“Thank you.”
“What’s your name, sugar?”
“Well it’s not ’sugar’. Or ’new girl’.”
“Ha–ha. Alright, alright. I like a little sass.”
“Elsie,” she said holding out her hand as he was taking a sip of his beer, knowing he would fumble.
“I’m Colt,” he answered, slapping his beer on the bar, and wiping his mouth with the heel of his hand.
“Well, Colt, it seems to me there’s only one way you could possibly know I’m new around here.”
“I’m psychic?”
“Nice try.”
“A man can’t help it if he’s popular with the females,” Colt actually blushed and Ellie decided it earned him back a couple of points. He wasn’t too smart, but at least he wasn’t completely shameless. “You want to dance?”
Several couples had moved onto the dance floor.
“What is that, a waltz?”
Colt snickered. “Two–step. Where you from anyway?”
“New York.”
He nodded, put his beer down and placed a hand on her upper arm to lead her out. “Come on. I’ll show you. I happen to know for a fact there’s people where you’re from who know how to two–step.”
“No, no thank you.”
He tried to persuade her, but Ellie had had enough of being a fish out of water for one day.
“Maybe another time.” She let her gaze wander to where Brody was. He had his back to the bar, but the man talking to him was practically glaring at her–no, wait. He was glaring at Colt.
“You know what, Colt. I changed my mind. Can we go slow?”
“A’ course.” Colt led her out to the far corner of the dance floor where they wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. The steps were way easier than she’d expected. “You’re getting it, Elsie.”
The moment he said it, Ellie stepped on his foot.
“Sorry.”
“Naw, you’re cute when you trample on me.”
He guided them into the flow with the other dancers, and Ellie found herself able to ask questions.
“So, are you one of the bull fighters?” She’d studied the roster, but there were so many of them, she didn’t recognize him.
“No, I’m a bull rider.”
Colt was actively trying to get her to stare into his eyes, so she kept her gaze fixed over his shoulder. That is, until they twirled past Brody and his buddy, and Ellie caught Brody trying not to look. His gaze was cold but pleading. His need, whatever it was, made her cheeks flush and her sex warm over.
The words anything, anything echoed in her mind and she had to tamp them down. Uncertainty made her heart beat faster and she swallowed, choosing to focus on her dance partner instead.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, sugar. Sorry, I can’t help calling you that. You’re just so sweet.”
A taste of bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it.
“What’s up with Brody Cameron? The announcer said his ride was some kind of big deal tonight?”
Colt went a little white and anger flashed in his eyes. He shrugged, a second too late.
“He got lucky is all. Been on a losing streak and should have been dropped back to the minor league circuit long ago if you ask me. Barely hung on to the top 35 spot. I don’t know what the hell got into him tonight.”
Ellie set a mental note to check Colt’s ranking when she was alone.
“Maybe they gave him an easy bull.”
Colt gave a short laugh.
“Naw, he drew a rank bull and everyone was excited because it was like a comeback. He got injured pretty bad off Hellion last season. I’m better than Cameron and I couldn’t get out on Hellion. I thought it was the end of him, for sure.” Colt shook his head at the injustice, and Ellie nodded, not wanting to reveal her annoyance on Brody’s behalf. She had no reason to defend the guy, but remembering where she’d encountered him, right before his first go–round tonight, she knew he’d been in a rough emotional state. Big, tough cowboys don’t hang out in utility closets if they’re feeling great about themselves.
Ellie went quiet, hoping Colt would keep talking and reveal more, but no such luck. He didn’t ask her any questions about herself either, a sure sign he was only interested in getting up in her frilly panties.
The song ended and Ellie thanked him quickly, hoping he’d get the message she wasn’t interested in anything more. Colt walked her back to her beer and, no sooner had she taken a sip, but there was another cowboy standing in front of her, asking her to dance.
… … …
Was she going to dance with the entire 35–man line up? Jeez.
“Why don’t you ask her to dance?”
Brody put his head in his hands, the high of his big night almost completely dissipated by now.
“Well, at this point she’s danced with a bunch of guys so you going up there is just one more. Ain’t no one going to think you need her for anything in particular.”
“It’s not so simple. Look, what if you’re right and I do need her? I can’t talk to her.” Brody explained how they’d barely spoken. Talking to her could break the spell and ruin everything. He didn’t even know her name. “Wait–I got it.” Brody’s face lit up as he popped Rico in the chest with the back of his hand. “You dance with her. Explain the situation. Get her to meet me tomorrow night.”
Rico shook his head, but he wasn’t one to argue against a cowboy’s superstition. If Brody thought the no talking was a part of the deal, then it was.
“It’s a hardship for me, but I’ll do it.” Rico put his beer down, squeezed Brody’s arm and turned to look for her. “Damn, where’d she go?”
… … …
In the brief amount of sleep he got, he’d dreamt of her, seated on the stool in the dark, her hands resting on her sweet thighs, holding herself open for him. She was seated at the perfect height. He grabbed her ass and tilted her, then felt his way, guiding his cock between her legs. He went deep and long, deep and long, and she fucked him back, bearing down, gripping his cock, tightening down on him with every stroke. They moved in perfect rhythm.
