CowSex

by Lesley Jones

  “Loved it.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll show how much later, along with everything else I plan on showing you.”

  He bites down on his bottom lip and shakes his head. “No showing, tonight’s all about the doing, Gracie.”

  “It’ll be a bit of both. I’ll show you how much I loved your song by doing things to you that are gonna rock your world.”

  “More than the cheesy beans on toast did.”

  “Oh, so much more.”

  “Okay then, best you stop yacking right now, ’cause I need to get back to our table before my dick gets so hard that I take someone’s eye out with it.”

  He turns me around, smacks my arse, and walks closely behind me as I lead the way back to our table.

  OUR GROUP HAD GROWN OVER the course of the night. A couple of girls who were friends of Mason’s have joined us, and one of them knows of my blog and our designs, so we’d been chatting for a bit about our favourite designers. Eventually, a cheer goes up, interrupting our conversation. I assume the band is coming back out on stage after their break, but it’s a song that has just come on the jukebox that seems to have everyone happy.

  The dance floor becomes packed, as people start to form lines and move in formation, but this isn’t like any line dance I’ve ever seen in my life. The men in our group start to urge Koa on, telling him to get out on the floor. Shannon appears at my side.

  “You think you’ve seen his moves, just you wait, girlfriend.”

  Koa turns to me, drains his drink, passes his empty glass to me, shrugs as if to apologise, and heads to the dance floor. This time, it sounds more like a roar as everyone surrounding us, claps, whistles, and stamps their feet in approval.

  I watch.

  I die.

  I thought his singing was sexy, but oh my days, his dancing?

  I don’t know how I’m still upright as Koa jumps, slides, and criss-crosses his feet before pivoting, and then......and then he rolls his fucking hips, and I am done!

  Done!

  Gone!

  Bang in love and I know there is no going back.

  My eyes fill with tears, and I fight to stop my chin wobble as I watch him. I’d been with Reggie for five years, but never, at any stage of our relationship, not even at the end had I been hit by a tidal wave of emotion like this.

  I swipe tears away from under my eyes at the same time as I smile and laugh at Koa’s moves and everyone’s reaction to them.

  I’ve fallen in love with a hip-thrusting, gravelly voiced cowboy, who chose to work on a building site and not travel with his band so that he could retain custody of his daughter and be there for his son.

  I am almost choking on whatever it is that seems to be lodged in my throat and gulp down my wine in an attempt at dispersing the sensation.

  The song ends, more cheers, back slaps, handshakes happen, and then he’s right in front of me.

  Me.

  He’s mine.

  “Get your coat, call a cab, Uber, Batman, I don’t fucking care, we’re going.”

  His glassy eyes are on me, his skin has a sheen of sweat coating it, and he’s grinning a sexy grin.

  “Am I about to get lucky?’

  “You are about to be blessed by the Gods of blowjobs and multiple positions. We are about to rewrite the Kama Sutra.”

  He reaches for my coat that’s hanging on the back of my stool and helps me put it on before grabbing his own. Without saying goodbye to anyone, he laces his fingers through mine drags me through the crowd, out the door, and into the car park, thankfully there is a line of taxis waiting, and the bouncer calls one over as soon as Koa gives him the imperceptible nod that says ‘we need a cab’.

  As soon as we slide into the back, he’s pushing my palm down onto his rock hard erection. He gives the driver our address, and I’m grateful for the darkness as Koa continues to move my hand over him at the same time he rubs his hand over the top of the inside of my thigh.

  The driver engages Koa in conversation. They talk, I rub and silently hate denim, it’s thickness, durability, and its inability to magically vanish when required.

  We almost fall out of the cab in our rush to get inside the cabin.

  Koa has me pressed against his front door as he attempts to unlock it while grinding his hard-on into the crack of my arse.

  His hands slide around my waist to stop me from falling when the door flies open. Still behind me, Koa walks us through the hallway, up the stairs, and into my bedroom.

  My room again, not his.

