Cowboy Heat (12 page)

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Authors: Delilah Devlin

BOOK: Cowboy Heat
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His fingers made tracks through my hair; they tightened, pulling my hair to keep my face close to his groin. The pain in my scalp only served to heighten my excitement.

Opening wider, I slid him into my mouth, my jaws stretching to accommodate his massive girth. When he hit the back of my
throat, I pulled my head back, applying forceful suction and dragging my teeth along the shaft.

“Damn,” he said, hissing breath between his clenched teeth and spreading his knees farther apart. “Deeper,” he ordered. “Pretend I’m that famous singer you keep talking about. How would you do him?”

“Scoot down,” I said.

And he did, giving me better access to his balls. Now, as much as I love a thick, meaty cock in my mouth, the sensation of rolling a man’s balls between my lips makes me wet.

I slid my finger in my mouth and then under his sac, watching his balls move to separate sides. I leaned over and traced the same path with my tongue. The skin there was soft and slippery. The sparse, coarse hair tickled my face. Sucking one ball between my lips, I rolled the other around and around in my hand, delighting in his weight and texture. My tongue lapped at the ball in my mouth.

Moisture dripped down my leg. My pussy demanded attention, but my mouth wasn’t ready to give up its prize.

I swirled my tongue around the base of his cock, then up his shaft until I reached the velvety head. I sucked off more precome, and then slid him into my mouth. This time, I didn’t stop at the back of my throat. I swallowed, took him deep, deep enough that my teeth circled the base of his penis. Coarse pubic hair scraped my lips.

He held my head firmly, not allowing me to move. His hips came alive, thrusting up and deeper into my throat.

“You realize,” he said with a powerful thrust into my mouth, “that we’re in front of windows in all directions. Anyone could see you like this, naked, at my feet, doing what I tell you to do. In fact, there are probably ten guys watching right now as I fuck your mouth. Ten guys with their dicks in their hands
imagining your mouth on them…” He pulled back and thrust again. “Dying to fuck your mouth like I am, wanting to fuck your cunt like I will.”

My pussy contracted, spilling thick juice down my legs. I reached between my legs, fingering myself to his words, pressing against my clit.

He jerked his dick from my mouth. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He stood, and for a minute, I panicked. I thought he was leaving.

“Where are you going?”

Retrieving his pants from the chair, he removed a packet. Quickly rolling on a condom, he crooked his finger. “Come here. I want to show all those guys watching just what they’re missing.”

I went to him. He wrapped a large hand around the back of my neck and bent me over the sofa. Thick, heavy baroque material abraded my rigid nipples as I rubbed against it, not caring who saw.

“Spread your legs,” he said.

I did.

“Wider,” he whispered in my ear. “How do you expect all those other guys to see your pretty pink pussy with your legs so close together?”

I obeyed, then looked over my shoulder, awaiting his approval.

He traced a finger along my slit, coating it with my juices, then sucked his finger into his mouth. “You taste like honey,” he said. He did it again, licking my juices from his hand. “All those other men watching. They can only guess what you taste like. I know.”

My breaths came in ragged gasps. I’d never been more wet and ready to be fucked in my life. “Fuck me, dammit.”

Cody turned his back to the window, grabbed my hips and drove deep inside in one push.

I gasped as my walls stretched to accommodate his size. He withdrew and stabbed me again. It felt as though his cock touched the back of my throat. Everything inside me moved with each thrust. My heart pounded and raced.

“Turn your head to the right,” he said as he withdrew.

I did. The room’s mirrored wall shot our reflections back to us. He plunged into me, and I watched his massive cock spread my lips and disappear inside me. Oh god. I’d never watched myself being fucked before. My legs quivered. When he pulled back, my cream covered him. I moaned, arching my back and shoving my ass into his groin.

“Harder. Faster,” I said. The pressure inside was building and I was close to coming. “Faster, harder.”

