He squeezed his eyes shut. He could have let her out of there before she turned and saw who he was but, as per usual lately, the thought crossed his mind a second too late.
Besides, he could never live with himself knowing he was the reason some woman went through life terrified she’d once nearly missed being sexually assaulted or worse–afraid of her own shadow. He could hear Rico’s voice in his head, saying God put a challenge before him and he’d have to overcome it if he’s gonna call himself any kind of real man. Maybe this was the Lord’s way of telling him he needed to give up and go home.
She stirred, or maybe it was a tremble, and Brody turned her, hand still firmly covering her mouth as he settled his gaze directly into hers, hoping he could adequately express his sincerity without words.
Desire swept through him. Fuck. Icicles melting in her rich brown eyes said he’d taken her by surprise but it wouldn’t happen again. Her look made him loosen his grip over her mouth and damn if it didn’t make him want to give her anything she wanted. The sustained, twang–y chords of Hell on Heels played across his mind.
Say what you will. I done made the devil a deal.
Brody swallowed hard, barely breathing.
He put two fingers to his lips, and she nodded, breathing like a bull despite the full–on takeover in her expression. His gut tightened with the understanding that any control he had over this situation from now on was only because she allowed it. Brody removed his hand slowly. In the shadowy glow from the runner lights on the floor, she licked her lower lip slowly, as if tasting him.
Well, fuck me.
Not wanting to move another inch, Brody’s eyes flicked to the digital countdown on the panel behind her. The floor lights had been triggered by her opening the door and, while he should having been taking this moment to explain, he found himself at a loss for speech, racing to burn the vision of her into his memory before the lights went out. He took in her red sundress, ruffles playing over full breasts, cowgirl boots that ain’t never seen mud, and the scent of her (now he was breathing deeply again, he smelled cherries along with the vanilla). The whole scene changed the cramped, dusty utility closet, which had been his rock bottom a minute ago, into a warm little haven he didn’t want to leave. He could barely make out the lines of curvy hips hinting at a luscious booty, narrow waist and full breasts. She wasn’t his usual type, yet he couldn’t stop looking, wanting to know where all those curves went.
Time stood still as they stared at each other, eye to eye and still not a word passed between them.
A heartfelt apology seemed caught in his throat. He tried to clear it and speak, but as soon as his lips parted her eyes fell to his mouth and traced a slow path down the snaps of his shirt, his protective vest hanging open, stopping at his exposed cock. His dick betrayed him with an involuntary twitch.
The woman’s eyes climbed back to his as she crossed a hand over of her chest, and hooked a finger in the strap of her dress.
He caught something in her look, a pain similar to his own, but it was gone in a flash and, Lord help him, he was going to see titties. Any sensible thought flew from him. His cock went about rock solid as his eyes flicked to the panel on the wall. Oh, no, no, no! …2…1…
Brody groaned in the dark and she responded with a soft laugh. A gentle hand landed on his elbow and worked its way down the fabric of his shirt to his fingers. Suddenly, his hand was lifted to warm, smooth skin. Her shoulder. She placed her hand over his and held it there a moment. Brody shuddered. She laced the strap of her dress under his fingers and guided his hand over the crest of her arm.
Unbelievable. Brody took over, gliding across her collarbone to the other side, knowing her naked breasts were now just below his hands. He closed his eyes, savoring the flush of heat over his body, his nipples puckering against the fabric of his cowboy shirt.
It was the most alive he’d felt in weeks.
Finally, he had done something right. Brody floated toward her, moving slower than he ever thought a man could move, as if stalking a butterfly. He crowded her, the heat of her body an instant balm, another layer of unexpected lust, as he skirted his fingertips along the sides of her breasts without touching them. She whimpered when he splayed his hands, exploring the breadth of her middle, tickling her belly button and tracing the luscious hollows of her waist with his fingers as his thumbs brushed her belly. She shivered under his hands, and a rush of warmth radiated from his heart like he’d served a meal to a person in need or adopted a puppy or something.
