The Cowboy Meets His Match

by Sarah Mayberry

  He wasn’t stupid—the likelihood was strong that this would be his one and only night with this amazing woman, and he planned on making it last.

  Gripping her hips, he stroked up into her, taking control of the rhythm. She caught on quickly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she rode him. He slid his hands onto her breasts and squeezed her nipples, feeling the telltale increase in pressure on his cock as she responded to his touch.

  Of course she liked a little pain with her pleasure—she was a bronc rider, just like him.

  He pinched her again, then levered himself up and soothed her with his mouth. Then he bit her, and she laughed and reached out to flick a finger against one of his nipples, hard enough to hurt.

  “Behave yourself, Carmody,” she said.

  She looked so wild and free, her breasts bouncing with each rise and fall of her hips. Capturing one of her hands, he brought it to the neat thatch of curls where he was joined with her. “Show me what you like,” he said.

  Her eyelids dropped over her eyes for a moment, and her breasts lifted as her breath hitched. Then she started to stroke herself.

  It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life—CJ riding his cock, pleasuring herself, her eyes glazed with passion, her chest and face flushed pink. Little strands of hair stuck damply to her temples while the rest of her hair slid back and forth over her shoulders and breasts.

  Fucking magnificent. Sexy as hell.

  And he was gone.

  His whole body grew rigid as he came, driving up into her, fingers clenched into her hips.

  “Cassidy,” he said, her name ripped from his chest.

  Seconds later she tensed around him and he watched as she closed her eyes, her face contorting as she lost herself for the second time.

  She seemed dazed as she came back down to earth. He pulled her down beside him on the mattress, then took care of the condom, wrapping it in a tissue from the box by the bed to dispose of later. Then he pulled the covers up over their bodies and wrapped his arms around her, encouraging her to rest her head on his chest.

  Normally, he wasn’t big on postcoital cuddling, but it would have felt wrong to lie beside CJ and not hold her. And not because they’d just had mind-blowing sex.

  They were both silent for a while, the only sound the distant hoot of an owl somewhere outside and their own slowing breathing.

  “Guess it wasn’t the fuse, then,” CJ finally said.

  He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Must have been something else.” He waited a moment. “Great timing, though.”

  “For sure. Right on cue.”

  Because he couldn’t help himself, he smoothed a hand down her hair, then down her arm to her hip. He loved the way he could feel the muscles beneath her skin, loved the strength of her hard-trained body.

  “How did you start bronc riding?” he asked.

  He wanted to know what drove her, what series of events and circumstances had brought her to this town and this place, into his arms and his bed and his life.

  Even if it was only for the weekend.

  “My dad used to breed horses when we were kids. Just a few, here and there, and me and my brothers used to help break them. I loved it so much, my father used to say I was part monkey, the knack I had for staying on a horse’s back. How about you?”

  “Same. I can still remember the first time a horse tried to kick me off. Pure adrenaline.”

  “Best drug in the world,” CJ said, and even though he couldn’t see her face he knew she was smiling.

  “Take it your father doesn’t breed horses anymore?” he asked before he remembered her telling him earlier that they’d sold the family ranch when she was ten.

  “He couldn’t make it work, and it was really only a hobby. But it was enough to get my brothers and me interested in rodeo.”

  “Your folks must be pretty proud of you after today,” he said.

  There was a small, significant pause before she responded.

  “Yeah. They are.”

  He tucked his chin to his chest and angled his head so he could see her face. “Did I just step on a toe?”

  She smiled slightly. “Not really. My dad isn’t exactly a huge fan of me going pro. I rang to let them know I made it to the short round and spoke to my mom, but he wasn’t around and he hasn’t called back, so…”

  “You know the reception sucks out here? I can barely get a bar on my phone.”

  “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to make it okay for me. It is what it is.”

  “Tell me to butt out, but what’s his beef with you riding?”

  She sighed, the sound both weary and sad. “He doesn’t understand why I’d want to rock the boat. Why I don’t just join the WPRA and go in for barrel racing if I want to do rodeo so bad.”

  “Barrel racing isn’t saddle bronc,” he said.

  “He knows it. He used to ride himself. He knows exactly what it feels like to be in the chute, waiting to give the nod.” She levered herself up into a sitting position, one arm holding the duvet across her breasts. “Hell, he’s the one who taught me how to break a horse in the first place. If anything, it’s his fault I’m like this.”

  He could feel the tension vibrating through her where her thigh was still pressed alongside his.

  “Has he seen you ride?” he asked.

  Because he defied anyone to watch CJ ride and not recognize she was born to it.

  “He came to the first couple of local rodeos where I competed. But he stopped coming once I started winning.”

  “His loss,” he said simply.

  “I keep telling myself that. But it’s hard, not having him on my side. He’s always been my biggest supporter.” She was staring at a spot on the duvet, her thumb rubbing back and forth over the fabric. He caught her hand in his and gave it a squeeze.

