Cowboy Blues
Page 7
Max spit into the dust, rolling the tobacco around in his cheek. “You know where to find me if you need me."
Rebecca watched him amble off for only a moment before turning her attention back to the cowboys streaming out of the arena. There might be more than a few people around town who'd like her to stay a little girl forever, but Max treated her with respect. She was glad Spence was in contact with him. Anybody else might have downplayed her abilities or discouraged Spencer's attention.
"I'm beginning to think you're my good luck charm,” Spencer said from behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist before she turned around, pulling her against his hard chest. “What are the chances of you running away from home to join the rodeo?"
Tilting her head back, she met his laughing brown eyes and melted right on the spot. No matter what he might claim, her photos never did him justice. She might know every twinkle in every picture, but seeing him up close and in hard, delectable person made her work look like a child's scribbles.
"Who'd be around to turn you into a local legend then?” She folded her arm over his, a shiver going through her at the hard feel of his hand against her fingertips. “I take that responsibility very seriously, you know."
"Local? I'm not stopping until I'm a national legend. Paul Revere, Johnny Appleseed, and me.” He leaned forward and brushed his mouth across hers, a mere hint of the things to hopefully come later. “How are you living up to that responsibility?"
"Not too bad, if I do say so myself. I got some great shots tonight."
"Can't wait to see them. You got any plans for tonight I should know about?"
"On your only night in town? Never."
"Then let's get something to eat, because I'm going to starve.” He released her, but the break of contact was only temporary. As soon as she turned around, he put a hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the concession stands. His fingers were hot through her shirt, and she wished he was touching her bare skin, wished his rough fingers were gliding down her back. “I wasn't exactly kidding earlier, though. It feels like when you're watching, I can ride any bull they put me on."
A pleased flush crept up her neck. “You've been doing great everywhere, though. Look at what you did with Lights Out in Missoula. People still don't know how you stayed on him."
"Too bad you didn't see my ride. You know what you should do? Come to Vegas this December. I aim to be in the finals."
"Vegas?” The invitation took her by surprise. She'd daydreamed more than once what it might be like to see Spence outside of the Fourth of July rodeo, but she knew they were only fantasies. Until she found a way out of town for good, she would have to settle for one night of fun with him and be grateful for it. Besides, she wasn't so naive not to know why he might want her around. He'd said it himself. She was a good luck charm, and cowboys were nothing if not superstitious.
"My dad usually lets Lonnie go with one of his other reporters, but maybe I can work on him to let me go instead.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “When you make the finals, of course."
"If I have more nights like this I will, easy.” His brow furrowed beneath the rim of his hat. “Of course, that's what I thought last year, and I missed it by four points. One bad night in Cheyenne was all it took."
They came to a stop at the end of the line outside the concession stand. The smell of hamburgers and popcorn made her mouth water. Almost as much as looking at Spence did.
"You're so far ahead of the others right now in points, it's not even funny. You'd have to mess up big time not to make it this year."
"I'm in the Zone. But one bad night could ruin that.” For a moment he seemed strangely subdued—far more serious than she was accustomed to. But it only lasted for a second. She barely had a chance to register it before his grin returned and his eyes twinkled. “Still, if I were you, I'd clear your schedule in December.” The line shuffled forward, and they moved with it. “Do you want to take dinner back to my trailer? Or we could drive up to the lake again, if you want."
Rebecca glanced up at the cloudy sky. “Considering how cold you thought the water was last year when it was hot?” She grinned. “I vote for trailer. And I promise not to take advantage of you with body shots this time."
"If I've done my math right, you're not twenty-one yet anyway. As far as you're concerned, I don't even have tequila in my trailer."
She laughed. “No, of course you don't.” On a whim, she leaned in, her mouth hovering at his ear. “But next year, all bets are off."
Spence turned his head quickly and pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue teased the corner of her lips, but just as she parted them to allow him to deepen the caress, Spencer lifted his head. “I'll be sure to have enough for a real party then."
Rebecca barely heard him order. Though she did her share of dating when the rodeo wasn't in town, none of those boys even compared to Spence. She knew the whole cowboy allure was part of it. Cowboys were dangerous and forbidden and, like Spencer, sexy as sin. And he wanted her and not one of the skinny minnies who used to make her feel like a lumbering ox, clodding through the school hallways.
Spencer had a way of making her feel like there was nobody else in the world but her. He was funny and sweet, and he thought she had talent. She would have crushed on him for that alone.
"You know what we should do?” she said as they made their way back to his trailer. “Get some shots of you around the rodeo itself. Kind of a backstage thing. I don't know how good they'd turn out, but maybe you can use ‘em if you need something more casual for promo."
"Sure,” Spencer said as he unwrapped his hamburger. “Do you want to go back to the arena and the chutes before they turn off all the lights?"
"Yeah.” Now that he'd mentioned the possibility, Rebecca liked it more and more. “Know what would be nice? A shot of you standing alone in the arena, looking up at the empty bleachers."
Spencer made his hamburger disappear in two bites. “I think it's more interesting when I'm riding, but I'll take your word for it."
