Rough Rider (7 page)

She slid her hands a bit lower, her fingers probing deeper into his shoulder muscles. Her hands were strong, and confident, delivering a medicinal mix of pleasure and pain. He'd never had anyone touch him like this—not even Rachel. And his body responded to it.

“You'd better stop that now, Red.” Standing up would only make his condition more evident so he scooted forward, away from her reach.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked.

“No,” he replied tightly. “I just don't want it to end up the other way around.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told you, a man and woman can't be friends. Sooner or later he'll want to get into her jeans. Maybe you didn't mean to, but you got me achin' to do just that.”

“Aching?” she repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, Red…as in blue balls.” He shifted in growing discomfort knowing he'd get no relief tonight. “Maybe you should climb up into that gooseneck now.”

“Is that what you
want
me to do?”

“What I want?” He gave a deprecating laugh. “You shouldn't ask questions like that, sweetheart. You'll never get the truth out of a man with a hard-on.” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I can hardly deny what's staring you right in the face.”

Her gaze dropped. Her brown eyes widened.

He covered his face and blew out a long breath. Maybe it was the injury that had his head all screwed up, or the alcohol he shouldn't have drunk. Or more likely, it was pent-up frustration from long-term abstinence. Whatever it was, his resistance was crumbling to dust with vanilla-scented Janice staring at his dick.

“Shit, Janice. You're not making this easy on me. I'm trying my damnedest to act like a gentleman.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her gaze flickering back to his face. “What did I do?”

“Hell, you don't have to
do
anything when you're looking at me that way.”

“What way?” she asked, her soft brown eyes searching his.

Her whole demeanor was a provocative mix of earthy innocence. Her hands were strong and gentle. Her eyes, honest, and guileless. Everything about Janice felt so warm and inviting, in stark contrast to Rachel who ran hot and cold with nothing in between. For almost five years Rachel had strung him along, teasing with promises and vacillations. Now here was Janice—warm, welcoming, and smelling good enough to eat. His gaze dropped to her mouth, to lips that softly parted. Her unspoken invitation was the straw that broke the cowboy's back.

* * *

Janice knew what she was doing—at least she told herself she did. She'd never dreamed of anyone but Dirk. It seemed like she'd waited half her life hoping he'd notice her—and now here he was—and he'd definitely noticed. Maybe she was taking unfair advantage of the situation. He was on the rebound. Though he'd never admit it, he was hurting bad and not just on the outside. She knew he and Rachel would eventually patch things up. Her eyes were open on that score, but right here, right now, none of that mattered. This was Dirk.

Her breath came in rapid puffs. She shut her eyes in anticipation, waiting and willing him to commit himself.

His fingers cupped her chin, firm and gentle at the same time. Her body tensed and stomach tightened as inch by devastating inch he lowered his head toward hers until his mouth hovered only a hair's breadth from hers.

Her heartbeat accelerated, her lips parted.

His warm breath caressed her face, teasing her with its scent while the yearned for kiss hung between them—a sweet promise suspended in time.

Please.
She sent a silent supplication to the heavens.

A heartbeat later, her prayer was answered as his lips brushed over hers—soft, warm, sweet. The stuff of her girlhood fantasies. She wanted to melt into him, to throw her whole being into her response, but he stiffened and drew back, as if ready to abort what they'd started.

Her breathing stilled. Her eyes opened. Her heart squeezed with the fear of rejection, but rejection wasn't what she saw reflected back at her in pools of crystal blue. His gaze was searching hers as if silently seeking confirmation that
she
wanted what
he
wanted.

Now
or
never, Janice. Time to cowgirl up.

She took a breath, and then the dive. Stepping into him, she snaked her arms around his neck, until they stood chest to chest, thigh to thigh, separated by only thin layers of cotton. His erection surged between them, pressing hot and hard against her lower belly. Threading her trembling fingers through the hair at his nape, she pulled his head back down to hers for another kiss.

Like the flip of a switch, everything shifted. Transformed.

