Mandy's Homebound Cowboys

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Mandy's Homebound Cowboys Page 8

by Regale, Rhea


  Brody climbed into the driver’s seat. Memories rushed him in a merciless tidal wave. Mudding after heavy rains. Backing up to the swimming hole on hot summer days. Bonfires and camping trips on the ranch. Loving women in the bed or playing cards with his cousins on stacked hay bales. Drinking beers and stargazing.

  He and Craig cruising through town day and night, leaving their marks on Ryder.

  The first tear crept down his cheek, and he wiped it away when something caught his attention on the dash. Reaching up, he grabbed the white paper with the tips of his fingers. Flipping the envelope over, he caught the familiar script of his father’s handwriting and My dear son Brody written on the front.

  Brody licked his suddenly dry lips. He opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of white paper. Closing his eyes, he unfolded the paper and took a deep, shuddering breath. God, why did it have to be like this?

  Slowly, he resigned to opening his eyes. It took a short moment before the first line of the letter registered. And with each line that followed, his throat swelled, his chest ached, and tears came freely.

  Dear Brody-

  I never wanted you to leave on the terms you did, but god gives us each free will to make our own decisions in this life. If a time ever comes that you find this letter, I want you to know that I have always supported your dreams, and will always be your biggest fan. You have made me proud, son, ’cause I know how hard you’ll have worked to get to where you want to go. For each of us, dreams differ. My dreams are in Ryder. My roots are in this soil. My heart is in this home. There will be a day when you find where your heart belongs, and as much as I pray you find it belongs here, I know you will follow it to where you are meant to be.

  Never, Brody, believe for a moment I do not love you, despite our differences. You are my son, and nothing you do will ever make me love you less than with every ounce of my soul.

  I know how much this old, beat-up Ford meant to you. I’ve treasured it since you left, keeping it up with maintenance. If ever a day arrives that you want to embrace your home, let it start small and grow. Let the memories this truck holds always be with you.

  Love,

  Pa

  P.S. It ain’t gonna run unless you fix one last thing. You know what that is, ’cause he’s got the key.

  Brody slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Damn you, Pa!” He smacked the wheel again and dropped his forehead on his knuckles. “Damn you. Why did you have to leave before I could apologize? Why?”

  Silence was his haunting answer. He clawed through the dreary memories of his fight with his pa, searching for comfort among his grief.

  His comfort came in the soothing vision of Mandy, her dark eyes filling his cold soul with warmth and vibrancy. Her smile eased the pain in his chest and made his heart beat unsteadily.

  For the first time, Brody didn’t want a woman. He needed a woman, and her name was Amanda Pearson.

  Chapter Nine

  Mandy hurried down the stairs a minute before eight. Her momma looked up from her stitching as she hunkered down feet from the front door, waiting for Craig to ring the bell. She saw him pull into the drive, watched him climb out of the truck, looking devilishly handsome in his blue jeans, black T-shirt, and cowboy hat, and outright moaned.

  “Date?” Mrs. Pearson asked. Mandy smiled. Her momma let out a breathy laugh and resumed hemming the pants. “I saw you kissin’ Craig earlier.”

  “Momma,” she groaned, rubbing the warmth from her cheeks. “Don’t be spyin’ on me. I’m twenty-seven.”

  “I wasn’t spyin’, child. I happened to see it when I stepped into the kitchen.” Mrs. Pearson tugged the needle and thread and laid the pants down over her knees. She turned her full attention to Mandy. “Craig’s a good man. So is Brody, and I have it in good source Brody’s been watchin’ you. Both are gonna go big places, but they may not come back here.”

  “I doubt Craig’s lookin’ for anythin’ other than friendship. The kiss,” Mandy shrugged. “He’s been upset. Maybe it wasn’t his intention.”

  The doorbell rang at eight sharp. Mrs. Pearson smiled and went back to work. Mandy shook her frazzled nerves back into place and pulled the door open. Craig lowered his hat and smiled, the porch light casting his face in a heart-stopping display of perfect curves and hollows. His hair was tied back at his nape. Running a quick look down his form, his T-shirt was wrinkle-free, his jeans hugged his muscular thighs, and the tips of his cowboy boots looked polished.

