Cowboy Blues

by Jamie Craig

  "You know, it's a good thing I like you so much.” Rebecca dropped the sponge into the water and sat back on her heels. In a swift motion, she pulled her shirt over her head. “But that's as much as I'm losing. And no touching or I'll put the shirt back on."

  "No touching,” Spencer promised, his hand resting on his lap, but his attention didn't waver from her chest. “For what it's worth, I like you a lot, too."

  Heat rose up her neck. She hid it by bending down to retrieve the sponge floating at the opposite end of the tub. “We do get on good."

  "We do. We always have.” Spencer watched the sponge work across his stomach, suds following in its wake. “So...what if I had asked again this year?"

  She refused to let her reaction show in her washing, though everything inside her went into knots at his question. It was the first time either one of them had mentioned his suggestion that she join him on the circuit. Rebecca had wondered if his earlier request would be the elephant in the house until he left again.

  "I probably would have gone.” It was the truth. If she could've gone the previous year... “Though I would've made you come with me to tell Dad and Lonnie,” she added with a teasing glance in his direction. “You could've seen firsthand how crazy they both are."

  Spencer snorted. “I would have told them. I've seen crazy, before. I'm sure those two have nothing on some of the cowboys I know.” He paused before adding, “Well, I probably would have asked."

  Rebecca paused at the top of his thigh. Though she didn't want to dwell on the what ifs, there was something infinitely satisfying knowing what might have been. It would never happen now, of course. Spencer was lucky just to be alive. But the possibilities made her smile, and she leaned across the side of the tub to brush a kiss across his cheek.

  "We're going to have to find some things to keep you busy,” she said, resuming her sponging again. “Any suggestions?"

  "Yeah. Teaching myself to be left-handed."

  She didn't think it would happen, but if it would keep him occupied, Rebecca supported exercises to strengthen his other hand. “Lonnie's got an old Nintendo I can hook up, if you want. Start with a little hand-eye coordination."

  "I don't need to worry about hand-eye coordination.” He lifted his hand in front of his face, flexing and relaxing his fingers. “I just need to learn how to hold on."

  "What if...” The words choked, but she spit them out anyway. “Don't you think you should start thinking what you're going to do if the doc's right?"

  "About what? My head? I'll wear a helmet, if I have to, but I'm not going to just sit around for the rest of my life and not even try."

  "I'm not saying you don't try. I'm saying, you need to think about what happens if you can't ever ride again. You've got time now. Use it."

  "Use it to do what, exactly? I'm not like you, Rebecca. I don't have all the chances you do."

  "Really? ‘Cause it looks to me like you've got more. I know you've saved some of your money, so that's one step on me you've got. And you've been able to see a lot of places already, so you know you're not stuck here. You can go anywhere you want, do whatever you want. Trick is, figuring out what those things are."

  "The few bucks I have will go toward my doctor bills. Last I checked, they're not running a charity for busted up cowboys. And you're not stuck here, either. You've got a car, you've got some cash from your grandma if you sold this place, you've got experience working for your daddy, and you're smart. I've got a beat up truck, no skills to speak of, no education, no family, and no interest in anything except bulls. So you go ahead and tell me how easy it'll be when you're the one scared to leave your own front door."

  Anger flared inside her. They were the harshest words he'd ever said to her. The only time they had ever talked seriously about her leaving Oakley was the previous summer, and the discussion had been curtailed as soon as it was clear why she wouldn't leave.

  "You know more about bulls and riding and rodeos than anybody else I know.” She shoved the sponge beneath the filmy surface of the water to rinse it out, splashing some onto her arms and chest. “And you're smart, too, even if you didn't finish high school. You think that's going to hold you back? Then get your GED. People do it all the time."

  "Fine. I'll get my GED. Sure. No problem. Then all my problems will be solved, right? You know, if the specialists are right about my shoulder, I won't even be fit to shovel shit.” Spencer closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “This is stupid."

