Dynomite: A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance (13 page)

That was stupid. It was far from the most heinous crime, not even in the time I’d been there. When I was a freshman, the senior class put the entire Marion Lanza premises up for sale on Craigslist—and included us newbies in the deal. Another time, kids let twelve goats from the Ag Department onto the football field, not knowing they carried
E. coli
. Officials shut down the field for five months.

So nobody really gave a shit about a missing bull, but it was good for weeks of rumors. Dyno even mentioned it one night when I had to go to the fridge for more cold mineral water to mix with my gin. Yeah, I was still doing that, but only at night, after someone said “it’s five o’clock somewhere.” I planned on stopping it when the one year anniversary of mom’s death arrived.

Anyway, Dyno was in there munching on something like a giant hog. He was shirtless as usual, just leaning back against the island wearing only his stupid sweat pants where everyone within a mile radius could see his ginormous dick. I mean the outline of the head, the thick shaft, everything, just like I’d seen it that night in the shower.

“Where you think the thieves put the bull statue?” he said between smacks of his lips.

I had my back to him, staring into the fridge like it was a spaceship. I shrugged. “Don’t care. Probably our rivals over at over at Buddy Hackett High.”

“Yeah. Everyone kept waiting for them to pull a prank on us, and they never did. This must be their final coup de grace.”

I made a lip fart into the bowels of the fridge. I knew I looked cute and pert in my baby doll negligee—I had made sure Marcus’ Corvette was gone from the driveway when I ventured into the kitchen. A little pouf of red chiffon tied between my tits like a built-in push-up bra. When I leaned forward to look for bottled water, I knew it rode up in back, revealing matching red boy shorts. I knew all this stuff because I’d been a cheerleader. And if Dyno didn’t like me on a personal level, well, shit. I was going to make him crave me on a sexual level. I would
not
be brushed off, especially not by a hick from the sticks like him.

“I doubt it. If they would’ve done it, they would be taunting us by now.” I finally selected a cold bottle that had been staring me in the face for five minutes. I had no choice but to close the door and turn around.

“How do you know? Maybe they’re waiting for the suspense to build before they say anything.”

Dyno sounded like he knew something about it. I narrowed my eyes at him. “Tell me what you know, Dyno.”

He
did
look sort of handsome when he put his plate down on the island, wiping his greasy fingers on a paper towel, and grinning slyly. I could see what Olivia used to see in him. And I didn’t agree with her that he had gay tendencies. He was hetero, a manly rodeo star through and through.

He licked his lips slowly while giving me the once-over. “What do I get in return for this intel?”

I cried, “
Oh!
”

I tried to flounce on past him with the utmost dignity. He shot one lightning-fast arm out—an arm used to lassoing calves and bulls—and grabbed me by the bicep. I scanned his eyes to see if he was stoned or drunk or whatever it was he did these days. I was so used to cringing from Marcus that I automatically cringed from Dyno too. But of course there was a world of difference. My hormones responded to Dyno. He was warm, not threatening. He was pompous but not scary. His lashing out physically at me seemed more a sign of emotional desperation, not predatory lechery.

I didn’t resist when he pulled me close. We were nearly nose-to-nose.

“What if I gave you a fucking hint where to find the giant bull with the giant bull schlong?”

I almost twittered at the word “schlong,” but truth be known, hearing Dyno utter it made me all kinds of melty. My nipples stiffened and my inner cunt quivered. I was a virgin but had made sure not to appear that way by slowly, methodically, over time plunging bigger and bigger dildos inside myself, so I knew my inner workings. I’d come around the big plastic tools, feeling their fullness, wondering what a real man would feel like.

Now Dyno’s erection gave me a hint. I didn’t recoil when my hips met his and his enormous erection banged up against my pubic bone. His dick didn’t run down his thigh anymore—it stood up stiff, poking out from the hip area, and his jerking me forward bashed my pussy against it.

I didn’t jerk back.