Brody was smiling in the dark and she had no idea. His heart beat a steady upward rhythm as his thumbs swept a slow path, climbing ever closer to the bulbous curve where her breasts arced up and away from her belly. He paused, savoring the moment, the smell of her, the gentle, needy sway of her lovely body towards his.
The stadium, bulls, money and all of his troubles fell away, his focus spiraling down to this small dark space, this single moment in time and the simple, un–sullied pleasure of touching another person. Such philosophical thoughts were usually beyond him, but the slow deliberation of her flesh was opening another part of his brain, a place usually shut down, hardened.
She took a deep breath and her breasts brushed over his knuckles. This time, they both sighed. He allowed his knuckles to drift north, his fingers finally trailing up and over her nipples. A small moan escaped her and for a moment he thought he could sense her restraint, allowing him to explore rather than leaning in to his hands.
He was under a spell.
Who was this girl?
Suddenly he felt her breath on his face, closer than he had thought she was. He leaned closer, moving at such an incremental pace he wondered if their lips would ever touch. But a second later his lips brushed the corner of her mouth, brushed back and forth sideways, feather light, until their lips were aligned and the sweet tasting began.
Brody couldn’t remember ever holding such pillow–y breasts, or kissing such a tasty mouth. Maybe this was what forced celibacy did to a man–heightened all his senses back up to where they were when God first let Adam taste Eve. Their tongues glided, filled, caressed. He wanted to smell and taste every part of her. His hands slid down silky skin and, though he had felt them already, he gasped again when he felt the weight of those heavy breasts against his palms. He rubbed the pads of his thumbs over her nipples, and the woman sucked in a breath and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to guide him down. Brody sucked on the side of her neck, making his way in the dark to her nipples, the tips firm as berries and as sweet on his tongue.
His cock was throbbing. Not wanting to fumble like a high schooler, he took his time finding his way to the hem of her dress, tugging and gathering the fabric slowly until his fingers brushed heated thighs, found the edges of her panties and pulled them half way to her knees. Trailing back up, Brody wasted no time. He sunk his fingers deep into her pussy and groaned into her neck at the wet heat. The woman gave a stuttering gasp, finding his mouth again, lips insistent. She sighed into his mouth and rubbed herself against him like a cat. Even in the dark, Brody knew what she wanted.
He didn’t give a fuck about the bull or Rico or fuck–all anymore. He only wanted to have his cock lodged up in this snug, wet pussy.
He slid his fingers up and down her slit, then licked his finger and moaned. Fuck, she tasted good. He’d love to eat this pussy for hours. He turned her around and maneuvered her to the high stool in the back of the closet. He helped her up, then spread her legs and slowly ran his hands down in a V to pull away the fabric of her panties and give himself a treat. Deprived of sight, he sucked at her folds, licking her long and deep with a flatted tongue from her little hole to her clit and back again. Her flesh was hot against his tongue, slippery smooth, but as he lapped his way up soft curls tickled his tongue above her clit. He slowed, realizing he’d never tasted a woman in this way. He circled her clit slowly, slow enough to actually feel it plump up under his tongue. He gave the nub a slurping suck, and a sweet gasp esc
aped her.
Brody smiled to himself and kissed her there, actually kissed her clit, like he was making friends with a baby animal, trying to communicate something of himself without words.
Running his tongue gently over the flesh around it, he now noticed a patch of goose bumps that weren’t there before. Did a woman’s body actually do that? Change texture as she became aroused? He kissed it again, with a slow press of his lips, reveling in the sleek warmth. Her pussy wetted profusely and he lapped at it, eliciting a soft, strangled moan from the girl above him.
Her thighs began to tremble as she gripped his hair. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He was finally feeling something. He hadn’t realized how numb he’d become. The girl was shuddering now and he grasped her ass with both hands to help her hold on.
