Dirty Jock

by Sienna Valentine

  As I watched him work, I mused out loud, “I had no idea you could do all that.”

  He winked at me. “Your husband has a few surprises up his sleeve, you know.”

  Apparently, another one of those surprises was his ability to share a bed with his wife for four nights of their honeymoon and not manage to touch her once.

  I didn’t know why Bennett was holding back. We’d already had sex. I remembered enough from that night to know that. Was he trying to be gentlemanly? Was he waiting for me to make the first move? Maybe he was waiting for me to actually remember our wedding?

  Whatever it was, even if I made an attempt to initiate something, he pulled away—albeit seemingly with great reluctance. Yet, I was still getting to know him well in so many other ways as we spent day after day together. We’d practically created a commune here, and there was a part of me that wanted to stay here with Layla forever. Forget about Hollywood, forget about acting.

  It was easy enough to put my past life out of my mind. The ranch didn’t get any TV reception, and Bennett didn’t have cable, so I hadn’t seen anything in the news about me. Not after my phone’s battery died the first day and I decided not to bother recharging it. I didn’t want to have to face anything outside this beautiful bubble we’d created. Eventually I would have to face the real world again, but for at least a little while I was content to ignore it.

  Besides, even if we weren’t having sex, there were other distractions. Bennett was romantic. He’d surprise me with wildflowers or have River fill our meals with anything I even mentioned liking or having a craving for. We spent most evenings cuddling by the fire pit on the patio, until Layla and River disappeared, and then we’d tumble (platonically) into our own bed. Still, I was a little bitter that my assistant was having more sex on my honeymoon than I was.

  He woke me one morning with a thermos of coffee and two enormous blueberry muffins, fresh from the oven, if the steam rising from them was any indication.

  “Come on,” he said. “Can’t come to a ranch without riding horses.”

  I’d been past the stables several times since I arrived, but I hadn’t ventured inside. I wasn’t sure if these were the kind of horses you could ride or if you needed a special jockey license for them.

  It turned out that all of Bennett’s horses were former thoroughbred racers, now retired to a life of Western riding and lazily grazing in the sweet mountain grass.

  “Domino,” Bennett said, as he led me to one of the stalls. Inside was an impressive specimen, white with black spots that did look a bit like a domino. “I mean, the guy who sold him to me had some long ass name for him, but Domino seems to like his new nickname well enough, don’t you, boy?”

  Domino whinnied softly, shaking his mane.

  “He’s big, but he’s sweet,” Bennett assured me. “He’ll be an easy ride for you.”

  “Now here’s….”

  Bennett trailed off as he started explaining the tack to me, watching as I reached for Domino’s lead rope and tied it to the post.

  “Brush?” I said, holding out my hand once the rope was secure. Bennett wordlessly handed me the brush, and I started grooming the big horse, speaking softly to him as I worked. I’d learned to ride for the second season of Wild Rovers, for a small set of episodes where the family had visited a dude ranch. For realism, the handlers had taught us how to groom and tack our own horses.

  Once I’d gotten the saddle and bridle into place and was stroking the bridge of Domino’s nose, Bennett let out a low whistle. “How come you didn’t tell me you could ride?” he asked, and I shrugged, smiling.

  “Your wife has a few surprises up her sleeve too,” I said, swinging into the saddle.

  We rode up a trail behind the main house that led into the mountains. Bennett told me more about his family, about their summers here. I talked about the few family vacations we’d gone on before my career had started to take up too much of our time.

  At about lunchtime, we reached a wide clearing with a small stream trickling through it, ending in a wide pool, and tied up the horses. Bennett unpacked a picnic, and I stretched out in the sun. It was peaceful up here. Serene. Quiet. All the things my life was not.

  And that was before everything had gone to hell.

  After lunch, we lay on the blanket on our sides, arms tucked under our heads, swapping stories and laughing. He’d taken off his shirt, and both of us had shed our shoes.

  “You should have seen his face!” Bennett said, shaking his head. “He just couldn’t fathom how his car had made it into the bell tower.”

  “You’re the worst sort of prankster!” I said, but I couldn’t stop the laugh bubbling up in my chest.

  Bennett got suddenly serious, his smile sliding from his face. I wondered if I’d hit a nerve somehow. After a moment he looked like he was about to say something; something serious that would shatter the illusion of this perfect day, and I didn’t want that. I wasn’t ready for it.

  Smiling, I jumped to my feet instead.

  “Come on!” I said, starting to pack up our lunch. “I want to go for a swim before dinner.”

  He rose as well, customary grin sliding back into place, and waggled his eyebrows. “Why wait?” he asked, and before I could respond, he’d swept me from my feet and tossed me over his shoulder, making a beeline for the stream.

  “Bennett Dallas Campbell, don’t you dare!” I shrieked between peals of laughter, and a moment later we were both soaked, standing in the middle of a stream that proved deceptively deep.

  “You were saying?” Bennett asked, managing to still look sexy, even with his hair half wet and falling in his face. His feet touched the bottom of the pool, but mine didn’t, and I was treading water in front of him.

