by Meg Ripley
“And if you don’t?”
His face hardens. “Then I have to go work on my dad’s dairy farm back in Slocomb.”
“Well… milk is good, right?”
He doesn’t smile. “I hated it, Annabelle. My dad just ran me and my brothers ragged—he didn’t care what we wanted. I was up at dawn and working til sundown. He treats his cows like trash. He treated the horses even worse before he sold ‘em all off.”
“He sold Peanut?”
His eyes darken. “No. Peanut broke her leg, so he shot her instead of taking her to the vet.”
We sit in silence for a few moments. “Well, it sounds to me like you need to relax,” I finally say. I down the rest of my beer. “Do you think I might be able to… help out with that?”
****
Within ten minutes, we are out of the bar and on the way to Jesse’s hotel. We’re kissing before he’s even able to fit his key card into the lock on his door. He blindly gets the door open and we stumble inside.
Jesse pulls off my t-shirt and unhooks my bra with stunning accuracy. He kisses me again with an urgency that hasn’t been there the many other times we’ve kissed these last few weeks. I unbutton his shirt and pull off the white t-shirt underneath so we can be skin-to-skin. I love the feeling of my soft, full breasts pushing up against his rock-hard bare chest.
He pulls back and teases my nipples a little roughly, but not in a bad way. In fact, it’s rough in a very, very good way indeed. He bites them lightly as I feel them turn into stiff peaks in his mouth.
He moves back up to my lips and I push him back toward the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them and his boxers down. He’s almost completely hard already; I take him in my mouth and he moans.
“Oh, Annabelle,” he says and runs his fingers through my hair.
I take him deep in my mouth and look up so I can meet his eyes with my half-lidded gaze. Then I surround his cock with my D-cup breasts, pressing them together, moving them up and down his length.
After a few minutes, he reaches down to pull me on top of him. He guides the head of his engorged cock into my entrance and I moan as I begin to ride him hard, my clit rubbing against his pelvis. Jesse cups my breasts, biting my nipples again and I shudder. He rubs my clit with his other hand and I pick up speed, riding him harder and harder.
Suddenly he rolls me over. “Get on your hands and knees,” he orders.
I quickly obey and he stands at the edge of the bed behind me. After a few seconds, I move my hips back and forth in his direction.
He bends over to whisper in my ear, his cock sliding up and down my drenched folds, but agonizingly not going any further. “What do you want, Annabelle?” he asks.
“I want…” I trail off and push back against his cock again, but he backs away.
“I want to hear you say it,” he says.
“Oh, fuck me,” I say in rush. “Just please fuck me.”
“Is that what you want?” he asks, the tip of his dick teasing me.
“YES!” I scream. “FUCK ME, JESSE!!”
He thrusts his whole length into me and, for a second, my vision goes black. He pumps his dick into me from behind and I bounce up and down on him in the same rhythm. When his fingers go back to my clit, I can barely even stand it. But he keeps going, faster and faster, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. His cock gets even harder and I know he’s about to come. “Annabelle, I love you,” he calls out in a rush as his hot release shoots deep into me.
I come at the same time, my inner walls clamping rhythmically along his length. I lie still on the bed for a moment, letting the last jolts of my orgasm ripple through me.
He comes to lie on the bed and I rest my head on his deeply muscled chest, now covered with beads of sweat. “Has that ever happened to you before?” I ask, my fingers tracing the pronounced V of his pelvic muscles.
“What?” he asks, trying to catch his breath.
“Coming at the same time.”
He thinks for a moment. “No. I don’t think it has.”
“Me neither.” I pause. “So, did you really mean…?”
He rolls over so we’re face to face. “I meant what I said, Annabelle.” He cups the side of my face with his hand. “I’m in love with you.”
“I love you too, Jesse.” We kiss, but soon I feel a dropping feeling in my stomach and pull away.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s just … I love you, and you love me, and that’s wonderful and all. But you’re leaving in four days. You don’t even have a permanent address!”
