Cowboy Blues

by Jamie Craig

  He greeted her with a slow kiss, exploring the sweet curves of her mouth and teasing her tongue. He had been thinking about nothing else for the past two days, and her mouth felt as good as he remembered. And God, did she know how to kiss.

  "Where do you want to go, darlin'?” Spencer asked against her lips.

  She smiled. “I've got a surprise. Trust me?"

  "Of course. Just tell me where you want me."

  She peeled away like doing so was the last thing in the world she wanted, and went around the end of the truck for the passenger side door. “Behind the wheel will do for now. I'll tell you how to get there."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  The box he intended to give her sat on the passenger seat, but she pushed it away without a second thought. He didn't understand why, until he realized he had forgotten to put her name on it.

  He settled behind the wheel and started the engine before nudging the box toward her again. “Here. This is yours."

  Becca glanced at him curiously before looking down at the package nudging her thigh. “Did I leave something in your trailer last year?” Picking it up, she opened the top before he had a chance to answer, and her eyes widened at the same time he heard her gasp.

  He'd seen the camera case in Phoenix and known then he had to get it for her. It was light brown leather, tooled in simple sweeps along the front and top, with her initials “RR” emblazoned across the middle of the lid. Pockets at either end allowed room for various paraphernalia, and the three compartments inside were adjustable, to allow room for any size camera and more than a few lenses.

  She set the box down on the floor in order to rest the case directly on her lap. Her fingertips skimmed over the designs, tracing the whorls and leaves, and when they reached the clasp, she opened it up to peer inside.

  "This is amazing.” The eyes she turned to him shone with delight. “You really got this for me?"

  "Yeah.” Spencer had hoped she'd like it, but now he knew she did, he felt more than a little shy. “I thought you might like it."

  "I love it.” Ducking her head, Becca pulled off her camera and removed the lens in order to rest both carefully inside. “I can't believe you went to so much trouble. Thank you."

  He put the truck in gear and slowly pulled it forward, careful not to hit any of the other vehicles nearby, or the people milling around. “It wasn't any trouble. Besides, you go through more of a hassle for me every time you send me your photos."

  "Right. Like I don't get anything out of that at all."

  Spencer grinned. “What do you get out of tracking me down across the several states so the mail arrives in town when I do?"

  Her answering smile was just as teasing. “You haven't seen the other pictures I got of you last year. I'd say the shot of you standing in the rain without a stitch of clothing on is worth every ounce of trouble."

  "And the pictures I have of you on the bed are worth any trouble I had buying the case for you, so we're even.” Spencer rolled to a stop at the park's exit. “Left or right?"

  "Left,” she said without looking up. “Then turn right at the stop sign. The place we're going is just outside of town."

  Just outside of town sounded like it would have both darkness and solitude. He tried not to speed through the small town—he certainly didn't want to attract the attention of the police patrolling the area or hurt any of the kids on the road—but his foot was a little heavy on the accelerator. He pushed the truck even faster once they cleared the town limits, but they didn't go far before Rebecca directed him to a small white house with a large yard.

  "Is this yours?"

  "Yep. Since last fall.” Grabbing the strap of the case, Becca climbed out and waited for him to come around and join her before leading him up the front path to the porch. “My Granny passed and left it to me. It's not much, but it's mine, free and clear, and it means we have a little more room to knock about than we do in your trailer. Plus, I've got some chocolate cake and cold fried chicken in the fridge if you're tired of rodeo food."

  His mouth started to water at the mention of food. His regular diet bordered on completely horrifying. Onion rings were the closest thing he ever got to a vegetable, and five nights out of seven he ate hamburgers, or cheeseburgers if he wanted to shake things up a bit.

  "I'm sorry to hear about your granny,” he said, as he followed her into the house.

  She reached across and flicked a switch on the wall. Light from a corner lamp illuminated a small living room, but Becca didn't linger, turning off to the left to cut through a dark dining room.

