by Неизвестный
The hard-ass Jaelynn-Sue the rodeo circuit speaks of makes an appearance, Logan thought as he bit back a smile. Her dig at his honor was merely her way of hiding the truth, that his concern did touch her, that what was about to happen between them had suddenly gone from the prospect of a quick fuck for a night to the possibility of more come morning. A man didn't just fuck a woman like Jaelynn-Sue Murphy, a woman who'd chosen him after nearly three years of no sex, and then simply walk away smiling, grinning like a loon or otherwise.
Logan moved his hand to her ass, evenly distributing her weight on both his arms and, gaze locked with hers, drove his cock balls deep inside her pussy. Moans turned to cries of mind-blowing pleasure, breaths turned to ragged bursts of air as they struggled for what little oxygen seemed to remain in the room.
He barely registered the decision to move, the act of walking the few short steps around the edge of the sofa so that he could brace her weight against the wall of the trailer. Then he fucked her. He could think of no other word to describe the animalistic way he slammed his cock inside her tight pussy. Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, possibly drawing blood, likely leaving a mark. She made a sound that might have been pain, definitely sounded of pleasure and he wanted to stop, tried to, couldn't.
Christ, he didn't want to hurt her, but his body had gone out of his control. He'd become a man possessed by his desires for her, his needs, and the frightening thing that happened in his chest the instant he'd plunged his cock into her fiery depth.
"Logan, ah, yes, faster, harder." Her ankles locked around his waist, her heels digging into his buttocks, pulling him against her, riding his cock despite the fact that he pinned her to the wall.
"Jaelynn, baby." He tried to warn her. He teetered on the edge, the release his body so craved clawing its way though his balls and up his shaft like a double-sided, razor sharp spear. "I can't. It's too good. Come for me, honey."
She did. As if all she needed was the order to fall from his lips, her body jerked with it. She convulsed in his arms, her nails biting into his neck and shoulder, her legs creating a death grip around his waist. Her channel started to spasm, milking his cock until his release burst from the engorged head, filling the condom with such a flood he feared it might bust.
Shaking, breathless, utterly spent, he held her to the wall until their breathing slowed and she slowly lifted her head. "The bed is straight down the hall. Think you can make it there now?"
He laughed, a quick burst of air. "Not a chance, darlin'."
She shrugged and laid her head on his shoulder. "Okay, then we'll just stay here till sunrise."
Sunrise, through the day, and into the night, Logan thought as he gathered his strength and slowly started walking them down the hall. If she thought he planned to leave at sunrise she had another thought coming.
Chapter 3
Logan left the rodeo grounds at sunrise. Dawn peeked over the horizon when he walked into the horses' stables on the Cartwright ranch to find Priscilla waiting for him. Despite the turmoil clambering in his head, he forced a smile and went to her.
"Good morning, and how's my favorite lady?"
Priscilla gave a whinny of excitement and angled her head, waiting for him to stroke her mane.
"Is that right?" Logan obliged her, smoothing his palm over her silken ebony locks. "And the youngin? Is he feeling ready to make an appearance yet?" The thoroughbred made another sound remarkably close to almost, and Logan chuckled softly. "Another week or so, huh? Yeah, that sounds about right to me too."
"That horse could just as easily be telling you she plans to stomp a mud hole in your ass in a week or so as have that damned colt."
Logan shot a glance over his shoulder. He hadn't heard his father come into the stables, but saw him now, leaning against the railing by the doorway. "Awe, come on, Pop. You know I'm a regular Doctor Doolittle on this ranch. Wait until next week and see if I'm not right."
"I know you are, but I'd chalk it up more to that education of yours than your ability to talk to that horse."
Yeah, Logan would too, but it didn't hurt to kid around about it. He could stand a little humor this morning, something to take the edge off the irritation and bubbling anxiety that slapped him in the face when Jaelynn woke him before dawn and told him he had to get out.
"You didn't come home last night." His father's words held more curiosity than accusation.
