by BA Tortuga
“I’m not bouncing.” Much.
“Are too. You’re stupid for him.”
Emily shrugged. “Maybe.” So what if she was? Cotton was solid and fine and great in bed and he called her and liked talking to her and thought she was pretty and…
“I just hate to see you get so involved. You’re gonna get hurt.”
“Why? Because he’s country?”
“No, because he’s not our kind of people, and his kind don’t stay with ours.” Ricki’s dark-lined eyes rolled as she drawled out the words.
“Oh, Jesus, how backwater. Our kind of people?”
“What? It’s the truth.” Ricki went on, but the gate had just opened up and was starting to spill people out. Em was too busy hunting for a certain redheaded cowboy to listen.
There he was, grinning like a fool, cowboy hat bobbing as he clumped down the stairs. God, he was fine.
Edible.
He had his bag slung over his shoulder, so there would be no waiting for luggage. Cool. She liked a man who traveled light.
“Hey, honey!” He came right to her, tilting his head so his hat didn’t hit her when he gave her a kiss.
“Mmm. Hey, baby.” She wrapped one arm around his waist. “Ricki offered to give us a ride back to my place.”
He tasted good. He licked her bottom lip, then he pulled away and raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t you the one up and left her at the bar the night of that ball thingee?”
“I’m the smart one, absolutely.”
She was going to kick Ricki. Hard.
“Well, then, I owe you a thank you.” Cotton put an arm around her waist, steering her toward the exit. “How are you, honey?”
She leaned in, loving the way he smelled, the way he felt against her. “Good. I’m glad to see you. Are you ready for your big break?”
He had a ton of time off, barring weird little promotional deals that he did for sponsors—tractors and tires and hitches. Emily wasn’t sure she’d know what a hitch was. He’d tried to explain it to her once, and her eyes had glazed over, so he’d popped her butt, and that had led to more slap and tickle…
“Auntie? Are you paying attention? We’re parked over here.” Ricki was obviously really pissed.
“Sorry. Sorry, Ricki. I was…” Her cheeks were on fire, and she smoothed down her little smocked top, hoping that her hard nipples didn’t show.
“So, can I take y’all to brunch or something? I’d like to thank you for coming to get me, ma’am.” Oh, man. Cotton was trying to be nice, but calling Ricki ma’am was bad.
“I’ve got to get to work. I’ll drop you off somewhere close to a bus stop, if you want.” Ricki was bristling, but staying quiet.
“Home is cool—we can walk somewhere later.”
Cotton gave her a look for a second, but the light dawned, and he grinned. “Heck, one of my sponsors does cars. If I have to, I can rent.”
“Well, you said they were bringing your truck back soon, and I work from home tomorrow, hmm?” She didn’t need a car in Austin. That’s why she had friends.
“You bet.” The look turned hot, Cotton obviously liking the idea of her at home all day.
“You two are as bad as newlyweds. Come on.”
Ricki stomped out, and Em leaned over, whispering low. “Ignore her. She hasn’t gotten laid for months.”
“I got plenty of friends, honey.” He winked and slid hand down to squeeze her butt, just a little.
She chuckled. Right, because cowboys and Goths apparently made lovely couples. “She’s not incredibly adventurous.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” Yeah. He sounded all broken up.
“Be nice. I bought groceries for a couple of days, some movies.” She lowered her voice. “Some bubble bath, some…other supplies.”
“Oh, now. Who needs a car?” He held doors open, held car doors for her. It was weird and wonderful.
Ricki’s looks? Not so wonderful. She glared a little, the death metal making the car vibrate around them. She pulled out a five to pay for short-term parking, and they headed back downtown. To his credit, Cotton said nothing and ignored Ricki’s rearview death ray glare in favor of smiling at her. She reached back, touched his knee, the denim soft, well-worn. He grabbed her hand and held on, loose enough that she could get away if she had to, but enough to feel it.
“You suck.” Ricki winked, and Em smiled at her. A girl needed her best friend. For real. And Ricki was trying to make nice.
“You rock for the ride, though. Really.”