They turned away from rows of trucks and campers, making their way back to the arena. All of the floodlights were still on, but only a few spectators still lingered in the stands. Most of the people who remained were volunteers cleaning up the trash, volunteers packing up the concessions, and cowboys signing autographs and flirting with pretty girls.
"Tell me where you want me."
Circling slowly, Rebecca looked for the best backdrop for her shot. Posed photographs were a first for them. All the photos she'd taken of Spence so far had been candid shots. She had no idea if a staged picture would even turn out right, but damned if she wasn't going to try with everything she had.
"Here.” Grabbing his hand, she dragged him several yards away from the gate, and then grasped his shoulders to angle him in the direction she wanted. She stood back and cocked her head, assessing whether or not the shadows would hide all the best bits. “Yeah. That's going to look great."
He stood patiently while she referred to the eyepiece of her camera, checking and double-checking the frame. “Now you're making me feel all shy. I think that's a first for me."
"Trust me.” She crouched down some in order to get a better angle upward. “You've got nothing to feel shy about.” Before he moved, she took the shot, swallowing her excitement at catching his half-smile. “Do you ever come out before a show and just look around?"
"Depends. If I've never been to an arena before, I do. Or if I'm making sure a certain pretty girl is in the crowd like she promised she'd be. You want me to pretend I'm doing that now?"
"Yeah. Just pretend I'm not here."
Spencer snorted. “You make it sound like it'll be easy."
He moved along the perimeter of the arena, his heels sinking into the combination of soft dirt, hay, sawdust, and manure. He turned toward the chutes first, strolling past each numbered door, pausing occasionally to check inside the compact space.
Rebecca waited until he'd
walked some first, giving him time to forget just what it was they were doing, for the tension in his shoulders to relax. She took her first picture when he tilted his hat back to wipe at his forehead, the second from behind when he looked down the length of the arena. Shooting from the side gave her the best angles, but in one he simply stopped and looked up into the stands. She took it straight on from the back. The floodlights turned him into a silhouette. If there was a finer shaped man in this rodeo, she'd eat her camera strap.
"When do I get to take a picture of you?” Spencer asked as he circled back to face her once again.
Rebecca laughed. “Oh, I don't get on the other side of the lens. I like it just fine where I am, thank you very much."
"Is it fair that you have all these photos of me and I've got nothing of you?"
"Maybe not, but I'm the one with the camera."
Spencer grinned. “For now. You're not going to have that thing in your hand all night."
"Oh?” Matching his smile, she started to back up toward the gate. “Who says?"
He quickened his pace slightly. “I think it won't be long until you forget you even own a camera."
"Somebody's awfully sure of himself."
"Somebody's got precedent to fall back on. Or am I wrong?"
The gate nudged her ass, and Rebecca slipped outside. “I'll send you all the photos I took this time."
"I'd still rather have a picture of you. You're cuter than I am."
"Ha! That's a matter of opinion. You're pretty darn cute yourself."
"I think most objective people would agree with my opinion.” His long legs began to close the distance between them, and he held out his hand. “Just one picture."
They stepped clear of the stands, but she only saw Spencer and his laughing brown eyes. “You don't strike me as the master of restraint. I give you one, then you'll want two."
"Maybe,” Spencer conceded. “But no more than three. Three will be the absolute maximum, I promise."
"Until you want four."
So caught up in the game, she shrieked out loud when he suddenly lunged for her, turning on her heel and bolting for anywhere but there. Laughter bubbled from her throat, and she hugged her camera close to her stomach to keep it from bouncing against her. She didn't have an aim in sight. She just ran. It felt glorious and free and wonderful, and when she risked a glance back over her shoulder, she saw Spencer taking chase, a wide grin splitting his features.
There wasn't even a flash of lightning or a rumble of thunder to warn her of the imminent rain. One moment, she was dry and running toward the trailers, and the next, she couldn't see more than a few feet in front of her face and water plastered her hair to the top of her head. The sudden storm didn't slow her, but it forced her to choose a destination. A loud whoop from Spencer let her know he was closing in on her heels, and she half-screamed in response as she darted for his truck, cold water running into her eyes and down her neck.
He grabbed her six feet from the door, long hands circling her waist to yank her back into his chest. Rebecca gasped against the sudden hardness of his body, but the moment she leaned into it, rain splattered along her camera.
"If either of us wants any pictures, we'll get inside now.” She laughed, cradling the camera into her chest.
Spencer walked toward the trailer without releasing her, and reached up with his free hand to yank the door open. She didn't need any encouragement from him to step inside, and he followed, slamming the door behind him.
"This trailer may not be much to look at, or have a lot of room, or smell too great, but it'll keep the rain out."
Rebecca pushed back the wet hair dripping into her eyes. “I like your trailer. It's cozy."
"Cozy is one word for it.” He turned on the light above their heads, casting a soft, golden light over everything. He gripped her hip and pulled her close to him again. “Though you certainly brighten up the place."
Tilting her head, she closed her eyes as he nuzzled her neck, sending an array of gooseflesh rippling under her clothes. “I should dry off my camera before my joke about it being ruined comes true."
"Okay, but I think we should get you out of your wet clothes first. You know, so you don't get sick."
