Bucked (10 page)

Sage glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. Seven-thirty and Mustang still hadn’t returned her call after she’d left him a voicemail hours ago.

She debated whether to call again, then talked herself out it. How pitiful would she look? Calling a guy over and over again when he didn’t call her back. Especially a guy like Mustang.

She had yet to discover where he’d disappeared to for two Saturdays in a row. He was always so vague when she hinted around for information.

Scrubbing her hands over her face in sheer frustration, she pushed the chair back from the desk. She got so crazy thinking about him she could barely sit still in her seat. She thought of him day and night, remembering the roughness of his hands on her bare skin.

The heat of his tongue on her.

She couldn’t concentrate on schoolwork. Her mind kept going back to the too few times she and Mustang had been alone together and how he avoided having actual sex with her no matter how much she hinted. If taking off her underwear and laying herself out like a picnic on the blanket didn’t tell him she was ready and willing, what would?

This whole thing was confusing.

Maybe she was crazy for wanting him. Wanting to have sex with the town bad boy she’d loved since puberty while knowing he was leaving town again in a few months was insane.

Sage was so deep in her thoughts her phone ringing made her jump.

Mustang.

She flung herself forward to grab the cell phone lying on the desk and answered it.

“Hey, Little Bit. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I just figured out now how to get your message off my phone.” The voice that made her tingle inside filled her ear.

He sounded weary. Whatever mysterious errand he’d gone on today must have been really strenuous.

“That’s okay.” She’d only spent a few hours in self-imposed agony. No big deal.

“You said something in your message about a plan?”

Sage had wracked her brain for an excuse to be alone with him again and had finally come up with the perfect one. Well, maybe not perfect, but it was something.

“The bull-riding competition is on television tonight. I remember you saying you don’t have a TV in your bedroom there and I figured your parents wouldn’t watch it in the living room, so I thought you might want to come over here and watch it with me.”
In my
room. On my bed.

She was babbling. She knew that. But that’s what Mustang did to her sometimes. Especially lately. It was like she was a twelve-year-old with dorky glasses and braces all over again.

Sage thought she’d die waiting for him to answer, but finally he did. “Okay. I’ll be over in a little while.”

“Great. See you soon.” Flipping the phone closed, she dropped it on the desk and sprung into action. She had to straighten the room and change clothes.

What the hell should she wear? She’d better brush her teeth too. With any luck, there’d be kissing, and hopefully much more.

Maybe she should put new sheets on the bed. Then again, what was she thinking? Her grandmother was home. Kissing was one thing, but doing anything more was quite another. Particularly the one thing she really wanted to do with Mustang.

She had just finished up in the bathroom and was checking her reflection in the mirror when she heard voices in the kitchen.

“Thanks, Grams. I’m good. I ate dinner at home.” Mustang’s voice grew louder as he came down the hallway toward her room.

Letting out a long, steadying breath, Sage tried to strike a pose that looked casual. No, she hadn’t just flown around like a maniac getting ready for his arrival. She always lounged around her room at night wearing lip gloss and a flirty sundress that provided easy access to her brand new lacey panties, should anyone be interested in gaining access.

Sure.

She had it bad. Sage shook her head at how pitiful she was just as Mustang appeared in the open doorway. He raised a fist and rapped his knuckles softy on the wood frame. “Knock, knock.”

“Hey.” Her voice sounded breathy in her own ears. “Come on in. Um, I think it’s starting soon. I guess I should turn on the TV

and find the right channel.”

He dipped his head in agreement and walked in, glancing around the room. His gaze went from the bed to the one chair.

“You can get comfortable. The best view of the television is from the bed.” If he sat in her desk chair she’d never have a chance of attacking him.

“Okay.” He perched on the edge of the bed, his boots still on the floor as he sat up straight with his back against the headboard. He looked uncomfortable but at least he was on the bed where she could sit next to him.

Sage heard the television out in the living room, loud and in Spanish, and knew her grandmother had settled into her chair for the night where she’d most likely fall asleep.

