Pushin' Buttons (Boot Knockers) (18 page)

He reached up her body and pinched both nipples while lapping her sweetness. She arched, and he doubled his efforts, determined to make her come twice before he took his ease.

“More,” she gasped.

Until she grabbed his hair he hadn’t realized he’d lost his hat somewhere. The sting on his scalp felt better than good. He held on to that pleasure-pain, lost in her need.

He slowed his intimate kiss, drawing out her sounds into long, primitive moans. When he pushed his tongue into her pussy, her first contraction against his mouth made his pulse pound.

With a rushing in his ears, he made a lazy flip over her clit. She burst, drenching him with delicious female juices. As he applied pressure to her clit, she tugged his hair, directing him.

After a moment he lifted his head. Even in the dark, he knew she was smiling. The white flash of her teeth gave it away even if the way she curled up and around him did not.

To think two days ago she hadn’t known this ecstasy. He grinned and his ego inflated a bit more.

He got to his feet and shuffled a few feet to the nightstand. The drawer held a stash of condoms as well as a brand new toy. He rolled on a condom. When he switched the toy on, the humming made her twist on the bed.

“You’re not using that on me, are you?”

“I’m not using it on myself, baby.” He climbed onto the bed and lay on his back. “Get on me.”

When she began to straddle him, he pinched her bottom. She squeaked. “No, not that direction. Face away.”

With her above him, the moonlight bathed her face and he was able to see the surprise cross her features.

He caressed her hip. “Trust me.”

“I do.” Without another word she positioned herself over him, facing away.

Christ, what was he thinking? Her round ass pointed in his direction was going to make him come too soon. He scrubbed his free hand over his face then slicked the small silver vibrator with her own juices.

She sank her nails into his thighs, raising a growl. He was about to recreate the best night of her life—without Riggs. Would it be enough to have Hugh and a toy?

Part of him wanted Sibyll all to himself. Sharing her was unacceptable—except with Riggs. He should be here too, dammit. Hugh felt as if part of himself had been left in the hospital.

He pumped the dildo in and out of her pussy until the wet noise reached his ears. Then he clutched her hips and pulled her down on his cock. To distract himself from the heat blazing through his system, he grunted. “If you weren’t a biologist, what would you be?”

She stilled with his cock half buried in her. The lines of her back tensed. “I don’t know. A pharmacist?”

He jerked her all the way on top of him until her pussy was flush against his body. He ground his teeth. “Wrong answer. You’d be a cowgirl.”

With a cry, she began to ride him. The angle…he shuddered. Heat climbed his walls. Before he could spill, he had to get her off. He brought the still-wet dildo to her ass.

As he rested the vibrating toy alongside her pucker, she rocked. Her body put off so much heat, he’d believe her feverish if he didn’t know better. He inserted the vibrator in her ass. Inch by slow inch it disappeared.

His balls drew up to his body, throbbing for release. When he slipped the toy the whole way in her ass, he thought he might have a heart attack. The fullness, the pressure, it mimicked having both him and Riggs in her body.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. Ride me, baby.”

She threw her head back and leaned back on her heels, gyrating on his shaft. He pulsed the dildo in her ass and felt the vibrations in his own flesh.

“Think of us—me and Riggs.” God, why had he said that? It was the throes of lust, nothing more. He went with the head-rush and kept talking. “Think of him in your ass while I fuck your pussy.”

Sibyll rocked. Biting off his roar, he twisted her hair and pulled.

The added sensation sent her sailing. Her body clamped on his cock and the vibrator, milking each. He closed his eyes. A mental picture of her and Riggs consumed him—and he lost himself to the whirling waters of the unknown.

Hugh prodded Sibyll onto her back. The first rays of sunlight burst in a star pattern over her bare form.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, nuzzling the spot between her shoulder and neck. She gave a soft sigh and hooked her arm around his shoulders.

“Again?” she murmured.

“Mmm-hmm.” Now that he knew how to get her off, he couldn’t get enough. He needed to see that holy-shit expression on her face and feel her quake.

He pressed soft kisses to her throat, then around to her collarbone. She turned to jelly in his hold. When he reached her mouth, she turned her lips against his.

The floor seemed to fall out from under him. Passion surged. He cradled her face and kissed her. Slow, lazy swirls of his tongue weren’t nearly enough. He flipped atop her, pinning her into the mattress where they’d made love all night.

He scuffed his beard over her skin, marking every visible inch. “So soft.” He gently dragged his teeth over her tongue. She hissed. “Feminine.” He bit her lower lip, drawing back on it then releasing.

Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes darkened. Continuing his torment, he nibbled a line between her breasts to the V of her ribs then back up. She tried to direct him to her taut nipple, but he resisted.

For all of ten seconds.

When he clamped his teeth lightly over the bud, her spine lifted off the bed. He slipped his hands under her and tugged her tighter to him. His mind blanked as he drank in the sweet scents oozing from her pores.

Closing his eyes, he made his way by instinct to the other breast. He worshipped it for endless minutes. Every sound she made was a new star born. By the time he opened his eyes to see her gaze on him, he ached for her.

Still, he moved lower. Tonguing the undercurves of her breasts. Circling her navel with tiny kisses.

“Hugh.” His name was a ragged sigh on her lips. He molded her flesh to meet his hands—sides, belly, hips. God, he needed more. He kissed her right hip then the left. When he reached the front of her thigh, she grabbed his hand and directed it between her legs.

“Uh-uh,” he chided, and continued exploring. A small brown freckle lived smack dab in the center of her right thigh. But her left inner thigh was more sensitive.

“Stop!” She giggled, trying to roll away as he hit a ticklish spot. He caught her knee before she struck his head. As he directed it up and back, she sobered.

