ashley nodded. Being one of five sisters who lived in town meant she really didn’t know all that much about the rules of the rodeo.

  “So, what do I owe you for that overt display of affection by the announcer’s stage?”

  “Wow. Right down to business, huh?” He pushed his hat back, so she could see his face. His eyes sparkled irreverently.

  Good God.

  “It’s a busy weekend.” Ash indicated her camera. “So the quicker we figure it out, the quicker I can get back to work.”

  Colton’s lips twisted. “All right. Show me your hands.”

  “Huh?”

  He reached halfway across, holding his hands palms up. “Let’s see them.”

  Hesitantly, Ash placed her hands in his. She was amazed by how small they looked. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles and then turned them over, palms up.

  “They’re nice. Are you strong?”

  Snatching her hands away, she formed a fist and punched him on the shoulder. It was total instinct, and it took her a moment to realize what she’d done.

  He chuckled. “Nice jab. Okay, let’s go.” He held his hand out as if to shake. “Take my hand.”

  “Why?”

  “Thumb war, darlin’.”

  “What? You mean, if I beat you in a thumb war, we’re square?”

  “No,” he scoffed. “It’s a test. You ready? Set...”

  “What kind of—”

  He didn’t let her finish. Before saying “go,” Colton twisted her hand, captured her thumb with his and pinned it down.

  “You cheated.”

  “So?”

  She squinted up at him, her thumb still trapped beneath his. “One more.”

  “Fine.” He released her thumb but still held her hand in ready position, though his pinky finger tickled the inside of her wrist, distracting her. “Ready...”

  “Go.” She dodged his big thumb with quick movements before managing to get on top of him. “Gotcha!”

  So what if it was only for, like, a millisecond? She dropped his hand before he could slip out and beat her.

  “Best of three,” he said, his voice low, though his dark eyes twinkled dangerously.

  The third time was an all-out battle, not just between hands and thumbs but their whole bodies. Ash tried to block him with her back so he couldn’t see what he was doing, which only resulted in him tripping her—gently—and lowering her to the grass.

  “What the...”

  He settled his weight on top of her, holding her hand above her head, continuing to wrestle with her thumb while she attempted—unsuccessfully—to wrestle him off her body. What she did manage to do, however, was experience the wonderful weight of Colton on top of her: his legs twining between hers, his pelvis flush with hers.

  Wait.

  What was that?

  Was he aroused?

  The idea that Colton Cross had a hard-on because he was wrestling with her had the opposite effect of what she would have thought. There was not one part of her that felt incensed. On the contrary, Ashley fought an instinctual need to grind her pelvis up into him. More, to spread her legs and let him settle that steely part of him right along the seam of her shorts. She was so taken by surprise by her body’s response to his arousal, she forgot completely about what was happening between their hands.

  “That does it.”

  Colton claimed his victory by slowly pushing himself to his feet and extending his hand to help her up.

  Of course she ignored it. Dusting herself off, Ashley steadied her features, determined not to show how much she’d enjoyed the impromptu wrestling match.

  “You going to tell me what that was all about?” she asked, hand propped on her hip, gaze avoiding his.

  “I just needed to make sure you’re strong enough.”

  “Strong enough for what?”

  “You’ll find out. Come on.”

  Colton strode toward the parking lot on the other side of the stockyard, forcing Ashley to run to keep up.

  “Strong enough for what?” she repeated as she raced after him. “And where the hell are we going?” He wasn’t going to make her ride a bull or something, was he?

  No. Maybe a cow. That would be appropriately humiliating.

  Colton didn’t stop until he reached his Dodge Ram 4x4, which Ashley knew was his by the sound of the doors being unlocked by a fob.

  Turning, he waited for her, resting his fists on his hips. “See, after a ride, I’m always sore. I usually go to Lucy down at the clinic for a massage.” Then he pushed his pelvis forward and stretched backwards, groaning as he straightened again. “But I figure I’ll save myself a hundred bucks by letting you give me one instead.”

  “You want me to give you a what?” Ashley sputtered. She looked Colton up and down. Then up and down once more.

  “You heard me. C’mon. Get in.”

  She shook her head. Oh, no. This would not be good. “I can’t. I’ve got to be at work by seven.”

  “Plenty of time. It’s just a massage. That’s all.”

  Sure, but last time she’d given a massage to a man, that wasn’t all. That was only the beginning.