“Well, I do. My dad’s house, for taxes. But I know what you mean.” He pauses. “Well, what if you came out on the road with me?”
“What? …Could I even do that?”
He nods. “Sure. A lot of guys bring their wives. A buddy of mine even brings his little boy along.”
“I…” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Three weeks ago, we didn’t even know each other. Now I’m considering “going on the road” with him indefinitely?
The word “wives” keeps coming back to mind. “Are you asking me to…?” I ask him.
His brow furrows then he laughs. He has dimples, I realize. I am considering running away with a man whose dimples I didn’t even know about until two seconds ago. “Not necessarily, though we should talk about that. I just know that I love you, and I want to keep spending time with you.”
“I have to think about this,” I say slowly. I touch his cheek. “Thank you for asking me.”
He pulls me to him. “Meeting you, getting to know you—it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time. So, thank you, Annabelle.”
I look at the clock. “You don’t have another event until tomorrow, right?”
“Nope,” he agrees.
We don’t leave the bed until morning.
****
When we get back to the rodeo, Jesse races off toward the arena to avoid being late.
I meet up with Sherry, whose husband and mother have combined babysitting forces at home so I won’t have to watch another event alone. “Aren’t those the same clothes you wore yesterday?” she asks.
“Shut up,” I reply, but can’t keep from smiling. He loves me! a happy little voice inside keeps screaming. He loves me!
We make our way into the stands and take our seats to watch the saddle bronc riding competition. I hate the idea of Jesse falling again. It sounds like his mother’s death hit him pretty hard; I wonder if they were close, unlike he and his father.
His offer to come on the road with him pops up in my brain. “Sherry?” I ask.
“Yeah?”
“When did you know that John was the one?”
She looks thoughtful. “I’m not sure I think there is a one. I think you meet someone, you fall in love, and you commit to a lifetime of working on your relationship.” She looks at me. “Are you falling for the cowboy?”
“I think I already fell,” I confess. A smile creeps onto my face. “He told me that he loves me.”
She squeals as only a best friend can upon learning such news. “And you said it back?”
I nod. “Then he asked me to go on the road with him.”
She wrinkles her nose. “What does that even mean?”
“I’m not sure. I think it means I go with him to rodeos all over the country until … I don’t know.”
“But you hate the rodeo!”
I look around the arena. Just the sight of a cowboy hat used to fill me with contempt, but now I have much more positive associations with it.
“It’s not so bad,” I say. “And I can freelance from anywhere.”
“You’re really considering this, aren’t you?”
“I might be.” I grab her hand. “I’d miss you, though.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’d miss you, too.” She looks down into the arena where Jesse’s due to appear. “Jesse’s good people, though. And he’s crazy about you.”
“You think?” I ask.
She scoffs. “Are you kidding? His whole face lights up when you walk into a room.”
The event begins and we lean forward to watch the cowboys in action. One man falls and has to be helped out of the arena. My stomach lurches as I imagine a similar fate befalling Jesse.
When he rides out, though, Jesse doesn’t look like the same rider as yesterday. Instead he looks more like he did back at the stables: loose, but confident and in control. He looks over in my direction, waving his hat wildly, grinning ear to ear. I jump from my seat, waving and cheering, “You’ve got this, Jesse!”
He rides wonderfully and ends up placing! Sherry and I both give him a standing ovation as he receives his medal. Doing well in this event is nice, but I know it’s the bull-riding championship that really matters. If he doesn’t win money in bull riding, then his offer to come on the road with him will become moot. He’ll be stuck back in Alabama milking cows while his domineering father cracks the whip.
Some “relaxing” time seemed to help him loosen up before this event. Luckily, we’ve got time for a lot more of that before the bull-riding championship begins tomorrow night.
****
It’s the last night of the bull-riding finals, and I’m right in the front row with Sherry and her family. My stomach is full of butterflies. Jesse’s done well so far—I’ve gotten so used to seeing him on horses that it’s strange seeing him atop a big, hulking animal like a bull. But he manages these beasts with seemingly effortless grace. His stiffness has completely left him now.