Rebecca twisted away, scooting down the trailer's length for the towel hanging next to the sink. “Uh huh. Like that line ever really works."
It wasn't really possible to escape him, since the length of the trailer couldn't have been more than a few yards. Spencer took advantage of that, looking over her shoulder as she dried it. She felt his mouth near her ear, his breath hot on her chilled skin. “One picture. That's all I want."
She smiled, though she kept herself—somehow—from looking back at him. “All you want? What happened to all those precedents you were so proud of back at the arena?"
"Hmm, you got me. All I want with the camera is one picture of you."
Turning around within the circle of his arms, Rebecca leaned against the edge of the sink. His hat had kept his hair from getting wet, but droplets still clung to his cheeks, making his skin glisten. He looked good enough to eat, and knowing she'd get that very chance made her swallow in anticipation.
"Tell you what, I'll make you a deal. You get one of me, I get one of you. Any way I want."
"That sounds fair to me.” His hands went to the button on her jeans. “But I want to take a picture of you first."
She knocked away his hand. “Hey, who said I was going to be naked, buster?"
"That's the kind of picture I want. And since I'm the photographer..."
Though they had been teasing up to this point, it took only one look at Spencer's face to know he meant what he said. Rebecca flushed. She didn't like getting her picture taken with her clothes on, and certainly never with them off. If her dad found out she posed for nude photos, he'd take all her equipment and have a bonfire, right after he locked her in the basement for the next thirty years.
But Spencer had never once made her feel self-conscious about her size. He liked her curves. He liked her body. And after he left, she would lay in bed at night, thinking about him looking at the pictures she gave him.
"Promise me nobody sees these but you."
"Of course, I promise.” His fingers returned to her jeans, and he popped the button free. The zipper followed. Instead of pushing her pants over her hips, he shifted to the buttons on her shirt. “I think the shot should be of you on the bed."
As he slid the wet shirt from her shoulders, her nipples puckered beneath her bra, hardening to tight points visible even beneath the lace. Spence cupped her left breast, his rough thumb dragging over the tip, and the sound of his callused skin against the delicate fabric sent more shivers down her spine.
"I'm going to get your bed soaked if I keep these jeans on.” She sounded breathless, even to her own ears. She really hoped Spencer didn't see her as so naive.
Slipping away from him, she held out the camera until he took it away from her, then turned her back to him as she pushed her jeans down her legs. She had to kick her shoes off first, but one glance over her shoulder said Spencer more than appreciated the view.
He licked his lips and nodded. “After you."
The bed was at the front of the trailer. It wasn't very big, narrow enough to be more suitable for a single man, but it was surprisingly comfortable. She suspected he had invested in a good mattress, even though he didn't seem to spare a second thought to other creature comforts. She climbed onto the bed, and the trailer floor creaked as he followed her.
"Wait a minute,” he murmured, taking her shoulder. “Let me help you with this.” A moment later, her bra loosened as he unsnapped the back.
Rebecca shrugged it off, leaving her only in her damp underwear. Stretching out on her back, she coiled one arm above and around her head, trying to give him as much room as possible. “How do you want me?"
Spencer's smile was almost wolfish. “What a good question.” He knelt on the foot of the bed and brought the camer
a up to his eye experimentally. “I think I like you just like this."
She itched to reach down and pull the sheet up, at least to cover her stomach, but he snapped a picture before she moved. “Okay,” she said. She pushed herself to a sitting position. “My—"
The camera clicked again.
"Hey!” Laughing, Rebecca dove forward. “It was my turn!"
"You can have your turn later.” Another click. “I'm sorry, but I just I can't help it.” He reached out with his free hand and skimmed his fingers over her tight nipple. The shutter opened and closed just as a fresh wave of goose bumps erupted across her skin.
"Unfair.” But she didn't push him away, even when he cupped the full flesh, caressing the underside as delicately as he'd touched her nipple. “At least do me a favor and get undressed, too. You're getting the bed all wet."
He stood, but he didn't relinquish the camera. It wasn't graceful or quick, but he managed to get his belt unbuckled and his pants unzipped. There were splotches of discolored skin on his legs and ribs—a testament to the falls he had taken and the hooves he hadn't quite dodged. “Don't worry.” Spencer brought the camera back to his eye. “Pretty soon I'm going to want both my hands free."
Rebecca fell back onto the mattress and stretched again. It was impossible to feel self-conscious in front of Spencer, and already her nerves were fading away. “You know what just occurred to me?” She slid her hand down her stomach, toying with the waistband of her panties. “It doesn't matter how many pictures of me you take. You only get what I send to you."
"You'd hold all the pictures hostage?” His hand joined hers, but he didn't try to push the thin material aside. Yet. “Or will it be for ransom?"
"I might. What would you be willing to exchange for them?"
Spencer gently tugged on the waistband, slowly dragging them down the tops of her thighs. “Sexual favors?"
Lifting her hips, she gave him the room to pull them all the way off. “You mean I don't get those anyway?"
She couldn't see his face, but she didn't need to gauge his reaction. He moaned softly, and his cock twitched. “I guess you'll have to name your price."