He grins at me, his hands sliding down to cup my ass and hold me close enough to kiss some more. “I just bet I am, Soph. Something tells me that if I see you in a dress, bare legs exposed to my wandering hands, I’m gonna want to shove you back in your house, and we’ll never make it to the restaurant, but I bet I’m satisfied on dessert alone.”
I bite my lip, shaking my head. “Yeah, I noticed those roaming hands at dinner tonight. But we’re going on a date, and that’s the bottom line. By the way, Mama Lou might not be okay with you getting me all wet at her dinner table.”
He hums, pulling me flush to his hard body, my breasts squashing against his chest and sending tingles from my nipples to my pussy. “Your sweet little pussy was getting wet just from me putting my hand on your thigh? I wonder what would happen if I did this . . .”
Without warning, he squeezes my ass in his hands, pressing me against the side of Doc’s truck, and I have no choice but to wrap my legs around him and hang on to his neck for dear life.
Not that I mind, especially as he attacks my mouth in a fiery kiss. I weave my fingers through his hair, thankful his hat has been hanging on the hook by the back door since dinner started. This is what I’ve been looking for all night, the intense passion and desire that James has shown me before.
Grasping his hair and pulling hard, I use the leverage to kiss him back as thoroughly as he is kissing me before nibbling along his jaw. Yes, this is what I want, to focus on and be the focus of this man’s power and need.
He growls into my ear as he squeezes my ass hard, hopefully leaving his fingerprints to mark my flesh for the next couple of days. “How about now, Soph? Does your pussy want to be filled with more than my fingers? Fuck, I know I want more. I want to fill you up and have you scream my name, begging to come on my cock. You’ll scream for me, right?”
“God, yes . . .” I moan, and he grinds his cock against me, bucking back and forth as he kisses me again. I swear I’m on fire from the inside, getting close to coming right here against Doc’s truck in full view of the house in the dim light, fully dressed.
But that’s what he does to me. In every touch of our skin, every kiss, even in the way he looks at me, he makes me hotter and hotter, to the point that I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t give it right back to him.
So I do, spreading my legs more to press the crotch of my jeans against his cock. James groans, the tension in his shoulders apparent as he pulls me tight, lifting me away from the truck and letting me slide oh-so-slowly down his body until my boots touch dirt again.
Both of our chests are heaving, my body’s trembling, and James has to inhale deeply before he’s able to say anything. “Tomorrow night,” he finally gets out between breaths, “a real city date. And Soph . . . don’t you dare come without me. You’re going to drive home like the good girl you sometimes are, and go to bed without doing a thing about how you feel. We worked up all this fire together, and I’m gonna be there when you ignite. Wait for me. Wait till tomorrow.”
I bite my lip, not sure if I can promise him that. I’m so close that even the vibration of Doc’s truck through the seat could have me careening off the edge, but eventually I nod. “Okay, it’s gonna be hard . . . but I’ll wait. On one condition—you wait too. Tomorrow night . . . that cock is mine. Judging by what I feel in your jeans, Cowboy, every long, thick, hard inch of it. It’s mine. Even?”
He grins at me. “Even. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go skinny-dipping in the pond before bed. That might just be cold enough.”
He offers a hand to help me into the truck and watches as I pull down the drive. As I drive, I let my mind wander, and all it wants to think about is James’s naked body in the pond and the way the water’s going to be glistening all over his body.
“Goddammit, James,” I growl, cranking the air conditioner to the max, “you knew exactly what you were doing with that last comment.”
In my mind, I can almost hear his gravelly chuckle.
It’s only a half hour later when I get home, the promise of a fancy date replacing the disappointment of the change in tonight’s plan. I’m half debating with myself over breaking my promise, the tingles between my thighs near unbearable. I was right, Doc’s truck has too much engine and not enough suspension to prevent the seat from becoming a tantalizing torture device.
I glance toward my bedroom, where I know I’ve got something that can bring me some relief . . . when my phone rings.
Ah, saved by the bell, I suppose.
I fish it out of my purse and see that it’s Jake. “Hey, Jake. What’s up? Roxy treating you right?”
