Mr. Unlucky (2 page)

Addie grinned. “Excellent powers of observation. Spectacular.”

“Well, I try, honey. It’s been awhile since anyone was so honest about it, I reckon.”

“Honesty is the best policy.” She waited for a heartbeat. “Like for instance, I think you’re incredibly hot. Are you as good with your hands as you seem?”

He didn’t even blink. “I’m pretty handy. In fact, I make my living with them.”

“Yeah? I’m a photographer. What do you do?” She knew that, of course, but a man sure liked to be asked. Stroking wasn’t only for below the buckle. Everyone knew Running Water Ranch, because having a profitable outfit made a man small-town famous. Hell, her dads sold hay to him.

“Ranching. Cattle and horses. Had goats for a bit, but they were too smart.” He winked. “Always climbing and getting out of fences.”

“I grew up on a ranch. Live on one now, as a matter of fact. What’s your position on dancing?”

“I rub belt buckles pretty well. Two-step. Waltz. I ain’t so good at the modern flail.”

God, he was adorable. Unflappable. Edible.

Addie couldn’t help her grin. “The modern flail. I like that.”

There was a fine line between slut and eager, hopefully she was still straddling it.

“Well, that’s what I look like when I try it.” Laughing, he flapped his hands like wings. “You want to try me out before buying in, we can throw a dollar in the jukebox before you ante up, play some George.”

“Oh, cowboy, I can totally try you out.” She dug a dollar out of her purse. “It’s so much nicer than just starting out with nice boots, wanna fuck?”

He took her hand and walked them across the dance floor to the jukebox, which still gave you three songs for a dollar. “Sure it is. You haven’t seen my boots yet, you know? What if they’re nasty?”

“Exactly. You’ll note I didn’t start out there.”

“And you. I mean, you got pretty painted toes, but how do I know how well you keep up your boots?”

All My Exes Live in Texas
started up, and Bodie pulled her on the dance floor.

“Absolutely. You never know with a girl. I might just have pink Ropers.” Which, okay, she owned a pair, for the winter. They made Daddy Chris smile.

“I like those on a girl.” He swung her into a two-step, and he’d been absolutely right. He was pretty good. So was she, and found herself smiling wider as he moved her. So what if he was the most unlucky man on Earth? No one who danced like this was clumsy in bed.

That was lucky, right?

He hummed a little, and when the song changed to a waltz, he shifted right into it.

Oh, hello nurse.

Really, hello nicely packed blue jeans, but still, he liked her. She could tell. Like, physically. That was perfect. He tripped her triggers. She let herself press close, all the way down.

He drew in a sharp breath, his rhythm breaking a bit. He opened his mouth just about the time the sound of rain on the old tin roof reached them. Bodie laughed. “Raining out there. How do you feel about muddin’?”

“I love it. I have a ponytail holder and a pair of tennies in my car. Wanna?”

“Hell, yes.” His hand slid down her arm, and he tugged her outside, the rain pattering down on them, cool and good.

She hooted and headed for her big red Charger, grabbing her shoes and purse from the back, making sure her camera bag was well hidden under her hoodie.

His truck was big, high, and already mud-splattered. It was perfect. She put her hair up and slipped on her shoes, looking up to find him watching her.

“You ready to play, cowboy?”

God love white tank tops.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. I know just the place.”

She swung up into his truck. “Let’s go, stud. I’m ready.”

She’d just text her dads on the way.

* * * *

Bodie glanced sideways at the girl sitting next to him on the bench seat of his truck, and he was torn between wondering what the hell a damned pretty girl like that was doing there, and being grateful she was. That and being grateful that he’d brought his older truck with the bench seat.

Tiny, curvy and pale, with huge blue eyes and a mass of red hair the likes he’d never seen, she made his mouth water. She was in a pair of painted-on jeans and a white tank top that was plastered to her curves. Her hair was up in a ponytail now, but when she’d plopped down next to him in the bar, it had been wild and loose.

She did it for him.

One of her hands slid over, curled around his thigh, testing his muscles. Forward girl.

He liked it. God knew he’d never met anyone like her. He cranked the radio up and turned off on the road that led to his back forty. He had a separate gate back there and no cattle running on that piece until the wind changed.

Time to tear it up.

