Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1)

Home > Other > Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1) > Page 3
Roman's Choice (Saddles & Second Chances Book 1) Page 3

by Rhonda Lee Carver


  Bracing her hands on his muscular thighs, the crisp, short hairs on his legs tickled her palms. She gripped him, pulled him in deeper, using her tongue and lips in tandem to give him ultimate pleasure. She felt him jerk, the tip of him rubbing the back of her throat. The part of him that wouldn’t fit inside of her mouth, she used her fingers to massage the iron-hard muscle. Working him. Suckling him. Leaving her brand.

  She enjoyed teasing him, caressing him with her mouth, sucking him in a rhythmic motion that had his chest rising and falling, matching the fast beats of her heart. She continued to stare up his body, watching the expression changing on his face. His jaw tightened, his teeth clenched and his lips thinned. His fingers were in her hair, entwining the strands around his fists, as he thrust his length into her mouth, but gently as if he knew how large he was. He was unlike the other men who didn’t care if they gagged her, or made her jaws ache. She knew from the start that Roman Jericho, a cowboy from Texas, was different. Exactly what she needed to salve her libido. But only for tonight. She wasn’t looking for a warm body to fill an empty space—especially not a rodeo star. Not a player.

  She’d never had a one-night stand before and she planned to suck every little enjoyment out of it that she could get. Roman made her feel wild and unrestricted—beautiful and sensual. She wanted to show him pleasure. She wanted to be as free as the bikini-clad buckle bunnies that brazenly tossed themselves at him.

  This was a start…

  Sliding one hand around, she clenched his tight bottom—a rider’s bottom. She bet he never stepped into a gym, didn’t have to. Callused hands, tanned skin, muscular physique all spoke of a hard worker on a ranch. She liked rough and tough men who weren’t afraid of taking what he wanted. Her pussy throbbed at the prospects. She walked her fingers to his thigh, then cupped his sac. He jerked and moaned. She increased the speed of her sucking, taking as much of him as she could. He dropped one hand to her back, tenderly rubbing her flesh and muscle, a gentle massage of inspiration. His rough fingers ignited more awareness in her secret places, her inner thighs were moist and tingly. She was burning in the flames of lust.

  She pulled her head back, releasing him from her mouth. His cock snapped against his stomach. She smiled and rolled her tongue along her swollen lips. “I could do that all day, cowboy, but I need you to put out my fire.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted into a grin that could have knocked her panties off if she was wearing them. Yeah, she knew, without a sliver of doubt, she would find pleasure in every second of this night, and walk away a new woman. A satisfied woman. She was reminded of the women back at the fairgrounds who were giddy over an autographed boob. Pippa wanted Roman’s autograph on her soul.

  *****

  Roman unsnapped her shorts and slowly eased the denim down her luscious hips, sucking in a breath when he realized she was going commando. The tip of his cock throbbed. Now that she was completely naked, he spread her legs wide, taking in the slick, moist lips of her pussy that glistened with eagerness. He dipped closer, breathing in the deep scent of woman. His mouth salivated as he anticipated sinking his tongue into her pink folds. He wanted to suck her into submission, hear her call his name over and over.

  He shifted, placed both his hands on her ass and lifted her. He couldn’t wait to taste. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

  “You,” she whimpered.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  “Inside of me.”

  “No, not yet. I want to know you, your taste, your touch, all of you. Do you want that too?”

  She shivered under him. “Yes. Taste me, Roman.”

  His cock jerked and he bared his teeth. That’s what he wanted to hear. Without another second lost, he plunged his tongue into her sweet delicacy, swirling and licking. He blew on her clit, then kissed it lightly. She jolted, but he caught her with his hands on her hips, taming her bucking to light thrusts. Her juices thickened and he lapped them up, sinking his tongue into her opening to make sure he missed nothing. Her muscles clenched and her deep moans became louder. He heard her fingernails ripping into the sheet as she clung to the bed. She was close… “Come for me, baby.”

  Her inner thighs squeezed around his head as she gave one last buck against his face and tongue before she collapsed onto the mattress, spent. But this was only the beginning.

  He quickly reached inside of his billfold, grabbed the square packet and ripped it open with his teeth. He slipped the protection onto his cock in record speed and was between her thighs. “I want to sink my body into yours.”

  “I want that too. Now.” Her eyes were glazed and her nostrils were flared. His breaths were uneven as he found her opening, positioning himself to sink deep. “Yes, Roman. Take me. Hard and fast,” she demanded.

  Her juices soaked his thigh and he couldn’t wait another second. He rammed himself within her sweet body and she squeezed him like a new leather glove. He moaned as he buried himself inside her and she lifted her hips to give him full access to every delicate inch of her. Her tight passage almost sent him over the edge. “I’ve gotta slow down. Make this last. You’re just so damn good—feel so good.”

  After he gained more control, he started moving again, caressing her opening with his cock, feeling her clench him with her muscles. “Do you like it a little rough?”

  “Yes. Give it all to me, Roman.”

  He obeyed. He slid his fingers in her hair, tugging not to hurt her, but to use her as leverage as he pumped hard in and out. He pulled completely out, then rammed her again, each time, each stroke, he managed to sink deeper.