Rico shouted his name in the hall, and the dream almost ended. Brody put a hand over her mouth and fucked harder, hips pistoning in and out of her perfect warmth. He needed to come. He didn’t know if he’d get her there. But so what? Fuck. Fuck. Ahhhghghhhh!
Brody exploded, spurting, jerking into stillness, spurting again. The pounding on the door continued as he pulled her close and more came out of him, his breath and lips heavy on her neck. The darkness opened him somehow.
“Brody Cameron wake the heck up!” Rico shouted.
Wait–what?
His eyes flew open. Brody turned over and punched his pillow. He’d barely slept, and now the sun was peeking through the cheap ass motel curtains and Rico was banging on the door.
In his dream, she didn’t come. He knew it. He was an ass. Was needing a woman ever worth the trouble?
Grumbling and rubbing his eyes, Brody opened the door.
“Got some good news for you,” Rico said, patting him on the arm and sliding a cardboard tray of coffee and muffins on the table. “It was me and Jordan Lee getting breakfast this morning and he danced with her last night. Her name’s Elsie Durham.”
Brody winced. “That can’t be right.”
“I know, terrible name for a bull rider’s wife, i’nit?”
He decided to ignore the comment. Rico’s guilty conscience always had to bring marriage into any conversation about sex.
“Did he say what she was doing here?” Brody was already tapping out her name on his iPad. “There’s nothing on Google. Maybe it’s not her real name.”
Rico shrugged. “Maybe not. But we’ve got a whole day ahead of us and you need to change the channel on that brain of yours before tonight.”
“You’re more superstitious than me, not letting anybody put a hat on a bed or wear yellow or ride with change in their pockets. Now you’re te
lling me not to care if the girl who broke my losing streak isn’t around to keep me on my game?”
Brody dropped his boxers and walked naked into the bathroom, knowing it would piss Rico off.
“I didn’t need to see your naked ass, man.”
“Yeah, you did.”
He got into the shower and breathed her name into the steam as if he could wish her here.
“Meet me, Elsie,” he whispered. “Please.”
… … …
Ellie left the bar last night, feet sore from all the dancing and unable to figure out what was up with Brody Cameron. Now she stood in front of the hotel closet in her bra and panties looking for something cute to wear to tonight’s event, trying to pretend she wasn’t dressing up to strip down.
Why didn’t Brody ask her to dance? She was a pretty terrible dancer, but it didn’t stop the other guys…Her stomach turned at the thought. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been with her. Well, why should it bother her? She didn’t want anyone to know either. If this got back to her boss, she’d never hear the end of it. Ellie complained incessantly about spending weeks on end with a bunch of redneck cowboys but what did she do on her very first night? Lifted her dress up for the first one she met, that’s what.
Ellie grabbed a very low, navy V–neck mini dress with a flared skirt. She pulled it over her head and zipped up the side. Maybe she should be embarrassed. Maybe she was the only woman around here who knew not to mess with Brody Cameron for some reason–married womanizer? He wasn’t wearing a ring…
She glanced at her laptop. She did plenty of research on the other riders, but carefully avoided a search on Brody. She liked their secret, and she liked the fact that all she knew about him she had learned herself and was physical in nature.
No one was expecting her at the arena, of course, but she wanted to arrive well before it started. She could repeat her steps from the night before and get there around the same time as last night, just in case… But no, she wasn’t going to let herself get hooked.
I have no intention of going anywhere near that hallway or it’s secret love closet.
Ellie wound her way through the crowds along the promenade, keeping forward momentum as her mouth watered over the smell of fried chicken and beer. In her peripheral vision a blur of vendors lined the halls on the way to the backstage entrance, t–shirts and cowboy hats and tight clusters of people around cowboys signing autographs at their sponsors’ booths. She raised her pass to the guards as she approached and they swept the doors open in tandem. When the doors snicked closed behind her, Ellie slowed into the quiet. She was alone. Her footfalls echoed in the stairwell as she descended and paced quickly through the underground hall, not completely sure of the location of the closet, but secretly hoping to spot it, if only for a bit of fond reminiscence. Her palms were sweating and she touched her hair, not wanting to mark her dress.
This time, when she heard voices around the bend, she did not back herself up to the wall to wait. Ellie set her chin a notch higher and kept walking, though a moment later, she pulled up short, her heart slamming into her throat.
Brody sucked in a breath and stilled. He licked his lower lip and Ellie’s mind went blank.
If she didn’t want to see him again, why did she come this exact way, at the same time as last night… She was quite instantly damp between her legs, which did not take her by surprise so much as her quickened heartbeat and the full understanding she couldn’t shut down her desire for him if she tried. The bright florescent lights hid nothing, and she lowered her eyes too late. She tried to walk past him.
He removed his hat and side–stepped to block her path, and that’s when she knew for sure.
He had been waiting.
Chapter Three
Brody rubbed below his lip with his thumb, wondering what the hell to do, when Elsie tilted her head toward the door of the closet and disappeared inside.
