Cowboy Redeemed (8 page)

“I’ve got some experience riding a feisty mare.” His expression was pure wicked male. “Got the scratch marks to prove it. I’ll add riding lessons to your curriculum, first lesson tonight.”

Oh, Clay Mathis was a dangerous charmer.

She licked over her bottom lip. Slowly. His gaze locked on the movement, so she did it again. She feigned a look of innocence. “You sure you don’t want to rearrange my schedule, Mr. Mathis? Move that lesson up a bit?”

An animalistic growl rumbled from Clay’s chest. He spun her toward the house and popped her on the ass with a little shove to get her moving. “Go throw on some jeans. Then saddle up, cowgirl. It’s time to have a little fun.”

Chapter Nine

Clay steered them toward a grouping of large cypress trees.

Ainsley’s riding skills were primitive, but she’d proven she could keep her ass in a saddle and direct the beast—if somewhat clumsily—where she wanted to go. Good thing ole Timber seemed content to stroll alongside Whiskey without much more than a few quiet urgings from Clay.

Ainsley asked questions and listened while he answered. She hadn’t interrupted. Hadn’t doubted his ability to teach her. Her determination to learn about the things he took for granted—riding and ranching—humbled him. She was dead serious about making a go of it.

He’d directed their ride first toward the section bordering Shadow Maverick and then circled back around. Clay hadn’t seen nearly all of what he needed to see of the land, but it had been a good start.

One thing he hadn’t seen was cattle. There were a few stray head here and there, but nowhere near the numbers Nelson used to run in this section. Made him wonder if the rumors Gavin had heard were less small-town gossip and more fact.

Ainsley had told the jackass in the fancy sports car that he hadn’t offered her a
solution
. Clay had taken her comment to mean money wasn’t important to her. That left one thing—the land. After learning about her childhood, it made sense. She wanted roots, something to call her own.

He could relate. His stake in Shadow Maverick wasn’t small. The ranch would always be his livelihood, his home. But that didn’t mean he wanted to live in a trailer forever. When he was a boy, he’d dreamed of building a place with his own two hands. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea. He wasn’t getting any younger. He was scaring the shit out of thirty—only two years shy. And with his older brothers settling down, Clay figured it wasn’t unreasonable for him to consider the idea of something more permanent in his life.

Or someone.

Interesting how the notion had seemed distasteful until he’d met Ainsley.

He wasn’t ready to talk to her about the new deal for her land he had in mind. Not until he worked out the details and got his family on board. He wasn’t completely confident either side would agree, which meant he had to have his shit together before he did any talking, especially with Ainsley.

He looked over at her. “How about we rest a bit. Give that gorgeous backside of yours a break from the saddle.”

“Sounds great. I’ve been looking forward to the picnic you promised.”

Clay dismounted and kept hold of Whiskey’s reins. He waited for Ainsley to join him on the ground. He took her reins and walked the horses to the fence, where he secured them. Whiskey wouldn’t wander off, but he didn’t know about Timber. He wouldn’t mind having Ainsley share his saddle, but wasting daylight chasing a horse wasn’t his idea of a good time.

He grabbed the blanket and his saddlebag.

He shook out the blanket before spreading it on the ground. He set his food-laden saddlebag to one side. “This spot okay?”

She stared at him.

“Ains?”

“I heard you in my shower yesterday,” she blurted as though she couldn’t hold the words back. “Through the vent in the kitchen.”

He’d suspected as much. Her cheeks had been candy-apple red when he’d walked into the kitchen. Wondering why she mentioned it now, he decided to push her.

“What is it you think you heard?” He toed off one boot, then the other.

She chewed her bottom lip. Her gaze lowered to his groin and his blood rushed to meet her there.

“You touched yourself.”

Yeah, right. He hadn’t done anything so sweet and innocent since he was a boy.

He crooked a finger. “Come over here.” He waited until she complied and raised her face to look at him. “I did more than touch myself, Ainsley. I jacked off,” he said bluntly. “Hard.”

She held his gaze. God, he liked that about her. Embarrassed or turned-on—maybe a little of both—she didn’t shy away from his brash words.

“What did you think about while you … jacked off?”

“You sure you want to go there?”

She placed her palms on his chest. “Please.”

One little word and his world shrank to only her. Her needs. Her desires. Her pleasure. He was powerless to deny her any of those things.

