“We’re actually married. Got married in the March.” Kayla’s hand drops to her stomach that I notice has a slight bulge. “We’re expecting our first baby in December.”
That makes me feel better. At least Callan wouldn’t be wanting her back, right?
Callan returns with Reed and kicks Kayla’s leg lightly only to have Reed shove him playfully. “Hands off my wife.”
“Don’t go tellin’ her lies ‘bout me.” Callan sits next to me, his hand on my leg, squeezing my knee. “Where’s Ty?”
I nod to the dance floor. “Dancing with Jessie.”
The songs about over but Callan turns to me. “Wanna dance?”
Oh. Uh, okay. “Sure.”
I’m so glad my words were better than my internal thoughts. He takes my hand, or I take his, either way, I love the feeling of my hand wrapped in his.
He leads me to the center of the dance floor. “You can dance, right?”
“Yes.” Wrapping my arms around him, my hands sliding over the nape of his neck. His lashes lower, watching me as his hands glide to my hips.
The song changes, it’s fast paced. I wasn’t sure what to expect when he starts to move me around the dance floor, but I quickly see that he can dance too.
The way he steps back when I start to move and gives me a once over and that smile, my heart jumps in my chest.
He lowers his hat and then takes my hand.
Again.
Seconds into the song I can see that he has more than just skills on a bull.
He can dance.
I shake my ass for him too. Maybe not your typical country dancing, but it’s perfect for the moment.
He draws me in tight, keeping his arms locked around me. “You wanna ride a cowboy?” His mouth lingers on my ear. It tickles yet feels so damn good.
I moan in his ear, my body wrapping around him and my breathing hitches, noticeably. His grip gets tighter, and his breathing hitches too when my mouth finds his neck. His grip is tight but right now, I want it tighter.
“I wanna ride you,” I tell him drawing back to see his reaction.
He stops moving and cups my cheeks with both hands. It sends a jolt through my body and his body presses into mine. Every hard line is against me, giving me his heat. My skin breaks into a fire, unfamiliar with this feeling. I’ve known him two weeks and drove hundreds of miles to see him. What that means, I don’t know.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is low, his eyes darting from mine and then to my lips. Like he wants to kiss me, but he doesn’t. He’s watching me. Waiting for me to say something.
Just when I think he’s going to kiss me, Ty bumps into him. “Hey champ, we’re getting food. Hungry?”
I realize then that I’m starving. Callan looks at me. “Let’s get you some food. You’re going to need your strength tonight.”
Oh. . .uh. . .There goes my internal speechlessness.
“I was hoping that would be the case,” I say, without thinking.
Ty shakes his head. “I think we should have got separate rooms.”
Callan shoves him, placing his hand between Ty’s shoulder blades. It’s all in good humor it seems, but I’m a little disappointed that they’re all in the same room.
“I’m starving!” Jessie announces. “Someone wouldn’t let me stop for food.”
Callan grins, playfully. “She would have missed my ride.”
“Something tells me you would have given her another one.” Jessie’s blunt. She’s always been.
Callan shrugs and looks at me. “I plan to.”
As we’re walking toward the restaurant portion of the club, Jessie wraps her arm around me when Callan lets go of my hand. He keeps close but not enough that he’s hearing what Jessie says. “I’m going to get a room at the hotel they’re at.”
I know exactly what she’s referring to. She wants Ty. And if I didn’t know, like it wasn’t obvious what she meant, she wraps her arm around him and then lets go and squeezes his ass.
When we get to the restaurant, it’s not easy to hear because of the music in the bar. I don’t need to hear much. I was definitely hungrier than I thought because when my burger arrives, I quickly devour it. The conversation around the table is mostly the guys talking about the bulls they drew for today and tomorrow and Ty being awarded a re-ride because the bull he was on didn’t perform.
Though they’re talking, Callan’s eyes dart back to mine every few seconds. Like he’s making sure I haven’t gone anywhere. His words ring in my ears and food is suddenly the very last thing on my mind.
It’s him. Just him. That hat, those eyes and that smile, all of it. I’m really not sure what to make of it. There is definitely a different feel about him tonight.
When I look at Jessie next, she’s laughing, flirting, I’ve never seen her so relaxed.
This trip was definitely something we needed.
After we finish eating, Callan sits a little closer, drinking slow and talking even slower, laid back and whispering words I’ve only dreamed of hearing, let alone believing, coming from him.
Dirty things. Like he thought of me the entire way to Tulsa and that he was pretty sure he was hard for the entire six-hour drive.
And more, like he wants to fuck me, right now, in this bar, in front of all these people.
It gets to a point where I’m about to beg him to do just that.
“I wanna show you something.” He says giving a nod to a door near the entrance, kissing the top of my forehead.
“Where?”
He tips his head, his brow scrunching. “Downstairs.”
I nod and he takes my hand.
Downstairs could potentially mean a lot of things right now. But sadly, it’s actually downstairs. Like in the basement.
Please let there be a bed down there.
If I thought that rodeo was something I’d never experienced before, I was wrong. In the basement of that bar in a private room was a mechanical bull centered on mats and another bar with about twenty people. It seems almost private as if only the selected few are allowed down here.
