Body Language: The Boot Knockers, Book 2 (5 page)

Sliding upward, she sucked in a breath. When she came down again, filling herself to the hilt, they both expelled harsh breaths. His body rolled under her, muscles on display, his rugged good looks everything she’d dreamed of when coming here.

“I’m…so close.”

“Yesss, doll. You’re so fucking
hot
.”

Need crested in her as she stared into his eyes. The storm clouds broke open, and she cried out at the same moment he did. Riding his stiff cock, she pulsated madly around him. Waves battered her from every side. She delved into his passion-filled gaze, knowing she was lost.

This was how it was meant to be between a man and woman. But in a week, she’d no longer have her cowboy.

Chapter Four

Ruthie stared at the ceiling fan, letting the blades blur in her vision. The cooler air didn’t begin to dispel the heat she was feeling. Damian was an amazing lover. She’d been at the ranch for less than four hours and he’d managed to break down her walls and give her mind-blowing pleasure.

He’d propped himself on one elbow and was staring at her.

“Ruthie?”

Her cheeks burned, and his chuckle made the bed shake. He poked his finger into her bellybutton, and she collapsed in giggles, her shyness gone.

Turning her head, she met his gaze. Gray eyes peeled back her inhibitions. With him, she forgot about her past experiences with men. She wanted to make him talk, to learn more about him.

Smiling, he trailed his index finger from her navel up between her breasts. Her nipples puckered in anticipation.

“That was fast,” she breathed.

He arched a red-gold brow. “What’s that?”

“My cure.”

A grin cut a path across his rugged features. “I hope that’s true.”

“Does it happen so fast for all the ladies you’ve been with?” For some reason it didn’t bother her that others had blazed a path before her. She was curious to learn about each and every one, just to hear about him.

He had the grace to look embarrassed. He glanced away, but a second later swung his gaze back. Her skin rippled with the chemistry between them.

“I don’t know a lot about your problem, doll.”

“Maybe I was easily cured.”

“Or maybe you were just ready.”

No, she didn’t totally buy that. If she’d gone with that other Boot Knocker who’d fought for her, would she be lying here, totally sated and comfortable right now? Something about Damian put her at ease.

She looked up at the ceiling fan again. Excitement built in her chest. There was a whole ranch waiting for her to explore. She’d never been this far west, and she wanted to see the country. Was the sky really bigger over Texas? Once she’d set eyes on Damian, she hadn’t noticed the sky.

She ran her tongue over her lower lip, and he grunted. “Hold that look.” He rolled off the bed and strutted in the buff to the other side of the room. It was impossible not to stare at his carved backside.

“What do you do to get those muscles?” she blurted.

He snorted a laugh and held his camera up, tweaking some settings. He threw a look at the window. “Perfect lighting. Don’t move, doll.”

Suddenly she realized what he was about to do. She jackknifed into a sitting position, covering as much bare flesh as possible with her arms. As an afterthought she grabbed for the sheet.

Damian circled the bed and pinched the 800-thread count. “Let me shoot you lying as you were. That bead of light on your lips and the crests of your breasts…” His voice grew hoarse, and she snapped her gaze to his.

He stared at her until her heart tripped and she felt drugged. Before she knew it, she was nodding.

Pressing her down, he arranged her as she’d been lying before. Then he pulled the sheet off, exposing her to the cool air. Her folds grew slick with arousal. What would her parents think of her lying in bed with a stranger and allowing him to photograph her in the nude?

“Look at me, doll.”

He had the camera up, but wasn’t looking through the lens. Instead he held her gaze.
God, he’s gorgeous.
The smattering of red hair on his chest and forearms was the epitome of manliness. Hell, the dusting of freckles on his pecs was masculine.

“Okay, now think about what you were thinking before. When you were staring at the ceiling.”

Her mind blanked, and all she could conjure was him stretching atop her, taking control of her every heartbeat until she rocketed toward orgasm. She pressed her thighs together, and moisture wet them.

Damian groaned. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

She couldn’t. Suddenly she was Mark Johansson’s daughter. She was the woman with a lot of failed relationships and who’d never experienced anything but bad sex.

“You’re getting stiff on me. I’m the one who’s supposed to be stiff.”

She wanted to look, but he leaned over the bed, hiding his body from her. Was he hard against the rumpled sheets?