“You do.” Cotton squeezed her fingers. “I really appreciate what you do for Emmy.”
“Auntie’s our girl, man. We’ve got her back.”
“That’s good to have.” It seemed to take forever to get to her place. Traffic was a bear. They made it, though, before anyone killed anyone.
Em handed Ricki a twenty, kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Rick. You’re a pal.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go tell everyone at the shop you blew him in the back seat on the way here.”
“That’s not right.” Cotton was grinning, but there was a tiny bit of hardness in his eyes. “Thank you for the ride, Ricki. Have a good one.”
She waved Ricki off, and they headed to her door. She’d cleaned out a couple of drawers for him, made him a key and emptied out a few plugs on her surge protector, but she didn’t know how to tell him so he wouldn’t think she was stalkery.
He waited until they got inside to grab her and kiss her.
Oh.
Oh, hi.
She dropped her bag and stepped in close, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Yeah. That was… Cotton’s mouth took hers by storm, lips pressing hard enough to bruise a little. She opened to him, sliding her tongue against his. Missed him. She’d missed him.
“Mmm.” Easing back, he smiled down at her, hands warm on her waist. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She reached up, traced his smile. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat a horse.” He pecked another kiss on her nose.
“I bought bacon and frozen biscuits. You can put your stuff in the bedroom, and I’ll start them.” And check her email and possibly squeal on Facebook.
“Thanks, honey. Kiss me one more time.”
“Only one more time?” She leaned in and traced Cotton’s lips.
“Before I go stow my stuff, yeah. Missed you.”
“I missed you, baby. You taste good.” She kicked off her shoes, took his hat and hung it on a coat hook. Then she took her kiss, her whole body snuggled into Cotton’s solid heat. They kissed long enough that she didn’t think they’d get breakfast. His cock pressed against her through jeans and dress, even hotter than everything else.
“I want you.” She’d shaved for him, was wearing silky little pink panties as a welcome back gift.
“Then you’ve got me.” He pushed his hands down to grab her butt, and he lifted her right up. He shouldn’t be able to do that, damn it. It was too hot.
A knock came to the door. “Emily? Emily, did I see that you were home?”
God, Mrs. Hanson. Nosy old bitch. “Shh. Don’t stop.”
He chuckled, but kept it low, heading for the bedroom. He didn’t seem worried at all.
“Emily, honey? I thought there was a cowboy in your apartment…”
She started giggling, the sound trapped against his neck.
“Should I go tell her howdy?”
God, no. Not with her lipstick all over his face and his shirt hanging at half mast.
“Don’t make me beat you.” He hooted and made like he was heading back for the door, so she took his hand, helped it under her skirt to where she was all smooth and bare.
“Oh.” He stopped dead, staring at her. “Oh, honey.”
“Uh-huh. Now, you want to go meet my neighbor, or do you want to see?”
“I want to see.” She could tell. He was seeing with his hand pretty good. They walked back to the bedroom, his fingers making her stop and shake every f
ew steps. He was dangerously good at that.
By the time they got to the bedroom, his shirt was off, her dress was up under her arms, and the tiny pink panties? So gone.
She stripped off the rest of the dress, wriggling to get it off her arms so she could touch too.
His jeans hit the floor about the same time as her dress, his belt buckle thunking down. Later, he’d get up and carefully fold it all, piling it on top of his boots. It was dear. She shrugged her bra off, and he got rid of the socks as she stepped into his arms.
“Hey, now. You said I got to look.” He wasn’t really complaining, though, was he? He was touching and kissing.
She chuckled and stepped back, trying hard not to cover her problem areas, to seem confident.
“That’s more like it.” He put his hands on his hips, standing just like he did in boots and jeans. Looked like he didn’t have the naked worry. She could feel the heat traveling up her legs, into her belly, heading north. Okay, intimate. Very. Wow. “Mmmhmm.” Cotton stepped up and took her hands, holding them out to the side. “I approve, honey.”
“Yeah?” Her heart beat so fast she felt a little dizzy.
“Oh, yeah. So pretty. I love this here.” He let go with one hand to push up under her breast.