  Don’t go there, Gracie. Do. Not. Go—

  He’s fucked other birds in that bed, I just know it. That’s why he doesn’t want me in there. He’s just being considerate of my feelings. That’s something at least, I s’pose.

  Before I can think any further, we become a frantic tangle of arms, legs, and clothes in our rush to get naked. Koa’s mouth seeks out mine intermittently, and I love the fact that he can’t wait until we’re fully undressed before he needs the contact between us again.

  Each of my boots crashes to the floor as Koa pulls them off, toes off his own, and undoes his belt buckle.

  I pull my cream off-the-shoulder cashmere jumper—a thirty quid bargain from Zara last spring—over my head and then lean back on my elbows to enjoy watching the Koa Getting Naked show.

  My mouth goes dry when he reaches over his head and pulls his top off in that oh so sexy way that some men do.

  He drops it to the floor and looks down at me. His eyes dart over my face and then down to my La Perla, Peony, tulle and satin bra—this, unfortunately, was not a bargain and cost me a whopping four-hundred quid, but judging by the look on Koa’s face right now, it was worth every fucking penny!

  He leans in and kisses me, much more gently this time. His tongue dances and tangles with mine as he unbuttons my jeans, pulls down the zip and slides them down my hips. He breaks our kiss to give me room to lift my bum so he can pull them off. Then he takes a small step back and takes in every inch of my underwear-clad body.

  I reach out and unbutton his jeans, he watches me, so I keep my eyes on his as I pull down the zip, slide my fingers inside both his jeans and boxers at his hips, and pull them down.

  His throat moves as he swallows and then bites down on his full bottom lip as he stamps his way out of his last remaining clothes.

  His cock is right in front of my face, my fingernails are now digging into his firm arse cheeks, and my eyes are still looking up at his.

  Without breaking any of our points of contact, I take him in my mouth. He blinks rapidly and sways slightly on his feet before letting out a hiss and tilting his head back towards the ceiling.

  I suck and then flick my tongue over the slit of his tip. He tastes slightly salty and of something distinctly Koa. I breathe in through my nose and absorb the clean smell of his body.

  Knowing that he’s enjoying having my mouth on him boosts my confidence. I’m not the biggest fan of blowjobs and dish them out sparingly on birthdays, Christmas, and when I’m utterly trollied.

  But right now, having this big, alpha American standing in front of me, it’s something I really want to do. Plus, I’ve felt a complete lack of control over almost every aspect of my life recently, especially since landing here, and this moment right now, is a chance for me to gain some of it back.

  I slide my left hand around from his arse cheek, to his cock.

  I grip him firmly.

  I stroke him slowly.

  All the way up. All the way down.

  Oh so slowly.

  Koa reacts with the tiniest of thrusts forward, and I know that he’s fighting not to face fuck me.

  His gaze finally comes back to meet mine, and he smiles down at me.

  “You lied, Essex.” My eyebrows shoot up and then tug down into a frown of confusion. “There’s nothing wrong with your left-hand action, baby, nothing at all. But if you don’t stop what you’re doing to me with your hand and your mouth right no
w, this is gonna be over before it even gets started.”

  I move my head back slightly, allowing his cock to slide from my mouth. Koa moves quickly then and is all over me. Off comes my bra and, then my matching knickers, and then his arms are at my waist and positioning me farther up the bed. He slides between my legs, taking his weight on his forearms as his chest hovers above mine.

  We kiss, much slower now. We stroke and lick and suck. Fingertips, hands, tongues and mouth, anything that we can utilise to maximise the sensation, we do.

  I’m drunk, not only on the wine I’ve consumed but on him and everything he has me feeling. When his slick body slides inside of mine, I wrap my arms and legs around him tighter, and we dissolve into the bed.

  Vanish.

  Nothing else can touch us.

  Nothing else exists.

  It’s just me and him and what we’re doing to each other.

  I never want to be anywhere else.

  KOA

  I LIE PERFECTLY STILL AND watch her sleep. Her hair’s fanned out over her pillow, the bed sheet, and my arm. Her lips are slightly parted, and her lashes flutter imperceptibly as she dreams.