Rosemary used to sneak boys into her room after their grandmother had gone to sleep all the time. Sage tried to remember that as she felt guilty about plotting on how best to seduce Mustang under her grandmother’s roof.

She remembered the purpose of his visit and turned on her own TV, grabbing the remote control off the top and carrying it back to the bed. She perched on the other side of the bed, but since it was a twin-size they were still pretty close. For the first time in recent years she was happy the mattress was so narrow.

Finding the right channel, she turned the volume up just enough that they could hear it and set the remote on the bed table. “It looks like it just started.”

“Yup.”

He was in a strange mood. “You look tired.”

“A little.” Mustang shrugged. “Long day.”

Sage jumped on the chance. “Yeah? What did you do?”

“Work.”

Hmm. A one-word answer. It must have been a really bad day. Sage groaned in commiseration. “You have a bad drive with your dad?”

“No. Different work.” His short answers told her he didn’t want to talk about it.

“Oh. Okay.” Sage folded her hands in her lap and pretended to care about what was happening on screen.

She heard Mustang sigh and then his arm was around her shoulder. Luckily, he’d sat on the side that put the good arm, the one not in the sling, next to her.

Sage glanced sideways at Mustang and he answered her unspoken question. “I think I could use a hug.”

Mustang Jackson, the mighty bull rider, asking for a hug. Even in the old days when his father had taken a switch to him for something he’d done, or possibly hadn’t done, he’d never asked anyone for a hug. Not Rosemary or Grams or her. Something was definitely up. Her gaze met his.

“Lucky for you, I’m good at giving hugs.”

Still looking sad, he managed a crooked, half-smile. “I know.”

As she leaned into his arm, he tipped his head down, brushing her forehead with his lips. Tilting her head up, she touched her lips to his chin, then kissed her way to the corner of his mouth. Mustang hesitated but it didn’t take any more coaxing before his lips met hers full-on.

In mid-kiss, he pulled away. “Your grandmother.”

“She’s settled in front of her programs. We won’t see her for the rest of the night.”

He drew in a deep breath and then he was kissing her again. This time deeper and with more energy. He didn’t seem tired anymore. Mustang only stopped kissing her long enough to slip the sling off his neck. His hand came up to cup her breast. He ran a thumb over her nipple through the fabric of her dress. She felt it harden under his touch.

She groaned then broke away. “Is your arm okay?”

“Arm? What arm?” He lowered his head to trail kisses along her neck.

He pushed the top of her dress down with her bra and took her nipple between his lips, torturing her with his teeth and tongue.

Eyes closed, Sage leaned back against the pillows, memorizing every sensation that shot through her. His mouth sent electrical current straight through every part of her body. She wanted more.

Sage guided her hand on a path up Mustang’s thigh toward the long, hard bulge straining the zipper. She’d tasted him, felt what it was like to have the length of him in her mouth. She wanted it elsewhere.

She stroked him through his jeans and he moaned, letting her breast pop out of his mouth.

“We’re not going any further than this.” The warning sounded stern and definite, until she stroked him again, harder. He closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath. “You are going to be the death of me, woman.”

“Mmm, but it will be a fun way to go.” Smiling, Sage took advantage of his weakening defenses. She felt for the tab of his zipper until his hand clamped down over hers.

“You are a determined little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled.

It was nice to hear him laugh, even if he wasn’t letting her have her way. Maybe the subtle approach didn’t work on Mustang.

Steeling her nerves, Sage gathered her courage. “I want you.”

“I want you too, Sage, but we can’t always have what we want.”

She tried to move her hand to touch him again, but he held her firmly.

“Why won’t you make love to me?”

He laughed. “Besides the fact your grandmother is in the next room?”

Sage felt the pout form on her lips. “But even at the lake you wouldn’t.”

Mustang drew in a deep breath. “I told you. I’m no good for you.”

“I don’t care.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I know you don’t and I’m a bad enough man to take advantage of that.”