He pumped into me, slamming me against the back of the sofa.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped out. “I’m—” My orgasm hit me like a tsunami. Multicolored flashes lit up my sight as ripple after ripple of pleasure raced through my body.

While I was trying to regain my senses, Cody slammed into me a couple more times before he ground his pelvis into my ass. His cock jerked inside as he came.

We both stayed in that position, trying to catch our breaths. In a minute, he withdrew, taking all his warmth with him.

“Excuse me,” he said and went to the half bath off the entry hall. I remained draped over the chair for a moment, concerned my legs would falter if I tried to walk. But I didn’t want him to come back and find me like that. I went to the master bedroom and tossed on the silk robe missing a tie. When I came back out, Cody was snapping his shirt, finishing dressing.

I leaned against the door jam. “Happy birthday to me,” I said. I’m sure I wore a wide smile.

He came over and kissed me. “Happy birthday.”

I realized this was the first time we’d kissed. He had a nice kiss. His soft, full lips cushioned the kiss, making it gentle and sweet.

“I have to go,” he said.

I nodded. He probably had another client tonight. I wasn’t jealous, per se, but I hoped he was too tired to do her and had to cancel. I know. Bad of me.

I walked him to the door, and he kissed me again. “That was a hell of a lot of fun. You are incredible,” he said. “I hope this will be a birthday you’ll remember.”

“Without a doubt,” I said, and smiled. “Thank you.”

He took my hand and kissed it. “Thank
you
.”

He left, and I leaned against the door. Damn. How in the hell would I top this for Leslie’s birthday next month? I stuck my hand in my robe pocket and felt cardboard. Pulling it out, I was shocked to find a front-row ticket for that night’s Cody Jarrod concert and a backstage pass.

Cody Jarrod whistled as he headed back to his room. Damn, that had been fun. Nobody would ever believe he’d been mistaken for a professional gigolo playing Cody Jarrod. He wondered what new role he could play tonight when he knocked on Faith Meyers’s door.

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

Cat Johnson

I
can’t believe you talked me into going to this thing.” Skye Morrison stared at the building glowing like Mecca across the parking lot.

“Oh, hush up. It’s going to be fun.” Libby locked the car door and turned toward the bar.

“But the Spittoon? Seriously, the committee couldn’t have booked the golf club? Or at least rented the legion hall?” Who held a reunion at a honky-tonk? Apparently, the Norman High School graduating class of 2003 did. Only in Oklahoma…

“God, remember that night we got our fake IDs and came here?” Libby sighed. “It feels so long ago.”

Skye followed her friend as they picked their way across the poorly lit, gravel lot. “Of course, I remember. And it
was
long ago.”

But not so long ago that Skye had forgotten that night or
him
. She and Libby had driven all the way out here so they wouldn’t run into anyone who’d know they were three years too
young to be drinking. The thrill of sneaking around and playing at being older had infected Skye, made her reckless. She’d ended the night pressed between the bed of a pickup and the hard body of the local cowboy who owned the truck, while Libby was inside with his best friend.

Rowdy Reynolds
. All these years later, Skye not only remembered her cowboy’s name; thinking it still made her tingle. He was her first real, grown-up kiss. Her first orgasm too. No, they hadn’t gone all the way, but damn, that man knew how to touch a woman. He’d shown her exactly what he could do with only half an hour and his hand. The pleasure had nearly taken Skye off her feet, and had ruined her for all men since. It seemed she’d yet to find that kind of desperate passion she’d felt with Rowdy all those years ago.

And now here she was, ten years older, hopefully a whole lot wiser, but back at the Spittoon where she’d have to smile at a bunch of people she hadn’t seen or thought about in years. She was tempted to turn tail and run. “I’m so not in the mood for this.”

Libby reached for the door handle “You’ve been working in the city too long. It’s made you antisocial. Relax. You’re not going to be trapped with anyone you don’t like. We’ve got the private back room where they’re setting up the food and cake, but we can still go up front to dance and enjoy the band with the regular crowd.”