It’s clear within minutes that Callan is definitely one of those selected few and nods and tips of hats follow his entrance. He’s given a beer, and one for me too, which he twists the top off and hands me, keeping his left hand in mine. Like taking his hands off me is just not possible right now.
“Do you know all these people?”
He looks around. “Mostly.” And then he draws in a long breath, a motion that exudes sexiness at all levels, and nods to the room with the bull. “Ever been on a mechanical bull?”
I swallow, not sure if I heard him right. I stare at his flushed cheeks and glossy eyes as I reply. “No.”
“It’s set for slow.” He gives a nod to the mats, his left hand giving my backside a soft smack. “Show me whatcha got.”
Show him?
I know exactly what that means. He wants a show and I’m hell-bent on giving him one.
We walk over to the mechanical bull and I place my hand on the cool metal. “You yelled at me the last time I was on a bull.”
He shrugs his shoulders and places his hands over mine. “I know. . .but I wanna watch this.”
“And you’re in control.” I point out letting him know I know why he wants this.
He stares at my lips when he speaks and I can tell he desperately wants to kiss me. I feel it just like I did on the dance floor.
It’s not easy to get on there, Callan gives me a hand on the bull when the music starts in the basement. Maybe planned, I’m not sure, but it gives me that little push I need to do this. Somehow having music with anything can give you motivation.
“I’m The Only One” starts out with the distinctive twang of the guitar and then moves into the bass and lyrics knowing what I need to do. I wink over at Callan as he sits in a chair with a clear view of me and a beer in hand. I’m curious what he’s thinking right now. So curious I want to ask, beg him to tell me what he wants. I mea
n, he suggested this. Obviously he’s looking for something, right?
My nerves peak with my racing heart, my hands trembling slightly as the fear subsides with each breath. Taking a look around, I see I have an audience, men who are clearly with women but sneaking stolen glances in my direction as I sit on this mechanical bull.
“Ready?” Callan asks, his voice raised so I can hear him over the music, his hand on the button.
I give the same nod he does.
He hides his grin by lowering his head. “Hang on, baby.” His words are delivered slowly as his tongue darts out and licks his lower lip before the bottle in his hand raises. Taking a slow drink, the bottle pulls away from his lips, laughing lightly, and then presses the button. Leaning further back in the chair, he shifts his hips so his legs are out in front of him, one bent as he slouches to the right near the button. Appearing cool, calm and completely unlike me.
Raising my right arm in the air and keeping my left one on the metal saddle, I make sure his hat’s on my head properly when the bull starts to move beneath me. It’s definitely no Shooter, but with slow, steady rocking motions, I see how watching this could easily turn a guy on.
With a heavy sigh, my breath expels and I rock with the bull, rolling my hips in a way to get Callan’s attention, make him see I’ve got skills that he hasn’t even begun to see. Each movement is not only in tune with the bull, but the beat of the song playing. Maybe he set the speed like that on purpose.
Callan has complete control over the bull beneath me by that button and the handle his right hand is on and I think that excites him a little. He’s controlling me in a way that I’ve never experienced, giving me a thrill only he can.
I want to do more than tease him. I want to torture. I want him feeling a little of what he made me feel in Amarillo. That want, that desire that can’t be tamed unless you’re allowed to touch. And I want him to feel a little of the frustration I had on the way here. The anticipation. When the Bull’s on the downward motion, I move both hands to my hips, squeezing my legs together to hold on, I remove my tank top. Callan’s hat falls to the ground with it and then I arch my back into the rocking. Whistles and catcalls move throughout the room and I’m doing everything I can to turn him on, including spinning around on the bull and rocking to the movements backward. It’s the perfect song for this not only for the words but the rhythm.
The rush I get while I’m doing this gives me an idea of what he might feel riding a bull. Completely different rush but still, a rush.
By the way he sits in the corner, slouched in the chair, I know he’s turned on. I can see it in the way his eyes are set, his jaw flexing and the way he tenses when the whistles around him get to him. I can see his chest rising and falling faster and faster, struggling to stay seated during this when he realizes what these men are seeing. Beyond the fisting of his hands and the tightened jaw, there’s a condescending smirk tugging at his lips. Like if any guy made a move to do more than whistle and watch, that smirk is telling them it wouldn’t be a good idea. He watches the crowd, eyebrows raising to one whistling and clapping a little more than others and making suggestive moves. It’s Sheldon, another one of the riders. When he knows Callan’s looking at him, he catches Callan’s stare and backs up, dropping his eyes as he retreats.
Callan’s eyes drift back to mine and I feel them immediately like a heat lamp inches from my skin. I do my best to pretend this is the way I’m going to fuck him later tonight. Giving him an idea of the way I desire him. I want so badly to know what he’s thinking.
I’m panting when the song slows and I grind my hips into the saddle. Callan’s stare never wavers. Never breaks. Biting down on my bottom lip, I let my free hand move up my body, over my breasts and to my hair and then throw my head back, arching my back. I think about putting my finger in my mouth but decide not to.