  “You’ll pay for that,” I promised, laying my head back to wet my hair thoroughly, and then wiping it forward, spraying him in the face with a shower of droplets. It wasn’t much of a payback, but I could hardly stay mad at him. Bennett hardly even noticed as his hands found my waist under the water, and my hands went to his shoulders, sending a fresh cascade of water sliding down his skin, pooling briefly in his clavicle before continuing on.

  “Name your price, Sunshine,” he said, and I pressed a little closer, the heat of our bodies together warming me even in the cool water.

  “Kiss me,” I said quietly, meeting his eyes.

  “Done,” He dropped a quick kiss onto my lips, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

  “No,” I said. “Really kiss me.”

  “Ava,” he began, but I cut him off.

  “I’m your wife, Bennett. So stop making excuses and just kiss me.”

  As I pressed myself as close to him as I could, I felt his erection growing against my thigh and leaned in, my lips a whisper away from his. “Kiss me,” I repeated softly, and he finally obliged.

  The kiss was slow and sweet to begin, but it quickly heated up, and soon my legs were wrapped around his waist under the water, and his fingers were sliding up the back of my wet, clinging tank top.

  “Bennett,” I murmured against his lips when we broke to breathe.

  “Ava,” he whispered in return, voice a low rumble that sent a wave of lust through me.

  Surprised by my own boldness, I let my hand slide down his bare chest, finding his jeans beneath the water, fumbling open the button and zipper and sliding my hand inside his boxers. Bennett groaned as my fingers curled around his hard length, and it pulsed in my hand as I began to stroke.

  “Fuck,” Bennett muttered. “Fuck, Ava.”

  “Soon,” I answered, feeling my own arousal rapidly building. “Tonight.”

  And then we were kissing again, tongues teasing each other, and Bennett’s hand moved between my legs, rubbing against me, making me shudder.

  We moved together for a few, frantic moments, and then we were both hovering on the edge, and I gasped a soft, “Please.” He groaned and bucked forward, his hand moving more insistently over my clit and I clung to him, shuddering out
my own orgasm.

  Our lips met lazily, huffing out breaths between kisses, and I’m not sure how long we stayed in that pool, holding each other and kissing slow and sweet once again.

  Chapter 16

  Bennett

  I’d pulled myself away from Ava after dinner just for a quick moment to check my email. I knew she still didn’t want to get onto the Internet, so I was careful to make sure I was always alone when I got online. She’d been so happy. I didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize that.

  Over the past few days, her happiness had become more and more important to me. I felt like I finally had a job to do. If I could just keep her smiling, I’d know I accomplished something.

  It wasn’t always easy. Since our dip in the meadow, it had only gotten more difficult to avoid her advances.

  Not that I didn’t want to touch her. I wanted to touch her so badly that sometimes I forgot to breathe when her leg pressed against mine or when she tucked her head under my chin. I was in a constant state of sexual frustration, and I had no one to blame for it but myself.

  I pushed away thoughts of waking up in the middle of the night to her pressed tight against my body, her hand so close to my hard cock that it was all I could do not to shift it those few inches closer.

  Focusing on the computer in front of me, I quickly sifted through my emails.

  I had two conferences asking me to come and speak. I fired off quick declines. The one with the subject “Consulting Contract” I deleted without even reading.

  I didn’t need cash, and I wasn’t in any rush to leave the ranch. Not as long as Ava wanted to stay. She wasn’t the only one avoiding the real world, although we had very different reasons for doing so.

  For me, returning to the real world meant no longer having Ava in my life—never again hearing her sweet voice call me Cowboy.

  The real world was one where I would have to not only admit to the truth, but finally face it. And then I’d lose her. She would be gone. She’d never stay here, not for a single minute after hearing what I’ve done, how I’ve lied.

  A tiny part of me still argued that maybe we could make it work. Just say a big old “fuck you” to the world and hide away at the ranch forever, but that part of me was delusional, and there was no use dwelling on fantasy.

  I closed my laptop with a snap and headed back out to the patio where the girls were pouring sangrias.

  “Look who’s back!” Layla said, raising her glass in my direction. “We missed you, boy toy!”

  Layla had taken to calling me Ava’s boy toy ever since Ava had pointed out how good I looked in a swimsuit. Of course, I was fine with being their eye candy. I was fine anytime Ava’s eyes were on me.

  “Does that mean you’ve finally decided I’m not an ax murderer?” I teased, picking up a glass once Ava had filled it.

  “Well,” Layla said, as though she were seriously considering the question. “Actually, I think the person mostly likely to be a crazed murderer around here is River.” My caretaker walked up just at that moment, a bemused grin on his face. “I mean, he’s the one that’s been living up here alone all this time, with access to all the power tools.”

  “Huh?” River asked, sidling up to Layla. “I think I missed something.”

  “Nothing important, hot stuff,” Layla assured him.

