by Stuart, Amie
"Because that's a man's song!"
"Who says?"
Zack picked out the first few notes on the piano, making the decision for her. His way of saying he didn't care if it was a 'man's song.'
She sang—everything from Aretha Franklin to Loretta Lynn to more Miranda Lambert and Sugarland—laughed, joked and teased with all of them.
As he'd watched her tonight, it had finally, really, dawned on him that their emails had barely scratched the surface of Jessa Stratton. Which he should have known after yesterday's revelation. She was loyal and had a tender heart. Doubts, fears, hopes and dreams. She could be playful, she could be deep, she could be loud. She wouldn't let herself be limited by her size or her sex. And she was a fighter.
***
By the time the bar finally closed, he was exhausted and completely in love with his singing, semi-shy, very retired cowgirl.
"Why didn't you tell me you could do that?" he asked as he led her toward his truck.
"I wasn't a hundred percent sure I could," she confessed with a shy smile. "It's one thing to sing in a truck, this is different."
He draped an arm around her shoulder, brushed her long, silky hair out of the way and thoughtfully stroked her neck with his thumb. "Well, we've got us quite a little pickle. As far as that crowd in there's concerned, you're hired."
"But?"
"Did you have fun tonight?"
"Yeah," she said with a sleepy smile.
"Good. You tired?"
"Not really." She shook her head. "Relaxed, very relaxed, but not tired." She stopped then, her hand in his, and tilted her head back. "It's beautiful isn't it?"
Overhead, the night sky was velvety black, dotted with stars and unmarred by the light from nearby San Antonio.
"Yes, it is." He leaned past her and opened the truck door. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything." She climbed up on the truck seat, then pulled her hair over her shoulder.
"What are you gonna do?"
"Now? I'm going—"
"No. With the rest of your life? I'm curious. You've got a place in the band if you want it, but it won't pay the bills." He paused, determined to choose his words carefully. "I'm guessing with a rodeo pedigree like yours, you can pretty much write your own ticket. So, what do you want?"
In other words, why in the world would someone like her want to stay in a town like Bluebonnet and, of course, with him? And did she even want to stay at all?
She sighed and nodded in apparent understanding. "I want to breed horses. I already have a small string back home at my dad's place, but I need my own place, ya know? My own land. I have no desire to do anything related to rodeo. To be honest, it'll be a long time before I can even watch one. I know it's weird; it's been my whole life for thirteen years. To answer your question, I can breed horses anywhere: Montana, Utah—"
"Here?"
"Here," she echoed with a shrug. "But I want my own land."
"Dad's got plenty of land."
"I'm sure your dad's ranch is nice, but it's his land, not mine."
He leaned in, tilted her chin up and planted a soft kiss on her lips. "And tonight? What are you gonna do tonight?"
"Take you home with me, of course."
***
Thirty minutes later they stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room, the heavy necking session they'd been having temporarily suspended for something more serious. He'd dragged Jessa off the bed and now stood behind her, his fingers quickly unbuttoning her shirt. His had been discarded a few minutes earlier.
"How can you stand there and say you're not beautiful," he murmured, watching her. His painful erection would just have to wait.
"I know I'm pretty, Zack, but not beautiful. That'd be my sister Caron."
He ignored the sister comment, intent on slipping the shirt off her shoulders, then on getting her jeans off until she stood in front of him in only her panties and bra.
The expression on her pink face could only be called embarrassed. He didn't doubt Jessa wanted him, but her sudden painful bashfulness had caught him off guard. The sight of her almost naked, the feel of her warm skin under his fingers, made him ache to be inside her.
"Close your eyes." His thumbs slid up her spine to the hooks on her bra while he watched to make sure she did as he'd asked. Goosebumps prickled her skin as he slid the plain cotton bra down her arms and let it fall to the floor. Jessa kept her eyes closed, her body now resting against his.
She had another scar on her shoulder. A small one at her hip. Another on her thigh. The rod in her leg.
