Cowboy Blues

by Jamie Craig

  "Nobody ever makes me feel as beautiful as you do.” She edged forward until she straddled his lap, but she didn't sit all the way down. She kept herself on her knees, though it killed her not to feel his arousal pressed against her pussy.

  "That's lucky for me, though I don't know what's wrong with everybody else."

  She pulled his shirt up his body, exposing his flat stomach and ribs. Despite the weeks spent in bed, he still had his athletic physique. One she loved to curl up to every night, and one she wanted to feel flex and move against her body. Working together, they got his shirt off, exposing his chest to her touch.

  Her fingers danced along his shoulder, lingering at the tie of the sling. “I want to take this off,” she murmured. “I want to touch all of you. But you've got to promise you won't push it."

  Spencer inclined his head. “Go ahead. I promise not to get too crazy."

  Sliding her arms around his neck, she worked at the fastening, moaning when Spencer took the new proximity to lick along her hot skin. He nuzzled along the inner curve, his lips searing fresh paths his tongue then followed, and she had to bite her lip in order to concentrate on what she was doing.

  "How am I supposed to do this when you insist on distracting me?"

  "How am I supposed to stop distracting you?” He pressed his palm to her back, holding her against him as he retraced his path with his tongue. “You taste good."

  "And you feel good, not that I've had much of a chance to find out for myself yet."

  Spencer lifted his hips, his rough jeans scraping across tender flesh. “Help me out here."

  The sling came free, and she eased it off his shoulder, grasping his arm by the elbow in order to rest it gently on the couch at his side. Sliding off his lap, she sank to the floor between his legs and smoothed her palms up his thighs. The bulge made her mouth water.

  "You mean like this?” Watching him through her lashes, she leaned forward and ran her teeth along the denim-covered line.

  Spencer lifted his hips again, moaning as she applied more pressure through his jeans. “Not quite like that."

  "I dunno.” She dragged a nail hard over the curve of his sac. “You seem to like it."

  "I'll like it more when I can actually feel your mouth."

  "Oh?” She bit into the tip briefly before finally popping the top button on his jeans. “I guess I did promise to undress you. The least I can do is keep my word."

  "The very least.” Spencer sighed as her fingertips brushed his erection. She pulled the zipper free slowly—slow enough to make him shift his weight impatiently. There was already a small damp spot on his boxers where his pre-come had leaked through.

  Though it took every ounce of control she had, Rebecca slid her hands around his hips, under the tight muscle of his ass. She meant to grab the waistband and pull his jeans down. She really did. But feeling him flex against her palms short-circuited the impulse. Instead, she squeezed, leaning in to suck at the wet spot. The familiar taste did more than make her groan. It made her want more.

  "Becca...” His hand slid down his body and he freed the tiny button on his boxers with his thumb. She pulled the material back, exposing an inch of his smooth shaft. Rebecca's tongue darted out, and she dragged the tip over the skin she could see—an action resulting in tormenting both of them.

  She closed her eyes. Before the accident, she could recall any and every aspect of Spencer's body with only the slightest effort. She had masturbated to the memories more than once. Nothing got her off faster, or harder, or better, than reliving the past few Fourths. For the past month, it had been more difficult. She saw the man himself at every turn. She saw him at his worst, saw him broken and bruised. She had to learn how to live with her memories given flesh, and hold back from pushing for more than he was ready to give.

  Not one of the single nights they'd spent together before the accident compared to this. If they stopped now, Rebecca would still be satisfied, because it was more than she'd expected to get. He was more than she'd expected him to be. She'd meant every word she'd said to him at the fair. Now, she wanted to prove it to him.

  Slowly, she pulled at his jeans, exposing inch after inch of his firm skin. Spencer watched as she sat back, his gaze flickering from her mouth, to her breasts, back to her face again. When both the jeans and his boxers were gone, she dropped a series of kisses along his leg, creeping closer and closer to his balls.