I like to think I had a little something to do with that.
I still haven’t given him an answer about going out on the road. And he leaves tomorrow morning. I try to put these thoughts out of my mind and focus on the rodeo.
The stands are twice as packed as they’ve been for any other event. All the other events have taken place during the day, while for the past two nights, lights have lit up the arena for the bull-riding championship. Jesse’s explained how bull-riding works but I still need John, Sherry’s husband, to point out which cowboys are doing well.
We watch the third cowboy in a row get bucked off his bull almost as soon as they enter the arena. “Are the bulls in a feistier mood today than yesterday?” I ask.
“Don’t you worry about Jesse,” John says. “Your man is some kind of animal,” he says in an admiring tone. “He may be in line to win this thing.”
I raise my eyebrows. $100,000. That would put any worries about having to go back home to the dairy farm out of Jesse’s mind.
Jesse comes out for his last ride on the bull. At first, he looks a bit off-balance and my heart leaps into my throat. The audience gasps, and then sighs in relief as Jesse rights himself. He’s become a crowd favorite during the last two days of the championship—not that I’m surprised.
From there, Jesse performs magnificently. I thought he was good on a horse, but I can see that bull riding is truly Jesse’s event. I don’t even need to ask John to explain. Jesse’s told me before that the points are out of 100 in bull riding, and that an 80 is a terrific score. Getting above a 90 is nearly unheard of.
Jesse gets a 95.
And when the champion is announced, they call Jesse’s name.
Outside the arena, I run into Jesse’s waiting arms. “You were so good, Jesse,” I tell him. “I’m so proud of you.”
He hugs me back hard. “It was all thanks to you.” He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I just kept thinking if I don’t win this thing, I might not ever get to see you again.” He looks down. “Not that I…”
“Yes,” I say quickly.
“What?”
“Yes, I’ll go with you,” I tell him. “I can do my work from anywhere, and Sherry’s already given me her blessing.”
Jesse’s face splits into that crooked smile I’ve come to love so much. “I love you, Annabelle.”
“I love you, too … Cowboy.”
He pulls off his cowboy hat and settles it on my head. “You’re a cowgirl now.”
My old biases against the rodeo start to rise up in my chest, but they settle back down as I look into Jesse’s star-studded blue eyes. If getting to be with Jesse means being a cowgirl, then sign me up for some spurs and a pistol.
THE END
Falling For The Hot Rodeo Cowboy
Elizabeth Coin has been handed a raw deal. She’s the only black lawyer in town, and she’s tired of being looked over, underestimated, and completely stepped on—so the next time her boss hands her a case that has no chance of getting her promoted, she resolves to start looking for work elsewhere. She has better things to do with her time than to babysit a spoiled rodeo cowboy who is being charged with a drug related offense.
Just when things start to improve, the sky over Elizabeth’s sleepy world comes crashing down around her. Chase, her impossibly gorgeous client, turns out to be far more layered than she expected, and Elizabeth soon finds herself navigating a hurricane of deceit with the one person she never thought she would trust—and discovering a whole new world of passion and promise in the process.
Like it or not, Elizabeth is in for the ride of her life…
Elizabeth stared at the case files in her hand in disbelief. He’s sticking me with the trash again, she thought angrily. Her fingers crinkled the edge of the pages as she turned them, but she couldn’t focus on loosening her grip while she was still breathing the same air as her boss. Condescending prick.
“Of course you’ll be paid handsomely,” Donald was saying in his lazy Tennessee drawl. “The agent has booked you for the duration. Simple drug charge, accusation of using performance enhancers, stripped of his titles, all that.”
“Why do we care if this cowboy is doping?” Elizabeth raised her eyes to Donald’s toadyish face, and he flinched at the sharpness of her tone. “That has nothing to do with us.”