From an artist's perspective she'd make a wonderful model. Her body had character with the scars, the light dusting of freckles on her cheeks. Heavy, full breasts with large areola and long full nipples. The little mole beside her bellybutton. Her body was compact and surprisingly muscular, something he hadn't thought he'd find appealing.
She stiffened as he pushed the panties off her hips, then kicked them aside. She had a tidy thatch of dark curls between her legs. A tiny waist and heavy bottom. She could have easily posed as a Greek goddess—or a retro-'50s pinup model.
But the heavy breasts and long nipples teased Zack the man, not Zack the artist. He cupped her bottom, stroked her thighs, then slid his hands between them, smiling as she pushed her hips toward him. He hadn't missed the dampness of her curls or the soft little gasp that escaped. She smiled, relaxing heavily against his chest, her long, silky hair tickling him, her eyes drawing him in. Teasing him.
Zack lightly caressed her belly, then higher, making little circles with his fingertips, exploring the supple texture of her skin, enjoying the sound of her increasingly heavy breathing. She sighed and licked her lips when he skimmed the sides of her breasts with his knuckles.
"Open your eyes."
She did, licking her lips again, her eyes flickering from his face to their images in the mirror.
"What do you see?"
"I'm naked," she softly replied, her eyes seeing but not really focused on either one of them.
"Look again."
"Why?"
He stopped her attempt to turn and face him. "Just look," he whispered against her hair. "Do you masturbate?"
Her eyes widened, but he understood completely. He'd surprised even himself.
Zack licked his lips and pushed forward. "Do you touch yourself? When you're in the shower? And all warm and slippery?" The image he'd painted was distracting even him. He wanted to pull her back against his erection and rub against the lush cheeks of her derriere, bury his fingers between her thighs and find out how wet she was. Taste her. Feed off her. But he didn't. He waited.
Their eyes locked as Jessa nodded. He wrapped his fingers around hers and they touched her together. Her belly tightened, tensing under his fingertips as their fingers slid lower. "Spread your legs."
She did, adjusting her stance.
They stroked her thighs, her damp curls.
"Oh my God," she moaned.
They stroked her hips, and her bottom, her waist and higher.
"What do you see?"
Together they cupped her breasts, gently rolling and tweaking her nipples. He pressed his hips against her bare buttocks, his cock strangling on denim.
The sight of them in the mirror was nearly his undoing. He nuzzled her ear, reminding himself she was a virgin—maybe not innocent but still a virgin. They had hours though, all night to get to where they wanted to go. "Do you see what I see?"
"Us. Oh, God." They touched her chest, her neck. Even her face, her hands cupped in his as he rubbed her soft cheeks. A hot tear burned his finger. "Touch me, touch me, touch me," she panted, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her fingers tangled with his.
Enough.
On the bed once more, he latched onto one dusky, puckered nipple, then the other, sucking both lightly. Her short nails scratched at his back and she yanked his hair free of the band holding it back, her fingers kneading his scalp as they kissed hot and deep, devouring each other.
Underneath him, she shifted, spreading her legs wide, and he rocked his hips against hers, reveling in the heat, in rubbing his cock against her. As if the friction would ease his frustrations. It didn't. Or hers either, obviously. She fisted her hands in his hair and kissed him harder, her hips moving faster under his until she stiffened and bucked underneath him a few heartbeats later.
The kiss gentled as she eased down off that cloud, loosened her grip on his hair and slowly relaxed against the mattress. Her orgasm had taken enough of the edge off for her that he could play at will.
His own edge was a whole 'nother matter.
But he'd worry about that later. He licked and kissed every inch of her neck, her chest, nipped at her ears, buried his face in her lush breasts. Her sighs were his reward. So he ignored the uncomfortable weight of his balls and pushed on until he'd tasted and kissed every inch of her. Until she turned frantic again.
About the time he licked the back of her knee.
Chapter Fifteen
Jessa
I was dying. I lay there wetter and hotter than I'd ever been in my entire life. And completely out of my element. For once in my life, I couldn't lead. I could only follow. And I didn't care.