That was something, anyway. Skye let out a huff of breath. “All right.”

Libby rolled her eyes and then opened the door. As the combined din of the music and the many patrons hit Skye, her first thought was that the bar was loud enough that she’d have a good excuse to not talk at all if she didn’t want to.

Maybe Libby was right and she was getting antisocial, but as
a guy carrying a pitcher splashed beer all over her, Skye figured she had a right to be.

Crap
. Hell of start to the night.

“I’ve got beer all over me.” She had to yell to Libby to be heard. “I’m going to the bar to get napkins.”

“Okay. I’m going to see who’s here.” Libby hooked a thumb toward the back as she shouted.

Skye nodded and wedged her way between the people. It wasn’t easy, and by the time she got to the bar, she’d already had enough of this place—but then she saw him, silhouetted by neon.

She stopped, her hand poised in midair as she reached for the stack of white napkins. It couldn’t be. Could it?

He turned, took one look at her face and his baby blues crinkled with his smile. “It’s you.”

Skye let out a breathless laugh as the tenor of Rowdy’s voice vibrated through her. “And it’s you too.”

“Good to see you again, darlin’.” He knocked back the hat hiding his dark hair and leaned in, laying his hand on her arm as he brushed a kiss against her cheek. Pulling back, he grinned and reached for a handful of napkins. “You’ve already been christened, I see.”

He daubed at her wet skin, wiping the beer away. A drop had landed on her chest. He brushed that away too as Skye realized that just a moment with this man had her getting wet elsewhere. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he felt the thundering of her heart through that napkin.

What the hell was it about this guy? She wasn’t an eighteen-year-old virgin pretending to be twenty-one anymore. She’d knocked off the dust of her small town and moved on to bigger and better things. Skye had a great job and her own apartment. She’d had boyfriends. She’d had sex.

Of course, not sex like it would be with him. Skye felt the truth of that to her core. Whether it was pheromones or memories of that brief moment they’d shared ten years ago, she didn’t know. All she could be sure of was that she had a visceral reaction to this man now.

Meanwhile, he probably didn’t even remember her name. His
darlin
’ was charming, but it could also hide the fact he didn’t know what else to call her. But when he deposited the used napkins on the bar and turned the full attention of his charm back to her, Skye realized she didn’t give a damn if he knew her name or not. He’d recognized her, and he remembered all they’d done—the look in his eyes told her that much. And that was enough for her.

From beneath her lashes, she gazed up at this man who towered over her, making her feel small, but in a good way. “Hey, you wanna get out of here?”

His brows rose at her suggestion, disappearing beneath the brim of his hat briefly before he dipped his head in a nod. “Sure. Where you wanna go?”

“You still got that truck of yours?”

The dimple in his chin caught her eye as he smiled. “Not the same one, but I do have a truck parked out back. This one’s got a king cab. Lots of room.”

The tip of his tongue shot out and swiped across his lips, causing Skye to focus on his mouth and thoughts of what it could do to her. “Sounds good. Let’s go.”

His eyes widened before he nodded. “All right.”

Rowdy pushed his beer bottle toward the bartender, then turned and took Skye’s hand in his. She’d forgotten he was a hand holder. He’d led her outside in exactly this manner those many years ago, but this time she wasn’t going to leave with unfinished business.

The feel of his thick, rough fingers wrapped around hers was only a preview of things to come. She anticipated what his hands would feel like running over her bare skin. The thought started a flutter low in her belly. What she wouldn’t give for a nice big bed right now. For the first time ever, Skye wished she still lived in her hometown, instead of outside of Oklahoma City where she worked.

Out in the cool night air, Skye ran a hand along the sleek sides of the vehicle. The truck matched the man—big, strong, nice to look at and they both could take a girl places.

He paused next to the passenger side door and gazed down. Raising one hand, he cupped her cheek and leaned low. He stopped just shy of her mouth. “It’s been a long time.”

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