  She spread her legs wider, sinking her heels into his back, and the friction almost made it impossible to last. He found every last drop of control as she grew hotter. He slid his fingers from her hair, slipped one hand between their sweat-slick bodies, and found her clit, rubbing the swollen bead, matching the thrusts of his cock.

  “Yes! Yes!” she yelled the words as passion flowed between them like an ocean of honey. His mind spun, but then it stopped and he slowly drifted into the hands of glorious paradise.

  Her pussy tightened and her cries of release shattered the silence. He slammed his hips against her, pressing his body to hers as together they allowed human nature to propel them into sweet erotic bliss.

  “We can’t let this end, sweetheart. I want this to last forever.”

  “Yes. Forever.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WITH A LETHARGIC moan, Pippa stretched her arms and legs. Her feet popped out from under the satin sheet and her fingers grazed the headboard. She’d never felt so great in her life. Why?

  She fluttered her eyes open, blinking against the sunlight flowing through the large window that overlooked the Vegas strip. She smiled and rolled over, her sensitive breasts and inner thighs slicing awareness straight through to her mind. Reality came in choppy pieces. Roman…sex…lots of sex…the sweet little white chapel.

  The sweet little what?

  Oh no!

  Lifting herself onto one elbow, she scanned the room, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. She grimaced. Oh hell. She looked like she’d been through a cyclone and lived to tell about it. Her normal straight style had turned into a rat’s nest of ebony tresses standing straight on her head. She attempted to push her fingers through the mess, but it was no use…and that’s when something else grabbed her attention.

  A pair of worn, dusty boots sat next to the chair.

  Craning her neck, she skimmed the floor looking for further evidence and she found a wrinkled puddle. His shirt.

  “Oh shit,” she whispered.

  She hadn’t been dreaming of the tall, tanned, sexy cowboy. It had been real. She’d had sex—amazing sex—with a cowboy. A rodeo star.

  Her phone buzzed from the nightstand and she reached over to grab it, but a glinting from her fourth finger of her left hand made everything around her come to a crashing halt. Much like when she was a kid and learned there was no Santa Claus or
Easter Bunny. She looked closer at the wide band. The metal was nicked and dinged. Engraved on the side was the name “Roman”.

  Dropping back onto the firm pillow, she searched her brain, every nook and cranny. What happened last night after they’d gone downstairs to have a drink and try out the slot machines? She rubbed her brow, scared to examine the facts. The Elvis impersonator and the words, “You may kiss your bride” were like neon signs in the back of her brain.

  She popped up off the pillow, her mind now racing. If his things were here…that would mean he was here too.

  Moving her gaze to the closed bathroom door, she gulped down a large dose of truth, her stomach twisting. She heard splashing of water. The faucet shutting off.

  Her one-night stand turned into a breakfast thing. She nibbled at her bottom lip, looking back down at the ring. This was a joke. It couldn’t be possible.

  Rubbing her temples, she forced the narrow paths of her brain to cooperate.

  If her stomach hadn’t been empty, she would have vomited everything up. The ceremony wasn’t a dream.

  This wasn’t like Pippa. No, the relationship expert her fans loved wouldn’t be holed up in a hotel room after a hot night…with a makeshift wedding band on her finger.

  She jumped out of bed, dragging the sheet around her body as she paced the plush carpeted floor. There had to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. After all, she was a sensible person. Logical. Once Roman came out of the restroom, they’d get to the bottom of things…

  *****

  Roman gripped the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror, coming to grips with where he was and what he’d done last night that could very possibly change his life forever.

  He knew he should have never come to Vegas. He’d given up the lights long ago for a simpler life. He was a country boy, liked his worn jeans, dusty boots, and cowboy hat. He should have woken up to the rooster crowing and the sweet scent of fresh hay. Instead, he woke up with a beautiful woman tucked in his arm.

  Not just any woman.

  His wife.

  Admittedly, he’d been lonely for some time and that’s why he’d fallen into the beautiful woman trap.

  He turned his stare to the closed door that led to where that particular woman still lay sleeping.

  He’d allowed his loneliness to send him down the wrong path. Back on his family owned ranch, Roman worked himself into exhaustion on the land and the security business. The days always ended with him settling down with a beer in hand, football on the TV, and another restless night in a big, cold bed. His brothers teased him that he was in a rut and Roman guessed they were pretty darn accurate. He was too old, and didn’t care, to hang out at the clubs. He wasn’t about to join the dating sites his friends had pushed him to try. He had gotten used to being alone.

  Hell, it wasn’t as if women didn’t find him attractive. That went for all of his single brothers. After Roman’s divorce, a short marriage of eighteen months just three years ago, he’d dived into business and he really hadn’t come up for air since. He’d dated a few times, nothing serious, and hadn’t held a woman in a year…until last night.

  He’d been raging with a need, uncontrollable and hot, and he wanted to rack it up to being horny, but the second he saw the petite brunette, his cock had been rampant with a thick desire. It wasn’t as if she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. In fact, her eyes were a little too big for her face and her nose was bent—slightly. Who was he kidding? He’d gotten a good look at her this morning and she was striking. There was something undeniable about her and he’d known the second he saw her at the fairgrounds that he’d need more than just a conversation and a one-night stand. Yet, marriage wasn’t quite what he’d been thinking.