"Sure I did." Logan patted Priscilla on the head and turned to lean against the wall outside the stall. He tipped his chin toward the stable door. "Sun's barely out yet. Most figure it's still night even though the clock reads AM, I'm home, therefore I came home last night."
"Smart ass," Jessup Cartwright muttered and shook his head.
Logan grinned. "And that I learned from you."
"Didn't learn much from yourself though, did you?"
Logan straightened. "What do you mean?"
"You shacked up with that rodeo female last night. What's her name? Jaelynn-Sue Mosley."
"Murphy, and how do you know I spent last night with her?"
"Well, you left the bar with her, didn't you?"
Logan sighed. He had and no doubt all of Jamison County and probably the next two counties over knew it too.
"Heard she picked you up."
"Well, your hearing is just fine, Pop. No need to worry about that hearing aid Ma's been trying to push on you."
"Been telling her that for the past five years. You used protection, didn't you, boy?"
Logan gave his father a withering look. "I'm thirty-five years old, Pop."
"And what, they make an age now where condoms don't need to be used anymore?"
"No, but they made an age on how old a man has to be before talking with his father about sex is taboo. I reached that age about decade or more ago."
"Hogwash. You just don't want to talk about it 'cause you got yourself into some shit with her last night."
"I had sex with her. There wasn't any shit involved."
Jamison nodded. "Except the shit around your heart. Boy, I'm not stupid. You've got pictures of that woman everywhere like a goddamn teenager. Trouble is, you think like a man. Hell, even when you were a teenager you didn't think like one."
No, he hadn't. He'd thought about the future, first planning his life to compete in the rodeo and then altering those plans to take care of the ranch, get married, and start a family.
"Fantasies are healthy. Hell, every man could stand dreaming about a sexy young woman now and then, but trying to make that into anything more is plain stupid."
"Maybe," Logan conceded. "Maybe not." He turned back to Priscilla's stall, opened the gated door, and stepped inside.
"Yeah, that's what I figured you'd say. I had a feeling you'd already let her in. Only happened once before but the signs are there again. I only had to walk through that door to see them." Jamison gestured toward the stable door.
"Am I that transparent?" Logan shot his father a glance and picked up a grooming brush.
"Only to me, son." His father sighed. "You gave up everything you wanted to be here for me."
"I gave up a boyhood dream to be here for the ranch that will take care of me when I'm old like you," Logan countered, but they both knew the truth. If Jamison hadn't had a heart attack, hadn't needed Logan around the farm, Logan would've gone on to follow that boyhood dream.
"Won't do me no good to try to talk you down from this girl. All's I'll say instead is be careful. You've been down that road before, and it was bumpy as all get out, full of pot holes too. No reason to think that road will be paved now just 'cause it's a different woman."
"Maybe." Logan slowly nodded and started brushing Priscilla. "But there's no reason to think a different woman can't lead me down a different road."
* * * *
Jaelynn pulled on Betsy's reins, coaxing the steer-wrestling horse to a stop near the area gate. "Good girl," she muttered soothingly, stroking the horse's mane.
"She's ready, J
ae-Sue. You're ready. You got a helluva time with that one." Roscoe Pallin, her hazer, partner and horse handler, gave a nod back at the holding pen where the steer she'd just taken down now munched on slop. He hooked his arms over the top bar of the gate, his boots planted firmly on the dusty ground. He stood a good six-foot-four inches with a wiry build, ebony skin, hair reminiscent of a bale of hay, and eyes as cool as a winter day in Montana.
"Yeah, not bad," Jaelynn agreed. She'd taken the steer down in five point three seconds. Not her best time, but good enough to place in tonight's show. "Maybe we should do it again, though. We've still got thirty or more minutes until—" She broke off when she looked past Roscoe and spotted the man leaning against a fence post, his hat tipped down, covering his eyes, his arms and ankles crossed. Logan. Her heart sped even as butterflies kicked up a delighted dance in her belly. "On second thought, Roscoe, why don't you take Betsy into the stable? We'll all take the morning off."