  * * *

  AFTER HIS RIDE, Colton had gone to the trailer to see how well it was set up. He’d gotten the whole massage idea quite by accident. It was when Angus, one of the h
ands who helped out as an outrider, was rubbing down his horse’s legs. It made him realize that he’d forgotten to book an appointment with Lucy. Quickly following that thought was the realization that Ms. Feisty in the short shorts owed him.

  A + B = C.

  Simple.

  Then he’d come back to the trailer to see if it would work for said appointment. All he’d had to do was hook up the electrical outlet and the water hose, and she was good to go. He’d picked up a few groceries and some beer from the corner store down the block from where the trailer was parked on the end of Elm and then had come back to meet Ashley.

  He’d had no intention of making this about anything other than a massage, until they started wrestling.

  Goddamn.

  She may be tiny, but she was strong, and feeling her writhe beneath him with those long, bare legs and that taut tummy? Well, fuck it all, he’d gotten the stiffest Johnson he could remember having in a long time.

  “So, where are we going to do this?” She eyed the couch and the bunk near the front of the trailer.

  There was a slide-out bedroom in the back, and Colton indicated that direction with a swing of his head. “Bedroom in the back.” He’d already made the bed with clean sheets from the cupboard.

  “Do you have any lotion or anything?”

  Shit. He knew he’d forgotten something. Reaching overhead, he opened a cupboard searching for something. There was a bottle of olive oil and some coconut oil. He passed them to her.

  “Do you want to taste like olives or coconut?”

  “And who might be doing the tasting?”

  Her eyes went large before quickly narrowing.

  “Seeing as you’re my girlfriend and all...”

  “Cool it, Colton.”

  “I’m just teasing.” He leaned over her and plucked a blade of grass out of her mussed hair, a reminder of the wrestling match.

  Bam.

  Just like that, blood pounded toward his cock.

  What was wrong with him? It must be the ride. Adrenaline always made him horny. That had to be it.

  He flicked the grass toward the sink and reached for the tub of coconut oil, unscrewed the top and sniffed.

  “Is it still good?”

  He passed it to her so she could do the same. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and took another. When she looked up, there was a guilty expression on her face. What was that about? She passed the tub back to him. “It needs to be heated.”

  With a raised brow, he took it and popped it into the small microwave oven. “How long?”

  “Not too long. Thirty seconds should do it.”

  He set the timer and then grinned at her. “You’ve done this before, I take it?”

  “Of course. I’m not a prude, you know.”

  “Never said you were.”

  Thirty seconds felt like three hours as Ashley avoided his gaze while they waited. She looked at the ceiling, the floor, the table, her fingernails, anywhere but at him. Finally, the bell rang, and he pulled the tub out of the oven and passed it to her. The scent of coconut pervaded the small space, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Ashley’s eyes fluttered closed as she took in another deep breath.

  Interesting.

  He eased past her and headed toward the back of the trailer and the door to the bedroom. It was a decent size for a trailer: queen-size bed with cupboards overhead and a built-in wardrobe in the corner. Dillon had used it while traveling the circuit, and Colton could see how it would be more comfortable than staying in crummy hotel rooms, town after town.

  “So, ah...” Ashley stood behind him, looking apprehensive.

  “You get comfortable, I’ll go change.”

  “Right.”

  “Good.” He moved past her, grazing her bare arms as he went. Sure the room was a decent size—for a trailer—but still close quarters with a woman you barely knew.

  Pausing by the door, he said, “Unless, of course, you care to help.”

  She shot him a cool look. “I’m good, thanks.”

  Colton didn’t realize he was smiling until he got to the tiny bathroom and saw his reflection in the mirror. Scrubbing a hand across his jaw did not remove his grin. Ah, hell. So he enjoyed teasing the woman. It wasn’t a crime to enjoy teasing the person who was using him as a gigolo. He was pretty sure in such situations teasing was mandatory.

  After hanging his hat on the back of the door, Colton stripped out of his shirt and jeans, hesitating for only a second before stepping out of his boxers, too. If this was a legit massage—which it was—then he’d be going in naked, like always.

  Wrapping the only towel in sight around his waist—a threadbare thing—Colton squeezed out of the bathroom and returned to the bedroom. Ashley was sitting primly on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap, the tub of coconut oil open beside the bed.