  “He’ll come round. He has to. I refuse to believe that the father who raised you isn’t smart enough to be proud of you following your dreams.”

  She stared at him, a stricken expression on her face. Then she blinked rapidly a few times and shook her head.

  “Damn you. You snuck up on me then, nearly made me cry,” she said, a rueful half-smile pulling at her mouth.

  She looked so sweet and sexy, her eyes still glassy with unshed tears. He felt a powerful impulse to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. That he’d make it okay for her.

  It was so out of left field, so inappropriate, so alien to the way he usually felt in these kinds of situations, for a moment he didn’t know what to do or say. So he fell back on something he knew he was good at, reaching out to pull her back down onto his chest, one hand palming the nape of her neck as he drew her into a kiss. She came willingly, her body warm against his, and it only took a few strokes of her tongue for the drumbeat of desire to fire up in his belly again.

  He encouraged her to roll on top of him, and for long moments they simply kissed and explored one another with languid caresses. Then he drew one of her nipples into his mouth and she made a small animal sound that went straight to his cock and suddenly he needed to be inside her again.

  Which was when it hit him that he’d only had the one condom in his wallet.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her hair a dark waterfall across his chest as she lifted her head so she could see his face.

  “We’re out of condoms,” he said.

  “Oh.” She looked gratifyingly disappointed. “Guess we’ll just have to get creative, then.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows, her hand slipping between them to wrap around his erection.

  “Hold that thought,” he said, then he gently disengaged and went on a quick hunt through the drawers closest to the bed.

  After all, Sierra’s friends had been staying here, and they were in their twenties. There was a chance someone might have—

  “Hallelujah,” he said, retrieving an almost-full box of condoms from one of the drawers.

  “Well played,” she said as he rejo
ined her, a single foil square between his teeth. She plucked it from his lips and tore the packet open, then pushed him onto his back.

  He watched as she eased the latex onto his cock, rolling it down with leisurely intent. He waited until she was about to climb on board again before overbalancing her and rolling on top, his hips coming to rest naturally within the cradle of her thighs.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “My turn to be in charge,” he said.

  Then he took hold of his cock and stroked himself along the seam of her sex. She was slick with need already, and she let out a little hum of pleasure as he found the swollen bead of her sex with the head of his cock. He rocked there, back and forth, back and forth, until her hands found his ass. Then he gave in to his own desire and her urging and slid inside her.

  She was so slick and hot and tight he felt his control slip, even though this was the second time and he’d fooled himself into believing he’d have a better grip on his need this time around.

  “Oh, God, that feels so good,” she breathed.

  Her eyes were half closed, her mouth open and pink, her nipples hard with arousal. He stroked into her, deep and steady, watching her face when he was seated deep, loving the way her breath hitched and her knees pressed against his hips. He lowered his mouth to her breast, taking a rosy tip into his mouth. Her hips lifted, urging him deeper, her hands clenching into his ass. He switched to her other breast and slipped a hand between her legs.

  “Oh…wow…that’s… Don’t stop,” she moaned as he started to stroke her in time with each thrust. He’d watched carefully when she pleasured herself earlier and he followed her lead, increasing his tempo as her breathing became more urgent and erratic.

  “Yes, please. Oh, Jesse… Jesse.”

  He’d planned to make her come at least twice before he let himself go but the sound of his name on her lips was too much for him. He thrust into her, over and over, as her body gripped his in tight spasms. Then suddenly he was coming so hard he forgot to breathe, his whole body racked with pleasure.

  He collapsed on top of her afterward, his breath sawing in and out of his lungs, his body damp with sweat. Her hands were still clawed into his back and he felt her grip loosen as her body softened into the mattress.

  After a beat he lifted his head and used one hand to push her hair off her face. She smiled up at him, her eyes soft, her mouth pink and slightly swollen-looking, and he found himself smiling back.

  The smile slowly faded from her lips but he didn’t look away. Now was usually the time when he made an excuse about having to be on the road early, but he didn’t want or need an excuse to leave CJ.

  He wanted to be right where he was, and he wanted it with an intensity and a certainty that should have scared the hell out of him.

  Except it didn’t.

  Chapter Nine

  CJ stared into Jesse’s deep green eyes and understood she was teetering on the brink of doing something even more foolish than sleeping with one of her fellow competitors.

  She was a grown-up. She understood what happened between men and women on the road as they followed the rodeo circuit around. What was happening right now in this bed was sex, and only sex. She needed to remember that, despite how good it was, despite how good he was, despite the way he was looking at her as though he’d just discovered something new and special and precious in the world.

  There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that Jesse Carmody had had more than his fair share of casual encounters in his time on the road. The man was sinfully good-looking, he clearly liked women, and he had charm to spare. Plus he was a rising rodeo star who appeared regularly on the leaderboard. In other words, he was a walking, talking invitation for a woman to park her brain at the door and let her libido take over.

  She might have taken up that invitation, but that didn’t mean she had to compound her recklessness by starting to believe this meant something—because that really would be foolish.