His face nuzzled into her crevasses, Brody wanted to give this stranger something she needed, to please her first and get to his own throbbing cock later. The more suppressed squeals and moans she uttered, the more his heart warmed and expanded in his chest. The more he gave her, the more alive and happy he felt, the more his cock throbbed and leaked pre–cum. He was a wild, undulating mess, sucking and squeezing, loving on this pussy for the sheer bliss of making its owner as happy as could be.
When she came, he stilled, his tongue inside her, lips at rest, letting her small twitches pulse against him. And when she finally settled, Brody filled his lungs with the scent of her and growled, then reached in his back pocket for the spare condom stored in his wallet. He’d known his celibacy would end someday and he’d be damned if he’d have an eager pussy waiting to be fucked and him not prepared to take care of her. He pressed the packet into her hand so she knew they were covered, then he suited up, smoothing the condom over his warm penis.
“Brody Cameron you better get the heck out there!” Rico boomed from the hallway.
She jumped. He felt her scramble from the seat, and his stomach dropped. Fuck. Damn. Shit. He was an ass. Within seconds the door flew open and she disappeared in a puff of wild, golden hair. He should have gotten off his pussy–whipped knees and fucked her when he had the chance. But he couldn’t care right now. If he didn’t get to the chutes pronto, he’d be out of the money, for sure.
Chapter Two
He was, by far, the most handsome man she’d ever seen hiding in a utility closet. Broad shoulders and powerful arms, a jaw gripped too tight. He had seemed ready to explode, like a bull out of a chute–or so she imagined. She’d yet to see one live and up close like she was about to do. Her fears and anxieties about being “Elsie Durham”, phony faker from New York City, had fled the second his hand clapped over her mouth. His spicy cologne, which might actually have been Old Spice, tangled with her own cherry and vanilla perfume. Nothing outside of that utility closet mattered. She had opened a door and found a solution, a way to calm the fuck down. Her way. Erotic. Sensual.
Connected.
The thought was flat, without echo or reverb. It was the voice usually drowned out by the din of city life. Though she was forced to hear it now, it made as much difference out west as it did back home. Any man as hedonistic as she was would probably be a sex addict or a player. She’d never met one who could take a connection where she wanted to go, searching the depths of their own bodies together, long term.
Oh, but he was damn sexy, and a cowboy no less. Well, now she could say she’d once had a cowboy. Done and done.
… … …
Rico squinted as Brody crawled down in the bucking chute to lower himself over Hellion’s dusky golden back. He knew better than to question Brody about where the hell he’d been.
Brody sucked in his bottom lip as he tied his hand and tasted…her. He shook his head with a slow, cocky grin, and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“Quit it or everbody’s gonna think you’re on somethin’.”
He wasn’t about to respond. First off, no cowboy in his right mind would get on the back of a bull while high on drugs or alcohol. Second, he could care less right now. He was more awake than he’d been in months. Every part of him was gathered and focused, and as the bull shifted beneath him, head straight, his own body shifted in tandem, a rare flow, body to body.
The bull stilled.
Brody nodded.
The chute flung wide and Hellion surged into the roar of the crowd and bucked hard. Bein’ the bull had kept his head straight in the chute, Brody had anticipated this and was already leaning forward on his riding arm, staying square over the rope when Hellion dipped his head to the right. As the bull began to spin and kick, Brody centered over his back, his free arm cutting the air in a powerful arc, his hand a lightning rod which caught the electricity of the crowd and threw sparks.
The buzzer sounded and Brody reached down to free his hand and dismount. He landed on his feet, heart soaring, knowing it was over.
His slump was definitely over.
… … …
For the first time in a month Brody qualified for the championship round. He sailed up the ranks and into the after party an hour later, Rico’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him from behind.
“Maybe the celibacy thing is working for you after all.” Rico slapped him on the back and craned his neck for the waitress.