It was a humbling feeling, but at the same time, a part of me was ready to follow Zack anywhere.
I trusted him implicitly, and to such a degree, it scared the bejesus out of me.
He'd been gentle, tender, patient. Hadn't said a word at my earlier orgasm. Had only touched me and kissed me. Hadn't let me be embarrassed at my nakedness or his own. Solid, muscular and thick, a naked Zach was a sight to behold—whether he knew it or not. So was his erection.
He'd kissed away my tears and not even asked why. As if he'd known it wasn't necessary to, though I probably couldn't have told him if he had asked.
He stretched out beside me, kissing me softly, teasing my lips, his goatee tickling my chin.
Then he watched me, skimmed my belly and thighs with his knuckles, his touch so light I barely felt it. My eyes drifted shut and I gasped. His warm breath caressed my shoulder, followed by his lips. I rubbed my legs against him, pulling him closer until his erection was pressed against my hip.
I felt energized and weak, alive and dizzy, all at the same time. "Please," I begged.
"Soon," Zack whispered, the palm of his hand pressing into my belly, then lower between my thighs.
My hips bucked of their own free will and I whimpered loudly, unable to catch my breath as he slipped a hand between my thighs and lazily traced my contours, as if he were memorizing each fold and ridge until, watching me, he slid one finger inside. I could feel my muscles contract around him, and I squeezed my eyes shut as one long moan slipped past my lips.
God, please don't let me come yet.
"Now," I panted, my fists balled up in the sheets. "Please."
We were skin to skin but it wasn't enough. I needed him inside me.
He reached over on the nightstand for a condom, and once it was in place, settled between my legs again.
Looking at me, he asked, "Ready?"
I nodded, unable to hold back a small whimper of need, not pain.
"Sure?"
"Yes," I whispered, nodding again. I'd never been more ready for anything in my life.
His cock gently invaded soft, wet flesh and I understood why he'd made me wait. I bit my lip and held my breath at the sensation of being stretched.
"Relax," Zack whispered, then laughed harshly. "God, you feel good."
I took a few deep breaths, willing myself to do as he said. The tension eased.
"Better?" he asked.
I nodded and he pushed a little further and then a little more. The tightness was still there but fading quickly, to be replaced by something else.
Taking a deep breath, the only word I could form was his name. "Zack!"
"Easy, honey," he said, withdrawing a little.
"No!" I grabbed for him.
"I'm not. It's okay." His thumbs gently stroked my temple.
I moaned, and he smiled. His hips set a slow, steady rhythm I quickly got lost in. He led, I followed. The callused pads of his fingers lightly tweaked and rolled my nipples, sending electrical currents straight through me while his lips left the lightest kisses on my face. I bucked, squeezing him tight.
He moaned and shuddered above me, and I sensed the smile on his lips, relaxing fully for the first time.
"More?"
I nodded, and he steadily increased his pace. He stretched out over me and wrapped his arms around me. We rocked, both of us sweating and panting. I locked my arms around his neck and leaned up to nip at him. He moaned, shuddered and increased his pace again, driving into me harder and faster.
In some distant part of my mind it registered that I had as much control as he did. But now wasn't the time to explore that.
"Zachary," I begged loudly, pulling his hair.
"Yes, baby. Come on… Hurry. We're almost there," he whispered against my lips.
I moaned against his mouth and Zack kissed me. His tongue mimicked his cock and I countered with my own as my climax approached again, like a freight train out of control. The intensity of it was frightening as it overtook me. I couldn't stop my tears as I let go, so I squeezed my eyes shut instead, clawing at his back, unable to stop myself. My hips thrust against his until it was over and I clung to him, weak and spent, and a little embarrassed but unwilling to let go.
"Look at me," Zack murmured from above me.
I did, smothering the last of my tears and locking my fingers around his neck as I watched him climax. I tried to memorize the expression on his face, the look in his eyes as they locked with mine. Then closed, shutting me out when he thrust hard and deep, his own release overtaking him.
"Are you alright?" he panted against my ear a few minutes later.