  About what? I don’t know.

  About me? I can only hope.

  And since when did I start using words like ‘flutter’?

  The house is dark and quiet, the only light coming from the bathroom where I forgot to turn it off after everything went down the way it did last night.

  At first, there was panic and confusion as we realised our mistake. And then it hit me that I didn’t actually care.

  I’d made love to her without using a condom. I’d come inside her without protection, and when I took a moment to process this, everything that I thought I knew about what I wanted from my life changed.

  I don’t care that this is new and unplanned. It’s here, and it’s happening. I have feelings for this woman that I’m not yet ready to deal with. In my gut, I know I want her to stay, to be a permanent fixture in my life. But my head is protesting, trying to force me to listen to the logical, practical Koa like I always do.

  Well, fuck that.

  I want to introduce her to my kids and take her to meet my mom and Bill. For the first time in years, I want to make music and write songs. And, most shocking of all, I can picture a future that doesn’t include me being alone.

  I just need to convince Gracie that this is the God’s honest truth and I’m not just saying it to make her feel better about our slip up last night.

  I don’t care if she’s pregnant. I don’t care if there’s a miracle happening inside her, that cells might be dividing, our baby being made.

  I’ve been responsible and done the right thing my entire life, and this might not be the best of times to act irresponsibly, but I don’t fucking care. I want to plan a future with a woman that I’ve only known a little over a week and don’t give a fuck about anyone else’s views or opinions on the matter.

  This past week has made me realise just how lonely I’ve been since my divorce. Bourbon has been my only friend and not a very good one. That shit needs to end.

  Gracie’s arrival has brought me back to life. She’s cute, funny, hot-headed, and stubborn. But she’s also blunt, honest, and possibly the most interesting person I’ve ever met.

  I was just going through life, trying to do right by my kids and be the best dad I could be. Not thinking too much beyond that. Then she arrived. Gracie, with her funky hair, inked skin, cockney accent, and sexy little outfits, literally crashed into my life, head, and heart.

  Almost since the night I met her, all I’ve thought is, Shit, I’m so fucked. I’ve tried to dismiss it. Tried to make out like it wasn’t there. That I haven’t been thinking and feeling the things that I have, but it’s been like a tune or a song that I just can’t get out of my head, and I can’t ignore it any longer.

  Gracie’s phone vibrates on my nightstand, and I pick it up. If it’s that fucker of an ex of hers, I’m gonna answer and tell him to quit calling. He had his chance.

  “You snooze, you lose motherfucker,” I say quietly while looking at the screen.

  It’s Kod, so I answer the call.

  “Oi. Oi, fanny flaps,” a raspy female voice thunders into my ear. Gracie stirs next to me.

  “How’s life in bumfuck nowhere with the cock-sucking cowboy?”

  Cock-sucking cowboy? And what in the ever-loving fuck is a fanny flap?

  “Morning, Gracie’s phone.” My voice is hoarse from sleep, and I sound even raspier than the person calling as I answer.

  “Oh shit.”

  “No, this is Koa.”

  “Ha, he has a sense of humour.”

  “I’m doing my best, considering it’s only a little after five in the morning.”

  “Well, it’s good to know you can do that, Cowboy, coz that’s just what my girl Gracie needs. Someone that can make her laugh.”

  “Oh, I make her laugh, don’t you go worrying your pretty little head about that, darlin’.”

  Yeah, I lay on the accent, suddenly sounding Southern.

  “Oh, fuck me, no wonder she’s not answering her phone when she’s got you to listen to all day. That accent is banging, dude. Say something else, please?”

  “Who’s that?”

  Gracie croaks from beside me.

  “Kod,” I mouth. Gracie frowns.

  “Such as?” I ask into the phone.

  “Well, you can start by telling me what your intentions are towards my mate. You’ve got her all in a tizzy, and I don’t wanna be coming over there to kick your denim-clad arse if you’re just gonna behave like a fuck boy.”