  "I didn't say that.” At least, that wasn't what she'd meant, but seeing him so frustrated made her frustrated, too. “Why won't you try to be at least a little bit positive about this? What's the point of automatically going to the absolute worst possible scenario?"

  "I can imagine other scenarios. The problem is, I just don't believe them right now."

  The rest of her ire faded into a dull roar. It was too soon. What did she expect? Spence had only been out of the hospital for two days, and at least he acknowledged those other scenarios existed. If things were truly unfixable, he wouldn't even be able to do that.

  "Well, we got time.” Rebecca rose and stretched to unhook the shower attachment. “Let's do your hair now. You want passion fruit shampoo or the lavender?"

  Spencer didn't answer immediately, and then he lifted the corner of his mouth. “I thought I told you I didn't want to smell like a girl."

  Rebecca grinned as she turned on the water to test it. “Well, fine, I guess I'll just go with the fuddy duddy fresh breeze stuff I bought for you."

  Spencer's brow furrowed as he caught a glimpse of the bottle. “How did you remember what I usually use?"

  She could have told him the truth. She could pick his scent out after their night at the lake, and had known the first time she opened the bottle it was his favored brand. But that was silly and bordered on too girlish and flighty for her, even if occasionally she indulged in silly and flighty things.

  So she lied. Which was only a half-lie anyway.

  "I saw it in your trailer when we got your things. I just made sure I bought all the same kind of stuff, so you'd feel at home here."

  "Thank you."

  They lapsed into silence as she poured warm water over his hair, wetting it for the shampoo. He sighed as she began to soap his hair, his shoulders slumping slightly. She carefully avoided looking at his erection, but she saw his cock twitch from the corner of her eye—evidence of just how much he enjoyed the way she massaged his scalp. When she began to rinse the shampoo away, his eyes opened again.

  "About more positive scenarios. There is something...a ranch not too far from here, I think. They breed bulls."

  His tone was wary, his gaze careful. Still...it was something. Rebecca restrained herself from bouncing in excitement.

  "Maybe when the sun's not so hard on your eyes, we can take a road trip and check it out."

  "Yeah, maybe we could do that.” Spencer wiped soap and water from his eyes before adding, “Can you help me write something tonight?"

  "Sure.” She reached for the towel to hand it over, though she would have loved drying his hair herself. “What do you need to write?"

  "A letter to my uncle. He's probably heard what happened by now. But I should let him know where I'm at, and I'm mostly okay."

  Smiling softly, Rebecca nodded. “I think that's a great idea."

  And it was. It was also a step in the right direction, one he'd taken without her.

  He'd be fine. She knew it. Maybe the fact that he was likely to take off as soon as possible saddened her a little. But it was better for Spence to be well and happy. Besides, she couldn't blame him for leaving, since Oakley would remind him of what he'd lost. It was what she'd wanted all along.

  And she'd do everything possible to make sure he got it.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER 10

  The Previous Year

  Laughter bounced off the tiled walls as Rebecca planted both of her hands against Spencer's back and pushed
him toward the tub. “I don't care if you think motor oil's sexy. I'm not touching you until you've washed it all off."

  "I wouldn't be covered in oil if you would have just left the car on the side of the road,” Spencer pointed out, grudgingly unbuttoning his cuffs. “We could have walked the rest of the way. Or taken advantage of the backseat."

  "You've seen my backseat, right? And you've seen us.” She stepped around him to turn on the water, twisting the hot handle as far as it would go. “There is no way we'd fit comfortably in the back for nothing."

  "If it meant finally getting my hands on you, I would have found a way.” Spencer shrugged his shirt off and left it in a forgotten heap on the floor. His boots were next, but he seemed more interested in caressing her ass and the back of her thighs than he was in removing the footwear.

  "When we've got a nice comfy bed here, just waiting for us?” Grinning, she slapped away the hand trying to sneak around and touch her breast. “I'm trying to get this going here, so unless you want to be boiled alive, you might want to hold off for two more seconds."