I nodded, still out of breath, my bones feeling like butter. I couldn't remember ever feeling so close to another person. And not just physically close. As much as I wanted to savor the feeling, it also frightened me. While Zack excused himself to dispose of the condom, I swiped at my face and curled up on my side, nervous all over again when he rejoined me a few minutes later. We lay there quietly for the longest time, me tucked up against his side, wondering what I should say as I drifted off.
***
I was woken up by the ringing of my cell phone and the discovery that Zack was gone.
"Hello." I groaned, stretching out tight, disused muscle.
"Jessa?"
My eyes flew open and I was immediately jerked out of my warm post-coital cocoon. "Jace?"
"Where the hell are you?"
"Didn't we have this conversation just a few days ago?" I groused, wondering where Zack had disappeared to. I hadn't even heard him leave.
"Yeah, and you were in Salt Lake, but you're obviously still not home, because, and I quote, you don't know where you need to be, and I didn't want you to hear about Colby from anyone else."
The sudden twist in my gut had me struggling out of bed and scurrying to my suitcase for a nightshirt. "How bad?" I might hate his guts but that didn't mean I wished ill on him.
"He'll live. Broken wrist, a couple broken ribs. He got hung up in his riggin' then trampled after he broke free. He had his Kevlar vest on though, so he's good. I just didn't know how you'd take it."
Colby had plenty of skills and had been taught by one of the best—Daddy's best friend. But he didn't have near enough respect for himself or anyone else, along with a serious lack of discipline and moderation. It was only a matter of time before fate caught up with him in some form or fashion and he ended up like me—or worse.
I switched on the coffee pot, then caught my reflection in the mirror. My serious case of bed-head was topped only by my raccoon eyes. "Were you afraid I'd have a nervous breakdown or something at the news? At just hearing the 'R' word? Damn, Jace!"
"That conversation with you the other day really made me wonder."
As badly as I wanted to h
ang up on him, I stopped myself. "I'm a grown woman. So stop treating me like a baby. I know, I know," I said, my voice softer now. "I nearly died, didn't I? I nearly died last December. And you were there, you had to see it and you had to take care of me. I'll always be grateful," I choked out, my voice thick, "but now, I think I deserve some time to figure shit out on my own."
"I didn't mean—"
"Yes, you did. So, listen up. I love you and I appreciate you calling me about Colby, and worrying about me, but I am not a piece of glass, Bubba."
"Fine." He sounded a lot more subdued now and more than a little sad. Sad as I felt. "Okay. So where exactly are you? Can I ask that now? Am I allowed to worry about you?"
"Texas. Now, keep me posted on Colby." I went to hang up when Jace's voice stopped me.
"Caron and Cutter…"
"Yeah," I sighed. "I know."
"About the shotgun wedding?"
"No, I didn't, but I think I'll skip this one." We said our goodbyes and finally hung up. Relief warred with sadness as I set down my phone. Relief that Jace finally, hopefully, understood; relief that I finally, hopefully understood, or at least was beginning to. Sadness as I realized that a part of me wasn't done grieving and no amount of great sex or even planning a future with Zack would negate that. Sadness that such a huge part of my life was over and that life as I knew it would never be the same again. Sadness that it seemed to have all ended with a whimper and a titanium rod.
No sooner had I emptied my bladder and poured myself a cup of coffee than my phone rang again. My growl of frustration died at the sight of Zack's number. "Good morning."
"Mornin', sunshine. Did you find my note?"
"No, I just got up." Now my gut twisted for a different reason. I caught myself smiling in the vanity mirror but was too far gone after last night to do more than raise my coffee cup and toast myself.
"I just didn't want you to think I was the sort to up and leave with no explanation. Shame on me for letting her, but Momma tends to rule things with a pretty tight fist. It was easier to leave you before sunup than deal with her. Okay, no it wasn't easier, but I saved the both of us a lot of future grief."
I giggled in complete understanding, then sipped my coffee. "It's fine. I just hadn't seen your note yet."