We just panted at each other for a few seconds. I wanted a hint about as much as I wanted a giant bull schlong—in other words, a fuck of a lot—and I was just a split second away from losing it and banging Dyno on the island.

The headlights in the driveway ruined the mood.

The hot and heavy aura vanished, and I finally yanked my arm from his grip. I sneered at Dyno. “I don’t need any fucking hint.”

I stalked out of the kitchen. Unfortunately I bashed almost directly into Marcus, who was coming in the front door. He reeked of whiskey, and he immediately grabbed my wrist and pushed me back against the wall so hard my skull bumped against it.

“Oo,” he oozed, his hand immediately coming up to cup my boob, “nice juicy titties all prettied up just for me.”

I risked snapping at him. “They’re not just for you,
uncle
. I was just talking to
Dyno
.” Maybe I was using Dyno’s name as a sort of talisman, a protector. I don’t know. Maybe I wanted two men fighting over me. Lawson had just fought Dyno because Olivia had drooled over him, not me.

Irritation did flicker across his face. His hand froze on my tit. “Dyno?
That
punk? You’re dressed like this talking to
that
cowhand?”

I was pleased. “Sure. Why not? Better than dressing like this for
you
!”

He yanked me toward him, but it was only to bash me against the wall again. “Are you forgetting my agreement with your father, you fucking slut?”

“What’s this all about?”

We both whipped our heads aside. Of course it was Dyno himself, arms folded in front of his chest. His half-mast erection still stood out in sharp relief, and I was proud. Yes, I was proud that this buff cowboy had come to my rescue! I used the moment to shove Marcus violently, and he nearly stumbled to the ground.

But he didn’t take his eyes off Dyno. “What’s
this
is none of your business, cow puncher.”

Dyno took a step forward. “What’s
this
is you’ve been bothering my stepsister for who knows how fucking long, and it’s going to stop.”

I was even more pleased. Something like pride and gratitude swelled in my chest. But years of kowtowing to Marcus had put their stamp on me, and I said, “It’s okay, Dyno. We know what we’re doing.”

Dyno’s eyes narrowed, and he looked from me to Marcus, Marcus to me. “Somehow, I doubt that very fucking much. Marcus, I’m standing here until you get the fuck down that hallway. Sleep it off. No one’ll mention it again if it never happens again.”

To my surprise, Marcus did as commanded, muttering insults and oaths against Dyno the whole way. Now I was stuck in a completely different position, indebted to Dyno. I had to adopt my old hard attitude. Forget about the appreciation in my heart.

“Nothing happened.” I wasn’t very convincing.

Dyno took me by the shoulders. “Yeah, well, ‘nothing’ has been happening for a long time with that weirdo, I’ve got a feeling. Why do you put up with it? He’s nothing but a fucking twisted perv.” I said nothing, and he nodded as though this meant agreement. “My bedroom’s closer to yours than his is. I’ll be sleeping with my door open.”

I jerked away. “Don’t bother,
perv
,” I said, for lack of another word. I was really showing my education. “There’s nothing for you to protect me from. Nothing’s going on with Marcus.”

And again, I tried to stalk with dignity toward the bedrooms.

“Why do I doubt that?” Dyno called out after me.

I poured a giant gin and tonic after locking my bedroom door—I’d had a lock installed a couple years ago when Marcus became
really
insistent. You’d better know I whipped out my BOB then after dimming the lights.

I’d finished up my fantasy a few dozen times since I began writing it in my brain. Now it was no stress to jump right to the part where I was hoovering Dyno’s colossal dick. By now I was intimately familiar with the sight, texture, and scent of his beautiful prick.

In my dream, I gulped and chugged his delicious semen. My dream was slightly more exaggerated than the load I’d seen him shoot in the shower. That seemed like months ago now, but the vision hadn’t paled any—it had just gotten more intense, sharper, like a fucking monster movie with this giant dick spewing cream.