  Her gaze flicked to his midsection and then up to his face. A tiny muscle twitched beside her mouth. “This is not professional.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her gaze flicked down again.

  Colton glanced at himself.

  Jesus Christ.

  The thin towel did nothing to hide his raging hard-on.

  5

  WHAT THE HELL? This was twice in the span of half an hour that Colton Cross had a ginormous erection. Maybe he was just always erect. Maybe he had the opposite complaint to erectile dysfunction. Erectile hyper function. Was that a thing?

  She’d have to look it up later.

  Whatever it was, Colton did not seem in the least bit embarrassed. Oh, no. He strode right on by, leading with his Willy Nelson, like he was a stud on the lookout for a ripe filly.

  What an ass.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and flopped down on to his back, spread-eagle, his towel coming loose, revealing his hip bone.

  Ash stared. She couldn’t help it. She may have even drooled a little.

  She gave him a dirty look and said, “Flip over,” in the most officious voice she could muster.

  With a groan, Colton rolled on to his stomach, which wasn’t much better because in the process of rolling, his towel got snagged—likely on his woody—and now she had a full-on view of his heinie.

  His muscular, taut, drool-worthy heinie.

  Ash took a slow breath in through her nose and gently let the air out through her mouth. He may be all aroused for no apparent reason, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be professional about all of this. No matter how screwed up “all of this” was.

  She could handle it. Really, she could.

  “Is there anywhere you’d like me to focus?” Ash asked as she crawled up onto the bed beside him, the maneuver feeling not as professional as she would have liked because her eyes were glued to his ass.

  “Pretty much everywhere. Don’t know if you’ve ever tried to hang on to a bucking animal, but it jars everything up pretty good.” He moved his head back and forth. “Neck muscles always get sore, too. Kind of like whiplash.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She moved up closer and then, very tentatively, swung one leg over him so that she was straddling his waist.

  She sat perched above him when she realized the coconut oil was way over on the little shelf beside the bed. Leaning across the expanse of muscles that made up Colton’s back, Ash reached for the tub, her bare tummy coming in contact with his bare hand, sending instant goose bumps racing down the length of her arms.

  “You okay?” he mumbled into the pillow when she finally managed to right herself again.

  “Yep. Fine.” Except she wasn’t, the proof of which was her too-high voice.

  One more calming breath was needed as she dribbled warm oil onto Colton’s back.

  Why did he have to choose coconut oil?

  She l
oved the smell of coconut. It reminded her of a holiday fling she’d had—her one and only holiday fling. It was during spring break a few years ago. A beach resort. His name was Alejandro and he was studying at Berkley, an exchange student from Spain. It wasn’t that Ash hadn’t dated. She’d dated plenty—if a nine-month relationship counted as dating—but Alejandro was everything she dreamed of in a man. Romantic, intelligent, sexy as sin. On many a cold night, she relived those moonlit walks along the beach, the long, slow kisses, the sensual way he spread coconut-scented lotion on her body. How she returned the favor. The way that sensual touch led to delicious sex in an open-air hut with the wind blowing in off the ocean.

  Ahh.

  Colton moaned, then muttered, “You’re really good.”

  “Oh. Um. Thanks.” She should not be thinking sex-laden thoughts while massaging a naked man in his trailer.

  She took one more deep breath to steady herself, except the warm scent of coconut filled her senses, and she sighed, her clit throbbing so badly she wanted nothing more than to lower herself on to Colton’s ass and rock like a cat in heat.

  * * *

  CHRIST. WHO WOULD have guessed the plainest of the Ozark girls would be so good at this?

  Colton immediately chided himself for such an unkind thought. Ashley might be the least pretty of all her sisters, but she certainly wasn’t plain. In fact, now that he thought about it—and lying beneath her while she worked miracles with his muscles gave him ample time to think about her—he had to admit that she had gorgeous legs. They were long in relation to the rest of her. Shapely, too. She might not have big breasts, but they were the right size for her frame, and Colton was willing to bet they had cute, little pink nipples that stood high and erect, even when she was standing upright.

  Her hands were strong and sensual as they worked the knots out of his shoulders and upper back, pressing on the sore spots in a painfully good way and kneading the stiff muscles into relaxation.

  “Oh, right there,” he groaned.

  Her hands felt so damn good, particularly when she ran her thumbs along the muscles that lined his spine.

  “Harder,” he said into the pillow.