Brody’s face turned beet red and, though his buddy’s eyes confirmed he caught the reaction, he clammed up. Colt Lawson approached with barely restrained resentment at having missed qualifying for the short go–round by a hair. Colt had benefited the most from Brody’s losing streak. They’d always been stiff competitors and after a while it was too hard to pretend they liked each other. They were both in it to win it. Plus, Brody thought Colt was kind of a cocky s.o.b.
“I didn’t figure on you making it past the long–round,” Colt said, handing him a beer. Brody stared at the bottle a second before taking it from him.
“Naw, you wouldn’t have,” Rico answered.
“It’s alright, Rico. Colt, there ain’t nothin’ you can say or do tonight that’s going to bring me down. Thanks for the beer.”
With that dismissal, Colt raised his chin and nodded, then turned and started to walk away. A second later, Colt stopped cold. He pulled himself up to his full height and, though his back was to him, Brody knew they had both seen the same thing.
A mess of flowing, golden tresses came through the door along with the same red dress, looking tentative at first as she waded into a bar hip deep in rodeo cowboys and other strangers. Brody stood up straighter, wanting to go directly to her and lift her into a grateful hug, but before he could do anything, Colt was already on the move and Brody realized two really scary things at once.
First, the girl was the only thing different between tonight and every other night in the last six weeks, and therefore his good luck charm. And second, Colt was about make a move on her.
“Turn around and look at me. Right now.” Rico’s voice was firm, and it made Brody’s chest puff out, but he did it. He locked on Rico to steady himself. They stared at each other a few long moments as Rico watched over Brody’s shoulder, and Brody looked away.
“If he sees you lookin’ at her, he’s gonna know.”
Brody swallowed hard.
“Know what?”
Rico cocked his head at him and raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t bullshit me, Brody Cameron. I know you like a brother.”
Brody’s jaw tightened.
“She was some willing piece of ass an’ I was tired of being celibate,” he lied. “It wasn’t helping anyway.”
“Je–sus.“
“What?” Brody jammed his lips together, trying not to look.
“Nothing, she’s just…everybody in here is looking at her.”
Brody turned and saw Colt handing her a beer. Who the hell does he think he is?
Rico stepped to the right and got in Brody’s way, not letting him go, though neither of them could stop looking at her now. Red and blue bar lights played off her hair, making her look a little more like
she belonged in a honkytonk, but not by much. Her skin gleamed, and he swallowed, remembering how all that warm silkiness felt on his cheeks and lips. He rubbed his chin and turned his back on the scene, then took a swig of his beer, setting half his ass on a bar stool like he didn’t give a shit.
“That girl got your mojo back,” Rico said.
“Don’t start with the superstitious crap.”
“You’re willing to risk it, then,” Rico shrugged. “Uh–oh.”
Brody looked up to see Colt trying to get her on the dance floor, and his stomach roiled. Willing to risk it? Hell no.
… … …
Ellie saw Brody Cameron the second she walked in, but there was no way she was going over to talk to him. From what she’d experienced already, there was no shortage of willing women around these cowboys and she had no interest in being one of the nameless, disposable throng. Her moment with Brody earlier this evening didn’t count, of course. It had been her own choice. She did it for herself and had no plans to boast about it to anyone around here. Her pussy clenched at the memory of the best licking she’d ever had in her life, and she actually shushed it like a bothersome kitten.
No more treats, kitty. That was a one–time thing. Don’t get used to it.
Brody’s fingers and tongue had filled her deliciously, though it was the sound of his hungry groaning which echoed now. And the smell of him. And his thick, muscular arms. And the way he seemed to be studying her.
“You look thirsty.”
Ellie startled guiltily, as a man appeared at her side, leaning on the bar. She gave him a quick once–over.
Dark brown hair. Killer smile. Lean and ripped. Used to getting his way.
“Thanks, I’m not–”
“Bud Light for the new girl,” he called out. A moment later, she was holding a cold beer.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 46