The Cowboy Meets His Match

by Sarah Mayberry

  She had a good map of the interior in her mind, and she quickly identified the bathroom window by virtue of the fact it was set higher in the wall. Walking quietly, she followed the line of the hallway, counting off rooms. The first was Casey’s.

  The second was Jesse’s.

  Setting her boots down, CJ took her courage in both hands and tapped lightly on the glass.

  *

  At first Jesse thought the tapping was part of his dream. Then his conscious brain kicked in and he came fully awake. It took him a second to orient himself and locate the source of the noise: the window.

  Instantly he knew who it was.

  Throwing back the covers, he went to let CJ in, too sleep-befuddled to think about pulling on a pair of boxer briefs or his jeans. Instead, he flicked the lock open and slid the window up.

  “Hi,” CJ said, and he could hear both nervousness and excitement in her hushed voice.

  “Hi.” His brain was catching up with events. He couldn’t believe she was here. Couldn’t believe how freaking lucky he was that she’d decided to take him up on his offer.

  “Were you asleep?” she whispered.

  He smiled. What did she think he was going to do, tell her to come back after he’d gotten a solid eight hours?

  “Get in here,” he said, popping the screen out and resting it against the outside wall of the house.

  CJ climbed over the sill, her long legs making short work of the task. He pushed the window shut behind her, letting the curtains fall back into place.

  “Maybe I should have called but I—”

  He kissed her, stemming the flow of her words, both hands sliding through her hair to cup her head. God, she tasted so good, better than he remembered. Toothpaste and heat and an indefinable something he associated only with her.

  She made a small needy sound, then her arms slipped around his torso as she shifted closer. His hands found her backside, hauling her closer still, the pressure amazing against his already-hard cock.

  Desperate for more, he walked her two steps backward until they’d reached the bed. She scrambled onto it, hands fumbling at the stud on her jeans. He helped her undress, both of them panting with anticipation as he pulled her jeans and underwear off in a tangled rush. Then he was on top of her, his hands sliding beneath her sweater to find her breasts as they kissed with greedy urgency.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him to her as she moved against him. For long, hot minutes they ground against one another, until the urge to be inside her became overwhelming. Rolling to the side, he yanked open the drawer on his bedside table and reached for a condom. His hands were shaking as he tore the foil open, only steadying when he rolled the latex down over himself. CJ’s eyes glinted in the darkness as he rolled back into place, her hands clutching at his ass.

  “Hurry,” she urged, and he obliged her by thrusting inside her with one powerful stroke.

  Her thighs pressed against his hips and he felt the pull of tight muscles deep inside her as she welcomed his invasion. She felt so good, so wet and warm around him, he pressed his face into the soft skin of her neck and groaned.

  “You feel fucking amazing,” he told her.

  “You, too. So good.”

  He started to move, pulling out to the point of almost withdrawal, then thrusting back inside her. Quickly they found a demanding rhythm as he pumped into her, abandoning all hope of finesse as urgency took over. She felt too good, and he couldn’t keep a leash on his own desire.

  Then she tensed, her back arching off the bed, and he felt the telltale flutter as she came. The tremors shaking her body kicked him over the edge and he came in a long, hot burst of pleasure that seemed to last forever.

  They were both panting afterward, their bodies slick with sweat. He could smell the musky saltiness of sex, could feel the small aftershocks still working their way through her body. He rolled to one side, pulling the covers over them both.

  “Fuck…me…” CJ said after a moment, her voice husky with satisfaction.

  “Give me a minute,” he said.

  Her belly and chest shook with silent laughter, and he lifted his head and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

  “Promise me this isn’t a dream,” he said.

  “Pretty sure I wouldn’t be lying in the wet spot if this was a dream,” she said.

  It was his turn to laugh then, and he reached for her, rolling her away from the sex-damp sheet so that she was tucked against his side.

  Her hand snaked around his waist, her palm flattening against his back, and they were both silent.

  “What made you change your mind?” he asked after a beat or two.

  “Who said I needed to change it?”

  “You telling me you weren’t planning on leaving town first thing when I dropped you off earlier?”

  There was a small pause before she responded.

  “It would have been the smartest thing to do.” She sounded rueful.

  “Fuck smart,” he said.

  He’d sacrifice smart for the feel of her body against his any day.

  “Give me a minute,” she said, and he smiled at her echo of his earlier words.

  He ran a hand down her body—shoulder to arm to hip to thigh.

  “You won’t regret staying,” he said quietly. “I’ll make sure you don’t.”

  He felt the press of her mouth against his skin as she kissed his collarbone.

  “Not sure that’s in your power to promise.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’ll show you,” he said. Then he started kissing his way down her body, heading south. “Going to make you feel so good, baby.”

  Then he lowered his head and showed her exactly what he meant.

  Chapter Fourteen

  CJ woke with a start, her internal body clock telling her she needed to be somewhere or do something important today. She immediately registered the hard male body half sprawled across her own, and a stupid smile curved her lips.