Roscoe followed her gaze, tossing a glance behind his shoulder before turning back to face her. "Playin' with the locals? That's not like you, Jae-Sue."
"A girl deserves her fun now and then." Jaelynn dismounted and handed over the horse's reins. What was unlike her was the sudden, almost desperate need to be next to Logan Cartwright. Experiencing the longing that moved through her veins and tickled her in places that wept for his touch was not like her at all.
"Careful, girl, you know what your daddy always said about that kind of fun."
"Yeah, take it while you can get it because everybody's fun days are numbered." She stifled a laugh but couldn't hide the grin when Roscoe swore softly.
"That old man never was good for nothin'"
Jaelynn did laugh then, shaking her head as Roscoe continued to mutter about her father being a waste of good cowboy sperm as he led Betsy to the horse's stables. She knew the ornery old goat didn't mean a word he said. He would give her father the shirt off his back without a moment's hesitation. Her laughter turned to a near purr as she walked through the gate and out of the arena, each step leading her closer to Logan.
He pushed off the fence post as she neared, the smile on his lips curving into one of pure charm and tempting pleasure. He didn't walk to her, but hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his well-worn jeans and waited for her to come to him.
"Mr. Cartwright," she said by way of greeting, still several feet from him.
"Miss Murphy." He removed his cowboy hat, revealing hair matted in places, handsomely tousled in others. His gaze, the same penetrating eyes she'd awoken to just before sunrise, raked down her so slowly she actually felt the touch like a physical contact. Jesus save her, she wanted that contact, needed it, hungered for it.
"What are you doing back so soon?" And what took you so long to get here? She didn't put voice to the second question. He didn't need to know how badly she'd been dying to see him again, to feel him again, to have him again mere seconds after she'd sent him away. She hadn't wanted anyone to see him. That had been part of the truth, but the whole of it was the hours she spent with him last night scared her shitless. In one night, a few short hours, this man had touched something inside her, opened places so deep within her she hadn't known they existed and didn't have a clue now how to close again.
"I hoped you could give me a little tour behind the scenes. You know, show me around in the daylight where I won't get shot by your protectors and can get a real feel for the rodeo life."
I've got something you can get a feel of and it isn't rodeo life, cowboy.
The olive green t-shirt he wore fit like a second skin to his finely toned torso, the short sleeves rolled in cuffs over his biceps. He smelled of musk and testosterone, a heady combination that teased her senses and left her wanting him even more.
"That is, if you have some free time this morning," he added.
He didn't touch her. Why didn't he touch her? He kept one hand on his hat at his thigh, the other with the thumb hooked in his pocket, the friendly stance of a man talking with a woman. But when she stared into his eyes she realized there wasn't anything friendly in the glimmering depths of his gaze. No, what she saw there was hot, starved, and ready.
She made a little show of glancing at her watch. "I think I can spare a few minutes, and I know just the place to start." She took his hand, lacing her fingers with his as she pulled him away from the fence.
He gave a low chuckle and slapped his hat back on his head as he stumbled the first few steps to catch up with her. "I was trying to be discreet. You know that, right? There are other riders out here watching."
"Does that worry you, Logan?" She didn't slow her step, but continued on a direct course for the tack room.
"Only if they are among the many you spoke of who carry a gun and aren't afraid to use it."
"They all carry guns, and none of them are afraid to use it."
"Well, then, that eases my mind a bit."
Jaelynn laughed and yanked him inside the deserted tack, closing and barring the door behind him. "You worry too much, Logan." She braced her hands on his shoulders, rose to her tiptoes and kissed him.
To his credit, he didn't miss a beat. His mouth opened on contact and his tongue dove inside her mouth, tangling with her tongue in a kiss so crazed one might have thought they hadn't seen one another in decades. His hands found her buttocks, cupping them in his palms. He pulled her closer, at the same time bending his knees to put their bodies in perfect alignment for the grinding that drove her to the brink of insanity.
