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8 SECOND RIDE

A Studs in Spurs Free Read

Cat Johnson

8 Second Ride

Copyright © Cat Johnson, 2009

Cover art by Cat Johnson

ISBN AREFREE00027

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events or locales is coincidental.

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodies in critical articles and reviews.

And the clock starts…

Chase stood in awe, taking in the towering stone columns on either side of him. His gaze followed them up, up, up to what seemed to him to be a mansion compared to the tiny farmhouse he’d grown up in.

Ms. Jensen—Jenny as she’d requested he call her when she drove them here—cleared her throat.

“Chase? Are you coming in or not?” She stood on the top step, hands planted firmly on her hips, obviously waiting for him to follow.

The house had been impressive enough to draw his attention away from watching her heart-shaped ass sway as she climbed the sprawling front steps, and that was saying something.

“You live here?”

“I sure do.” The woman flashed him a wide smile full of perfect, bright white teeth. She descended the few stairs that separated them and planted one hand on his Rookie of the Year belt buckle. “Now, come on.” She pretty much dragged him up the remainder of the stairs and through a door big enough for him to ride a bull through.

The sound of his boots on the marble floor echoed off the walls of the front hall. He hadn’t seen a place this big or fancy since he’d been to a museum while the tour was in New York City a few months back.

Taking off his hat now that he was indoors—he may not have been raised in a house like this, but he still knew his manners—Chase looked up the massive staircase leading to the open second floor with its many doors. “It’s, um, real nice.”

“Are you gonna talk about my damn house all day, or are you gonna kiss me?” She stepped closer until her chest practically touched his. Her finger traced a path down his shirt, directly toward what he hoped would be her ultimate goal.

There was no decision to be made. Sure as he was standing there, Chase was going to kiss her, and more too, good lord willing. He’d only begun to lower his head toward hers when her manicured fingernails slipped through his hair and she crashed into him for a tongue tangling lip lock.

She pulled away to ask, “Do you have condoms?” Condoms. Plural. And his friends were always picking on him for liking his women a little older. No eighteen-year-old girl would have asked that question in the first thirty seconds they were alone.

Chase grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I do.” When did the circuit come through Texas again? He sure wouldn’t mind a repeat with her when he was in town next.

Looking like the devil had gotten into her, she flashed him another smile full of promise. “Good. Follow me.” As if she could stop him.

She grabbed his hand and led him into a room that would make any man cream in his pants whether there was a female in it or not.

“Holy shit! Is that regulation size?” Chase strode to the most beautiful carved wooden pool table he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Yup.” She stepped closer and gave one of the balls a shove. It clacked off the rails and into a pocket. “You like it?”

“Hell, yeah.” Who wouldn’t?

“Good. Then take off those jeans of yours and let’s give this thing a try, shall we?”

While Chase was still absorbing that order, her hands made short work of her own button and zipper. He managed to get his hands onto his belt buckle, but the sudden appearance of her tiny lace panties and mile long legs capped off with high heels had him staring.

She got tired of waiting for him to do it himself and undid his buckle and jeans for him. That knocked him out of his trance pretty fast. He had to toe his boots off before stepping out of his pants, but then he was ready for action.

“Lift me up,” she ordered.

Oh, yeah
. Chase lifted her weight easily onto the pool table.

Lying back on her elbows, she licked her lips and waited. He swallowed hard, the thought of what those lips could do to him making him start to shake.

“What are you waiting for? That condom’s not gonna put itself on, sugar.”

Wait until the boys back at the arena heard about this.

He bent and retrieved his wallet from his jeans, sliding two condoms out of a hidden pocket. He thanked God his friend Mustang had taught him to always carry more than one, just in case. The older riders could teach you far more than just how to stay on a bull. Chase intended to learn all he could.

Sliding the spare and his wallet back into his pants, he made short work of his boxers, kicking them down his legs and onto the floor. He was rock hard, so that wasn’t an issue, but slipping on the condom took a few tries. It was inside out at first, but he figured that out pretty quick and then he was finally prepared. So was she apparently. She’d pushed those red panties off and was twirling them temptingly on one finger.

Chase stepped in between her thighs. She was waxed to within an inch of her life and he sure liked the view. He ran his hand over the smooth, hairless skin before getting brave and sliding a finger down her slit, and then inside her. The feel of her, hot and already wet, had his heart racing faster.

“Let’s get to the good stuff. There’s no time for messing around with foreplay.” She wiggled her hips closer to the edge of the table.

“Sure thing.” He usually enjoyed the foreplay, but hell, a woman in a hurry to get to the good stuff wasn’t a bad thing. She was so ready for him, he plunged inside easily. Urged by her hands on his hips, he withdrew and then went in for another go round.