His hands tightened on her face as he claimed her mouth again, but this kiss wasn't soft and tender. It was hungry. Fierce. His mouth melded with hers with an urgency that made her chest tighten. He licked across the seam of her mouth and she parted her lips on a soft moan, welcoming his exploration, and the slick, swirling strokes of his tongue.

His hands dropped to her shoulders and his mouth to her neck. Sucking, licking, gently biting. Her mind emptied of everything but Dirk. It was him. Only him. His mouth. His hands. His soft words murmured against her skin. The deliciously abrasive bristle of his whisker stubble. His fingers pushing her camisole strap aside. His mouth replacing it, moving over her shoulder in a hot wet trail across her collar bone.

The sensations of his mouth, his hands, and hot tongue robbed her of breath. Her nipples were swollen, almost painfully erect. Her breasts ached for his touch. She clutched his hair with a soft sound—a plea for relief that he didn't ignore.
Yes. Sweet Jesus.
Yes
.

His mouth came down, kissing, gently biting, and then suckling her breasts. He teased, strummed, and plucked her nipples, inducing a sudden surge of wetness between her thighs and transferring the ache to a different place.

She slid her hands down his neck, over his broad shoulders, to the wide, smooth plane of his back. He brought his hands lower too. Her body rippled under his fingers tracing gently down her spine until they rested on the small of her back. His callused thumbs located the hollowed dimples. Circling, stroking. Every touch, kiss, breath, and heartbeat wrested a response, ramping her need to a fever pitch. She'd never felt like this before, on fire and burning up with want. She whimpered and ground herself against him. The friction of his erection created a blinding rush of pleasure. He ran a hand up her thigh, reaching inside the leg of her shorts to stroke his fingers through her damp curls. He kissed her again. Slow and deep. He also probed further. Deeper.

She clutched him tighter, her body quivering.

“You nervous, Red?”

“Well, yeah,” she confessed.

“It's all right,” he soothed. “I won't be rough and I'll take care of you first.”

Before she realized what he meant by that, he'd dropped to his knees. Caressing the length of her legs, his mouth trailed up the wake of gooseflesh created by his hands. He nuzzled her through her shorts. She gasped at the mind-reeling jolt of pleasure.

His gaze shot up to hers. “You like that?”

“I—I—I don't know,” she answered back. “I think so.”

“What're you saying, Red? No one's ever gone down on you before?”

A flood of heat invaded her face. Her gaze dropped from his. “Ah…well…ah…no.”

He grinned. “Hell, sweetheart, I consider it an honor to be the first.”

Her body tensed with apprehension. She squeezed her thighs tightly together. “Y-you really don't have to do
that
.”

“Yeah, I do.” He laughed. “Maybe you aren't certain about it, but I promise you I am. You just gotta trust me on this one, Red. I swear you'll like it…a lot.”

Before she could protest again, he smoothed his hands up to her hips. Anchoring them there, he buried his face fully into her, licking and nibbling through her shorts. She bucked against him but he held her firm and strong against his mouth until she swayed drunkenly on her feet.

He gazed back up at her with a smug grin. “That was just a sample, darlin'. Wanna let me peel those shorts off now?”

* * *

She was hot and wet and willing, but too tense and too tight.
Not
ready.
But oral was one thing Dirk prided himself on—and it was no chore to do it.

He didn't wait for her answer but braced her hands on his shoulders and then dragged her shorts down over her hips and those sleek mile-long legs. Her musky perfume surrounded him, filled him. He pulled a deep breath inward, wishing to inhale her into his lungs.
Holy
shit!
The essence of an aroused woman always made his cock swell and his balls ache. He wished he could bottle it.

The second she stepped out of the shorts, he dove in, sweeping through her slickened folds with long hungry swipes of his tongue. Hands on her hips, he feasted on her, stoking, probing, licking, swirling, drinking her juices, and fucking her with his tongue until he was nearly out of his mind with lust.