“Cotton…” Her nipple was hard enough to cut glass. His hands were pure magic.
“Emmy.” His smile took her breath away. It had the pure devil in it. She leaned into his touch, wiggling a little so she could feel his calluses. He tightened his hand, then his thumb rubbed up over her nipple, the scrape and tingle just what she needed. The whole nibbling on her neck thing helped.
She slid her free hand over his belly, fingers just tracing his shaft. The skin was so soft, so delicate. All male. Those strong thighs flexed, Cotton going up on tiptoe. He liked that. Liked it a lot. Em hummed, then she traced a lazy circle around the tip, gathering up the wetness at the slit so that she could lick her fingers clean.
“Oh, God.” His whole body jerked, his skin going flushed and hot. His cock jerked too, his hips rocking and rolling.
She leaned forward, let her lips brush his ear. “You taste good.”
“You. I…” He threw his head back and laughed, the sound happy as anything. “You’re amazing, honey.”
“Well, good. This would be wicked awkward, if you thought I sucked.” She winked. “Pun intended.”
“Yeah.” His hand moved, spasmodically, as if he’d forgotten he was holding on to her.
“Come to bed.” She tugged, just a little, and he followed. They could explore, touch, laugh, hopefully explore the wonders of multiple orgasms.
“I’m with you.” They finally made it to the bed, flopping down like a pair of landed fish, which made them laugh again.
He rolled her over, exploring her new ink, touching her and tracing the lines. “She’s got a nice ass. Not as nice as yours, though.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s got the classic ass, huh?” Hers was more…real.
“Yours is a double handful. I love it.” He proved it, squeezing her butt hard, making her toes curl.
“Grabby, grabby.” She wiggled, pressed back.
“I know how to hold on, Emmy.” His lips found that spot, the one just under her ear, his tongue flicking a tiny bit.
“Oh… Uh-huh.” Wait. What? It didn’t matter, so long as he didn’t stop. No stopping. In fact, Cotton was like a freight train, gaining speed as he moved down her body. Kind of unstoppable. Every nerve in her body was singing—awake and ready for more.
His breath felt hot and damp against her skin, his lips sliding to the tip of her left breast. His mouth closed around her nipple, and Cotton sucked hard. Em’s eyes flew open, and any thoughts that she might have had in her head just flew out, replaced by a resounding ‘fuck yes’. She might have been begging. She might have been screaming. Hell, she might have died, except that when his fingers slid over her sensitive, naked mound, her clit, it was too damned good to be dead.
He held her there, hanging by the thinnest thread of pleasure. Two fingers slipped inside her, his thumb rubbing her clit over and over.
“C…Cotton. Oh, fuck. Fuck, baby, please. So good.” She’d never wanted someone like this—over and over, again and again.
“I got you.” Voice rough, harsh, Cotton moaned for her, his cock pressing against her leg. He was wet, hot, obviously desperate, but he just kept touching, kissing.
“Gonna…” She twisted, and his thumb caught her ring, just right, shoving her over the edge into a shuddering orgasm that seemed to set her on fire.
“Fuck, Emmy. I swear, when you do that, you’re the most beautiful thing I ever seen.”
Oh.
Oh, man.
She got a little fluttery, so she pulled him into a kiss, thanking him and shutting herself up, all at the same time.
Lips warm and damp on hers, Cotton kissed her like a starving man. His wet fingers trailed up over her belly. She kept the kiss going as she reached up, found a condom and worked it open. It didn’t take long to ease the rubber over his cock, fingers measuring him from tip to base, then up again.
He gave a short, sharp grunt, his hips rocking up. His hands opened and closed. Damn.
“In me. Want you.” It had been weeks.
“Yeah. Okay, honey. Okay.” His hips slid between her legs, pressing her thighs wide open.
She rubbed him along her slit, the white-hot sensation making them both jerk and buck.
“Now, honey.” Cotton had that teeth-gritted, trying to hold on, wild-eyed expression. He pushed into her, a tiny inch to begin with.
“Don’t tease.” She could take all he’d give her.