  "Okay. One. Two.” His fingers crept over her nipple again, but one stern look over her shoulder was enough to make him pull away, both hands going to his buckle. A new one, marking another win in his career. “We don't have to wait ‘til we get to the bed now, do we?"

  Her gaze dropped to the long line of his erection. He'd been hard almost since they'd left the rodeo park. When her car had conked out a mile from her house for what seemed like no good reason, Rebecca had been ready to scream in frustration. She'd waited a whole year to see Spence, damn it. She did not need these kind of events conspiring against her.

  "You get in the shower without any more trouble, and we'll see."

  Spencer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom before pushing the jeans to the floor. He flashed it at her and grinned. “I don't plan to give you any more trouble."

  She tried to be stern. Or shocked. Or anything but delightfully surprised. But because this was Spence, and this was her, and this was their only night of the year to revel in each other and she would never spoil it for anything, she failed miserably.

  Laughing, Rebecca waggled a finger at him as she sidestepped to the closet to grab some towels. “You're lucky you're so cute."

  "You know you love it,” Spence said, tearing at the wrapper with his teeth. When she turned around to face him again, he wasn't wearing anything except the condom and a grin.

  "I already told you, not until you're clean.” She threw the towels at him, not surprised when he caught them cleanly. “Get in the tub, buster. I've gotta get my clothes off."

  "I'll be clean by the time you get undressed,” Spencer promised her as he stepped into the tub. “You learn to shower fast when you live in a camp trailer that's older than dirt."

  Shaking her head, Rebecca toed off her shoes while she worked at her jeans. It took only a moment to strip, and another to round up all her clothes and stuff them in the hamper. By the time she climbed in behind Spence, he had his head bent under the spray, lathering up his hair.

  "You need to invest some of those winnings tonight in a newer trailer,” she said, molding over his back. She reached up and threaded her fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp until he groaned. “Sometimes I think you're the most frugal cowboy I've ever known."

  "I spend all my money on gas these days. I can't afford a new trailer. Or much of anything else.” He turned to face her, his hands going to her ass. “But it's not really suitable for company."

  His erection pressed into her stomach, a ready reminder of everything they had been waiting for since first meeting up at his truck. Rebecca smiled and pushed gently on his head, tilting it back under the water in order to rinse out the shampoo.

  "Which makes coming back here all the nicer.” Unable to resist, she leaned in and dragged her tongue along his collarbone. “No way could we fit both of us into your dinky shower at the same time."

  "And the hot water runs out in about five minutes."

  He flexed his fingers, kneading her flesh. She didn't want to take her mouth from his skin, and she moved from his collarbone to his Adam's apple, his pulse point, and the sensitive skin beneath his ear that always made him squirm a little. His hands began to move, caressing her inner thighs.

  "If you turn around, I'll wash your back,” he offered.

  Wash your back would lead to kiss your neck which in turn would lead to other actions on other parts of her body. Sliding her wet hands down his face, down to his chest, she skimmed a breath of a kiss across his mouth before turning in the circle of his arms. His cock nestled against her ass, but rather than do as he'd volunteered, Spence slid his hands up to cup her breasts.

  "You big ol’ fibber.” Rebecca laughed. “Those are not my back."

  "Well, your front needs to be clean, too.” He released her long enough to pour her body wash into his cupped palm and work up a lather. He smoothed soap over her breasts, caressing each of her nipples until they were in hard, aching points. His lips, warm from the water running down his face, started at her neck, like she had expected, nibbling and licking her nape.

  She leaned back against his chest, heedless of her weight. Since the beginning, he'd made her feel feminine and desirable. She never felt self-conscious or less than valuable. Spence accepted her—wanted her—and she could release all those insecurities that plagued her with other guys. There weren't many other men, but she didn't turn into a nun when Spence wasn't around, or pined for his return. But nobody else she dated ever made her feel like he did.

  Spencer ran his hands down her chest to her stomach, and she had to stop herself from laughing and trying to break away when he found the ticklish spot next to her navel. His long fingers dipped between her thighs and skimmed over her lips, teasing her.