  Spencer ran his fingers along her shoulder until his hand met her neck. As she kissed him, taking the time to savor each bit of skin her mouth touched, he caressed her, his fingers gliding over her body. He sighed her name again when her lips brushed over his sac, and his fingers tangled in her hair.

  Her tongue circled the bristly skin almost delicately, purposefully creating circles too random for him to follow. Skimming her hand up his other leg, she gloried in each quiver of muscle, grateful for his strength, excited that he belonged to her for a little bit longer at least. She gripped his shaft and tilted it away from his body, licking upward to find more of the delicious pre-come that had teased her earlier.

  Spencer arched his back, his eyes squeezing shut. She looked up the length of his body, noting the way his arms flexed and the tendons stood out on his neck each time she let her tongue slide over his crown. He moaned, low, gratifying sounds, until she closed her lips over his cock. Then the moans turned into words. “Becca, please."

  She'd waited too long for this to ignore him. Sitting up higher, her nipples brushing across the coarse hair of his thighs, she angled his cock farther away from his twitching stomach, giving her room to sink down more than a few inches along his shaft.

  "Oh, God...yes. Becca, it's been so long. And I...” His voice was lost in a groan. She watched him from beneath her lashes, and knew she didn't need him to say anything else. The light in his eyes told her what she needed to know. So did the pressure of his hand against her neck, light but firm, and the taste of his pre-come on the back of her tongue.

  Her lips stretched tight around the hot, throbbing shaft, and she sucked back up to the tip, tracing the vein along the underside as she went. Tightening her grip at the base, she held him firm while she went back down, this time a little faster. Nothing compared to the friction of his cock along her mouth. If she wasn't so eager to get him inside her, she'd do this all day and all night, taking him to the brink of orgasm only to slow down to make him wait a little bit longer.

  Spencer cupped the side of her face, his thumb caressing the corner of her mouth as she moved her head. The calluses on his fingers were starting to soften, but his rough skin still made her shiver when it scraped across her sensitive lips.

  Feeling his balls start to harden in her free hand finally prompted Rebecca to pull away. She licked one last time around the tip before sitting back on her heels, meeting his smoky gaze.

  "How about I go grab the condoms from the bedroom?” she asked softly. “Think we can manage here on the couch without hurting your shoulder?"

  "I think we can manage just fine."

  Rebecca pushed herself to her feet and forced herself to turn toward the hallway, though she didn't want to leave Spencer alone. Even for the amount of time it took to snag a condom from the nightstand. By the time she returned, he had removed his boots and kicked off his pants, affording her a nice view of his entire body. Not that she didn't have a nice view whenever she bathed him or helped him dress, but this was different. Now she didn't have to pretend watching him didn't turn her on.

  She stopped at the end of the couch, tilting her head to rake her gaze down his lean length. “I can't decide. Do I get my camera and take pictures of you now when you look this good? Or do I wait until after and take pictures of you sleeping when you get that little smile on your face after sex?"

  "You better wait until after. Because I don't think I can stand waiting much longer."

  "Lucky for you, neither can I."

  She ripped open the foil as she went back to the couch, perching next to h
im as she tossed the packaging aside. Rolling the condom down his length made Spencer groan and sink back into the cushions, but he sat back up again as soon as she settled herself on his lap.

  "We're going to have to get all kinds of creative, figuring out how to do this without hurting your shoulder."

  "I don't think we'll have to get too creative.” His arm snuck around her body. The tip of his cock pressed against her pussy, and her entire body responded to the pressure, aching to finally feel him inside her. “Just hold on tight, darlin'. We'll be fine."

  Coiling her arm around his neck, Rebecca sought his lips as she slowly lowered herself onto his length. His mouth was just as eager as hers, just as hungry. Spence used his hold to urge her even closer, fusing their naked torsos together so each additional inch scraped them even rawer. By the time she felt his thighs quivering beneath her ass, her nipples felt like they were on fire, and she squirmed against him, fighting for even more of the delicious contact.