“Yes. Harder.” Throwing her head back, she let go with her hands and clamped her legs around his waist tighter than he did during a bull ride.

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned, always happy to please a lady.

The adrenaline from the competition had subsided, but the euphoria remained. Damn, the way he felt, he could go all night and he intended to. When they ran out of condoms, he’d just have to get creative. He’d learned a few ways to get creative with women from Mustang too.

Glancing down at the greedy expression on her face as he pounded into her, Chase had no doubt she’d be up for anything.

He was just really getting into the rhythm when a sound from the front of the house broke into his consciousness. Chase halted mid-motion. “What was that?”

“Nothing. Keep going.” Panting, she grabbed at his hips.

Thrusting forward again, Chase was ready to write off what he’d thought he heard to his imagination, when he definitely heard the front door slam shut.

“Darlin’, I’m home.”

And that was definitely a man’s voice calling out from the foyer.

Chase’s eyes flew open wide as he stared down at her.

“Who is that?”

She smiled, looking like the devil himself truly had possessed her. “My husband.”

“Your husband! What the hell? Are you trying to get me killed?” Still buried deep inside her, he struggled to get free, but her hold on him was too tight. The damn woman had leg muscles like a pro bull rider.

“No. I’m trying to teach him he can’t go running around the country on so-called business trips with his slutty little secretary.” She struggled against his efforts to get loose, then, worse, she called out, “Hey, baby. I’m in the game room.”

“Holy crap! Are you crazy?”

Chase finally freed himself from her clench, bent down and scooped up his belongings. Looking frantically for any way out beside the doorway through which her husband was about to walk, he spotted glass doors that opened onto a terrace. He sprinted bare-assed outside, his rapidly deflating, condom-covered erection leading the way.

“What the fuck!”

With one hand braced on the railing, Chase barely considered the eight foot drop to the ground as her husband’s booming voice behind him announced he hadn’t gotten away unseen.

Chase landed on the ground, falling hard on one knee before scrambling up and running for the back of the property. Daring to glance back, he saw one very angry and extremely large husband swearing at him over the railing, before the man turned around and ran back inside. Then there was the sound of a car engine firing up in the driveway.

“Shit.” Chase tripped. He crashed into the trunk of a tree, the bark scraping the skin of his hip. Clothes and boots clutched to his chest and dick still hanging out, he kept running. If he could get into a neighbor’s yard and hide, he could at least get dressed and maybe wait it out until the coast was clear.

The backyard was the size of baseball field. It left him out in the open, naked and probably about to be shot. That thought motivated him to run a little faster.

By the time he got to the neighbor’s property, he heard the squeal of tires as a red convertible fishtailed around the corner of the next block. He considered running back, but these damn rich people had such huge yards, by the time he got to the other street, the angry husband would be there waiting for him. It was kind of like being a runner stuck between the bases as the first and second basemen tossed the ball back and forth.

Chase ran through the neighbor’s yard, leaping over flowers and in one case, an unhappy cat, as the car got closer. He figured this was it. His life was over, and all for a few seconds inside a woman. Then a suped-up, black pickup truck coming from the other direction swerved onto the lawn of the house nearest him.

The door flung open. “Get in.”

Not one to question the generosity of strangers with his life on the line, Chase jumped in. The truck took off before he’d even swung the door shut, speeding past the angry husband who threw the car into a spin and began following them.

The dark-haired guy driving let out an excited whoop, grinning at Chase. “Sweet. Did you see how that car handles?”

He sure had, in between pulling his underwear up his legs and trying to catch his breath. Chase had noticed the condom still hanging off his now limp dick. With a quick look at the stranger who’d saved him to make sure he was looking at the road, Chase pulled the rubber off. He flung it out the open window. One backward glance told him that had been a really bad idea. It hit the windshield of the sports car behind them and stuck there. Nothing like literally throwing it in the guy’s face that he’d just been fucking his wife.

Chase spun back in his seat. “He’s gaining on us.” And now he was really pissed, as if he hadn’t been before.

“Well, yeah. Of course he is. That thing’s got way more horsepower than I do, but we have something he doesn’t.”

He didn’t know what that was, but he did know if he was going to die, he’d do it with his boots on. Chase struggled into his jeans and had one boot in his hand before he asked, “What do we have that he doesn’t?” Whatever it was, they were sure going to need it. Boots finally on, he got up the nerve to look backward once more.

Holding on with one hand to stay in his seat as his new friend took a turn too fast, Chase watched the car pursuing them swerve from one side of the road to the other, trying to get alongside them.

“We’ve got four-wheel drive.” Looking like he was enjoying this a bit too much, the driver swerved off the road and headed directly for the creek running alongside it.

The truck crashed down the bank and through the water as the car skidded to a stop behind them.