His laughter comes through the line, and I realize how much I’ve missed that. “Hey, Sophie. Yeah, we’re doing good. Us and the kids. How about you? Any animals kicked you yet?”
I laugh, flopping down on my sofa and yanking off my boots. “Sorry, big brother. So far the only horse’s ass to kick me in my life has been you.”
He laughs back, likely flashing back to our younger days, when he’d carefully wrestle and goof off with me, our rambunctiousness getting a little carried away once or twice. Even after our parents died and he had to be father as well as brother, we still goofed off.
I grin, thinking of all the fun times. “But really, I’m doing great. The vet I’m working for is a great teacher, always quizzing me, but lets me get my hands dirty and actually do the work too. I did a red-bag delivery for the first time, and I’ve been doing follow-up care on the mare and foal—”
Jake interrupts, groaning, “Please, for the love of God, do not tell me what a red-bag delivery is. I don’t need to know, just congrats on . . . stuff. Yay you!”
I laugh back. “Well, you see, Jake . . . when a mommy horse and a daddy horse love each other very much, they make a baby horsey . . .”
Jake gags. “Hold it right there, Sophie! Really, don’t wanna know. What else is going on? Are you working nonstop, or are you making some time to relax too?”
I hear the meaning behind his words, and it touches me. Jake spent a lot of years buried to his eyeballs in work, making sure that he was successful—for himself, for me, and for our parents’ memories. It was a lot of pressure, and in some ways it led to the biggest fight of our relationship. But that fight and his wife, Roxy, have led to him discovering there’s more to life than business suits and bank accounts, and he’s chilled out a lot. Now that he and Roxy have their own kids, who he’s without a doubt a stellar father to, he’s suddenly found a new focus. And not a conversation goes by where he doesn’t check that I’m creating some work-life balance for myself too.
“I’ve made some friends, and a local family has kind of adopted me after I delivered their foal. That was the red-bag delivery. Their mama is sweet, reminds me of Mom some, just doesn’t put up with any shit and does what she wants. The boys are good guys, I’ve seen one of them a couple of times. Nothing serious since I’m just here for the summer. Actually he is too.”
Jake’s voice is curious, but I can still hear that same protective streak that he gets whenever he’s reminded that I do have feminine interests. “Just the summer? Why’s he leaving?”
I bite my lip, wishing maybe I hadn’t shared that fact, because Jake isn’t going to like this part. “Well, he’s a professional bull rider . . . in the rodeo. So he leaves for training before finals in the fall.”
There’s definitely a bit of shock in Jake’s voice, which I guess I can understand. “A bull rider? In the rodeo? Are you serious, Sophie?”
I laugh, trying to lighten the parental tone his voice has taken. Jake’s always been picky about who I see, and he’s been right more often than not, especially one time in particular when I was in high school. “It’s nothing, Jake. Just hanging out. I’m off to school in the fall; he’s off to Vegas. He’s fun and sexy as hell. Tips his cowboy hat at me like a lady before he fucks me bowlegged.”
Jake groans, and I can imagine him clutching at his heart, or maybe his stomach. “Sexy? Tips his ha
t before he fucks you? Oh God, tell me you’re fucking with me. Roxy . . .”
He calls out, and in the distance I hear my lovely sister-in-law talking. “She’s an adult now, honey. There’s going to be guys, and she’s going to . . .”
That’s Roxy, always plainspoken and giving zero fucks . . . okay, she’s rubbed off on me a little bit. Her voice gets closer, and I’m sure Jake’s set his phone down on a table or something. “Sophie . . . is he hot? Treat you well?”
“Yes and yes. Much to my brother’s frustration, he’s the hottest thing on two legs I’ve ever seen!”
Jake sighs, and if it wasn’t for Roxy’s laughter, I bet he’d be headed out here right now to talk some sense into me . . . and maybe to try and beat the shit out of James.
Roxy, though, sounds amused. “Then have a good summer, honey! Hey, Jake . . . can you help me for a minute?”
