Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 (8 page)

BOOK: Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2
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He clamped his hands on her full hips and dived in. For long minutes he licked, sucked, swirled, thrust and nibbled. He lost himself to the flavors and her sweet little sounds, so when she started pulsating on his tongue, he was surprised.

He came back to himself and applied pressure to her clit with his tongue, sending her over the edge. Her cry filled the air, and Tilly ran past. Damian pressed back the hood of Ruthie’s clit with his tongue to get at her core. She arched, and more juices flooded his chin.

She clamped her knees around his head, riding his mouth. He reached up her body and pinched her nipples, delighting in her pleasure.

But damn, his balls ached. He brought her down slowly and sat back on his heels to stare at her.

A dozen snapshots filled his mind. Of her hair, just so. Her eyes, fogged with bliss. She hummed as her body came down from its high. But he didn’t want her down.

Without warning, he thrust three fingers into her tight sheath.

“Oh!” She bucked wildly, drenching his fingers. He pushed against the rough patch on her inner wall that he knew would send her flying again. Her face contorted and a sex flush coated her skin.

Two more snapshots in his head. He’d never forget this woman.

He withdrew his fingers, unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. Thank God for a wallet full of condoms because he didn’t think he could have stopped at this point. He needed her too badly.

He kicked off pants and boots, his shirt crumpled in the grass. “Let me,” she said when he found a condom. She tore it open and fitted it over the tip of his straining cock.

Throwing his head back, he fought to keep from coming at her light touch. When she’d rolled it into place, he pushed her hand aside and gave it one fast stroke. “Fuck.”

As he pushed into her, he kissed her. She tasted sweet and smelled of the Texas wildflowers. He sucked on her tongue and buried his cock to the hilt. Then reaching under her ass, he angled her to perfectly receive him.

Driving in and out of her, he imagined his cock passing over that inner wall he’d pressed with his fingers. “I’m going to have you all day, in all ways. I’m not letting you out of my sight today.”

She turned her mouth into his and thrust her tongue into his mouth in reply. With a growl, he increased his pace. Heat climbed up his spine, encompassing him.

“I want more pictures.”
Pictures I can keep when you’re gone.
“Of you like this, ready to come apart for me. In more of that lingerie.” He grunted. “And skinny-dippin’.”

She raked her nails down his back. He slid his hands up to her spine and lifted her, suspending her on nothing but his cock.

Again and again he plunged into her body, taking what he wanted, which he’d never done before. He’d fucked plenty of women, but this…

When she stiffened and began to contract around his length, he gave in to the sensation and came. Hot jets spurted into the condom. He roared his release even as she cried out.

As he slowly lowered her to the ground and collapsed on top of her, he had no idea what to do about the small flutter in his chest. He was fucked.

“More texts,” he called into the bathroom. Ruthie was taking a long, luxurious bath he’d poured for her himself. He’d dumped in copious amounts of lavender-scented bath salts to soothe her. After all that sex, she needed some TLC.

“I’ll get them later.” Her voice sounded strange.

“You going to be okay for a bit, doll? I’ve been summoned. I need to meet with the boss man.”

Another text alert sounded, and he stared at her phone, lying a few feet away.

He wanted to ask but her personal life was none of his business. His job was to keep her happy—and screaming with release—for a week. Except, this felt far from a job.

“I’m just going to finish my bath. Then maybe I’ll nap,” she said from the depths of the tub.

Her phone bleeped again.

“Andrew,” Damian muttered. “Son of a bitch.”

He resisted the urge to hurl the phone into the flowerbed and raised his voice to be heard. “Okay, doll. Sleep well, because I have plans for you later.”

The pressure in his chest mounted. And dammit, he wasn’t ready to accept it as jealousy. No. She was not his. She was a guest on the ranch, and he was taking care of her for a week. When she left…

She’ll go back to Asshole Andrew.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed his knuckles over his jaw. What was Andrew’s importance in Ruthie’s life? They’d obviously shared a bed, but that must not have kept her in it. She was here.

A certain amount of smugness settled in Damian. On his way to the bunkhouse to clean up, he stopped at an outdoor trough. He gripped the old-fashioned pump handle and cupped his hand under the spout. Ice-cold water flooded his hand. He brought the spring water to his mouth and drank. Then drank again.

He doffed his hat and scraped his wet fingers through his hair.

Paul rounded the corner and almost plowed right into Damian. He skidded to a halt. “Sorry, man.”

“Running from someone?” Damian joked, craning his neck to peek around the corner and catching sight of Jack’s retreating back.

