In Love With A Cowboy (BWWM Romance)

by BWWM Crew

  As if he read my mind he stopped and undid his buckle. I helped him with the button and the zipper of his jeans and he kicked them off. He pulled down his jocks, and his cock sprung free in all its glory. It was long and hard, curving upward with a glistening drop at the tip. He curled his fingers around the hem of my pants, and paused to look at me, as if he was asking a question. I nodded and he pulled down my pants and the lace g-string as well. I lay in front of him, naked in a pool of moonlight that flowed in through the crack in the curtains. He looked at me like I was a piece of art.

  “What?” I whispered, scared to break the spell. When his eyes met mine again he smiled and shook his head. He crawled back on top of me, covering one side of my body with his. His skin was smooth against mine, smooth and warm. And perfect. His hand traced the curves of my body where it rose and fell. On my hip he slid to the back to grab my ass. Then he moved back to my hip and then followed the V that led to my womanhood. He pushed two fingers into the slit, and found my clit.

  My body spasmed and I moaned.

  “You’re so wet,” he said, his fingers dipping into me before he moved back to my clit. I couldn’t answer him. He wasn’t letting me. With his fingers he stroked circles around and over my clit, coaxing the heat between my legs into a flame. I curled against his hand, letting the feeling take over. It was warm and invasive, and intoxicating. I felt light-headed and I gasped for breath. His face was right by mine, his eyes drinking in the sight of me as he built me closer and closer to orgasm. My body shuddered on the bed, a ripple of ecstasy flowing through me. He buried his head in my neck and took some skin between his teeth, nibbling gently.

  And then he stopped. I let out a low moan of complaint and he chuckled. It was a warm sound, stroking my skin like a caress. He shifted, leaning on his elbows, his hips on top of mine. I opened my legs for him, and he pushed his cock against my entrance. He was rock hard and big. I could feel how I was stretching and he had hardly done anything at all. He looked into my eyes when he pushed into me. I moaned with the movement, and he drew it out of me all the way in.

  My body stretched to accommodate him, and he filled me up. He waited two seconds for me to adjust to his size, never taking his eyes off me, and then he moved again. He pushed in and pulled out, and the friction kindled the flame into a fire. He built up a rhythm, rocking his hips against mine and building a new orgasm, different from the other one. This time it was deep and intense, starting from the very core of who I was. And it was building bigger and bigger as he pushed in and out of me, faster and faster. My body felt numb under his, and I let him do what he needed to do.

  His hands were on either side of my face and he lowered his lips to mine.

  I felt him grow inside of me, getting bigger and harder. He broke out in a sweat, and his skin was slick on mine as we moved together. A shudder rippled through his body against me. His face changed, became distant and beautiful, and then he shook in a spasm against me and exploded inside of me. I felt him pumping against my inner walls, releasing hot liquid, coating me. I wanted him to claim every inch of me. Again and again.

  I moaned with him, his orgasm fueling my own. When he came down from his high he collapsed on top of me, breathing hard in my ear. His body was hot on mine, and wet with sweat. He groaned and rolled off me, laying on his back breathing hard for a moment before he looked at me.

  “You’re amazing,” he said. I smiled and he gathered me in his arms.

  “You’re not too bad yourself,” I said. He kissed me on my head. I hadn’t reached orgasm, but this was plenty. I didn’t need a release, not right now, if I had someone like Tanner to wrap me in his arms. I didn’t want to lose control just yet. One step at a time.

  He pulled the covers over me.

  “I can’t have Keisha find you in my bed tomorrow morning,” I said. I didn’t want him to get offended, but how was I going to explain to a six year old why I was in bed with someone that wasn’t her daddy? It wasn’t something she could wrap her mind around yet. And I didn’t have a very good relationship with Dean to begin with.

  “I’ll be out early,” Tanner said in a sleepy voice.

  “Why are you not mad?” I asked.

  He turned his head and looked at me. “Because I get it. You have priorities, and Keisha comes first. Besides, I don’t mind sharing if it means I can have at least some of you. Better than nothing at all.”

  He kissed me, and I felt warmth spread through my body.

  “Close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when I’m going.”

  I did.

  Chapter 6 - Tanner

  Jada was amazing. There wasn’t one part of her that I didn’t like from the start, and the more time I spent with her the more I felt that way about her. She was absolutely beautiful inside and out.

  And Keisha was the spitting image of Jada. Her skin was lighter but she was just as beautiful and sweet as her mother. She was kind and gentle and warm, just like Jada. And bright. I hadn’t expected a six-year-old to be that conversational.

  I’d crept out of the bedroom at four in the morning, when the hint of dawn still hung in the air like a question. The night had only been starting to change from the inky black to a silvering gray, and the birds had called questions into the night. I’d checked on Keisha on the way out, but she was fine, and I could relax. Jada would have a better day.