  Lifting her leg, Rebecca rested her foot on the side of the tub, toes digging into the plastic curtain when Spence understood the explicit invitation. Shivers ran through her, hotter than anything that might come out of the shower. She dragged her fingers along the back of his sinewy hands, matching his languorous caresses with her own.

  "I start dreaming about you...about this...in June. I swear, June is the longest, most tedious month.” His thumb flicked over her clit with just enough force to make her body hum. “I don't think I can wait anymore."

  "So don't."

  Rebecca reached behind and found his cock, stroking it once carefully before separating enough to angle it downward. Her upper body tilted, one hand reaching forward to brace against the wall. She was tight with anticipation, nerve endings poised for explosion at finally getting him inside. When Spencer took the initiative and gripped his length, she let go, shuddering as he ran the tip back and forth across her opening.

  Both of them sighed when he finally sheathed himself in a smooth, liquid motion.

  "Oh, yeah,” Rebecca breathed. “Just like that."

  Spencer wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her against him tightly as he began to rock his hips. From that angle, he hit her G-spot each time he pushed forward, and his other hand played with her nipple, rolling the hard point between his fingers. She heard his grunts of satisfaction beneath the roar of the hot water as it cascaded around them.

  In spite of their earlier eagerness, neither one of them was in a hurry now. Spence seemed content to maintain his slow strokes, while Rebecca reveled in his touch. She reached back and caressed his hip with her free hand, suddenly aware that the added contact aroused her as much as the fucking. She'd missed him. He might spend June anticipating their annual tryst, but she would spend the next month regretting he had to leave in the first place.

  His muscles were tight, his entire body hard against her softer form. In the back of her mind, she thought of each second, ticking down until the moment when he would climb into his truck and leave her once again. But it was also easy to imagine what would happen if she asked him to stay—even if he could, he'd be miserable. So she had to
push those thoughts out of her mind, ignore the ticking clock, and fully enjoy each inch of contact, his deliberate rhythm, and the caress of lips on her shoulder.

  He made it easy. He made a lot of things easy. Conversation, companionship, the simple joining of their bodies. Rebecca closed her eyes and turned her head to find his mouth, open and hungry for more than his callused fingers. Spencer returned the kiss without hesitation, never breaking his rhythm, never loosening his hold on her, and her head whirled from the throb of it all.

  That's what Spence's visits did for her. For twelve glorious hours, life became crisp. It pulsed. When he was there, Rebecca felt alive.

  Spencer kept their mouths fused together, tongues entwining, hot breath passing between them. When she opened her eyes, water ran down her lashes, but she hated to look away from him. He widened his stance and moved a bit faster, pulling out of her more each time he shifted back and thrusting forward harder. He didn't keep his thumb on her clit, choosing to apply pressure erratically, pressing on the throbbing flesh when it suited him.

  Her foot slipped, forcing Spencer to tighten his hold to keep her from toppling over. It also broke their kiss, but Rebecca scrambled to balance again, hungry for his mouth, his tongue, the fire leaping between them. This time, there was an edge to the slides of her mouth. Her teeth caught at his lower lip, and the moans rose in her throat. She grasped his hip and dug in, urging him to move faster, and when that didn't quite encourage him, she sank her nails into the tight flesh as well.

  "God, Becca...” He pushed her against the wall, abandoning her clit to brace himself with a hand above her head. He moved faster and faster, crying out with each hard thrust forward. Her cries matched his, especially when he shifted his angle just enough to pound into her G-spot and brilliant flashes of color erupted in front of her eyes. The roar she heard in her ears could have been water, but more likely, it was all the blood rushing from her head.

  The cold tile against her hard nipples made her ache, but not any more than his desperate hand clutching at her skin. She shivered as he drove into her body, his tempo no longer smooth and rhythmic but needy and ravenous. Each stroke drove her closer and closer to the edge, but it took hearing her name fall from his lips yet again to propel her over.