“What? No.” In the past Paul’s voice might have held a note of defensiveness. Now he just sounded tired.

Damian clapped him on the back. “How’s your first week on the job?”

Paul’s lips turned up at one corner. “Good.”

“Just good? Need advice?” Damian eyed him in a way that made it evident he was joking.

“Hell, no. I can hold my own.” He threw a look around the corner then redirected his attention to Damian. “Thanks for speaking up for me first at the vote. I think a lot of guys followed your lead.”

“Nah. You’ve always been one of us. We’ve been hanging out together since I started, and you’re friends with most of the guys.” He only said “most” because of Riggs. However, lately Riggs had seemed to lighten up—not starting a fistfight during the vote could only be a good sign.

Paul kicked at a tuft of grass, his new boots growing dustier with every swipe of his foot.

“Something bothering you?”

He looked up, jaw set hard. “A couple of the guys like to push me too far, that’s all.”

Damian cocked his head. “Need me to have a word?”

“No. I’ll handle it.”

“Is it Ty? He’s always picking on us.”

“Not Ty. It’s…Jack. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Paul’s subdued tone convinced Damian.

“All right. If I can make him slack off, I will. Jack can be hard to swallow.”

Paul rubbed a hand over his face, but not before Damian caught the pink tinge on his cheeks. “I’m good, thanks. I’ll just…grab a bite to eat.” He threw Damian a wave and strode toward the grub house.

As he watched him go, Damian couldn’t help but wonder what was going on between the newest Boot Knocker and Jack. But he thought he knew.

Of all the people for Jack to set his sights on.

Chapter Six

Damian had dolled her up again. He’d come to the bungalow with arms full of frilly, sheer and lacy stuff. A pair of hot pink panties dangled from his index finger, and he gave her a slow, toe-curling smile.

Ruthie had abruptly sat on the sofa, unable to keep her knees from quivering. Sure, she’d done this once. But she’d figured he’d gotten his fill, despite his promise to get his camera out again.

The idea of letting him photograph her made her instantly wet. Could she really show off for him the way she wanted to?

She stood in front of the full-length bathroom mirror, gazing at Damian’s first choice of outfits for her—a black push-up bra edged in white lace, long black satin gloves, garter belt and stockings…and those panties were crotchless.

The opening allowed cool air to circulate around her wet folds, tormenting her. She tugged the gloves closer to her elbows and did a half-turn to see her backside.

Oh God.
She couldn’t go out like this. She felt as if she should be wearing a puffy white tail.

“Ruthie,” he called through the door, voice low and sexy as hell. Her nipples hardened.

In the two days she’d been here, she’d transformed into a more authentic version of herself, embracing her own beliefs instead of her parents’. Now she was standing here in a few strings and scraps of lace, dressed for a role. Except she didn’t feel as if she was acting. Deep inside her stomach was warm with the thought of getting in front of Damian’s camera.

Her cell phone rested on the marble countertop. A text notification popped up, from Andrew of course. He’d been texting incessantly for hours. Where was she? Was she upset with him? Would she hit the movies and the steakhouse with him later?

She hadn’t yet responded to a single text, unable to bring herself to lie or skirt his questions. She just wanted to be left alone.

With Damian.

A light knock at the door, and Damian’s voice came through again. “Ruthie, everything okay? I’m rock-hard out here, waiting for you.”

That did it. Want sliced through her, and the crotchless panties didn’t slake her need.

She flipped her phone facedown and went to the door. As she opened it for Damian, her heart tripped. Slowly, she let her gaze tick upward to meet his, shocked to see him looking at her face when her breasts were bursting from her bra and her pussy lips had to be glistening with her juices.

She shivered.

“You okay, doll?” The way he drawled that left her breathless. She could only nod.

He’d showered and shaved. While he looked ruggedly handsome, she sort of missed the red hair coating his jaw. She’d definitely miss it between her thighs. Her clit pulsed.

“Hey.” He knuckled her chin up to meet his gaze and sagged at the knees to better see her. His eyes were alive in that way she couldn’t get enough of. It was like crack to a lonely woman. How many others had been affected by his eyes?

He slid a hand down her spine and rested it at the crest of her buttocks. “You look entrancing.”

Smooth talker.

“Do you cowboys have a handbook of good lines to deliver to us women? Seems as if you’ve read the book twice.”

He jerked back, letting his hand fall from her ass. Spinning toward the bedroom, he said, “I’ve got the equipment set up.”

Feeling a little cold at his reaction, she slowly advanced into the room. He’d left the bed deliciously rumpled, the pillows fluffed and ready for her.

