Pushin' Buttons (Boot Knockers) (7 page)

When he didn’t reply, she poked her head out, holding the shower curtain self-consciously across her body even though he’d had his tongue buried in her last night.

He sucked in a deep breath, holding her gaze. “You’re using the hibiscus.”

Any coal of heat left inside her swirled down the drain. Hugh had been with enough women that he recognized the scents the women used. Again, it bothered Sibyll to be one in a long line.

Hugh had changed clothes after he’d left. He wore a pair of dark jeans, boots and a simple white T-shirt that clung to his muscles. She dropped her gaze from broad chest to yummy hips, to worn brown boots then slowly made her way back up to his face.

Today his black and blue eye was a little less bruised, but green tinged the outer corner. He looked delicious and menacing as hell. She almost popped her head back inside the shower.

With a lazy movement, he hitched his leg upward and tugged off one boot. When the other hit the floor, there was no more guessing his intention.

He was getting in with her.

She quivered and tried to roll up in the shower curtain. He’d seen her nude, sure, but she was standing. Her heavy breasts drooped and it was impossible to hide that little pooch of fat around her waist.

“Let me wash your back, baby.” His jeans hit the floor, star-shaped belt buckle clinking.

God, he wasn’t wearing…underwear.

She gulped as his glorious cock sprang free, rigid and proud. A trim path beelined from his navel to his pubic hair. More hair coated his strong thighs, dark and sparser.

All man. Damn, he was a beautiful specimen.

Sucking in hibiscus-scented air, she withdrew her head and fought rising emotions. Panic mingled with raw desire.

Hugh stepped into the shower behind her, his big body crowding her out of the spray. He hooked an arm around her middle and pulled her back against his body, letting her feel every muscular inch.

Particularly the inches nestled against the seam of her ass.

He nuzzled her throat, and without thinking she angled her head to provide better access. When she started to wiggle against him, he rumbled appreciation and sucked on her neck for a dizzying, knee-melting minute.

Running his hand over her ass, he said, “Oh yes. Your back needs washing.”

“I think…it’s higher.”

His smile spread over her skin, leaving one on her heart. He nipped the corner of her jaw. Probing the undercurve of her ass with a sureness borne of years of practice, Hugh said, “From my angle, it’s not higher, baby.”

Her knees buckled as he traced the curve to the moist spot between her legs.

Without warning, he pushed against her opening. Her pussy contracted, seeming to suck his thick finger right in.

Hugh fell still. “Holy…fuck, you’re wet, baby. Were you thinking of me?”

And the dark-haired cowboy.
Her breathing hitched, and her heart did a stutter-stop that confused the hell out of her. “It’s hard not to think of you after last night.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and she twisted into his kiss. He held her tight against his body, not allowing her to turn completely as he snaked his tongue over hers. Decadent heat filled her mouth where his tongue worked and her pussy where his finger thrust.

A soft sound emitted from her throat.

Hugh answered with a growl. Pulling his finger free, he whirled her to face him. His thick arousal slid over her hip and throbbed against her belly. Before Hugh could trap her mouth under his again, she gasped, “I want to touch you.”

His eyes grew hooded. A muscle in his jaw fluttered erratically. That movement seemed totally out of control, in sharp contrast to the way he held his body—and held her.

When he took her hand and placed it on his chest, she couldn’t stop her smile. She explored him, forgetting about that roll of pudginess around her middle and the stretch marks on her inner thighs.

She pattered her fingers over pecs, down to ridged abs, then around to his spine and the muscled planes there. He moved with her, putting himself in the perfect place to catch her hands.

Sibyll glanced down at the one thing she’d avoided looking directly at until now.

“Hell,” he ground out as she closed her fingers around the base of his erection. His stomach muscles dipped in reaction to her touch, and a heady sense of power took over.