  “Good evenin’, Amanda,” Craig greeted. Mandy snapped her gaze up to his face. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile widened. He bowed his head. “Mrs. Pearson, good evenin’.”

  “Same to you, Craig. You both go have fun. You’d better take care of my girl,” Mrs. Pearson warned.

  “She’s safe with me. I swear it.”

  Mandy closed the door behind her and followed Craig to his truck. He held the door open for her and offered a hand as she climbed up in the cab. She settled into the seat, fixing the skirt of her sundress as Craig lifted himself behind the wheel and started the engine.

  “Where’re we headin’?” Mandy asked, draping her jacket over her legs.

  “I’m takin’ you out to pasture. A place I like to go on clear nights and stargaze,” Craig said. She smiled down at her lap. So much like his brother. He reached over and gave her bare knee a squeeze. Mandy held her breath, the rough pads of his fingers playing every open nerve ending, sending bolts of fire straight up to her pussy. The unfurling itch that seemed to blossom each time Craig or Brody came near her throbbed with a new fever tonight, matching the erratic tempo of her heart. “I brought some burgers from Martin’s and have a couple six packs chillin’ on ice in the back.”

  “A Craig Ryder secret place?” Mandy teased. Craig laughed, drawing his hand away. His fingers left a trail of burning skin in their wake. She squeezed her pussy muscles tight, but moisture seeped from her slit, dampening her lacy panties.

  “Not so much, but it ain’t a place any cousins visit now. It’s at the far end of our property, a good five to ten minutes off roadin’.” He guided the truck with a natural-born ease along the town roads. He took a dirt road between cornfields, pushing the truck at a daring speed. Craig grabbed her hand and brought her fingertips to his mouth. She relaxed, not having realized she’d tensed. “Easy, Mandy. I know these roads better than I know bronc ridin’.”

  “That’s sayin’ a lot, bein’ you’re on your way to ridin’ big time with Colt.” She still grabbed hold of the handle over the door as she bounced around. The seat belt didn’t do much to keep her ass in check. “If this is what bronc ridin’ feels like, you can ride all you want, and I’ll stand on the sidelines.”

  “I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult to my drivin’ or a compliment that you’d watch me ride.” Craig laughed, slowing the truck and taking the edge out of the bounce.

  “You seem in good spirits tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re up to somethin’ that may warrant a severe scoldin’.”

  “Ahh, Amanda.” Craig flashed her a smile and winked, taking the truck off one beaten path onto another.

  They drove for about ten minutes, out of the cornfields and onto a long stretch of pasture dotted with tree bunches and low-growing shrubs. The further out they went, the higher the saw grass grew until, at last, Craig pulled the truck between two trees and cut the engine. Mandy let herself out of the truck, dropped into the swaying grass that tickled her knees, and turned to catch Craig reach into the bed and hoist two large bundles of pads and sleeping bags.

  “Are we campin’ out?” Mandy asked, folding her hands on the edge of the truck bed and perching her chin on her knuckles. Craig hooked his fingers in the rope of one bundle and slung it over his shoulder. “I would’ve opted for jeans.”

  “You look beautiful as you are.”

  Mandy helped Craig roll out the two foam pads and make up the sleeping bags. He brought over a cooler with beer, two
Styrofoam containers tediously balanced on top, and an electric lantern.

  “Let’s chow,” Craig suggested, popping open a container for her as she sat on the bags.

  “Good ol’ country-style date, if I might say.”

  “You can say.”

  She bit off a piece of burger and looked up at him. He cracked open two bottles of beer and handed her one.

  Clinking the lips together, Craig said, “For your friendship.”

  An hour later, a full belly and a slight buzz going, Mandy tucked her head against Craig’s shoulder, his arm draped around her waist. He led her in a slow sway to the song that flowed out of the truck windows. Her hand rested in his, pressed to his chest. She listened to the powerful thump of his heart, felt it in her fingertips, and closed her eyes. Her soul crooned righteousness as they danced, the tall grass brushing against their legs, and the night sky a dazzling backdrop.