Jake sighs again, the long-suffering husband who still spends most of the time with a look on his face like he’s died and gone to heaven. “Two against one. Why did I think she was going to be on my side? Really, Sophie . . . I’m just going to assume you’re trying to teach me a lesson here to stay out of your personal life. But take care of yourself and be careful, with the four-legged critters and the two-legged animals.”
I smile, nodding even though he can’t see me. “I will, big brother. And Roxy? Thanks for helping get Jake off my case.”
“No problem, hon. Next time we get together, I want alllll the details,” Roxy says.
Jake laughs, his mood restored, at least for the moment. “Okay. In the meantime, love you, Sophie.”
“Love you, too, Jake.”
We hang up, and I laugh, leaning back on my sofa.
Well, at least one of the good things to come out of that conversation, besides needling my brother, is that the heat between my thighs has settled to embers. Maybe I can wait until tomorrow after all.
But James better make it worth the wait.
CHAPTER 12
JAMES
I pull up to Sophie’s address, a cute little house not too far from Doc’s office in an area that is filled with what the people on TV like to call “starter homes.” It seems to suit her, yellow and sunny with crisp white trim, the yard still green and lush even with the summer heat.
It’s obvious the owners take care of their property, and it makes me happy that she’s in a good neighborhood, in a house that won’t fall down around her.
Nothing about her says she’d even put up with living in a dive. In fact I get the impression from hearing about her brother that she’s used to some of the finer things in life. Still, I’m pleased it’s as well kept as it is.
I climb the three small steps to her front door, knocking on the frame as an unexpected blast of nerves swirls through my gut.
Hell, I don’t know that I’ve ever actually done this . . . pick up a woman for a date where I get all dressed up in my best non-shit-kicker clothes? In my teens, it was just parties and good times, and now that I’m grown . . . well, usually parties and good times, just now they’re after some rodeo.
I feel like an idiot in this suit, which I’ve worn exactly twice before, once for a meeting with the Stetson people before I signed my endorsement contract and once for the end-of-year awards because I was nominated for “Rookie Rider of the Year.” It’s a nice suit, but I’d rather be in my jeans.
All my nerves, all my thoughts disappear in a whoosh, though, as Sophie opens the door, and I get my first look at her dressed nicely.
She’s a vision . . . hell, she’s a fantasy come to life. Her dark hair is curled, loose waves dipping in front of her shoulders to curl under her full breasts, framing her face, and making her look angelic.
Her makeup is subtle, too, giving her a little extra glow but not disguising her natural beauty. The light pink of her lips complements her dress, a body-hugging pink thing that caresses her curves and highlights each swerve, showing plenty of leg and just on the right side of the line between ladylike sexiness and blatant raunchiness.
It’s longer than I would’ve thought she’d choose, just a few inches above her knees, but I realize the last several inches are made of lace, her creamy thighs peeking through as she shuffles about in sky-high heels.
She’s an angel, with a body built for sin . . . and she’s unafraid to show me both sides. In my pants, I feel a stirring, and I remind myself that I promised her a night on the town, city-style.
She smiles, saucy and vulnerable all at once. “You certainly clean up well. So, what do you think?”
She’s just as gorgeous done up head to toe as she is when she’s barefaced with a ponytail in barn clothes, but right now, seeing her like a fantasy for my pleasure is making the blood rush to my cock, and I stammer for a moment before answering, “God, Soph . . . I was right. You look stunning. You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” I move in to greet her with a kiss, but she presses one pink painted nail against my chest, and I realize she really has gone all out.
“Whoa there, Cowboy. You promised me a dinner. Let’s go.” With a swish and a smirk, she struts past me, closing the door as she goes. My jaw drops at her gall, and then at the glimpse of the way her dress perfectly lifts and frames her grabable ass walking away from me.
Hoping to relieve a little bit of the tightness in my pants, I adjust myself and take a steadying breath. “You play fucking dirty, but I’ll admit that I like it if that’s the view I get when you walk off.”
I catch up with her, walking her to my truck as she smiles, knowing that this is just the first move in what’s going to be hours of foreplay.
She moves toward the passenger side, but I pull her back. “Ain’t you ever been on a date with a country boy? You aren’t sitting over there.”