She pumped it slowly, watching his face contort. Last night he’d given her two hours of love play, while stomping on his own needs. Then he’d slept with her tucked against him all night. Unless he’d taken care of his needs this morning after leaving her, he was still suffering.

Judging by the hard steel under her fingers, he hadn’t gotten off. She wanted to please him more than anything else.

She learned every inch of his cock, from glistening tip to his tight balls. Hugh curled his hands into fists.

Very slowly, she let her knees buckle, dropping to the shower floor. Water struck her in the middle of the back.

“God, baby. You don’t have to—”

She looked up at him, her pussy slick with want just from being near him. “I know. I want this.” In one swift move, she swallowed him.

An internal litany of curses rocketed through Hugh’s mind on the heels of the most searing pleasure he’d ever known.

She’d done it. Gone down on him.

Now his cock was trapped in her scorching-hot mouth and she stared at him with big, innocent eyes.

Apparently she had gotten over all awkwardness.

He slipped his fingers into her mass of wet hair and held her. Damn, this wasn’t how it worked. He was supposed to give her pleasure. She was so ripe and wet, yet he felt how tense and needy she was.

She hollowed her cheeks, increasing the pull on his dick. He issued a stuttering breath and fought the urge to fuck her mouth. Ever since that first kiss, he’d ached for release. And if he were honest, he longed for more of a connection with her. Somehow the little scientist had gotten into his blood.

Taking my pleasure before hers is against all the rules in the handbook. Every. Last. One.

She swirled her tongue up his shaft, riding a vein to the secret spot only two people in his life had ever known would send him shooting like a rocket. Riggs and Travis. But thinking of them was no good.

Riggs wanted to get too close, and Hugh couldn’t get emotionally involved.

Travis was too far away and was never coming back.

But Sibyll…she was right here, loving him with that pouty mouth and her light blue eyes. Her breasts jiggled as she bobbed on his length. She gripped his base, adjusted her position, and took him into the back of her throat.

For a minute Hugh couldn’t breathe or think. Only feel.

“Damn, baby. Damn damn damn. I’m gonna…”

She peered up at him, a slight smile curving her lips around his cock. He caught a glimpse of her white teeth and nearly blew.

Pulling back on him, she tantalized his shaft with her tongue again, probing that spot. The one right-the-fuck
there.

Pleasure burst inside him. He threw his head back and roared as release raced through his system. The first jet of come shot out before he could regain control.

When he jerked his hips back to keep from filling her mouth, she followed him. Jeezus, she
followed
him.

Through a detached haze of bliss, he watched her throat work as she swallowed his essence. He stood helpless, hands bunched in her hair, letting her draw his orgasm out endlessly.

As the last drop hit her tongue, she moaned.

Hugh’s muscles trembled from the exertion of standing upright. How had it happened? She’d stripped him of all control. Everything he’d learned had been stolen in one perfect, mind-bending blowjob.

“Riggs.”

He spun at the sound of his name in Hugh’s baritone. The man strode through the barn and flicked his head for Riggs to follow him into the tack room. Heart thumping, Riggs set aside the pitchfork he used to spread fresh hay in the horse stalls.

As he entered the tack room, he pulled off his work gloves.

“Close the door.”

Riggs inspected his friend’s face, nudging the door shut without looking. “What’s going on?”

Hugh slashed a hand through the dusty air, agitation streaming from him. For a second his hand waved, uncontrolled, then he planted it on his crown and yanked off his hat.

Riggs’s stomach knotted at the sight of Hugh’s hair plastered to his skull. It curled slightly above his ears, smooshed by his hat. “This must be bad, man. What the hell happened?”

All at once the fire seemed to leave Hugh. He sagged against a table, which held a saddle that Stowe was repairing. The native Australian was a genius with leather, and from what Riggs had heard, was a master in the bedroom. The Boot Knockers called him the Dom from Down Under.

Hugh stared at the floor. Riggs’s heart lurched at Hugh’s despondent pose, and he stepped closer to him.