“The drugs in question are an illegal concoction currently being evaluated for classification under Schedule I narcotics.” Donald blinked again. “You know, drugs that have no medical use by law.”
“Like crack?” Elizabeth asked. “He was using something like crack to improve his performance?”
“I am not a chemist,” Donald said impatiently, waving his fat hands in front of him as though the distinction was a simple case of semantics. “I don’t know. What I do know is this will be a very easy case for you, and a nice paycheck to pad this month out. All you have to do is make sure this fella gets scared straight, so to speak, and you’ve got yourself a few car payments for an Audi R8.”
Elizabeth knew her face was starting to harden into a mask of contempt. “With all due respect, I don’t want easy. That’s not why I became a lawyer. Why am I never assigned to a case with an outcome that actually matters?”
“I resent that!” Donald said, and he sounded very mildly scandalized. “I have personally handed you many cases that got your name in the paper.” He fiddled at the buttons on his suit nervously as he spoke, his beady eyes darting around the corridor as though he was afraid of being overheard.
“Those were vanity cases that did nothing to help the community,” Elizabeth countered. She folded her arms, even though she knew her green pantsuit might crease from the action. “I want to make a difference! I don’t want to sit around and look pretty!”
“That’s unfortunate,” Donald said pleasantly. “You do it so well. But I have no doubt that this case is going to surprise you with its depth. I think Mr. Brighton is going to bring a lot of attention to our little town, and then you’ll be moving on in no time.”
He didn’t give her any time to respond to his last remark; it was probably for the best, since nothing that came to mind would have done Elizabeth’s career any good. She uncrossed her arms and looked down to see her hands shaking with rage, had to close her eyes and take three deep breaths in a row before they slowed their trembling. I have to get out of this job, she mused. I’m not going to live to see thirty five this way. As she watched Donald Dougla
ss’ wide body disappear around the corner, she wondered how someone so full of corruption and laziness could possibly ascend to the position of District Attorney; then again, most of her co-workers weren’t any better. She remembered clearly being shunned for her first two weeks on the job, until Donald stepped in to make everyone stop their open hostility toward her.
Though the town was slowly filling up with hipsters and their ilk to replace the dwindling baby boomer population, it was at a grueling place that simply wasn’t fast enough for her. The weight of being the only black lawyer in Claiborne, Tennessee was starting to crush her spirit, and it wasn’t going to get better unless she tried to do something about it.
Maybe I can check some of the ads from the papers near the bigger cities, Elizabeth thought as she made her way through the courthouse. I can’t stay here much longer, not if I want to have my own practice one day. It had been three years, but the constantly polished floors of her three story court building were finally starting to look blackened with the slime that crawled through. Donald himself had supervised cases that saw drug barons walk away without so much as a slap on the wrist. It was more than just tiresome now, and it had been implied that she would lose more than her good reputation for speaking up; the words “replaceable” had been thrown around more than once. She’d made some connections between law school and the present, so it should be easier than it was before to find a position. She would just have to consider moving, maybe even out of state.
As Elizabeth entered the main hall to exit the building, something caught her eye at the edge of her vision. She turned her head to the right, and the man that had been staring at her turned around abruptly and walked in the other direction. She froze, fear flooding her body as she tried to identify the squat man in the brown suit that no one else was acknowledging as he fled deeper into the courthouse. He looked over his shoulder once more as he entered an elevator, and the bright blue eyes called a name from the back of her mind immediately: Dale Cunnings, the Mayor’s aide. Disgusting creep. Mayor Hare had requested her help with an anti-drug crusade two weeks before, and when she’d refused, Dale tried to win her over with his masculine charm. Unfortunately for Dale, Elizabeth knew how to spot a sleaze ball on sight, and she brutally rebuffed him until she threatened him with a restraining order. She hadn’t been serious, but it had worked—or so she thought. If Dale was following her again, maybe she really would need to get that restraining order. She smiled when she thought of his potential reaction to the paperwork, and it lifted her spirits significantly.