She was standing at the back. That wasn’t right. Brody took her in his arms and turned her so her back was to the door. He’d replayed their night over and over in his mind, knowing he had to do it exactly as before.
He turned her again, her back to his chest, and covered her mouth gently. Elsie giggled and licked his palm and he laughed, then shushed himself. She turned around in his arms and took a small step back, her smile inviting.
Now here was the hard part. Brody unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock out, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. He dipped his head slightly and came up, eyes locked on hers. The panel on the wall counted down, and just as Brody was falling into the comfort of her warm brown eyes, the lights clicked off.
He let out a deep breath and Elsie did too.
“Hi,” she whispered, her breath sweet and minty. Brody smiled, shaking his head to himself, and struggled to find her lips, to place a finger there. Her lips curved under his finger and he traced her smile. When she nodded, he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek, down the side of her neck to grip her and pull her closer until their mouths touched. He sighed, breathing into her, remembering the first taste of her, and realizing his second taste was even better. He wanted so badly to tell her. But he was also starting to think he might even prefer it this way.
Brody took her hands in his and raised them to her shoulders, guiding both of their fingers under the straps of her dress and, after a few tries like this, Elsie seemed to catch on.
Time drifted and meant nothing. It could have been twenty minutes or an hour. He had no idea. Brody was lost in the feel of her creamy skin, the delicious, earthy taste of her under all that cherry and vanilla. When she finally came in his mouth, Brody moved in deeper, suckled at her pussy, nuzzling and kissing. He licked her clean, smiling to himself as she came down from her orgasm. God, she tasted good. When had he ever in his life devoted so much effort to learning one woman’s body?
Maybe the better you know her body, the better you’ll do out there.
Rico didn’t come get him this time. Elsie stroked his hair, letting him know she wanted to be let up. He pressed his warm lips to her thigh, to which she stilled and sighed. He heard the rustle of her dressing herself in the dark, and he slowly did the same, groaning as he pressed his too–hard cock into his jeans, until all was quiet once again, and they stood apart from each other. Elsie’s fingers brushed his and they held hands in the pitch black. His cock throbbed, though it was a good ache, a feeling he could live with. A reminder of her, and what he was trying to accomplish.
Where to go from here?
Did she understand? Did she know he’d want her like this again and again?
Brody moved in and they tangled around each other like two lost souls, rubbing each other’s backs. He nuzzled into her hair and kissed her earlobe, then pulled back to give her a bone–deep kiss he hoped would register as supreme gratitude.
Elsie kissed him back with a sigh, and their foreheads touched for a few long moments before she released herself and turned for the door.
… … …
Ellie’s phone buzzed as she high–tailed it away from the closet in search of the ladies room, but she ignored the call, not ready to use her voice yet. The silence with Brody had lulled her into a happy stupor she wasn’t ready to disrupt. Was he behind her, watching as she walked away? She heard voices, but had no idea if one of them was his.
He wanted to repeat what they’d done the night before, almost exactly, though Ellie was ready for more. She’d seen his cock and wanted to taste it, but he didn’t let her. He’d moved her hands away, and when she tried to kneel before him, he lifted her back up and placed her hands on either side of his face so she could feel him shaking ’no’. He kissed her palms then, and put her up on the stool.
What guy says no to a blow job?
Some kind of kinky orgasm denial? He didn’t look like the type to deny himself anything, much less a good BJ.
Unsure of where to put herself, she made her way toward the back pens, thinking she’d head up to the deck above the
chutes to watch the action, hoping she would not bump into Brody.
Their secret needed to stay in the closet.
Ellie chuckled to herself. What would he say if she used the phrase ’in the closet’ with him? Truth was, she had no idea about his sexual orientation, political leanings or his stance on marriage equality. All she knew about him was his mouth, his hands and those powerful, mind–altering kisses he planted all over her breasts and between her legs.
There were more people here in leather fringe, jostling each other. Cowboys worked their bull ropes, stretched and practiced their moves–she was really starting to appreciate the way a man’s ass looked in leather chaps. Ellie wandered, observing, and happened upon a woman checking one of the bulls. She was wearing a curve–hugging raspberry–colored western shirt dress which inched up her thighs. Her boots were distressed black leather with matching raspberry sequined inlays.
The woman looked directly at her.
“Cute outfit,” Ellie said, trying to cover up for staring.
“Hand me that flank strap, honey. Yep, that’s the one.”
Ellie grabbed the long strap hanging on the gate beside her and handed it over.
“What’s your name?”
“Elsie Durham.”
“You have excellent taste in women’s clothing. I like you already. Are you new to pro bull riding, or new to us?”
“You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“Nope.”
“I like you already.” Ellie grinned. Why couldn’t she have come here as Ellie Donovan? Cooper thought they’d be more open to someone they perceived as one of their own, rather than a big city luxury magazine writer. Still, she hated making friends under false pretenses. In this crowd it made her feel like a fool and a liar and practically guaranteed an expiration date on any friendship she might strike up.
“I’m Janie Musgrave.”
“And who’s that?” Ellie nodded toward the beast behind the bars.
Brought to His Knees-Tough Guys Laid Low By Love Page 47