His eyes turned soft. “There’s no handbook. No training. This is just me talking.” He lightly thumped his chest with a fist, his gaze steady but some of the light extinguished in his eyes. She’d probably offended him by talking about work. Maybe this cowboy didn’t like to be reminded.

She extended a hand. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes flared in surprise. “Ruthie, for what?” He’d never called her anything but doll, and his use of her name felt somehow more intimate. She started to quiver.

She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. He crossed the room to her and brushed her long, highlighted hair over her shoulder. The ticklish touch felt like foreplay.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Ever. Now let’s get you in bed. I have some poses in mind.” He guided her to the bed and positioned her on her side, legs arranged so they probably looked sexier than they ever had.

“Cup your chin in your hand, look a little playful.”

She stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes, and he burst out laughing. He went around the bed to adjust a window blind. When the sun’s glow kissed her skin, he lifted his camera.

“Relax into it like you did yesterday. Yes, that’s better.” He dropped his camera to stare at her. His dark, heavy-lidded expression was the biggest turn-on ever. Her lips parted on a sigh.

Snap.

“Wrap your hair around your finger. Fuck, yes.”

Instead of looking at the camera, she let her gaze wander over his body. His jeans were perfectly worn, and a white T-shirt molded to his chiseled torso. “There’s a hole in your jeans.”

Without looking for it, a grin spread over his face. “Uh-huh.”

The hole was quite small and located by his crotch. Basically he’d caught her examining his bulge. A flush crept over her face.

Damian groaned. “Damn, you’re gorgeous. One more in this position, then I want you on your knees.”

That thought sent dirty images racing through her head. He’d gone down on her plenty but she hadn’t taken him into her mouth yet. Her pussy squeezed hard, releasing a trickle of moisture. She let her thighs fall apart, suddenly eager for him to see how aroused he made her.

His growl of appreciation made her desire spike.
Snap.

Without his prodding, she got onto her knees, legs spread, one hand dipping over her pussy.

“Just…don’t move.” He snapped half a dozen from different angles before whispering, “Move your hand slightly.”

She hesitated, suddenly pulled from the moment and dropped back into reality. She was a schoolteacher, half-naked and letting a virtual stranger photograph her. This could cost her so much if the pictures were ever leaked. Her parents would disown her for sure, and they were all she had.

No, I’m an adult. And I give my consent.

He arched a brow. “Trust me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” She let her hand fall away.

“Shit. Ruthie, doll. Your pussy is so swollen and wet. What are you thinking about?”

About sucking your cock.
Could she say that?

The revelation struck her hard. How had she grown so attached to him in such a short time? She ranked the experience up there with something she’d perform on a man she loved long after they were married. Blowjobs were fine, but she couldn’t ask.

She shook her head.

“Please,” he drawled, camera to his eye so she could only see his mouth. He ran his tongue over his lower lip.

She mewled with need and dipped her index finger between her thickened pussy lips, right over her clit. He dropped to his knees and took several close-ups that she should be mortified over. But with just the two of them here in this moment, she felt only sexy and desired.

“Rub it a little for me.” His voice sounded gritty, as if he’d swallowed glass.

A moan escaped as she circled her straining nubbin. She ached to thrust her finger inside.

“Hell. Does that feel good?”

“Mmm.”

“Now tell me what you’re thinking.”

She shook her head.

He lowered the camera and looked up at her. “Ruthie, tell me.”

How could she resist that command? She murmured, “I’m thinking about how your cock would feel in my mouth.”

He launched to his feet, the camera abandoned on the floor. In one swift move, he wrapped his arms around her and threw her back onto the bed. Then he covered her with his powerful body.

The clash of their mouths was fuel to a fire. She moaned, and he swallowed it, feeding her his own. Their tongues tangled, and he drove two fingers right into her pussy. She cried out, nearly splintering at the intrusion. But he only stuffed them deeper, giving her that impossible fullness she craved.

He tongue-fucked her mouth. Between kisses and finger thrusts, he said, “You want me in your mouth? Want to swallow every inch of me, take me in the back of your throat?”

God, she did. She’d do just about anything for it. She nodded, eyes pinched shut at the erotic images he painted. He didn’t move his fingers, but somehow she felt as if he’d inched deeper.

Suddenly he pulled his fingers free and reared onto his knees. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked, holding her gaze. Her body hummed with need.

When he pulled his fingers out with a slurping noise, she reached for his waistband at the same time he did. Their fingers met, and together they freed his cock. The thick length slid into her hand, heavy with need.