Confusion clouded her mind. All of a sudden she didn’t know how she’d gotten the gumption to book this trip. And she’d ridden Damian with utter abandon.

While the guilt burrowed deep in her conscience resurfaced, she averted her gaze.

Damian waited while she fought to take back her feelings of empowerment. There wasn’t anything wrong with sleeping with a sexy man who’d shown her more consideration than every lover in her past put together. The things she wanted for herself were not the same as what her parents desired for her.

Damian set down the camera. “What’s going on in that mind, doll?”

Unable to share it, she shook her head.

“Guess our photo session is over then.” He didn’t sound a bit disappointed.

“What now?” Her voice wobbled.

He pushed off the bed, revealing ridges of muscles and a rock-hard erection jutting right at her. He reached for her, drawing her attention to the ring of muscle riding below his waist. What did they call that? The love cradle? They should.

Totally dry in the Texas heat, she wet her lips. He grabbed the camera and snapped five photos before she could even gasp. Then he tossed it to the bed and reached for her. “Get up, doll. I want you in the shower.”

He dragged her out of bed. The sheet fell away and he plastered his body to hers, pressing his cock against her lower back as he walked them to the bathroom.

Wait—how had she gotten here? Sure, he was gorgeous and a considerate lover. He was also a stranger. Most people wouldn’t approve of a woman sleeping with someone she didn’t really know much about, even if they weren’t religious.

She thought of the emotions he’d raised in her during their romp in bed. She hadn’t felt like a stranger. In fact, a connection buzzed between them, stronger than those she’d felt with other lovers. Who was to say what was right or wrong?

Damian turned her into his arms and kissed her, stripping away every hint of worry and remorse.

The first stroke of his tongue ignited her. He lashed her to him, bending her back slightly to accept his kiss. Pleasure shot through her body, and she rubbed against him. He tore from the kiss, panting, eyes smoldering.

“I’m going to soap every inch of this body. Then I’m going to get on my knees and lick this sweet pussy again.” He slid his hand between her legs, and she shuddered. “After you’ve screamed out that orgasm, I’m going to pin you against the shower wall and lift you onto your toes with…every…thrust.”

She whimpered. His eyes darkened and he grew solemn. Before she could register the shift in his expression, he whipped her upright, spun her toward the bathroom and slapped her ass.

She cried out, too aware of how damn hot it was to feel his rough hand against her flesh. Tingles spread through her belly and pussy.

The huge bathroom was generously fitted with a high-end jet tub and double sinks. The soothing colors reminded her of the sea—and of Damian’s eyes. He circled a privacy wall, and she panicked. Was he about to pee with her standing feet away? Sure, they’d had sex, but that was ultra-intimate.

She waited, breath held. A second later the sound of rushing water filled the space. It took her a second to realize he wasn’t relieving himself—he’d turned on a shower.

“Ruthie? I’m waiting.”

She peeked around the pale blue glass tile to find a huge open shower. Several water jets were set into the walls at different positions that would be “just right”. Damian was already soaked, water from the rain showerhead streaming over his hair, making it almost black.

“C’mere.”

The urge to cover herself and hide spiked in her. Her daddy would have a coronary if he saw her now. And Mom…well, she’d end up on heavy tranquilizers until she got the mental help she needed.

Ruthie stared at the gorgeous cowboy through the steam. What was she doing? She’d come here to escape her upbringing, not embrace it.

She stepped into the shower. Damian gripped her hands and drew her under the spray. Then he ran his fingers through her hair as it became drenched. Ruthie let the steam and hot water envelop her, followed by Damian’s arms. He held her lightly, staring down at her.

“My makeup is probably running. Siri’s work will be ruined.”

Damian’s face was intense. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still a sex kitty to me.”

She made a quiet noise, battling her urge to throw herself at this man and never let go. What was it about him that had already touched her too deeply? He probably did this to all the guests.

He spread his hands over her back, tracing wide circles. “Relax and let me touch you.”

She closed her eyes. When he slid his hands down to cup her ass and his lips met her throat, she opened them. He swayed lightly, lulling her into his touch. He lapped a path up her throat to her ear. Angling her head, she gave him better access.

She also wanted to touch him. She set her hands on his chest and learned every cut and swell. Then she moved to his back.