  Spencer moaned, his tongue probing deeper into her mouth. She needed the friction, needed to move, but for the moment, it felt so good to stretch around his length, to adjust to him again.

  "I cannot go so long without feeling you again,” Spencer said against her lips.

  "You won't have to.” Her fingers caught in the longer strands of hair at his nape, and she held him still as she devoured his mouth once again.

  Spencer lifted his hips from the cushion and relaxed again, which was almost enough to prompt her to start moving. He leaned forward, his lips closing around her nipple, and he pulled the taut skin between his teeth. The sharp points sent a shock from her throat to her clit, which throbbed in response.

  Her legs trembled as she lifted away from his lap, the long line of his cock now slick with her arousal. She had been wet most of the day, ever since they had agreed to their day of fun. Getting to hold his hand as they walked through the midway. Watching him with his admirers as he signed autographs for them. Tasting his kisses every time he got close enough. She couldn't have asked for a better day, and silently, she thanked her dad for canceling. Spence had his issues with Gil, but this day was a gift she didn't know how to repay.

  She set a languid, careful rhythm at first. She wanted to take her time, to feel every inch of him as he pressed into her tight channel. She also didn't want to hurt his shoulder because they got too wrapped up in it all. In spite of his assurances, Rebecca refused to be the one to cause him pain.

  Spencer didn't seem to be in a hurry to change anything. He let her guide the rhythm, his attention focused on her breasts, and then her neck, and then her mouth. From the sounds of it, Spence wasn't in pain at all. Every moan and whimper seemed to be a direct result of extreme satisfaction. Satisfaction that spread through her own body each time she sank down, surrounding him.

  "I have no idea how I went this long without you,” she murmured between kisses.

  "I missed you. I think I cursed your dad's heart at least once a week."

  She smiled against his mouth. “Join the club."

  Nipping at his lower lip, she sucked it into her mouth, tickling it with her tongue before he cupped the back of her head and forced her to deepen the caress. She pretended to struggle a little, spurring Spencer to tighten his grip, his fingers molding over her scalp. By the time she finally broke away, her head swam, and her lungs refused to cooperate.

  They both gasped for air, and then their mouths were fused together once again. She didn't know who initiated the kiss, or if they both just moved together at the same moment, seeking the same thing. Despite her attempt to keep everything slow, he began working against her, moving and pushing until there was no ignoring what he wanted. From what seemed like a great distance, she heard the phone ringing. The high sound barely drilled through the fog in her head, and neither of them even looked up.

  Sweat dripped between her breasts, slicked her bottom, stung her skin every time it slapped against Spencer's. At one point, she felt the faint touch of his other hand at her side, but true to his word, Spence didn't force the contact or do anything to jar his shoulder. He just stroked along her hip each time she buried his cock inside her.

  He gripped the top of her thigh with his other hand, his fingers kneading her flesh for a moment before sliding between her legs, seeking out her pussy. He ran his fingertips up and down her flesh, caressing her lips until she wiggled and moaned in protest. She felt him smile, and then his thumb brushed against her swollen clit.

  Rebecca crashed down onto his length, crying out at the sparks racing through her body. She didn't expect to be brought into harder contact with his rough skin, or for Spence to take advantage of her nearness and caress the sensitive flesh in unrelenting circles, but there it was, and then she felt the familiar rush, the heat washing through her as her orgasm came barreling closer.

  She quickened her pace. No more taking it easy. She needed to come, and then she was damned sure going to come again, because nobody made her feel like Spencer Cole did.

  "Fuck, Becca...don't stop...don't stop, honey..."

  She didn't intend to. She didn't ever want to stop. Each word of encouragement only made the burn intensify, until he crushed his mouth to hers, tongues and teeth clashing. She might have tried to shout against his mouth, but she wasn't sure. She only heard the blood rushing in her ears as the orgasm exploded through her. As she clenched around his shaft, his length jerked against her muscles, and the fingers on her hip tightened, holding her against him.