It was utter madness, the way her body responded to that contact. Spasms permeated her nerve endings. Needs pulsated through her core until she wanted to weep from the building desire. His body felt like a rock of solid muscles gyrating against her soft curves, his cock a rod of unyielding flesh pressing at the apex of her thighs.
His kiss turned from one of surprise to a savage pairing in a matter of heartbeats. He consumed her, devoured her until her head felt clouded with the pure sensuality of it and her knees went weak.
"Please," she gasped, tearing her mouth from his to trail her kisses down his jaw and throat. She pushed her hands between their bodies, finding the buckle of his belt and quickly working it free before he realized her attentions.
"Whoa, baby." His laugh sounded of part amusement and part heady hunger. "Jaelynn, are you forgetting where we are?"
"I don't care where we are. I need you now." In the next breath, she had his pants unfastened, the zipper down, and her hand dove inside. She found his cock, impossibly long and gloriously thick, and wrapped her fingers around the shaft even as she pulled it free from the confines of his jeans.
"Ah, God." He sucked a breath through his teeth as she started to stroke his dick, long and measured squeezes of her hand to his steel-like rod.
"Unless you have a problem with that," she teased and nipped the muscle that jumped in his jaw.
"I can't think of a single one."
He released his hold on her ass in favor of unfastening her jeans and shucking them and her panties to her knees. Then his hands gripped her waist. He spun her in his arms so fast it drew a quietly surprised shriek from her lips, and he yanked her against him, her back to his front even as he turned them both until she faced the wall of the tack room. His hands glided up her sides, framing her curves on their rise to her arms where he guided them up to brace her palms on the wall. His hands traveled down once more to her hips, one reaching around her body to find her clit, aching and swollen for his touch.
"Yes." Jaelynn rested her forehead on the wall as he worked her sensitive nub with the pad of his thumb, rolling her clit in a pressured massage that brought the claws of orgasmic bliss climbing up the walls of her pussy.
"Are you wet enough for me, Jaelynn?" His question came on husky breath of equal pain and anticipated pleasure. The tip of his cock grazed the sensitized flesh of her pouty lips, and her back arched in response, writhing in search of the penetration her body sought.
"Yes, now. I want you inside me now, Loga
n."
He didn't make her beg, thank you sweet baby Jesus. His hands left her for the split moment it took him to roll on a condom. Then he obliged her with a single vicious thrust of his cock into her awaiting channel that made them both cry out from the absolute ecstasy of the intrusion. He remembered just how to take her, slamming his erection into her aching wetness until the sounds of bodies slapping and breaths panting filled the tack room. It was a vicious mating, a primal exchange of needs and harmony. Jaelynn's fingers attempted to dig into the wall, seeking purchase, and when that didn't work, she reached an arm behind her to his ass, her nails finding smooth, warm flesh to sink into.
Logan buried his face in the curve of her neck, his teeth grazing the tender skin. His thumb continued its assault on her clit and all the while his cock rammed into her channel, urging her closer and closer to release with each brutal plunge. When it came, the release tore through her with such force that she screamed from the brutality of it. Her body convulsed, shattering around his cock, milking his shaft until she heard his low animalistic growl of his own ejaculation.
Spent, breathless, weak, Jaelynn let her head fall to rest on the wall once more. She closed her eyes, unable to concentrate on anything but controlling her breathing before she started to hyperventilate. She felt Logan's forehead come to rest on the back of her shoulder, his own breathing as ragged as hers. Slowly, his cock slipped free of her pussy, and she felt the absence instantly, her body wanting to seek it again even as it struggled to regain the strength it already stole from her.
"This is crazy," he finally whispered, and her heart stilled.
He was right, of course. This wanting him, the way she'd all but jumped him on sight, it was beyond foolish. Worse, this tingling feeling that swirled in her chest, the fluttering in her belly, the monopolization of her thoughts could be nothing more than idiotic.
"Should I apologize?" She didn't attempt to look at him, wasn't sure she could find the strength just yet to move. She remained with her head against the wall, her eyes closed, and every pulse point in her body registering every minute contact of his skin to hers.