Muscles rippled under her hands, and she imagined him swinging into a saddle, the sunlight glaring off the perspiration coating his skin. Her breaths came faster. She reached that ring of muscle that rode his lower abdomen and followed it around to his front.

Damian’s eyes hooded. He released her and reached for something. He squeezed some body wash into his palm and rubbed it with only two fingers.

“You’re going to wash me with two fingers?”

He held up the fingers. Bubbles clung to his skin. “Only takes two, doll.”

Then he began. He started at her collar bones, spreading the rain-scented soap to each shoulder. Using only two fingers, he massaged any tension from her right shoulder then her left. She sagged a little.

But when he circled her nipple with just two fingers, she straightened to attention. He teased the bud until it strained. As he moved to the other nipple, she wiggled into his touch.

“Mmm. You’re so damn reactive. Who are these idiot men who couldn’t satisfy you, doll?”

“A handful.”

“Name them for me. I want to hear their names so I can pull them from your mind and you never think of them again.”

“Uhh. Jeff.” He pinched her nipple between his two fingers, and she gasped. No one had ever made her feel this way. While her body screamed for more, her mind tripped over whether or not to tell him to stop. She didn’t want him to stop, but she was supposed to. She was at war with herself.

He squeezed more gently this time, but she ached for that hard pinch. Swaying into his touch, she continued naming the guys who hadn’t bothered taking her to this place.

“J-Jered. A guy in college named Tom.” He rolled her other nipple, and she cried out.

“That all?”

“Andrew,” she sighed.

Damian ran two fingers down her back and probed the seam of her buttocks. New sensations tore through her. Was he going to touch her—there? As he burrowed his fingers deeper, she realized yes, he was.

She twisted to stop him, and his fingers retreated.

He nudged her thighs apart with his knee. “Is the way I’m touching you okay, doll? I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

But she’d come here to experience this wild abandon. Her strict upbringing, including any self-imposed guilt, had no place in this shower—or on this ranch.

She made a quiet noise of assent that sounded more like a plea.

“I’m going to take a hundred pictures of this sexy ass. I’m going to lay you on your stomach with a pillow under you to angle it upward so the light catches your skin just right.” Clinging to him, she gasped for air.

“Then I’m going to get you on your knees and capture the heart shape of it.” He traced the outline of her buttocks, which she’d always thought of as big. But that outline felt perfectly right under his hand.

The secret spot he’d touched so briefly ached for more. How to ask? How? She rocked backward.

Damian groaned. “Like that, don’t you?” He soaped her crack from top to bottom, pausing over her anus. She pushed back, and his chest rumbled. “What if I kiss this? Lick it then take a picture of it wet and ready for me?”

Oh my God.
Her knees buckled, and he jammed a knee between her thighs. She rubbed her pussy against his hard muscle as he circled her pucker.

“How about this? Can I touch you here?”

Please.
But the word was too hard to force past her lips. She couldn’t really ask him to do that, could she?

Her legs started to quake, and some deep inner chasm was opening. If she didn’t say it, he wouldn’t do it.

“Y-yes. Please.”

He moaned. Around and around her rosette he circled, pausing, pressing, leaving her gasping.

“Fuck, I need to do it now.” He spun her to face the wall. She supported herself on all-too-weak arms, cheek pressed to the wet tile as he dropped to his knees. When he parted her cheeks and the warm tip of his tongue stroked her
there
, she cried out.

Panic was a wild bird in her chest, but what he was doing felt too good to back away. Besides, lovers did this somewhere besides the Boot Knockers Ranch, right?

He smacked something on the wall, and a jet of water rushed over her clit. She writhed, trapped between the water and his tongue. With every soft lap against her skin, she let go a little more. Stretching onto tiptoe, she pushed back. Warm water trickled over her front, taking her higher.

Breath coming in short, rough spurts, she focused on the point of his tongue. He ran it around…around…

He impaled her with his tongue, reaching where no one had before. As he stroked her most intimate parts, small cries burst from her. More uncontrolled. She was losing it. He withdrew his tongue and covered her clit with his finger. The slight pressure shot her over the edge.

She came apart, struck by the intensity of her release. Her hands slid down and he pinned them under his, holding her prisoner with his big palms and tongue. He licked her madly, guiding her through her very first anal orgasm.

When she grew too sensitive, she jerked in his hold. He released her hand to smack the wall again, and the jet of water shut off. Feeling boneless, she started to slide down the wall.