When the song ends, the crowd cheers and I’m not sure what to make of it when Callan slams his hand down on the button and the machine comes to an abrupt halt. He gives that nod to the ones watching, a silent demand for them to leave.
And they do without question.
It’s clear he’s feared by many. Maybe they know him, maybe they don’t, but they certainly don’t question him.
He rights his position in the chair, sitting forward. When the basement’s empty, I motion to him with a finger, hoping he comes closer.
He shakes his head, standing, but denying me. When he knows everyone is gone, he gives a nod to the bartender in the room and he disappears too, without question. Makes me wonder if he’s done this before.
Callan then walks to the door, locks it and then turns to face me, teasing me as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. When he has it off, he lets it fall to the floor before me. He moves his hands to his buckle and then grins, slow country boy grinning, “You wanna do that part?”
I throw my head back and laugh. “I could. . .if you need me to.”
“I think you know I need you.”
He said that, right? That wasn’t just my brain playing tricks on me, right?
My heart pounds in my ears, my smile evident no matter how hard I try to hide.
He takes the final step towards the bull, his hands spread out. One behind me. One in front. I motion for him to get up there with me. He does and lifts me up so I’m straddling him.
He drags his parted lips down my neck and then over my collarbone and to my shoulder. Growling lightly, he bites at my shoulder. “Do you know how fucking sexy that was, darlin’?”
I say nothing and it seems to frustrate him. His hands move from my hips to angle my face his direction. “Do you?”
I nod, giving him what he wants, my answer. “I do.”
“Let’s get you out of these jeans.”
I purposely moan to tease him. “Mmmm. . .sounds good to me.” He helps me out of my jeans.
His hands wander, over my bare thighs and higher until they’re at my ribcage. I can tell he wants to go further and I do too.
“How far are you gonna let me take this in here?” His hands run over my breasts and higher over my erratic running wild heart.
“Whatever you want.” I mean it too. I’m ready and willing to give him anything and everything he wants from me.
He stops moving his hands suddenly, and then stares at me, intently. “At some point there will be a bed involved. But not right now.”
And then he kisses me, humming when our tongues meet from open mouth kisses. When that’s too much that we can’t breathe without heavy gasping breaths, his mouth moves to my neck. He’s loving my skin with teeth nipping and his tongue moving. I have to sigh because they’re the most desperate sound with each pass of his mouth over my skin, like it’s not enough for him. Like it will never be enough. I’m right there with him.
I can tell right then with his skin touching mine that it’s definitely not enough for me. I need him right now in this bar on this bull. My eyes travel over the length of his body but more importantly his chest and then his buckle.
That buckle.
It’s been on my mind since last night.
He knows what I’m thinking, the corners of his mouth twitch. “There’s better things than my buckle, baby.”
I get his buckle undone as he leans back on his hands allowing me access.
“Fuck. . .” he groans when he leans forward to wrap his arms around me, wincing in pain, shifting his position as if he’s uncomfortable.
“What’s wrong?”
“My zipper is digging into my balls.”
“Oh,” I say, giggling.
After adjusting his jeans, he brings me forward again and I curl my arms around his neck threading my hands in his hair, my legs wrapping around his hips as he pulls me into him. Strong arms move around me and then his hands grip my hips. He groans when I rock against him, eager to have him inside me. His hands move and pull himself out of his jeans but pauses. “I don’t have a condom on me right now.”
“Oh, uh, well I’m on the pill.”
“Okay. . .” He seems hesitant and I know why.
“I’m clean, Callan. I’ve been tested and I always use condoms.” Part of me thinks I should ask the same because of the girls I’ve seen at the rodeo today, but I don’t.
He gives a nod, his only indication he’s okay with it.
He finally drives in deep, his muscles coiling in an effort to stay still. And then once he’s fully sheathed inside me, it’s fast and desperate, everything those looks told me this would be.
“You’re like a goddamn addiction, baby.” He breathes against my lips. I moan into his embrace, melting around him, giving myself to him. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced because for one, he’s not wearing a condom and I can feel every inch of him inside of me. Maybe it was the way I teased him on the bull or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about him the entire way here but it certainly doesn’t take much and I’m already close.
He growls, his eyes never leaving my face. He knows I’m close as his hips slam into mine even harder as I rock myself into him. I watch as his head drops forward, his teeth sinking into his lower lips and it gets me. The sight too much to bare and it sends shivers throughout my body.
He grows, his body stilling and strained, shaking beneath me as my name on his lips falls in a strangled plea as he comes inside of me. I can feel him pulsing, every jerk of his body, and his breath hot and heavy on my skin.
I laugh when he slumps against me, my back arching and my hands in his hair.
“Now what?” I chuckle, thinking we should probably move. I’m completely naked straddling him on a mechanical bull and he’s only in his jeans.
“Someday I’d like to get you into a bed.” He says, kissing my lips and then my neck.
“That might be nice.”
He hums in response.
And then I ask, timidly, “Have you done that before?”
He shakes his head immediately. “Nope. Another first for me.”
The words give my heart a little tug.
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