  “Believe me, I have no clue what a tizzy or a fuck boy is, but I have no intention to behave like one if it’s something that’s gonna upset your mate,” I say the last two words in my best English accent.

  “Oh God.” Gracie groans as she attempts to sit up and cover her face at the same time. “Gimme the phone.” She tries to pull it from my hand, but I twist my body away from her so she can’t reach.

  “Good, fuck boy is never something to aspire to be. And like seriously, mate, you need to work on that accent, it’s shit.” There’s a pause, but before I can get another word in, Gracie climbs naked from our bed and heads towards the bathroom.

  “I’m off to drown myself. Give me a shout when you two have finished dissecting my life,” she calls as I watch her ass sway.

  “So, tell me, what’s the go? She went over there to get her head on straight. Instead, she’s landed in your lap, become an instant fan of Sam Hunt, and has started decorating bedrooms. You do realise that we have a business here that will go to shit if you don’t return her to us?”

  Sam Hunt? Motherfucker. I make a mental note to never introduce her to him.

  “Will it?” My chest tightening at the prospect of having Gracie return to England.

  “The business? Probably not. We have the kind of set up that means she doesn’t have to be hands-on. Why? You thinking of keeping her?”

  “I think I am,” I tell her honestly.

  Silence.

  “You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Well, fuck me, didn’t see that one coming. Is she there?”

  “Bathroom.”

  “Okay, well, if you mean what you say, and I bloody hope for the sake of your nut sack that you do, then please tell her. Tell her, show her. Do everything in your power to make her feel it. Go overboard on the grand gestures, nothing expensive, or extravagant, that’s not what Gracie’s about—”

  “Figured that one out for myself,” I interrupt her.

  “Good, that’s good. But, like I was saying, make her feel like she’s the one. Reggie’s a nice enough bloke, but I just don’t think there was ever that whole wow thing between the two of them. Everything was just amicable and convenient. They slipped into it because it was comfortable. It shouldn’t be like that, Koa. Nobody should just settle.”

  “You’re right, they shouldn’
t.”

  “Can I leave that with you then? To woo her right out of those ridiculously expensive La Perla knickers she insists on wearing? Because it looks like my plans for the day have changed. I need to talk to my girl and then go and buy a hat for your wedding.”

  “You two done?” Gracie is walking towards me wearing a plain black T-shirt of mine that was hanging on a hook in the bathroom. It’s the sexiest damn T-shirt I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “Is it okay if she calls back? I have some wooing to do.”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely, Cowboy. Woo away. Yeee-haaaaw.” I wince at her ear-splitting shriek and end the call.

  Gracie is standing beside me at the edge of the bed, expecting her phone back. Without a word, I throw it down onto the mattress and pull her into my lap, kiss her softly on the mouth, and then bury my face into her neck.

  She smells of mint and me.

  “You brushed your teeth, did you use my toothbrush? I think I left it in here yesterday and took yours to the other bathroom by mistake.”

  We need to stop with this separate room shit. She’s mine, we’re together, and I want her in my bed.

  “Nah, the bog brush. Tasted much better.”

  She gives me a toothy grin. “Do I have any brown bits in my teeth?”

  “What the fucks a bog brush?”

  “What you clean the toilet with.” She smiles at me sweetly.

  “Wait—you—I don’t have a toilet brush.” I shake my head at her warped sense of humour and dig my fingers into her ribs as punishment. Her whole body bucks, and we both almost flip off the bed.

  I pin her down with my body as she tries to wriggle out from under me. I’m hard in an instant as her legs lock around my hips and her torso rolls from side to side. I hold both her hands in one of mine above her head and tickle her mercilessly.

  She shrieks and laughs but then shouts, “Stop, Koa, stop. You’re hurting my wrist.”

  I release her, feeling panicked and within a split second, she has my hair gripped in one hand and my beard in the other. She pulls on both, in opposite directions.

  “Owwww.” I groan. “That fucking hurts.”

  “Oh my God. You sound like a girl.” She giggles, making my dick even harder.