  "You would have liked her. She really knew how to give everybody hell."

  She flipped another switch, this time overhead in the small kitchen, shedding light on the domain of an elderly woman, with appliances twenty years old and faded yellow paper. But it was clean and cheerful, and Spencer leaned against the doorjamb, watching Becca as she went straight to the refrigerator.

  She hesitated with the door open. “I'm sorry, you didn't actually say you wanted to eat anything, did you? I guess I just thought since we were here, I'd get to spoil you a little bit."

  "Hell, while I'm here, I'll let you spoil me a lot.” He crossed the small room and gently pushed the fridge door shut, curling his fingers around hers. “But first, I want a tour of the rest of the house."

  Her eyes twinkled, but she tangled their hands together and let him pull her out of the kitchen. “Well, this is the dining room,” she said, gesturing around them. “I don't use this room much except to get to the kitchen. Granny used to always do Sunday dinners in here, but since it's just me now, it feels too weird."

  "I don't understand why it's just you,” Spencer said, as he guided her out of the dining room and into the hallway. “In fact, I'm always a little worried you're going to drop me a line to let me know you've found a guy smart enough to stick around."

  "Never happen.” At his glance, she shrugged. “Not while I'm living in Oakley, anyway. I don't need someone trapping me here. Someday, I'm getting out, and I don't plan on ever looking back."

  "So I guess I don't have to worry until you decide you're moving on to see the world.” Spencer stopped outside the door at the end of the hall. “What's in here?"

  With a crooked smile, Becca reached past him to turn the knob. “Exactly what you're hoping is in here. And...” She pushed the door open wide enough to cast the light from the hall onto the nightstand, revealing a bottle, a salt shaker, and a bowl of lime wedges. “Something to celebrate me being legal for everything this year."

  "God, I love a girl who brings her own tequila."

  He backed her into the room, kicking the door shut behind him before he found her mouth. It was better than the kiss outside his truck, because he didn't have to worry about anybody seeing them, or interrupting them, or otherwise distracting him from the warm taste of her mouth.

  Becca wound her arms around him, soft breasts flattening against his chest, as she returned the kiss with just as much zeal. He loved that she didn't hold back on anything. Not in life, not in her pictures, not in passion. Without breaking any of the mouth-watering contact, she guided him to the edge of the bed, stopping only when she bumped into the footboard.

  "I got everything we needed for the whole night.” She panted when they broke apart. “I didn't want to miss a single second with you for anything."

  "Good. Good."

  His blood thrummed through his veins, and his cock pushed against his tight jeans. He took just enough time to undo his pants and relieve the pressure before focusing his full attention on Rebecca's clothes. He unbuttoned her shirt like unwrapping a gift, slowly exposing her luscious breasts and creamy skin to his eyes and fingers. She shrugged out of her shirt, pushing her chest forward, and he saw her dark nipples beneath the thin material of her bra. He bent to reach her breasts with his mouth, pulling her hard nipple between his teeth while his hands went to her pants. His mouth tingled for her, hungry for the musky, sweet taste of her skin.

>   Becca tilted her head back, one hand going to his nape to hold him closer, the other working at the front of his shirt. She didn't wait to get it open before slipping her fingers inside, and when her nails scratched over his chest in search of a nipple, Spence hissed and worked faster on her jeans.

  With the zipper out of his way, he decided two could play her little game. He slid his hand inside the denim, fingertips rough along her stomach as he sought out her wet folds. He didn't part them, though. He simply settled on running his middle finger up and down the slit, hinting at what was to come.

  Whimpering, Becca released him, slithering down the length of the bed to increase the distance between them. “You drive me crazy when you do that.” Her hands went to her hips to push her jeans out of the way. “You know what I didn't tell you when I sent you those pictures? How I touch myself in the shower, thinking about the ones I have of you."