  I really liked her. It wasn’t just about the sex, which was pretty damn awesome. It was because when I spent time with her, with the two of them, I felt more at home than I had in a long time.

  I swung by the law offices, but they were closed. Of course. Why would anyone be working overtime in Westham? This wasn’t Houston where lawyers had six-day weeks. I sighed and turned away from the closed door. What was I going to do on a Saturday in a town that I hated with a lot of people I didn’t know?

  I climbed into my car and drove down the road. I slowed down in front of Casa Bonita, thinking for two seconds that I should drop in and say hello, but I decided against it and sped up again. I wasn’t going to make a nuisance of myself. Just because I wanted to see her again in a non-sexual way didn’t mean I had to force myself on her every second of the day. I wanted to look cool, suave, sexy. I chuckled at the idea. I was wearing jeans and a collared shirt, in green, that the salesman had said suited my skin tone. Whatever that meant. I wore classic cowboy boots, and felt like my old self again. How I was before Houston.

  I drove the narrow bumpy road out of town that looped behind the supermarket and then out towards the hills that lay in the horizon. The road was hardly used anymore, and I understood why. There weren’t a lot of people that wanted to revisit the ruins of the old town that was Cosmos Valley.

  Halfway to the Valley I saw stables, a big sign that told me horses were for rent. Tourist attraction, but I was drawn to it. I pulled in and a big round woman with smile creases around her mouth stepped into the morning air.

  “How can I help you?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if I could rent a horse?” I said. She eyed my car like it was strange that I asked for an alternative mode of transportation.

  “You ride?” she asked. I nodded.

  The horse she offered me was midnight black with big liquid eyes. It breathed hot breath against my hand and I scratched its neck before I got on. The western saddle felt comfortable under me. I brought the reins over its neck and it turned. The woman had been watching and she raised her eyebrows. Maybe she understood now that I could ride.

  I left the yard on the horse, and walked down the road toward Cosmos Valley. It was right on horseback. The way it used to be when I was younger.

  When I arrived in the part of town where I grew up it was all but a ghost town. It consisted mainly of forgotten farmland, once cultivated by farm hands that were making a living, but since then the farmers had all moved to better patches of ground around the newer Westham instead. I followed a dusty path up to an old farmhouse. It had been empty for almost ten years now, and it
was starting to show decay. The front door’s brown paint was flaking and the windows were dusty where they weren’t broken.

  In the front yard, where I’d spent so many of my childhood days, the grass was an ugly brown now, and the sad stump of the oak tree stood alone in the middle of it. The wood was ragged and spiky toward the one side.

  I slid off the horse and let it graze on the barely-there grass. It didn’t seem to mind. I leaned against it and sighed.

  My dad had gotten drunk one night, worse than the other nights. He’d had so much to drink none of us had understood how he could still be standing upright. He’d hit my mother, and Dean had grabbed his hand, knocking him to the ground. We were seventeen, both old enough and big enough to take him on.

  But there was something psychologically scary about a drunk that dominated you your whole life. When my dad staggered to his feet again after that, we knew we had to run. We’d fled, and both of us had climbed the old oak tree. My dad wouldn’t have been able to get into it in his state, no matter how steady he looked on his legs.

  We’d climbed all the way to the top where the plank had been fastened. It had been our version of a tree house and we’d spend nights up there in the summer.

  Dad had known just as well as we had that he couldn’t get up there, but that hadn’t stopped him. A drunk person was bat shit crazy, and he’d gotten it in his head we had to be punished. So he found the axe and started chopping it down. We’d stayed up there as long as we could, but we had to get down at some point if we wanted to survive the fall.

  By the time we’d gotten down, my dad had been exhausted and the alcohol had finally knocked him out. But he’d destroyed our tree, and the happy memories of my childhood with it.

  I walked around the old farm house to the back door. We’d left the farm after that. Mom hadn’t left him, but Dean and I had moved to an apartment in town. We’d never looked back. When they’d died in a car crash , a drunk driver had hit them in an ironic twist. I felt so bad for my mother, but what could I do? For my father I didn't feel anything.

  It was terrible. I was terrible for feeling that way. But that was how things were. Dean and I were finally rid of a drunken tyrant. And my mom was finally free of the life she’d been forced to live with my dad who she refused to leave.

  I shouldn’t have come to Cosmos Valley. I shouldn’t have come to Westham. I should have stayed in Houston where I could forget about my past and pretend like I didn’t have a dead beat father and a brother that was headed down the same road.

  But he hadn’t headed down the same road. He’d had Jada for a little while, and she was wonderful. I could give her the kind of life Dean never would be able to. She deserved that.

  I walked back to the horse and got on. Miles of empty fields lay behind the farmhouse, and it called to me. My horse felt it too, and he strained against me until I let him loose. He flew across the grass. The wind whipped around my face, numbing my skin and taking my breath away. If I could go fast enough, maybe I could outrun my past. Forget where I’d come from. But the horse slowed down, tired, and real life insisted I return.