And in my dream, I chugged nearly all of it. I let some dribble down my neck just to feel it, a slimy snail’s trail of gobs dripping between my boobs.

I always slept well after tucking BOB back into my nightstand.

And, in the morning when I opened my sliding glass door to step out for a cig—another thing I would quit on my mother’s anniversary—I nearly tripped over a pot of beavertail cactus, its bright pink blooms hurting my sleepy eyes.

What, had the gardener moved this here early that morning for some bizarre reason? I looked around. Nothing else was out of place.

Then I noticed the pot was sitting on top of an open Scrabble board. Tiles had been arranged on the board that said
WHERE THIS BLOOMS
.

There were plenty of beavertail cactus around my house. Hardscrabble had about a zillion—

Hardscrabble
.
Scrabble.

I could barely contain my excitement as I flung on some clothes that weren’t totally clean and peed as fast as possible.

Of course, Dyno’s bike was gone. He left early to the catch pens these days to consult with Javier and plan the day’s herd movements.

I peeled out of there. My new car wasn’t used to going on dirt roads, and when I took the turn for Javier’s house I nearly spun out.

But I kept going. How hard would it be to find a life-sized iron bull in the middle of the desert?

The beavertail cacti were flowering wildly out there, the end of their blooming period. I was always sad to see them stop, and many lined the driveway to the catch pens. Dyno’s Harley was parked there. He would take a horse from there to the corral.

But I knew Dyno wouldn’t involve Javier in any crime, so I kept going past the corral, where they chose which horses to ride or break. I wound up at a staging area for large earth-moving equipment—where I knew lots of the fluorescent magenta cacti grew.

There was the silhouette of Bull Gravy. Its erect penis stood out prominent as ever in the days of my youth. What had the article said? “The penis had welcomed many to the hallowed halls of education”. Boy, it had done a good job. I could—and did—spot that iron dick a mile away. I got out of my car, smiling as I approached the statue.

Dyno must’ve seen me drive by. He soon came loping up on a muscular pinto. His lopsided grin told me he was proud and surprised I’d figured out his clue.

He looked fantastic in his cowboy gear, the dusty leather chaps framing his big dick, cradled in the crotch of his faded jeans. As he dismounted, my eyes were glued to that ass, and I knew I was doomed.

DYNO

“Y
ou found it.”

She looked happy, the sunny and dewy April I used to get a kick out of. I was sort of overjoyed she’d interpreted my clues instantly. She was no fucking dummy. I knew she could’ve gone on to a good college if she hadn’t been distraught over her mother’s death.

“Yes!” She seemed so damned please by my little game, and I was encouraged. I hadn’t seen her this happy in a long time.

“Was it too easy for you?”

“It was,” she admitted coyly. “The second I thought it might be somewhere on Hardscrabble, I put two and two together.”

“But you figured out the cactuses.”

“Cacti.” She corrected me. It was adorable. “Well, yes. And I knew that most of them are out here at the staging area. And that you’d need a boom truck to get this damned thing back to its rightful place. You
were
planning on returning it, weren’t you?”

I shrugged, thumbs hooked casually in my belt. “I was kind of thinking it’d look righteous here. Or maybe at the main gates of Hardscrabble. The big dick would be a symbol of how excellent your beef is.”

I made her laugh. Suddenly I was all about that. I had moved to California, joined the circuit, become an even better cowboy than I’d ever believed possible. And all I wanted to do now was make April Pleasure laugh. Back in the old days—that seemed for-fucking-ever ago now—I had sometimes made her laugh instead of fume at my practical jokes. Like the time I rigged a cup of glitter to shower over her head when she opened her desk drawer. I was standing right there with a payroll question when I asked her for some gum that I knew was in the drawer. It was a mild, childish joke, but her laughter made it all worthwhile. Even if she did make me vacuum up the scattered glitter.

She looked up at the bull, which I’d positioned on a mound of earth. More imposing that way. “It does have a certain air of…”