  “It’s getting cool,” Mandy murmured, not wanting to move away from the heat of Craig’s body. She felt leaden and complacent. Her breasts reacted to the gentle friction Craig caused. Her pussy stirred in the lazy pre-arousal state that often occurred when she spent time alone with him. “I’m gonna get my jacket.”

  She stumbled back, smoothing the skirt of her dress down from the rumpled mess it had become from rubbing against Craig’s legs. She swayed the short walk to the truck, all the while feeling Craig’s gaze burning into her. The fiery trail scoured her as she leaned into the truck and grabbed her jacket. Summer was brutal, but the nights were cooling off a bit, leaving a chill in the air.

  When she turned, she was surprised to see Craig standing a few feet from her. Tentatively, she tucked her rebellious curls behind her ear and tried her damnedest to force the sudden lump in her throat to keep movin’ south. The hunger she sensed pulsed off him in unrestrained waves.

  He moved closer. It didn’t matter what she tried to tell herself about their friend-based relationship. Craig was scorching her with that heady gaze of his, as he had been doing for years. A short glance below his belt left her dizzy and her mind rolling while her body acutely reacted. Like a switch, he turned her so far on, her startling fantasy of jumping him and fucking him mad in this field didn’t seem too preposterous.

  “That kiss, Amanda.” Craig stepped into her, his fingers sinking into her hair and cupping the back of her head. “I’ve been wantin’ to do that for years, but going to school in Arizona with you here…it wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

  Mandy tried to find her breath, but air only filled her lungs partway. Despite the unusually clean night air, she found it hard to breathe, hard to think, and so damn easy to imagine. Thank you, beer.

  “What changed now?” she asked, her voice hoarse and sensual. Her body hummed like the nighttime insects all around them. Her pussy grew wet and tingly. Her clit pulsed a familiar rhythm that called for more than clothed bodies and kisses.

  “Time’s too short to fuck around. I’m a semester away from my master’s, and then I plan to return to Ryder for good.”

  “And the rodeo?”

  “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t want to give it up, but I can arrange to have you travel with me. If you don’t like it after a season, then I’ll give up rodeoin’ and focus on the farm and the ranch.” He tipped her head, bringing his mouth a breath away from hers. “I want you so damn bad it’s been near killin’ me to stay away all this time.”

  His words had no time to sink in before his mouth claimed her with a hunger that lit her on fire from lips to mind to toes. He controlled the kiss with each possessing sweep of his tongue, plundering her mouth and feeding her breath. There was a tinge of desperation behind the hunger, something dark and brooding and quickly forgotten when his arm slinked around her waist and tugged her flush to him.

  Mandy moaned, delighting in the solid frame of his body against her own soft dips and curves. His hands moved over her, exploring her with no resistance, his kiss deep and desperate. His palms slid down her side and curled around her ass. She moaned, and her arms wrapped around his neck, and her fingers tangled in his soft hair, feeding into his kisses until the very air she breathed came from his lungs.

  He hoisted her up with a soft groan, fitting the hard bulge in his jeans against her wet pussy. She wrapped her legs around his waist as her back hit the side of the truck, forcing him tight against her.

  “Amanda,” he whispered, cupping her head between his hands and finally unleashing his restrained hunger. His hips rocked into her, and she whimpered, the rough friction releasing a series of tremors that threatened to rip her apart.

  “I want you, too, Craig,” she whispered between possessive plunges of their tongues. “I want you.”

  * * * *

  Craig held nothing back. He’d restrained his true feelings for Amanda far too long to warrant caution tonight. He wanted her, all of her, and he’d forever be thanking god if she wanted him in return. His emotions were on the fritz, his only salvation coming from the sparse time he spent with Amanda. She helped him clear his thoughts, making one thing frighteningly clear. He loved this woman and would not risk losing her for any schooling or rodeo.

  The flavor of beer still lingered in her mouth, igniting a throb in his jaw and a pounding ache in his cock. She tasted great. He bunched up the skirt of her dress and pulled it over her head, tearing her mouth away from his for a brutal moment.