He held her gaze as he licked the back of her knee. She was splayed to him, pussy glistening and pink and ready. His cock stood out from his body, pointing toward her center. Holding back was imperative, because once he reached her feet he intended to flip her over and kiss her back.

He opened his mouth wide and pressed the flat of his tongue down the curve of her calf to her ankle, all the while fanning his fingers over her inner thighs.

“Please, Hugh.”

“When it’s time I’ll take care of you, baby.” He scraped his teeth over her ankle. Licked her instep. Sucked her toes. When he’d given the same care to the other leg, she reached for him.

“Not yet.” As he’d promised himself, he flipped her over and began working from bottom to top. Licking, nipping, biting and kissing every inch of skin from succulent toes to fragrant nape. He lingered over her ass. When she pushed onto her knees, he delivered that intimate kiss on her pucker that made her squirm. Still, he wouldn’t let up.

He rubbed his beard over her lower back until her skin was pink. Then he followed her spine with his tongue. Sliding his hands under her, he cupped her breasts.

Damn, why hadn’t he thought to put on a condom before undergoing this intense taste-test? Stopping now was the torture.

With a supreme amount of will, he reached into the drawer for a condom. He rolled it on with practiced ease, but it still took too long for his taste.

Sibyll lay on her stomach, face turned to the side. As he poised his cock at her entrance from behind, he watched her face ripple with pleasure.

Possessiveness rocked him. He grabbed her around the waist and rolled. With him spooning her, he hooked an arm beneath her knee and sank deep into her pussy.

The sunlight on her lashes, the red marks he’d made standing out and her tight grip on his cock heightened his need. Driven to stake his claim, he fucked her slowly, sucking on her neck until she surely wore a cherry red stain on her golden skin.

He guided her against him, hitching her leg higher until he bottomed out on the perfect spot.

A low moan escaped her. He pressed his fingers into her mouth, and she sucked.

“Jeezus.” The first spurt jetted from him, stripping him of all thought. The strong pulls of her inner muscles on his cock went on forever.

When she gasped around his fingers, he eased her leg onto the bed. Though she tried to pull free of his grasp, he held her close, loath to let her go. It wasn’t until the sun rose high in the sky, announcing one of the last days they’d have together, that he realized he wanted her to rush to his side as she had for Riggs.

Light duty.
Hugh called it light duty and Riggs called it torture. Basically it meant hip gyration was out, as well as the heavier play like using whips or paddles. And though he technically didn’t have a woman to take care of right now, he wanted more than anything to be in bed with Sibyll and Hugh.

Being with both of them had done irreversible things to his heart. He’d had twenty-four hours in the hospital to think about their time together and how he felt about it. How had he managed to connect with Sibyll in such a short time?

He leaned against Shoot the Moon’s stall and stared at his favorite horse. The white star on its nose was dull gray. He needed a bath, but again, Riggs’s stiff muscles weren’t up to it today.

At the end of the barn the rescued horse was bedded down. It was given fresh hay every few hours because it was so ill it kept frothing at the mouth and soiling the hay. Still, it was improving, according to the vet.

Vitamins, antibiotics and a special food formulated to be easy on the digestive tract were administered on a schedule. Riggs had given the horse its latest meal a few hours ago.

“Hey, Archer.”

Riggs’s heart sped up at the use of his last name even as his brain registered it wasn’t coming from Hugh. He turned to see Jack standing in the doorway.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Jack moved toward Riggs and took his place close to Riggs—too close. They’d shared several woman, as well as sexual adventures. Jack liked to bottom for Riggs, and it was hot being in control, but he wasn’t Hugh.

Riggs sighed and waited for his friend to speak.

“How ya feeling?”

“Not bad. I’m on light duty though.”

Jack looked him over, gaze lingering. “I have Kayla warmed up. Whoooeee, is she warmed up.” He grinned and slapped the stall door, making Shoot the Moon whip his tail. “Anyway, Kayla is ready for more if you know what I mean.”

Riggs’s body didn’t even react to the implication of fucking Jack and Kayla. Normally his cock would extend even if it wasn’t Hugh. But not this time.

When he hesitated, Jack said, “I know you can’t really fuck. But maybe you can put on a show for her—let me suck you off before I fuck her. You can touch her any way you want. She’s more than willing.”

Riggs tipped his head in thought. Did he want that? A blow job might help him erase that night with Hugh and Sibyll from his mind.

Who was he kidding?

“What did you cure Kayla of?”

Jack’s eyes glittered. “Popped her cherry, man. She was more than ready, just hadn’t found a man she could trust.”

Riggs slapped him on the shoulder. “She’s not sore?”

“Nah. We’ve done a lot of oral and…” He lowered his voice. “I popped her ass cherry while I was at it.”

Just as he and Hugh had popped Sibyll’s. He shuddered.

“So I can count on you?” Jack asked.

Riggs rubbed a hand over his bruised ribs. “I’m not sure I’m up to it. Maybe you can get Quay.”

The way Jack looked him over said he wanted Riggs. “Too bad. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah.” Riggs’s tone was noncommittal, and Jack stared at him a heartbeat too long. Did he feel Riggs drawing into himself, curling around the hope in his heart? That conversation with Sibyll in the hospital had given Riggs whiplash. He’d spent every hour since then thinking of ways to tell Hugh he was in love with him—of ways to ask for more.

Like a commitment.

“Thanks for thinking of me,” Riggs said.

Jack started out the door. “Next time, Archer.”

Riggs bowed his head. He gazed at his boots for long minutes before Shoot the Moon nudged his hand. He gave the gelding a pat then left the barn.

Outside he passed two couples that looked more than cozy. They sat on a blanket on the grass between bungalows. From here Riggs spotted wine and a picnic basket, but the girls were lying back and their cowboys were hovering over them. Riggs watched them take turns touching each girl.