  The horse was a sweaty mess when I rode it back and the owner made a face, but I shrugged and got into my car. I drove to the sheriff’s office, not really feeling much better at all.

  ***

  “Morning,” I said to the young man that sat behind the desk filing paperwork. He wore the brown law enforcement uniform Dean also wore, but he didn’t have the sheriff’s star and he looked like he was scared of his own shadow.

  “I’m looking for Sheriff Dean,” I said.

  “Today’s his day off. You’ll find him at home most likely. Or over at Jada’s.”

  He jerked his thumb in the general direction of her café and I felt jealous and angry right away. I didn’t know what my face showed, but his face was guarded. I relaxed my hands that had clenched into fists involuntarily.

  “Thanks,” I grunted and stomped out of the office. Dean’s place was just around the corner. I walked up the front door and hammered against it with a fist. When I stopped, the silence of the morning sung around me. I hammered again, feeling more and more upset with every second that passed without an answer.

  I was just about to turn away when the door finally opened and Dean stood in front of me looking like hell. He wore boxers and a shirt with holes in it, and he squinted at me through narrow slits.

  “Tanner? What time is it?”

  I looked at my wristwatch.

  “Nine,” I said flatly and pushed past him into the house. It was a mess with takeout containers lying on the floor and all over the kitchen table. Dishes were stacked high in the sink and it smelled like old socks. I didn’t care what was going on in his house. He wasn’t at Jada’s and that was all that mattered at this point. I couldn’t even try to imagine what it would be like with my dead beat brother sitting at her table.

  “Put some coffee on, will you?” Dean mumbled and slumped into a chair, cradling his head like it was going to break. I got up and filled the kettle. I fiddled with the plug a couple of times before I realized I had to hold the switch down all the time for the kettle to actually boil.

  “Don’t you earn enough to get a new one?” I asked with my finger on the switch until the water boiled.

  “I usually just go out and buy the coffee,” he said. “Casa Bonita is just down the road and usually open when I get up.”

  That got me back onto the thought of Jada.

  “That’s a good woman,” I said softly. “What happened between you two?”

  Dean grunted. “You know, what always happens with women. They’re just out to take everything away from you and tell you how to live. Before you know it she’s telling you what you’re allowed to drink and what you can’t drink.”

  The kettle boiled and I could take my finger off the switch. I found two mismatching mugs that were still clean and scraped solidified instant coffee from the bottom of the tin. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t really a bad thing to ask him to stop drinking. Maybe if I’d been around I would have asked him the same. But nine years after becoming adults was too late for that.

  “Were you still dating by the time you found out about Keisha?”

  When I mentioned her name he looked up at me, glaring from underneath a frown.

  “The waitress mentioned her when you left the café,” I added in case he was wondering why I was talking about his daughter like I knew her. After today, if I managed to say what I wanted to say, maybe he would understand that I did know her.

  “She got pregnant after we were together for two years,” Dean said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes again. “She was the one that broke it off with me.” He sounded emotional for two seconds before he grunted. “Well, she did me a favor,” he added.

  I took a deep breath.

  “She’s a good woman,” I said again. I put the cup in front of Dean and he took a sip, making a face.

  “You still make really crap coffee, you know that?”

  “I also go out to buy mine,” I said, shrugging.

  “Why are you here?” Dean asked like he only realized I was there now. “You haven’t really made an effort to have anything to do with this place in a decade. And now suddenly I’m seeing you every day?”

  I sat down opposite him, and stirred my coffee. I didn’t want to make eye contact with him. I wasn’t sure how to start.

  “Well, to be honest, I’m starting to like it here.”

  “Place growing on you, huh? You didn’t say that when you ran away.”

  “I didn’t run away,” I said. “You know that.”

  “No, you just got sick of the people,” Dean said bitterly. I knew he meant himself, but I used the opportunity.

  “Well, there are different people here now. It’s one of the reasons I want to stay.”

  Dean looked at me, narrowing his eyes.

  “Yeah? Which people?”

  I took a deep breath. Now or never, right? That was how m
y life worked.

  “I’ve been spending some time with Jada,” I said. Dean looked at me and grinned like I was joking. Odd sense of humor if I was. When I didn’t smile too, laugh, slap my knee, tell him I was joking, his smile drained out of his face and his watery blue eyes turned a shade brighter.

  Rage was one way to kill a hangover.

  “And when did you spend this much time with her?” Dean asked with a low voice.

  “Now and then. We ran into each other a couple of times.”

  “And you’re telling me this because you want to ask if you can date her?” His voice had turned dangerous, but to be honest I didn’t really fear him the way most people did. I’d seen worse, dad had been a heck of a lot scarier than he was. And I wasn’t intimidated by his badge, either. To me he would always be the idiot of a bigger brother that had been stupid enough to stay behind in the wake of destruction my parents had left behind.