She was fearless, too, clapping and hooting, bouncing on the seat. “Let’s go, cowboy! Show me what you got!”

“I got this.” He winked at her sideways, then tore off into the pasture, sending mud flying.

They spun out around the pond, covering the windshield with mud, and she applauded. “Nicely done!”

“Thank you.” He laughed out loud for pure joy when they topped the rise and flew for a moment.

They landed in a rush of grass and goo and water, the skies opening up around them like God had turned a big old spigot.

“Better head for high ground, honey.” He went for the nearest hill, not willing to be in a ditch and get swept away.

“Look at that come down.” She leaned up to stare out the windshield, totally unafraid.

“Yeah. I bet it feels good.” Bodie threw it into park before taking his hat off and hopping out into the storm.

She followed him, the rain driving against her as she danced in the headlights. Her little white tank clung to her body, and he could see she wore a lacy pink bra.

Her nipples were hard, her belly button ring dangled—she just blew his mind. She even had a sweet little belt buckle riding deep on her low-rider jeans. Looked like high-school rodeo.

God help him, Bodie thought he might be in love. His feet moved, taking him right over to her, so he could put his hands on her hips. She was laughing as she lifted her face to him, begging for a kiss as her hands wrapped around his shoulders.

Tilting his head as if he still had his hat on was habit, but pressing his mouth to hers was nothing ordinary or boring. She tasted like beer and lip-gloss, and he pressed into her mouth with his tongue, searching for more.

Her hot little body pressed against his, fitting like she was made for sin. Please God, let that be true. He pulled her up so her breasts rubbed his chest, his one hand sliding under her butt to feel the round softness of her ass.

She rocked back into his touch, just as bold as brass and hot as a firecracker. Damn. It was so easy to pull her one leg up around his hip and slip between her thighs, pressing her back against the truck.

A happy little sound pushed into their kiss as her hips rolled, dragging her all along his cock. Even through the wet layers of cloth, he could feel her, could tell she would be soft and slick and giving. He licked her lower lip, getting her settled but good against the front fender. Addie pushed down against his thigh, rubbing good and hard, going to town on him. She wasn’t a bit shy about taking what she needed, and she was like the storm, wild and addictive. He groaned, his body starting to rock.

He kept kissing, he couldn’t have stopped for love or money, and she was just begging for more, for one after another. Bodie’s heart slammed against his ribs, his legs felt weak, and he was afraid he was going to come in his pants.

Thunder clapped, the lightning hitting close enough that he smelled ozone, and she jumped, cuddled in close into him, shivering a little bit.

Shit. Gritting his teeth against the need riding him, Bodie pulled back and picked her up so he could put her in the cab of the truck. “Come on, honey. It’s gettin’ cold. Let’s head back to the house.”

“Tell me that we’re going to get to pick up where we left off when we get there.” Her teeth were chattering.

“Oh, honey.” He cranked up the heat, already mourning the loss of her body against his. “There’s no way I’m giving up a chance at you.”

“Thank God.” She stripped off her wet shirt, just as unashamed as can be, then snuggled into his side.

He put an arm around her, grateful as hell he had an automatic. He drove along the ridge on the way out, circling the long way back to the gate.

The storm raged, and he thanked God for the carport, too, pulling in out of the rain. His little ranch house wasn’t much on the outside, even if it was neat and clean, but he knew right now the inside held all they needed: a hot shower, blankets, a bed and snacks.

They stumbled in, dripping on the hardwood, the air conditioner making it feel frigid. He’d be grateful for that later. Right now, it left goose bumps on their skin, and he hauled her to the back bathroom, which had the big shower he’d put in a few years back when he started renovations. One day he’d get back on that.

She stepped out of the filthy canvas shoes, then wiggled out of the soaked jeans. Her panties matched her bra—pink and lacy.

Bodie reached for the top scrap of fabric, struggling with the space-aged clasp at the front. He got it, though, hooting his triumph, as her breasts spilled out, pale and creamy, dusted with the tiniest sprinkle of freckles. The pink peaks were hard, tight, begging for a touch.

Bodie hummed, his hands doing what came natural. He slid them up, cupped her, then thumbed her nipples. His skin felt so rough compared to hers. Addie arched, pushed right into his fingers, belly rippling as she did, the little ring in her navel twinkling. She was so damned perfect she made his mouth dry.