  Damn! He shook his head in frustration. He should feel guilt, irritation maybe, over what he’d done, but instead he felt satisfied—if not greedy for more.

  A man can only go so long satisfying himself. He’d even gotten to the point where he didn’t even enjoy masturbating. It was a means to an end.

  When he first opened his eyes, he’d hoped he had been dreaming. But shifting and seeing her sleeping, nestled up close to his side, made all of his worst fears take root. He was hitched—to a complete stranger. A night of exploring each other’s body didn’t make two people worthy of being husband and wife. The only personal thing he knew about her was her name, Pippa Wilder. He bet it wasn’t even her real name. Who was named Pippa?

  He blew out a long breath through his tight lips.

  How the hell had he gotten into this situation?

  One second he was neck deep in heaven on earth having a wonderful time and, just on a whim, he’d jokingly said they should get hitched and be like all the others who succumbed to the bright lights and charm of Vegas. Hell, he hadn’t expected her to agree, but then again, he hadn’t been disappointed.

  There was a simple solution to this. He’d heard many people talk about making a mistake and then getting the marriage annulled. People did it all of the time. Easy peasy.

  But there was one problem. What if she didn’t want an annulment? What if she wanted to stay married?

  And how could he ask his new wife for a divorce when they’d been married for less than twenty-four hours?

  He was in trouble. Big trouble. His brothers would laugh him off the ranch if they got wind of this scenario. Good thing Penn went home yesterday after the event.

  Turning, he leaned against the marble counter and tore a hand through his hair. He thought of how Pippa had responded to his lovemaking, how she’d writhed and whimpered under him. He remembered her soft touch, and softer body, that a man craves. And for the second time in a lifetime, he’d married a woman with no possible chance for a future.

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. His first wife, Uma, had pursued him until he’d finally yielded to her seduction. Before he knew what he was doing, he married her, the biggest regret of his life. She seemed caring at first until he realized she had a thing for all cowboys and her size DD breasts had worked magic with other cowboys too. He’d grown tired of the rumors of her entertaining other men while he was away on the circuit, packed her bags and had them waiting on the porch when she’d finally gotten home from a Zumba class at midnight. Interestingly enough, she’d cried crocodile tears, but they hadn’t lasted long. She’d known, as well as he had, that she just couldn’t keep her legs closed.

  But he’d been thinking of marriage a lot lately. He couldn’t allow the past to sour the future. He deserved—and wanted—a chance at a family. Yet, at the same time, he didn’t want the heartache and risk that went with loving someone. Second chances were rare and he was starting to doubt he’d get one—unless this was his…

  He darted another glance at the door.

  Holding Pippa last night, he realized how much he’d missed holding a real body—natural and curvaceous. She’d given his self-image a boost after she’d orgasmed at least eight times. In the past, he’d felt like he couldn’t satisfy his wife enough to keep her skirt down, yet no woman had ever complained about his skills.

  The day he’d asked, or rather demanded, Uma leave, she’d gone from the sad woman to the witch in a matter of record breaking speed. She’d accused him of being cold, distant, uncaring, and, looking back now, he realized she’d been right. He’d never loved her, not like a man should love a woman, but he’d been raised to make things work and stay loyal, although he’d been gone much of their marriage riding bulls. A man doesn’t like facing the fact that he hadn’t made his partner happy and that she’d had to fill her body with every Tom, Dick, and Harry to find fulfilment.

  The few women after Uma had been nothing more than a temporary salve. He didn’t like that he’d used women, but at the same time, he’d been used too. None of them had pursued him wanting a relationship or asked to see him again outside of the one night.

  Pushing off the sink, he knew he couldn’t stay in the bathroom hiding li
ke a coward all morning. He had places to be and business to finalize before he headed back to Texas that afternoon, back to his normal life at the Second Chances Ranch.

  Splashing his face with cold water and using the complimentary black comb, he finally felt together enough to step out into the large room where he found his bride pacing the floor, a satin sheet wrapped around her body and dragging at her feet. With the back light of the sun, he could see straight through it. He gulped air and commanded his lungs to function. He skimmed his eyes over her and his heart kicked up in speed. She was absolutely breathtaking. Her dark hair was wild around her flushed cheeks. Her green eyes seemed to absorb every sun ray and dazzled like diamonds. Her skin was pale, reminding him of the fresh milk they got from the cows, flawless and smooth. And her body. Oh wow…her body. What words did he have in his limited vocabulary to explain how sexy and seductive her curves were? His cock pressed against the zipper of his jeans and he had a strong desire to rip the sheet from her and remind himself why he’d gotten caught up in this trap in the first place.

  But when she realized he was standing there, she came to a sudden stop, her lips twisted and her eyes narrowed. Yeah, she wanted an annulment. Her expression said everything he needed to know. He felt a sudden weight being lifted from his shoulders, and a dagger being driven into his chest.

 

‹ Prev