  Last night had been incredible. Even better than the first time, which she hadn’t thought was possible. The combination of pent-up need and growing familiarity with each other’s bodies had been incendiary.

  The things he’d done to her…the way he’d made her feel…the things she’d done to him…

  She could feel herself growing warm with the heat of her memories, and she lifted her head to check the time. It was still early, barely five thirty. If she woke him now, they’d have plenty of time for a rematch before she needed to meet her parents in town for breakfast.

  Shit. That was why she’d woken up—she needed to get into town for an early breakfast with her folks.

  “Why’d you just turn into an ironing board?” Jesse mumbled, lifting his head.

  “I’m meeting my parents for breakfast. I need to get back into town.”

  “It’s only twenty minutes from here. No rush.”

  “I’ve got no clothes, nothing. I can’t turn up like this. I need to go back to the B&B, make myself presentable.”

  She wriggled out from under his arm, sliding to the edge of the bed. His arm snaked back around her hips, holding her back when she tried to stand.

  “Wait. You’re going now?”

  “Yep.”

  “But you’re coming back, right?”

  There was an endearing note of uncertainty in his voice, and she looked over her shoulder at him. His hair was sleep mussed, his green eyes drowsy. He had a crease on his cheek from the pillow, and more than his fair share of sexy-looking beard scruff.

  “I’ll be back. But maybe I should stay out in the Airstream, for appearance’s sake.”

  “I was going to suggest that, anyway. For different reasons.”

  “What’s your reason?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  She was getting more proficient at reading him now, and she could tell he was about to say something outrageous.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but no one would ever call you the quiet type, if you get my drift. We’d be doin
g my family a favor, staying out there.”

  She could feel her cheeks warming. “Are you saying I’m too loud?” she demanded, casting her mind back to last night.

  It was hard to remember specifics, but she had the mortifying suspicion she might have been more than a little vocal when he made her come the second time.

  “There’s no such thing. Not in my book. I like hearing you scream my name.”

  He gave her a cocky grin and she dug her elbow into his chest and pulled free of his encircling arm.

  “I didn’t scream your name,” she said. She was pretty sure she’d have remembered that.

  “Not last night. But I’m confident I can get you there again.”

  He was so audaciously confident lying there in all his naked glory, a teasing light in his eyes, she found herself laughing.

  “You’re such a troublemaker.”

  “I’m not the one who came knocking on my bedroom window in the middle of the night,” he reminded her.

  She spotted her panties and bent to scoop them up. “True. That was pretty badass.”

  That made him laugh, a smile lingering on his mouth as she finished dressing. She did one quick scan of the room, then picked up her boots. “I don’t know how long I’ll be with my folks. Will that be a problem? When did Jed want to get started with the fencing?”

  “Pretty sure he needs to go into town to get supplies, so you’re good,” he said.

  “All right. Then I guess I’ll see you later.” She stepped closer to the bed and dropped a quick kiss onto his lips.

  “Hold your horses. I’ll walk you out.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to.”

  She watched with unashamed admiration as he stood and reached for the jeans he’d left on the chair in the corner last night. He had a beautiful body, the muscles honed by years of riding and hard work. She was pretty sure the memory of him pulling his worn, faded jeans over his hips was going to torture her all day.

  And then some.

  Boots in hand, she followed him to the front door, reflecting that this was her third clandestine entry or exit in less than twenty-four hours.

  He opened the door and stepped onto the porch with her. It was still not light yet, and the night air was bitterly cold, biting at her face and hands as she pushed her feet into her boots. Then she realized he was standing there in nothing but his jeans. The big, sexy idiot.

  “Go back inside, it’s freezing out here,” she said, pushing him toward the house.

  “Stop fussing and come here,” he said, hooking a finger into her belt and pulling her toward him.

  His goodbye kiss was long and thorough, and when he finally let her go she wasn’t one hundred percent certain her knees were going to hold.

  “Okay. I’ll see you later,” she said.

  “You will.”

  She took a step backward, then another one, then turned on her heel and went down the steps to the yard. Her truck was even colder than last night and she had to wait until the windshield had defrosted before she could reverse out.

  Jesse stayed on the porch the whole time, only raising a hand and going inside when she started down the driveway.

  “Idiot,” she said, but she was smiling as she pulled onto the highway into town.

  *

  Her parents were waiting for her when she arrived at the Main Street Diner just before eight. She wasn’t surprised—they were notorious for being early to everything—and she gave them both a kiss on the cheek before taking a seat opposite them.

  “Did you guys sleep okay? What looks good?” she said.

  “Someone’s perky this morning,” her mother said.

  “Of course she’s perky—she’s a saddle bronc champion,” her father said.

  “Thank you, darling, I hadn’t forgotten,” her mother said dryly, rolling her eyes a little.

  CJ lifted the menu and gave it a quick glance. “French toast for me,” she said.

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” her mother sighed, pushing the menu away. “I’ll probably just have the oatmeal.”

  She’d gained a little weight in the last few years and was in a perpetual struggle to drop five pounds.

  “You will not. We’re on vacation. And we’re still celebrating CJ’s win. Have whatever you want,” her father said, nudging the menu back toward her.