  Ava had moved over to the sofa, and I took a seat next her, sighing in contentment when she curled against my side. We had already started settling into each other almost by habit.

  Just as I set my glass down, she leaned into my ear and spoke so quietly I was sure I was the only one who could hear, “I remember something else about that night. About our wedding night.”

  My heart started pounding, and I could hear the rush of blood through my ears. I had no idea what she was about to say, but I couldn’t help thinking that this was it. My time was up.

  “Oh?” I said, trying not to sound terrified.

  She lifted her head, lips brushing my burning ear. “I remember the elevator,” she whispered, and when I turned my head to look at her, she pressed into a kiss.

  I remembered the elevator, too. And as she kissed me it all vividly came back. How she’d clung to me; how she’d come for me.

  But the memory was still nothing compared to the reality of having Ava in my arms. The kiss quickly deepened, and she slid into my lap, straddling my thighs. I was dimly aware of Layla and River making a retreat, but all I could think of was Ava. This whole week I’d been struggling to be good, to do the right thing, but ever since the meadow I hadn’t been able to think of anything else. When I closed my eyes, I saw her stretched out on the hotel bed, hand held out in invitation. When she touched me, I remembered the grip of her pussy around me, pulling me further into her. When she curled up against me, I remembered passing out together, exhausted and sated, tangled in each other’s bodies.

  Her delicate hands framed my face, keeping me close, as though worried I would try to pull away once again. Only this time my resolve had weakened to the point that I couldn’t, even if I still wanted to. My arms wrapped around her, and I stood slowly, giving her time to wrap her legs around my torso.

  We stumbled into the house, unable to pull away from the kiss long enough to see where we were going. Somehow we made it to the bedroom, and I began to tug at her clothes, peeling away the layers that had been hiding her from me all week. I felt a spike of possessive desire when she was down to her bra and panties, standing in front of me, looking me in the eye as she stripped away the last of her clothing.

  I was so hard I thought I might burst through the zipper of my jeans. Somehow I managed to get my shirt off, but that was all the time I had before she was lying naked on my bed, once again beckoning to me with a wave of her hand. I crawled over her, my body sliding smoothly along hers as I bent to kiss her, slow and hot and aching. She gasped as I let my lips drag along her jaw and down her throat, tongue pressing briefly against her fluttering pulse.

  I wanted to taste every inch of her, wanted to memorize her body in this moment and carry this memory with me for the rest of my life.

  Her fingers tangled into my hair as I caught the pink tip of one perfect nipple in my teeth, giving it a gentle tug before soothing over the skin with my tongue.

  “Bennett,” she breathed, arching up toward me. “Please, Bennett….”

  I didn’t know exactly what she was asking for, but I could guess. It was the exact same thing I was ready to beg for as well. A moment later she was guiding my head down, the muscles in her stomach quivering under my mouth, until I was settled between her legs.

  Lifting my head briefly, I caught and held her gaze. “Fuck,” I breathed. “You’re perfect.”

  She gasped out a half-choked laugh, but I didn’t give her any more time than that to respond before I dipped my head to drag my tongue over her glistening folds. I was gentle, slow, teasing her with feather-light touches of my tongue to her skin, but I couldn’t keep it up for long, and well before she asked for more, I was pressing in closer, wanting to taste her, smell her, hear the involuntary noises of pleasure she made when the tip of my tongue finally made contact with her clit.

  “Jesus!” she gasped, arching up, her fingers twisting in my hair.

  That was the end of my patience. I sucked her clit between my lips, tongue flicking hard and fast over it. I wanted to hear her come, wanted to be reminded of the breathy way her voice failed her when she tried to say my name. My dick throbbed against the mattress, but I didn’t think anything of it, focused entirely on her pleasure, desperate to get her off.

  “Ben... Ben,” she chanted, her thighs tightening around my ears as I relentlessly pressed into her with my tongue. “Ben... Benne—ah fuck!” Her body tensed, and I felt her climax as though it were my own, her pleasure washing through me.

  As she came down, trembling, I gave her clit one more teasing flick of my tongue, gratified to hear her shaky laugh.

  “Come here,” she breathed, tugging at my hai
r to pull me back up for a kiss, arms looped around my shoulders, legs coming up to frame my hips. Her hands slid down my chest, fingernails dragging a slow, methodic line over my abdomen until they reached my jeans and hastily opened them.

  I groaned into Ava’s mouth as her hand wrapped around my length. “Fuck,” I muttered, hips bucking forward automatically.

  “Please,” Ava answered, guiding my cock to her entrance with one hand, the other still tangled in my hair.

  I met her gaze, addicted now to the look on her face as I slowly pushed into her.

  She was as tight and as perfect as I’d remembered. More so, even. I never wanted to leave the sweet torture of her grip on me. As I began to move, Ava held my gaze, and it felt like we were panting in unison. She settled into my rhythm, and I moved slow and deep, dragging it out, wanting this moment to last forever. This moment where I could allow myself to believe this was real, that it wasn’t a fantasy threatening to crumble around me in an instant.