  She didn’t allow him the chance to soak in the sight of her flesh, those wicked hips of hers rocking against his, the hot center of her body sliding up and down his hard cock. She clawed his shirt up his back and stripped it off his body, casting it aside.

  When she arched against him, the warm, soft curves of her body caressing the feverish flesh of his chest and stomach, he groaned, grabbing her ass in his hands and spinning her away from the truck. The swells of her breasts rubbed over his pecs, her quiet moans echoing each slight movement.

  Craig stumbled through the knee-high grass, blinded by the heady desire flowing through their hungry kisses. Her hands splayed over his back and trekked on either side of his spine, molding over every small crevice in his muscles and each vertebrae of his spine, spears of raw heat jolting in the wake of her path.

  His toes hit the pads with the sleeping bags. Carefully, he knelt down and settled back on his heels, coasting his hands along the smooth planes of her back. His fingers tangled up in her hair, bringing his hands around to cup her face. He eased back, delighting in stealing nibbles from her bottom lip. His breaths came sharp and shallow, the throb in his cock resonating through his body. Amanda’s hands gripped his shoulders, her legs tightening around his waist as she sat firmly against his dick. Her supple breasts rose and fell rapidly, her pants expelling from her parted and swollen lips.

  Her shoulders shrugged as she leaned closer to him. The soft, sweet fragrance from the silky strands of her hair filled his nostrils, laced with the underlying hint of her arousal. Even in the darkness lit only by the dazzling display of stars and a half moon hanging in the sky, he felt the heat radiating from her skin and saw the deepening color that painted her cheeks.

  “Craig,” she whispered.

  Gently, he tipped her chin up with his thumb and began etching a slow, teasing trail of kisses down the side of her neck. A low, long moan fled her. He swallowed back his own growl of pleasure as her finger slid up into his hair and her short nails scraped along his scalp.

  He traced the pulsing artery in her throat down to the gentle slope where it met her shoulder, and nipped her tender flesh. She sucked in a breath, her nails biting into his shoulder and scalp.

  “Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of you?” he murmured, dragging his lips along the delicate curve of her collarbone. “Imaginin’ how soft your skin was?”

  Craig traced a finger over her shoulder and down to her strapless bra. He hooked the tip of his appendage on the top and eased the hindering fabric away from her breast.

  “How your breasts would fit in my palm
s?” he cooed, his voice low and husky, alive with sexual currents. He scooped out her breast and drew a tantalizing circle around her pearled nipple with his thumb. The flavor of her skin—a delicious mixture of clean air, salt, and soap—filled him, branding her to memory and leaving him craving more. He dipped his head, his chin brushing over her nipple.

  “Ohh, Craig,” she crooned, bowing into him. Her breasts lifted, her taut nipple cresting his bottom lip. He sucked her between his lips and groaned against her fleshy mound, lashing his tongue against her nipple. “More. Oh, more.”

  Pressing his hand flat against her back, he held her to him, pinching her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Her hips undulated, slick juice from her pussy spreading against his lower abdomen, just above his belt. Those lithe legs of hers hugged him in an embrace that left his mind whirling.

  Craig bridged the narrow valley between her breasts, snapping open her bra as he moved. Flinging the restraint aside, he cupped the swell of her waiting tit, lifting her mouthwatering mound to his lips, and sucked her nipple into his mouth in one sharp motion.

  “Wicked and nice,” she moaned. “I like the way you pinch me.”

  Craig lifted his heavily hooded eyes to her face. Her eyes were closed, that sweet bottom lip of hers drawn between her teeth. He could see the rapid pulse in her throat as she dry-humped his cock. If she kept it up, he’d explode in his jeans.

  Leaning back and releasing her nipple with a dull smack, he raked his gaze over her naked body. The only thing left was the pair of lace panties.

  Taking one of her nipples between his thumb and finger, he rolled the pearled flesh one way then the other, giving her gentle tugs and loving the pure pleasure that washed over her face. He thrust his cock against her pussy, the sudden friction shooting him up to a dangerous level of hunger. He’d be keeping his jeans on if he held any hope of not fucking her.

 

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