“You too, cowboy. I need to see.”

He struggled for a moment to understand what she was asking. His hands wouldn’t let go of her sweet skin. Then he realized she wanted him naked, and he was all over that. She helped him with his shirt, his belt, those painted nails sliding over his skin as it was exposed. Her happy little noise when she traced his stomach made him chuckle.

“You’re built like a brick shit house, cowboy.”

His chest swelled with pride. That wasn’t the only thing swelling, either. “And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Bodie touched her everywhere he could reach, from the hollow at the base of her throat to the swell of her breasts, down over her belly to the top of her strawberry curls.

“Let’s get wet and slick together.” She trailed one finger along his cock, his entire fucking body clenching with it.

“You’re gonna make it so I can’t walk, honey. If you want a shower, you be good.” He grinned, trying to steady himself.

“Mmm. Good is absolutely not what you want me to be.”

“No, ma’am. I sure don’t.” He got them moving, got her into the shower with the water streaming down.

She pulled that huge mass of hair down, the red curls bouncing all around her, the scent of peaches sudden and strong. He breathed deep, chuckling a little.

“You’re gonna smell like Old Spice.”

“I can live with that.” Her laughter bounced like the water on the tile. “If we do this right, we’re going to smell like sex.”

That was the kind of thinking he liked. A lot. Made him smile. He kissed her again, just for good measure, his hands sliding down her back. Her tiny, curvy little butt fit in his hands like magic, and her sweet lips opened right up to him.

If he thought too hard about all this, he might just freak out, unlucky as he was with women. So he didn’t think. He went with it.

She pressed up against him, going up on tiptoe to rock against him, honey sweet. Her breasts slid over him, and his cock pushed against her belly, the soft skin making him gasp. He walked her into the water, the spray turning her red curls dark and heavy. She laughed out loud, steadying herself with a hand on his chest. Her other hand slid lower. A lot lower.

Oh, damn. Damn. She cupped his balls, weighed them in her hand and rolled a little. When she lifted them, pressing them up against the base of his cock and pushing everything in a slow circle, he damned near lost it, going up on tiptoes to hold it all in.

“Mmm. You like that.”

Was there a fucking man on Earth that didn’t? “I do. I’d be crazy not to.”

Little minx just laughed her fine ass off, fingernails teasing the tip of his cock.

Two could play that game. He pushed a hand between her legs, cupping her mound, stroking gently.

“Oh.” Damn. Damn, was there a better sound on Earth than a woman wanting? It was so frickin’ hot. He wanted more of those noises, so he slid a finger inside her. She rocked, wet and slippery, and not from the shower. Damn, but that was fine. He wanted inside her, but he had no rubbers in there.

“Mmm. Like how your hands feel, cowboy.” She arched some, lips open, parted.

“I like how your everything feels.” She still held his important bits, and he thought they were warmed up enough. Bedtime.

“Good. I’m I clean enough for you?”

“Hell, yes.” He turned off the water and reached out into the bathroom for a fuzzy towel.

She wrung the water out of her thick, heavy hair, the mass slapping down on her arm.

“You got the prettiest hair, honey.” Bodie helped her dry it out a little.

“It’s a pain, but I’d cry if I had to cut it.”

She had a little barbed wire infinity symbol inked with the left loop circling her bellybutton, the sparkly bellybutton ring dangling. He grinned, tugging at it, not hard or anything.

“You playing with my jewels, now?” She shimmied, hips shaking for him.

“You played with mine.” His eyes crossed, his tongue trying to hang out.

“Uh-huh. Gonna do it again, too.” She quirked her finger at him, tempting him out.

He followed like the happy fool he was, then it was his turn to lead her. Into the bedroom. His hands wanted to touch everything—boobs, butt, the curve of her shoulder, the inside of her thigh. So he did touch her, his lips sliding on her skin, his fingers drawing patterns.

They made it to his bed, and she climbed up onto the mattress. She knelt there looking like something out of a Trace Adkins video, but with less plastic surgery. Addie was stunning. He stepped up, hands in her hair, to tilt her face up for a kiss. He took it deep, making his intent clear. Bodie was through playing. Foreplay was about done.