She scowled. “You haven’t taken advantage of me.” Not nearly as much as she would have liked him to.

“Yeah, I have. I’ve selfishly convinced myself that what we’re doing is okay as long as that’s as far as it goes.”

“Ah. The Bill-Clinton definition of sexual relations. As long as it’s not actual intercourse it doesn’t count.” She let out a snort as she finally understood Mustang’s plan and his reluctance to have sex with her.

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess something like that.”

Sage shook her head. “I hate to tell you, Mustang, but just because we haven’t, you know, doesn’t mean what we’ve done isn’t sex.”

The expression on his face grew serious.

“You’re right.” Mustang pulled his arm from around her shoulders. “That’s why we have to stop doing anything at all.”

Oh, no. That wasn’t the result she had been looking for. “What? No. That’s why we should just go for it and go all the way.”

“No.” Mustang shook his head.

“You can’t put the spilled milk back in the carton, Mustang. We’ve already done a whole bunch of things. Stopping now won’t change what happened.” She folded her arms and frowned.

He laughed, tapping her lips with his fingertip.

“You are adorable when you pout.” He sighed. “But you’re right about the milk. We sure have spilt a whole bunch. How about we just go back to doing what we were before?”

“Okay. For now.”

Hoping he was referring to the kissing and orgasms and not watching television, she inched her hand up his thigh. Laughing, he pulled her close again with one arm around her shoulder. “I can feel your hand on my zipper again, Little Bit. I told you no.”

He’d caught her red-handed. “But we’ve already done that, so it’s allowed.”

Mustang lowered his voice. “Even so, I’m not going to sit here in your bedroom with my dick out and your grandmother in the living room.”

“Fine. Be that way.” Sage crossed her arms again.

Laughing, Mustang’s hand moved down and began a journey up the inside of her bare leg. “Maybe I could make it up to you in some way.”

“Maybe.” She continued to scowl, but moved her legs wider as he dipped his finger beneath the edge of her panties. He moved, smooth and sure, right to where she needed him to be, zeroing in on her most sensitive spot.

Her moan caught in her throat and she closed her eyes. Sage raised her hips off the bed as he circled his finger. She pressed harder against his hand but it wasn’t enough.

She let out a groan of frustration and then felt his breath warm against her face. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

“More.”

Chuckling, Mustang slid a finger inside and started to perform his special magic. A small sound escaped her.

“Better?” Hearing the self-satisfied smile in his voice, she didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up and pulled his lips down to meet hers as her body started to shake. He groaned against her mouth as she came.

She never wanted the moment to end. Eventually the orgasm did end, but the kissing continued until he pulled away suddenly and sat up.

“What’s wrong?”

He shushed her softly, all of his attention on the television across the room. He stood and moved closer to the set.

Pushing her dress back down her legs, she got up too and walked over to where he stood next to the television.

She saw what had Mustang’s attention and a lump formed in her throat. She pushed the button on the front of the set to raise the volume.

An announcer’s voice filled her room. “Skeeter’s glove is still caught up in his rope. The bull fighters are trying to get him loose but Six String is not slowing down.”

She watched in horror as what looked more like a rag doll than a man got tossed and dragged by the giant bull.

“Come on,” Mustang whispered. “Fuck. The rope won’t release. Dammit, Skeeter.”

He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

The bull and rider were finally separated, which only allowed the bull to turn and more effectively tromp on the rider’s motionless body on the ground. A bunch of men jumped in, grabbing the bull by the horns, smacking it in the ass, anything to draw its attention away from the rider, which was the sole center of its attention.

A horse and rider appeared on screen, throwing a rope around the bull’s horns to help get him away from the injured man. Finally the bull was chased out of the arena as the announcer kept up his running commentary.

“The sports medicine team is with Skeeter. You never can tell at this point how bad the injuries are.”

The camera’s zoomed in closer and Sage watched the motionless, crumpled figure on the ground with horror. The packed arena was as silent as her bedroom as everyone waited. A stretcher was brought out and the station cut to a commercial.