  The tremors didn't stop until long after she'd sagged against his chest. His mouth was at her ear, his breath just as hot and ragged as hers, and he'd let go of her hip to stroke up and down her spine.

  "Definitely a better idea than hanging around the fair,” she panted.

  "It was one of my better suggestions,” Spencer agreed.

  Becca kissed the line of his jaw, back and forth until he was all she tasted. “I hope you're going to suggest a shower at some point tonight. I think I need to get on my knees and show you just how glad I am we're home now."

  "Mmm, that sounds much better than another sponge bath."

  "And here I thought you liked my sponge baths."

  "I like them fine. I just like showering with you more."

  "And my mouth.” She peeled away, gazing down at him with a smile. “Don't forget my mouth."

  "I'd never forget your mouth.” He traced her full bottom lip with his thumb. “I love your mouth."

  Emotion swelled through Rebecca, and she ducked her head, kissing him again before he caught it in her eyes.

  Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe she wasn't lost after all.

  But finally finding him might be even scarier.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  CHAPTER 15

  The child running from one end of the waiting room to the other did not help Spencer's headache. Especially since she literally shouted with every step. He couldn't be too annoyed with the girl, though. If it were acceptable for him to run around the small space and scream at the top of his lungs, he would probably do it. He thought about making his way down the hospital's long corridor to the Starbucks, but he didn't feel like walking. Even for something sweet and bad for him. He wished Becca was there. She'd get him something full of caffeine. And she'd hold his hand and reassure him everything was fine—he was going to be fine.

  Rebecca had dropped him at the University hospital early that morning, promising she would return by the time he finished with his tests and consultation. If he had asked her to stay with him, she would have abandoned her errands and followed him into the hospital, he was sure of it. But he wasn't a child, and he didn't need her hovering over his shoulder while they X-rayed, scanned, prodded, and poked his body. He still wanted her company.

  His stomach rumbled, a persistent reminder that he had barely touched his breakfast and hadn't made any time to go to lunch. It had seemed like such a good idea to schedule both consultations with a surgeon and a neurologist for the same day, but Spenc
er now knew the error of his ways. His eyes were gritty. His temples throbbed. Why didn't anybody try to keep that damned kid under control? Why didn't parents ever do their jobs?

  "Sit down,” Spencer growled, when the girl crossed in front of him again. She stopped short, her blue eyes wide. He repeated himself. She kept staring.

  "Don't talk to my daughter that way!” An older woman with shoe-polish black hair snatched the girl's hand and tugged her away from Spencer.

  "Fine, lady. You tell her to sit down."

  "She doesn't have to sit down. You don't own this waiting room, do you?"

  "This waiting room is for sick people with head injuries. Do you think her screaming is helping anybody?"

  "You should just mind your own business."

  A nurse calling his name stopped Spencer from saying something he completely meant, but would probably regret. Shooting daggers at the girl and her crone of a mother, he pushed himself to his feet and made his way across the waiting room to the nurse.

  "Just come right this way and Dr. Stevens will be with you shortly."

  He frowned as he followed the nurse down the antiseptic hallway. Stevens was the neurologist. He'd expected to meet with the surgeon about his shoulder, though maybe those tests weren't complete yet. That consult would likely come after he finished with Stevens.

  Spencer sighed. He didn't want to wait around another three hours. Hopefully, Becca would finish her errands early and come around to keep him company.

  Dr. Stevens was an older gentleman, closely cut silver hair ringing his bald head. Warm blue eyes greeted Spence as he entered the man's office, and he gestured toward the seat opposite his desk, half-rising from his own in old-fashioned politeness.

  "I hope your day hasn't been too difficult for you,” Dr. Stevens said as they both sat down.

  "It hasn't exactly been a picnic."

  He nodded in sympathy. “It's too bad you're not staying in Salt Lake. You could have scheduled the tests for different days and not worn yourself out so much.” He opened the file in front of him, though he didn't look down at its contents. “I'm sure you're eager to hear how things went, though. Before I start, is there anything you want to ask, or tell me?"