She panted for air.

“Fuck. Doll, I want you.”

She nodded, and he scooted up the bed until his swollen head hung over her lips. She opened her mouth, and he fed her his cock. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever known.

She accepted him as far as she could. Clamping her fingers around the base, she tried to bring him deeper. Their gazes met, and he groaned. He cupped her jaw. “You’re so fucking hot. So gorgeous.”

Digging her fingers into his ass, she drew him closer. The musky scent and flavor of him sent her spiraling out of control. She licked a path down his shaft then back up to swirl around his head. A bead of pre-come hit her tongue, and they both moaned.

She increased the suction, pulling on him as he bucked his hips. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy everything about him, wanting to give him as much pleasure as he’d given her in the past two days.

When she opened her eyes, she caught his head thrown back, bliss scrawled over his features. She hollowed her cheeks, and he growled. From this angle he looked bigger, more layered with muscle…and more gorgeous. As his cock slid over her tongue, she memorized him.

The tattoos stood out against his skin. She wanted to trace the shape of the heart held in the inked palm, to know the man inside and out.

A shuddering breath left her. God, she was getting too deep. She couldn’t let him hold her heart in his hand like the tattoo.

He stiffened. She met his gaze. And he erupted onto her tongue. She swallowed reflexively, but after the first flood, she gulped eagerly. He roared his release, and she clung to him with her lips and tongue and hands, drawing him as close as possible.

When he slowed his movements, heat bloomed in her face.

With a quiet noise, he pulled free and stretched out beside her, pulling her so tightly against him, she could barely draw a deep breath. He stroked her hair for a long minute while she listened to his racing heart slow.

Finally she gave in and traced the heart in the palm of the hand on his chest. “‘I carry your heart with me…’”

He fell dead still as the poem died on her lips. She pulled her hand back and stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He planted a hand on her back and pinned her to him. “Don’t ever apologize to me, Ruthie. Between us, there’s nothing to be sorry for. What is that a line from? A song?”

Surprise claimed her. “A poem by ee eummings. I thought the tattoo’s meaning…”

He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it, but it fits, doesn’t it?”

“So well,” she breathed. Her emotions rioted. The way Damian held her felt so much like what she imaged love to be. She threw herself into the physical part because they’d meshed from the start. But he wasn’t hers. She was in this bed with him because she’d paid for a vacation.

“I got that tattoo at a rough time in my life. I’d lost my way, and I only had my heart left. So I wanted to show how I’d kept a tight hold on it.”

She looked up at him. He stared straight up at the ceiling fan, mouth tight.

Running a hand over his tattoo and down to his sculpted abs, she said, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Tell me the poem.”

As she did, he closed his eyes. She studied him, etching this moment into her soul.

Sharing a delicious meal with Ruthie under the stars and listening to her talk was the most decadent pleasure Damian could imagine. They had the veranda outside the grub house all to themselves, strangely enough. At times this area was packed. Damian had caught more than one couple in the throes of ecstasy out here too.

Ruthie shined like a jewel under the velvet sky. She’d twisted her hair and pinned it up. A few tendrils swung down to kiss her jaw, tormenting the hell out of him. And she wore a navy dress with thread-thin straps that crisscrossed over her upper back. The waist tucked in and then flared over her hips. As she’d dressed, he’d watched her. When she’d asked him to zip her, his heart had stuttered.

She raised her napkin and wiped her lips. “This is amazing food.”

“Cook outdid herself tonight,” he agreed. Prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes, asparagus and a perfect Hollandaise sauce.

Ruthie cut off a small bite and popped the steak into her mouth.

“It’s nice to see a woman eating beef.”

Her lips tipped up as she chewed and swallowed. “Do so many women not eat beef?”

“You’d be surprised.” He speared some asparagus and let it hover near his lips. “When you come to Texas, you should have beef. If you don’t, you break a law or something.”

She giggled. “Well, this is perfect. Those women should be in jail.”

He dropped his head, pressure mounting in his chest. He wasn’t usually sensitive to his past, but right now he wished more than anything he didn’t have a record. He wished like hell he was worthy of a woman like Ruthie.

No, worthy of
Ruthie
.

“We never had good food like this while I was growing up,” she went on, oblivious to his discomfort.

“No?” He put the asparagus in his mouth, but didn’t really taste it.

“No, it was a sin.”

At that, he laughed. “Food is a sin?”

She paused with another bite of beef halfway to her full lips and nodded. “Gluttony.”

“Ah, yes.” He relaxed a bit and finished his vegetable.

BOOK: Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2
9.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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