  Spencer moaned at the thought of her in the shower, fingers buried in her pussy, drops of water clinging to her nipples and throat, her face twisted with pleasure. He loved watching her when she came because her features were so expressive.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off, tossing them aside before losing his pants. By the time he finished, her pants and shoes were on the floor as well, allowing him a view of her finely arched foot, the long line of her leg, and the curve of her thigh. He gently gripped her ankle and brought her foot up to his mouth, kissing the top before dragging his mouth farther up her leg.

  Becca leaned back on her hands to watch him. The rise and fall of her chest quickened, evidence of her growing desire. The higher he moved, the faster she breathed, each gasp nearly audible by the time he reached the soft skin on the inside of her thigh, just above her knee.

  Slowly, she lifted the other leg and ran her foot down his back. “Do I get new pictures this year?” she whispered. “You've had a whole year of living I need to record."

  He nipped at the skin gently, and then soothed it with the tip of his tongue, circling the marks leisurely. “I guess that depends on how you answer my question. Do I get new pictures this year?"

  "Whatever you want.” She answered without hesitation, without embarrassment. Sometimes, it was hard to believe she was the same girl who'd been so self-conscious taking her shirt off in front of him on the bed of his truck just two years earlier. Smiling, she added, “That doesn't mean you lost the old ones, does it?"

  Spencer moved higher, the tantalizing scent of her arousal growing stronger. He cupped his palm over her mound, pressing against her clit through her damp underwear. “Trust me, if I ever lose them, I'll be writing immediately to ask for new copies."

  Her response caught in her throat when he licked along the edge of her panties, curving along her soft thigh. Becca bent her knee, resting her foot on his shoulder as she spread her legs for him even more, and the fresh wave of her desire made him stop and bite at the tender flesh.

  "You know the only thing that'll make this better?” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “Getting to taste you at the same time."

  Spencer almost protested—he had no desire to leave his position between her thighs. He'd happily spend the entire night right where he was. Until he realized it really would feel better to have her hot, incredible mouth wrapped around his prick while he fucked her with his tongue.

  He stretched out beside her, his head resting on a pillow that smelled of her shampoo and lotion. He had noticed she never wore perfume, but she still smelled of apples and cinnamon.

  The smile she offered was pure delight. Sitting up on her knees, Becca reached around to undo her bra, tossing it into the darkness once freed. Her lush breasts were now there for the taking, but before Spencer reached forward to touch her, she shifted out of his way, wriggling as she took off her panties, too.

  She settled on her hands and knees beside him, with her hip inches from his shoulder. Becca ran her fingers along the length of his cock, dipping into the pool of pre-come that had already collected on his stomach and massaging it into his skin. He expected her to lean over then, but again, she took him by surprise by lifting her hand up to her mouth.

  Her eyes closed as she licked it clean, and a moan escaped her throat. The silvery light filtering through the window made her face and neck shimmer. He wasn't sure when he'd last seen something so beautiful.

  Spencer ran his hand over her hip and down her ass, caressing the curve with his palm. He loved to watch her while she was completely at ease with him. The photos he had were great, but they couldn't compare to being with her or the way her skin twitched when he caressed her.

  "Come on up,” he said hoarsely as he gripped her hip. She didn't need a second invitation to settle over his shoulders, her stomach against his chest, her swollen pussy just inches from his waiting mouth.

  She kept her hips tilted, out of his reach, as her shoulders bent down and her hard nipples brushed over his stomach. Spencer smoothed his hands up the back of her thighs when he felt the first touch. A lick. Wet and firm, from the tip of his cock all the way to his balls.

  "God, Becca.” He felt a hint of cool breath against his damp skin, and then she licked him again, following the same path as before. That alone could have made him drop his head back and close his eyes with bliss, but her succulent flesh was too close to ignore. He dipped his tongue between her lips, lapping her juices.