“What the hell happened, man?” he asked again.

When Hugh met his gaze, all that energy from his form gathered in his hazel eyes. “It’s Sibyll.”

Worry thickened Riggs’s throat. Was she hurt? Had she left? In four years of business they’d never had a single unsatisfied woman.

Riggs nodded, urging him on.

“She…” Hugh’s jaw hung open but nothing came out.

“Hell, Donovan, just spill it.”

“She went down on me in the shower.”

Riggs waited, battling the reeling emotions that made his back stiffen like a guard dog’s. Trouble was, he didn’t know if he wanted to stand in front of Sibyll and keep her from Hugh’s clutches or the other way around.

“And this is a bad thing?” His mind worked out different scenarios, and he winced. What if she’d used her teeth on Hugh? The mere thought made Riggs’s balls hibernate.

Hugh shook his head, eyes trancelike now. “She was fucking great. Amazing. I came like a bull. But she still hasn’t orgasmed.”

Riggs blinked at him for a heartbeat. He shifted his weight to one leg and hooked his thumb in his back pocket. “Wait. She made you come, but you didn’t get her off?”

Hugh nodded, gaze centered on the floor again. “That’s the gist of it.”

“Or the jism of it.” Hugh’s expression grew more tortured. “Okay, bad joke. How did this happen?” Meaning, how had the leader of the Boot Knockers let himself go so thoroughly that he took his pleasure before giving it?

When Hugh gazed at Riggs, he was bald, exposed. Riggs’s heart caught. He’d only ever seen that look once before—the last time they’d been alone together. When Hugh had called him “Archer” with so much tenderness that Riggs still played the moment in his head on repeat.

“Christ, man. What are you going to do? Are you going to tell the others about it?”

“No. Hell no! If the guys find out, they’ll never let me live it down.” Hugh spread his hands. “I can’t lose this chance to make things right with Sibyll.”

The cogs in Riggs’s mind turned as he considered the situation from every angle. Yeah, Hugh was in charge. But everyone had voted him into his position. They owned equal shares of the ranch. That meant they all could govern. And Hugh was right—if the Boot Knockers discovered what had happened, they’d nudge Hugh out of Sibyll’s bed for bad conduct.

And there was only one guy available to take his place—Riggs.
Maybe that’s not a bad thing.

“So she really can’t come?” Riggs asked.

“I won’t concede defeat. It’s been less than twenty-four hours.”

“But you tried?”

Hugh’s face and throat mottled red. “Of course I fucking tried!”

“You did that tongue thing? Where you lick bottom to top?”

“Yes.”

“And the G-spot?”

“Fuck, yeah. Not because it was on a list of things that will bring women to orgasm, but because…I fucking wanted to.”

Riggs nodded, his stomach hollow. “Thought so.”

At his quiet tone, Hugh’s gaze snapped to his. “Damn, don’t look at me that way.”

He sensed Hugh’s mental spin-and-flee, and couldn’t let that happen. Riggs stepped closer until Hugh’s body heat washed over him. They stood eye to eye. If Riggs leaned forward, he could kiss him.

And damn, when they kissed, it was like a wildfire on a dry prairie. Raging out of control until one of them—usually Hugh—took what he wanted. If Riggs could only push him that direction now.

“Goddammit, Riggs, I need to pound into something.”

“
Someone
?” Riggs coaxed, letting Hugh see his desire.

“What the hell am I gonna do with you two?” Hugh hooked an arm around Riggs’s back and hauled him flush against his body—the rock-hard, agitated body Riggs hoped to ease.

He slammed his mouth over Hugh’s, drinking in his scents—outdoors, musk and a floral note that must belong to the woman he’d just lost it over. It seemed fitting to meld the notes of all three of them into one.

Hugh gripped his shirt and began popping the pearl buttons. When the shirt hung open, he tore from the kiss and ducked his head to bite Riggs’s nipple.