He eased off the band restraining her hair. The blonde tresses fell, framing her sun-kissed skin. “I thought about you. I imagined your hand stroking me, squeezing me, hard and tight. It was you who cupped and tugged my balls until I couldn’t breathe. I imagined slipping between your beautiful lips, feeling the warmth of your mouth as you sucked me dry. That’s the image I held when I came.” With a rush that had made his knees weak.

She licked her lips. “I want that.”

Christ, she was hell on his control. “Ainsley…”

“I’m serious. You had your way with me last night. It’s my turn.” She fell to her knees and he almost blew then and there.

Beautiful, wondering eyes looked up at him. She hooked her fingers in his waistband. “Show me how you like it.” Mesmerized, he tracked her pretty pink tongue as it peeked out and drifted across her lips. “Teach me how to please you.”

The button on his jeans released. He swallowed hard. Cleared his throat. “You please me just by being you, Ainsley.”

She blinked up at him. “That’s a nice thing to say.”

“I’m a nice guy.” No, he wasn’t. A nice guy wouldn’t want to shove his dick down her throat. A nice guy wouldn’t dream of marking her breasts with his release. A nice fucking guy wouldn’t want to strip her naked and screw her senseless in the middle of a goddamned cow pasture.

Ainsley worked his zipper with an agonizing slowness until finally,
finally
the pressure against his straining cock released.

“Show me.” She rubbed her cheek against his length.

Clay stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside. The woman was playing with fire. And he was a complete goner.

“Take out my cock.” His quiet demand hung in the air between them. Air thickened by desire and need. “Now, Ainsley.”

Her hands shook as she went for the elastic on his shorts. Clay forced his hands to keep still at his sides. “Wrap your hand around me.”

She slid her hand inside, her fingers circling his shaft. The contact sent an electrical surge up the length of his spine. A groan tore from his throat. Every muscle in his body clenched. If her hand felt this good, her mouth would drive him to the brink of madness.

“Like this?”

He shoved his pants and shorts down to mid-thigh. He placed his hand over hers. “Tighter, like this.”

She quickly picked up the rhythm he set. His hips moved to meet her. “More, Clay. I want more.” She swayed, then swiped the head of his cock with her tongue.

“Ah, damn.” He stopped the slow roll of his hips. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He traced her sexy smirk with his thumb. “Open up, baby. Take me in your mouth.”

Her breath caressed his tip. She circled the base of his cock with her fingers, holding him tightly as her mouth came down, surrounding him in moist heat.

Pure, absolute pleasure washed through him. “That’s it, baby. Take all you want.”

His hands moved to her head, not-so-gently guiding her as she worked him with excruciating precision.

His balls tightened as her clever fingers fondled them with a confident grip. She held his cock with her other hand, firmly working it in tandem with her mouth.

His girl was a quick study. Too quick. She’d had him on the brink from the moment she’d hit her knees.

Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, she backed off. Slowed down. Let him slide from her mouth until only his tip remained. She swirled her tongue around the sensitive ridge.

“Jesus, that feels good.” Clay kept his eyes glued on the action. Sexiest goddamned thing he’d ever seen—Ainsley’s thick lashes resting against flushed cheeks as his cock stretched her lips.

As though bolstered by his praise, she gripped him harder, then took him to the back of her throat. His hands tightened in her hair, holding her there.

Fucking heaven.

She didn’t fight, didn’t try to pull away. Instead, she scraped a fingernail along the sensitive ridge behind his balls.

A string of curses fell from his lips. “Unless you want me to fill your pretty mouth, keep that finger still.” He was fighting release as it was, without the added sensation.

Her muffled response vibrated along his dick. Her lips tightened. She cupped his sac, her finger still working the sensitive flesh underneath.

And he lost his fucking mind. His spine sizzled. Sweat formed at his temples as he pumped into her mouth.

She opened her eyes, glanced up at him with liquid desire, and he let go. He came with a force that rocked him, threatened to ass-plant him on the ground—and he would have if she hadn’t been there to anchor him. She held on to him, milked him, took what he gave her until his thighs wobbled.

Her movements slowed. She released him and rocked back on her heels, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“Ainsley.” Yeah, that was the extent of his vocabulary right now.

He touched her cheek, ran his thumb over her swollen lips.

Damn, she was gorgeous.