“Is that so?” Sophie asks as I guide her back to the driver’s side, helping her in and making sure she sits flush up against me in the center of the bench seat after tossing my suit jacket to the other side of the cab. “Well, this I could get used to.”
Roaring down the street, I rest my hand on her thigh, and she does the same to me, one hand on my thigh and one scratching up and down my forearm. I’ve been told they’re sexy, but what do I know?
All I care about is that they’re strong enough to help hold the ropes so I can stay on a bull, but I guess the muscles and veins that give me a good grip do a little something extra to women, and it seems Sophie isn’t immune.
I squeeze her thigh, thankful for the handful and knowing it’ll flex the muscles under her fingertips. Sophie hums and scratches my forearm a little harder, her breath quickening. We don’t say anything; there’s no need for words as we take the road up the mountain, past Outlook Point and climbing higher.
Too soon, we reach the resort, which is impressive. I’m not one for skiing, but I could go riding in these hills for a long time in the warmer months.
“So, have you been here before?” Sophie asks as I help her out. She smooths her skirt over her ass, tugging a little and smiling, watching as I slip my jacket back on. My temporary debonair image is back in place as we head toward the front door.
“Only once,” I admit. “It’s not that I don’t like the mountains, but when I’m in town I’m normally too busy. What about you—ever been to the resort when you’re in town?”
Sophie nods, blushing a little. “Well, oddly enough, through a Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon sort of deal with Jake’s in-laws, I actually know the owners a tiny bit. Let’s see if I can get this right . . . my brother, Jake, is married to Roxy. Her sister’s best friend and her husband are the owners. I’ve really only met them at weddings and such, though.”
I take it in, surprised at just how wide and how moneyed Sophie’s connections are. Every other woman I’ve met who runs in circles like those has a tendency to “put on airs,” as Mama likes to say. I never would have guessed it about down-to-earth, honest, and spunky Sophie, though.
I laugh, relaxing. “Does that mean we can get a discoun
t on our appetizers?”
Sophie lets out a big breath and laughs quietly. “Nope. But it does mean if you’re not a gentleman during dinner, you’ll have a former All-Pro football player turned resort financier paying you a visit.”
I smirk, nodding. “Well then, I’ll behave . . . in the restaurant. No promises otherwise.”
We go inside, where we’re seated with a stunning view of the mountains, and our waiter takes our drink orders. Sophie’s surprised. “Wine? I figured you’d have asked for some JD and Coke.”
I shake my head, sipping my water. “No way. I’m driving, and I expect to maintain control of my truck as we go down the mountain. Second . . . there’s a time for JD, but I never mix it with Coke. I have culture.”
Sophie laughs, giving me a smoldering look. “So . . . I know the basics about you. But I’m still interested in knowing more.”
“So am I. You seem so well put together; tell me one of the craziest or stupidest things you’ve done.”
Sophie laughs. “Okay. Probably the biggest fight my brother and I had. Jake and his business partner, Nathan, went in halfsies and opened up a night club in town.”
“Okay . . . so where do you come in?”
“Well, one night, just after I turned eighteen, I snuck in with a fake ID and happened to get a little tipsy. The night ended up with me half-drunk and Jake nearly punching out the bastard I thought was my boyfriend. I was so mad at Jake at the time, but he was right about that asshole all along, although it got worse before I realized Jake had my best interests at heart. It was, well, my bad-boy phase. I’m glad I outgrew it.”
“Oh, you have?” I ask. “I’m not exactly a choirboy.”
Sophie laughs, leaning in. “I may not be totally out of that phase, but you’re different. But . . . your turn. Even.”
I can read the challenge in her voice, and I understand what she’s saying totally. She’s not into bad boys . . . but she’s not ready for Mr. Nice yet either.
“Well, I’d say the stupidest thing I ever did involved a bull, way too much beer, and not much else,” I tell her, chuckling. “It was my second year on tour, and I’d just gotten my first win. It was a huge achievement for me.”
Buck Wild (Bennett Boys Ranch Book 1) Page 10