She whimpered and writhed, clawing his scalp and pulling his hair. Hell, she was almost there. He applied his mouth to her clit, circling and sucking the swollen nub until her knees buckled and her body convulsed in a climax against his mouth. Holding her upright, Dirk nuzzled and kissed her belly until she came back to earth.

“Good for you, Red?” he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

“What did you do? I never—” She gazed back at him, looking flushed. Bewildered. Beautiful.

He'd never thought of Janice that way before, but shit yeah. She was hot as hell right now. He rose and kissed her again. Slow. Deep. Using his tongue to restoke the fire. She melted into him all soft, warm, wet woman. His need for relief was approaching desperation. She was as ready as she was gonna get and he was miles past ready.

He scanned the cramped quarters. His gaze shot up to the mattress in the gooseneck. Even if he could make the climb there'd be no room at all to maneuver up there. He sure as hell didn't need to smack his head again tonight.

Shit.

There wasn't even a chair, just a tiny table with a built in bench seat. She said it flipped down into a cot but it was way too narrow. He regarded the table skeptically. He doubted it would hold any weight. He didn't want to shove her up against the door. He'd waited too friggin' long to do it quick and dirty like that. Not the first time anyway. It just seemed fundamentally…wrong. He wanted to savor the experience of feeling himself finally wrapped in a hot wet pussy—as long as he was gonna be able to savor it anyway. As excited as he was, he doubted he'd last very long once he was snugly gloved inside her hot, sweet flesh.

His frustration rising, he clawed a hand through his hair. It wasn't what he'd really wanted but he guessed her mouth would have to do—not that he didn't love a blow job. Hell, what man didn't?

“Any chance you wanna return the favor?”

She glanced down at his crotch where his prick strained rigid as rebar against his shorts. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “You mean…”

His breathing suspended. Was she unwilling?
Shit!
He hadn't even considered
that
possibility. “I won't come in your mouth, Janice. I swear it.” He was almost pleading but if she agreed to blow him, he'd hold back his release if it fucking killed him.

“It's not that. It's just…I don't…I haven't ever…” She shook her head with an embarrassed look.

“You've never done that
either
?”

“No, Dirk. I haven't had much experience. With all the work, I've never had time for dating.”

He held back a chuckle. “Giving a guy a BJ is hardly dating, Red.”

“Don't tease me,” she snapped. “I already feel inadequate enough.”

Inadequate? He could hardly wrap his mind around that one. He stroked his thumb over her lips. “I assure you, sweetheart, you are
more
than adequate.”

Her gaze softened. “I don't know what to do…what you like.”

“If you just wrap those pretty lips around me I promise I'll like it just fine.”

She still looked tentative. Unsure. “Will you tell me if I do it wrong?”

He was throbbing for release and all this talking about it only made his balls ache worse, but he knew he had to be patient. “You can wipe that thought out of your mind, sweetheart. There's no right or wrong—only what feels good.”

“Then you'll tell me what feels good?” she asked.

“Yeah, Red. If that's what you want. You can start like this.”

He brought her hand down between them, wrapping her fingers around him. His cock twitched in her hand. Her gaze widened. He closed his hand firmly over hers and moved it up and down. She followed his lead, stroking him awkwardly at first, until she found a rhythm.

“That's it. Just keep it right along these lines,” he coaxed her low and husky.

Ignoring the sting of his split lip, he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing, nipping at her lips, then sucking her tongue into his mouth. She reciprocated eagerly, throwing herself hungrily into the kiss, as she continued to pump him. Their moans mingled. His need grew more urgent.

As if reading his mind, she broke from his mouth to work her way down his body. Touching, licking, kissing his neck and torso, tonguing and then sucking his nipples, she incited surges of sensation deep in his groin. He backed up to the table, giving her more room.

She hit her knees, her breath fanning hot and moist against his belly. She gazed up at him shyly, wetting her lips. His pulse accelerated. His body tensed…his cock throbbed for release.

She drew his boxers down.

He exhaled the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.