  CJ couldn’t help being amused. Her mother spent half her life trying to curb her father’s hedonistic tendencies, while he spent half of his trying to encourage hers.

  The waitress came over, the same older woman with the beehive hairdo CJ had noted on her last visit. Her mother was talked into having the French toast, coffee was poured, CJ was congratulated on her win, then the waitress bustled off again.

  The next hour slipped by easily as she chatted with her parents, checking in on their proposed route home, discussing options for rest breaks, then speculating about her chances at the next rodeo.

  Every now and then it hit her all over again that they were here, that the dark cloud that had hovered over her life for the past twelve months was gone. She’d had similar moments last night as they talked and laughed together at Grey’s, and then later at Rosita’s. Her mother no longer had to feel guilty for supporting her, and CJ didn’t have to bear the weight of her father’s disapproval anymore. It was no small thing, and it was going to take her a while to get used to it.

  Amazing what a person could become resigned to. Because she had been resigned to dealing with her father’s opposition. She hadn’t let it stop her, but the awareness of it had weighed on her on a daily basis.

  When they were done with their meal, her father paid and CJ walked her parents to where they’d parked their car on Main Street.

  “You know what? I just realized I never got a chance to look in the cute shop I noticed last night. I’m just going to duck off and take a peek at it. CJ can keep you company while I’m gone,” her mother suddenly announced.

  CJ blinked with surprise as her mother took off, her step brisk, almost as though she was worried they were going to try to stop her.

  “What was that about?” CJ asked.

  Her father had a half-amused, half-annoyed expression on his face. “I made the mistake of saying I hadn’t had a chance to talk to you properly yet, and I think this is your mother’s way of making it happen.”

  “Ah.” Good old Mom, subtle as a sledgehammer.

  Her father gave her a quick glance before shifting his focus to his car keys. “Want to walk for a bit?”

  “Sure.” CJ’s stomach got tight as they turned and started walking slowly uptown. She had no idea what her father was about to say, but it felt important.

  For a moment the only sound was the traffic around them and the scuff of their boots on the sidewalk. Then her father took a deep breath.

  “You probably don’t remember, but you almost drowned when you were four.”

  It wasn’t what CJ had been expecting and it took her a second to respond.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “We were over at Jenny and Mack Tyler’s place. It was summer; we were having a barbeque and a swim in their pool. Your mom wanted to make sure you all had sunscreen on, so we were in the kitchen, coating you kids in lotion, when you and Tommy decided you couldn’t wait to jump in the pool.”

  Tommy was Jenny and Mack’s son, about the same age as her. They’d been firm childhood friends until he’d hit ten and decided she had cooties.

  “You remember that big doggy door the Tylers had? You and Tommy slipped through that thing while no one was looking. I looked up from rubbing lotion into Zach’s back and saw you go straight to the deep end. You just…stepped off the edge of the pool, and you sunk like a rock. No splashing, not a squeak out of you. Of course, I freaked. Tried to get out the door, but my hands were covered in sunscreen. The handle wouldn’t turn. Your mother was screaming; Jenny and Mack were panicking. I finally got the door open, dove straight in and scooped you out. And you
were okay. You said you’d been holding your breath.”

  “Wow. What a naughty little shit I was,” she said, imagining how shaken her parents must have been. “No wonder you and Mom were always so careful around water when we were kids.”

  “You were never naughty. Your problem has always been that you’re fearless. You throw yourself into things. The first time you rode a horse, you just got up there, didn’t hesitate. Even Tyson had to be talked into letting me put him in the saddle the first time, and it took him a couple of shots at it to love it. But you took to it straight away.”

  CJ smiled, knowing how much her tough older brother would hate hearing that.

  “I was actually relieved when you started to get interested in makeup and boys,” her father continued. “Not a lot of fathers that’d say the same, I’m sure, but it kept you out of the kind of trouble that can break a person’s neck. Then last year you came to me and told me you wanted to go for your pro ticket so you could compete in saddle bronc, and honestly, CJ, it was that freaking swimming pool all over again. All I could think about was you getting hurt. Getting your head kicked in, or your back broken. So I reacted badly. I thought if maybe I didn’t encourage you, you’d go off the idea.” He gave a grunt of frustrated amusement. “Should have known better, huh?”

  CJ frowned, reading between the lines of what he was saying. All the talk of her not rocking the boat, of pursuing barrel racing instead of saddle bronc—that had been about keeping her safe, not being worried about what his conservative friends and neighbors might say?

  “I thought you were embarrassed because I was pushing my way into a sport where I wasn’t welcome. Being one of those women who wants to break into the boys’ club whether they want me there or not.”

  “I know. I let you think that, because I figured if I told you the thought of you climbing onto the back of a nine-hundred-pound animal that has been bred and trained to buck scared the living daylights out of me you wouldn’t listen.”

  “I’d have listened,” she said. “But I’d also have reminded you that all the boys competed in rodeo. Tyson broke his arm twice. You never tried to stop him from going back on the circuit.”