Clay stripped off his pants and shorts. He helped Ainsley to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. He cupped her head as she nuzzled close, her hum of contentment mirroring the feeling in his chest.

This was so much more than pleasure. He enjoyed being around her, listening to the eclectic mix of north and south in her accent. Watching her eyes dance with merriment after an experimental trot with the horses. From the moment they’d met, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her.

She was a temptress. A tough-as-nails woman with a determination to rival most men he knew. Her life hadn’t been a picnic. Instead of wallowing in the shit, Ainsley stayed strong. Persevered. The world might’ve hardened her will, but the rest of her—her smile, her body, her heart—was softness personified.

Ainsley was so much more than he’d been prepared for.

Jesus.

He was straight up, no holds barred, falling for this woman.

***

Ainsley wasn’t an innocent little girl. She’d had a few sexual partners over the years. But she’d never,
never
been so bold as to suck a man
off in broad daylight. Chances of them being seen were slim-to-none, yet as he peeled her clothes from her body she felt wonderfully daring. Adventurous.

And drenched in her own arousal.

Her face heated the moment Clay knelt, slid her panties over her hips, and noticed for himself.

“Ah, now there’s a beautiful sight.” She shook when he blew a warm stream of air over her sex, gasped when his tongue darted out for a quick lick. “Did sucking me turn you on, sweetheart?”

She lifted a foot to allow him to remove her panties. Between having him at her mercy and his dirty commentary, Ainsley hadn’t stood a chance in hell of being unaffected. His raw approach to sex enticed her, made her desperate for more.

His lips brushed along her ribcage. He nuzzled the underside of her breast. “Answer me, Ainsley. Did sucking me turn you on?”

She resisted the urge to squeeze her thighs together. “See for yourself.”

He stormed to his feet, eyes dark with lust. He pointed to the blanket, a smug smile in place. “Down on your hands and knees.”

Excitement surged through her, and without hesitation, she was back on her knees. Another second and her palms hit the blanket. The prickly ground under the course fabric irritated her skin. She wiggled to dig in, smooth out the grass under her.

“Is this how you want me?” She tossed what she hoped was a look of sultry challenge over her shoulder.

A low rumble came from his chest. “I want you any way I can get you, baby.”

His fingers played along her back, tracing her shoulder blades, the line of her spine, the curves of her hipbones. “Very nice. Lean down on your elbows, Ains. Arch your back. Show me what I want to see.”

She did as he commanded. Her most private areas open and exposed. Maybe she should reconsider the level of trust she instinctively gave him. Something she’d never given any man before. Instead, she absorbed his praise, drew strength from knowing he wanted her, and felt the power of being the one to give this rugged man the satisfaction he craved.

Time played a strange game with her. She felt so at ease, so comfortable with Clay. As though they’d known each other a lifetime, not days. Being with him felt good. Right.

He didn’t give her any more time to analyze, to question what they were doing. What it all meant. His touch kept her on edge, electrifying her skin as he ran his work-roughened hands over her ass and down the backs of her legs.

“I love the way your skin feels. Soft and delicate. Love it almost as much as I love knowing you’re stronger than you look.”

He avoided touching her sex. His fingertips ventured so close she felt the heat of him. She stretched her arms forward on the blanket and pushed back with her hips, seeking his touch where she needed it the most.

Clay’s hand between her shoulder blades stopped her. “Stay there. It’s okay, Ainsley,” he soothed. “You’re okay. You’re fucking beautiful, if you want to know the truth. You take my breath away.” He knelt beside her, his big body casting a shadow across the blanket. “Look at me.”

She lifted her head. Her heart stopped, kicked hard, started again. His gaze bore into her, intense and steady, stripping her naked in a way that had nothing to do with clothes.

“I won’t hurt you. Ever. I’m demanding, but I think you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his fingertips still moving, still touching.

She stilled, holding his gaze, allowing him to touch her as he wished. “I like it. Oh god, Clay. I more than like it.” Letting go, not having to think or make decisions … he had no idea how much she needed the relief.

“Goddamn, Ainsley. The way you give me what I want drives me all kinds of crazy.”

He reached under her body to play with her nipple. A quick flick. A pinch. A tug. The sting reverberated through her like an echo, tightening her muscles, igniting pleasure as it went. Good lord, the way he touched her, gave her what
she
wanted…