  “Think I might need to use the bathroom,” she said.

  He dropped a kiss onto her lips before rolling to the side. CJ briefly debated trying to find her T-shirt, then gave a mental shrug. He’d already seen everything she had to see. She made the short trip to the bathroom end of the Airstream naked, then shut the sliding door and took care of business.

  She spared a glance for her reflection in the small mirror as she washed her hands afterward. She looked exactly like a woman who’d just had several of the best orgasms of her life with a very sexy and charming man—hair tousled, cheeks pink, eyes more than a little shiny with satisfaction and misplaced hope.

  “Forget about the hope bit,” she muttered to her reflection. “It’s never going to happen.”

  Then she took a deep breath and opened the door. Jesse was lying on his back in the bed at the other end of the trailer, shoulders propped on pillows, arms folded behind his head. The duvet barely covered his crotch, and golden light spilled over his body, showcasing his hard-muscled belly, chest and shoulders.

  Against all odds, she felt a fresh surge of need stir her blood. This man floated her boat, big-time.

  He watched her openly as she walked to the bed, unashamedly studying her the way she’d just studied him. The admiration in his eyes was both flattering and dangerous. If she let herself, she could get very carried away with Jesse Carmody.

  Just as well she had no intention of crossing that line.

  He folded back the duvet for her when she climbed onto the bed and she slipped in beside him. He didn’t hesitate to pull her close, one arm around her shoulders.

  “I guess we should probably try to get a little shut-eye,” he said, his reluctance obvious.

  “We probably should.”

  He leaned across to flick off the overhead lamp as she rolled onto her side. She felt him come in behind her, his arm slipping over her hip, his callused hand sliding up to rest possessively over one of her breasts.

  His chest was hot and hard against her back, and she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck, warm and slightly moist, and it felt so good and right that she had to swallow an unexpected lump of emotion. Unexpected because she knew she wasn’t supposed to feel this way about a man she’d only just met. A man who was going to be her competitor and colleague again come tomorrow morning.

  This is not real, she reminded herself. This is just sex, for one night.

  The thought triggered the realization she’d yet to have a certain difficult conversation with the man wrapped around her body. It was tempting to be a coward and put it off until the morning, when there would be plenty of awkwardness to go around, but she’d never been one to delay unpleasant tasks.

  “There’s something I need to ask you,” she said. Her belly muscles tensed but she tried to keep her voice casual, relaxed. “Tomorrow, when we’re at the rodeo… I can’t afford for the other guys to know about this.”

  There was a long pause before he responded, the only sound the gentle tap-tap of rain hitting the trailer’s roof.

  “You think I’m going to run around bragging about getting you into bed?” He sounded both pissed off and offended.

  “I hope not. You don’t seem like the type of guy who’d do that. But we barely know each other, so I’m asking you directly to keep this private, just between us.” She could hear how stiff and defensive her words sounded, but they were honest words, and she was speaking her truth to him. If he didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to understand that she had a whole different set of pressures and standards hanging over her than he did, then he could exit the Airstream pronto and go back to his own bed.

  “I don’t talk about what’s private. With anyone,” he said.

  She could feel the agitation in him, knew he was lying there behind her, stewing over what she’d said.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to insult you, but if the other guys find out about this, I’m the one who is going to look bad, not you. You’ll get high fives; I’ll get slut-shamed and judged. I’d love for that not t
o be the case, but right here and now that’s exactly the way the world is and I want to have a career in rodeo if I can, not a reputation.”

  She wound up saying a lot more than she’d intended to, and the silence when she finished was profound. Then Jesse’s arm tightened around her fractionally, and she felt the warm press of his lips against her shoulder.

  “Don’t apologize. I get it. It’s bullshit, but I get it, and I don’t want you having to deal with any of that, either.”

  Relief washed through her. Falling into bed with a hot cowboy at her first pro rodeo might not have been the brightest, wisest move she’d ever made, but at least she’d chosen a decent guy to do it with.

  “Thank you.”

  He made a frustrated sound, then kissed the back of her neck. “You don’t have to thank me. Go to sleep.”

  She smiled in the darkness, then closed her eyes. Her body was tired, but her mind was busy and she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to follow his suggestion. She was very aware of him behind her, of all the places where his skin pressed against hers. She could feel each breath he took, each subtle shift of his body on the bed. What were the odds of her being able to tune all that out and slip into sleep?

  After a few minutes, her brain surprised her by slowly slipping into shutdown mode, lulled by the sound of Jesse’s even breathing and the soft pitter-patter of rain on the roof. The last thing she remembered thinking before she fell asleep was that having Jesse Carmody keep her warm was something that would be dangerously easy to get used to.

  *

  She woke to the awareness she wasn’t in her own bed and that she wasn’t alone. For a split second she was alarmed, then she felt the faint rasp as one of Jesse Carmody’s legs rubbed against hers, and a world of sense memories downloaded into her brain all at once.