“Not. Just gonna lose it, I’m not careful.” He pushed the rest of the way in, giving her his whole length.
“Oh…” She arched up, hips pushing down. Fuck, that was perfect.
“Uh-huh. So tight, honey. You feel so good.” Cotton finally started to move, in and out, up and down.
Her hands touched everywhere they could—sliding down to cup his ass, over the scars on his belly, down to stroke his cock where it moved in her.
“Emmy!” The skin under her hands felt red hot, his whole body one tense muscle. God, it was blistering.
“Yeah. Baby.” She nodded, lips on his jaw. She felt him everywhere.
“You feeling it, honey?” He grinned up at her, eyes bright, a smile curving his mouth. “Told you I got you.”
“You do. You…you know how to ride.”
“No, no, honey. That’s you. I told you, I would pay money to see you on a mechanical bull.” His words came all short and jerky, a sharp breath in between each.
“If you want.” She was easy. Really easy. And his.
“I-I want. I want… Oh, Christ.” His heels drummed on the bed, his hips slamming up against her.
“Anything.” The scary part was she meant it.
“Now, honey. I cain’t hold on.” His eyes went wide, and Cotton bucked for her, pretty as anything. She tweaked his nipple, riding him out, aftershocks rocking her.
“Wow.” He shuddered, his nipple hard as a rock. “Just…damn.”
“Yeah.” She leaned down, kissed that little pink bit of flesh. “Glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” His hands lingered on her hips, fingers stroking. “Me, too.”
Em sighed happily, resting for a second. She’d get up soon, feed him, but right now, she was happy and full, sated. Warm.
Sort of stupid in love.
Chapter Seven
Cotton whistled a little, the toothpick in his mouth making the sound warble. He leaned against the wall outside the old office, the wood floor creaking under his boots.
Fractal Monkeys. Really? Who in the name of hell named their business something like that?
“Don’t be an utter fuckhead, Dyson. She’s got tits, but that doesn’t make her incapable of leading the team on the fucking thing!” The words were loud, almost as loud as the door slamming into the wall
as two guys stormed out. Two identical guys, except one wore board shorts and a tank top and the other was in a suit.
Suit guy grabbed the guy in the shorts and slammed him up against the wall. “Are you fucking accusing me of being sexist?”
“All I’m saying, dude, is that you’re unnaturally anti-boob.”
“And you’re fucking obsessed with them.”
“Maybe, but not hers because, dude, she’s…” Board shorts shrugged. “Like sisterly boobies.”
“Like you’d know dick about sisters.”
“Well, you know way more dick than boobies.”
“Boys, you’re echoing.” Emmy came out, dressed in a pretty little black and white dress with the most amazing heels. “And Dyson, you have problems with women, get the fuck over it. Carson, you just have problems, and don’t even think about my boobs. And I’m taking lead on this project, so suck it up. Hey, baby!”
She waved and smiled at him.
The one she called Carson glared at her. “I was on your side.”
“Why did we hire you again?” Dyson wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Cotton.
“Because I’m brilliant, wicked funny, and I knew how to tell you apart. It’s a twin kink, you know?” Those pretty eyes smiled at him. “Twins love to feel like individuals.”
Cotton opened his mouth, then closed it again. Come to think of it, the one thing they didn’t have on tour was twins. So he just shrugged and smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey. You ready for lunch? Dy, Carson, this is Cotton.”
“Cotton.” The suit held out one hand, eyes sorta…staring hard.
“No poaching, Dy. Not queer.” Emmy sounded very sure.
Cotton shook hands, grinning. “Nope. Not even my left pinkie toe. You’re looking for a cowboy, though, I can hook you up.” Gar would know who wanted what. All Cotton had to do was make a call.
“Oh, Emily. He’s adorable. I could put him in my back pocket.”
Carson gagged.
Cotton shook hands with the dressed-down twin, too, shaking his head. “Scary, huh?”
“You have no idea.” The guy grinned. “Emily says you ride bulls. That rocks, although how salt of the earth met queen of the night, I don’t know.”