  Her smooth trail jumped an inch, her small gasp sending fresh breath wafting over his balls. The muscles beneath his palms trembled, but she didn't withdraw, choosing instead to lower her hips farther. Though Spencer used his thumbs to spread her wide, the firm grip of her hand at the base of his cock distracted him, as she tilted it away from his stomach to lick around the head without impediment.

  He tried to mimic her speed and actions, circling her hole as her tongue danced around his head. Even though he only had one night and some of the next morning to enjoy her, he didn't want to rush this. He wanted to take his time to savor the way she tasted and smelled, the way she felt against his tongue and lips. But she made it difficult to keep his good intentions in mind, especially when she closed her mouth around his crown, sucking on the sensitive skin until he felt that heat through his entire body.

  She had done this before, the previous year when they had spent the entire night celebrating in his trailer. But somehow, being in her bed made it better, more intimate. Now when she crawled between her pretty light blue sheets, she would remember this night, this time, and his mouth. That knowledge curled his arms around her hips, pulling her more firmly down against his mouth, and it brought moans to his lips as Becca sank farther down his length.

  Spencer responded by pushing his tongue past her entrance, sinking into her pussy. Her walls were like velvet around his tongue, and her moans reverberated through him. He curled his fingers against her flesh, kneading her softly as he began to thrust his tongue. Her mouth never stopped moving, covering inch by slow, deliberate inch. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt her soft lips against the base, her nose brushing against his balls. She held him like that for an impossibly long time, letting him grow accustomed to her rough tongue, her tight throat, and the hint of teeth brushing against his taut skin.

  Becca slid back up, but when it felt like she planned to pull all the way off, Spencer growled in the back of his throat and dug his fingers into her ass. Her muffled laughter sent ripples down his cock. He half-expected her to look back over her shoulder with some wise comment, blue eyes snapping with humor. He couldn't even blame her.

  Except she didn't. She sank down in a single smooth stroke, burying him inside her yet again.

  They worked out a rhythm between them, hips and mouths and tongues moving in time. He had never really known a girl like Becca. One who knew just how to move, as if by instinct. One who enjoyed using her mouth to drive him out of his mind. One who was worth talking to after every event. Though talking was far from his mind, and he didn't think he would get much more thinking done
. Not if she kept flicking her tongue over the tip of his cock.

  And not if she started squirming against his mouth.

  He always knew when Becca was close. It was just like reading her face. She couldn't hold anything in. He knew from the sounds vibrating through his cock. He knew from the puffs of breath blowing across his balls when she swallowed him down, how they sped up, got hotter, tickling and teasing him as much as her talented tongue did. He knew from the desperate claw of her hands along his thighs, how one would dig into the hard muscle while the other started fondling his sac, caressing the skin behind it as her fingers trembled.

  Spencer thrust his tongue faster, moving his hand between her thighs to seek out her clit. His balls ached, throbbing each time her fingertips skimmed across his sensitive skin. His thumb brushed over her clit, sending a shockwave through her that he felt from his mouth to his groin. Her pulse pounded, echoing his own, and he scratched his thumb over her again.

  A cry strangled in her throat. Becca paused in mid-suck, her lips sealed just below the crown, and her tongue curled around the head, mimicking Spencer's treatment. This was it, Spencer realized. She wouldn't last long. She didn't even trust herself to continue the blow job. The thought of pushing her to the edge, driving her as crazy as she drove him, making her incapable of doing anything but laying there and taking it, prompted him to redouble his efforts.

  His index finger joined his thumb. Just when he thought Becca might be ready to start sliding down his length again, he pinched her clit.

  She tore her mouth off him completely as a long, keening scream filled the room. Her body quaked above his, muscles rippling from the force of her orgasm, and her nails dug into his thighs. Sensation prickled down his legs, but he didn't let it distract him from continuing the onslaught on her pussy. He only eased when her hands pushed feebly at his lower body, her soft cries of, “Don't, no more, I can't take it,” filling him with satisfaction.