Ryder (Rope 'n Ride Series Book 2) (4 page)

Annoyed, Ryder stared at Joy’s retreating back. Dammit, he’d done it now. She’d never talk to him again.

But he’d sure as hell try to make her.

* * * * *

Joy folded her fingers into her palm and tried to shake off the sensation of her hand meeting Ryder’s rugged, stubbled cheek. Damn him for kissing her—and double damn him for raising such need in her.

A burning, scorching, wildfire kind of need. Her pussy seemed to pulse in time to her heart, and her breasts felt too big for her bra cups.

To make matters worse, she was only about twelve paces from him at all times. And he was
looking
at her.

She ignored him, keeping her face turned away and her focus on Cody and Tucker’s training. They were good bull riders. Trouble was, one man was better. Better at everything, it seemed—even kissing.

Stealing a peek from the corner of her eye, she noted Ryder standing with arms folded and legs braced wide, comfortable in his own skin as he BS’d with one of the other bull riders.

“Any words of wisdom for me, Miss Joy?” Cody drawled.

She snapped her attention onto him. He was cute in a boy-next-door way. With hair that tended to flop into his eyes when he removed his hat, which was often. He seemed to put that hat on and off more than a little girl at church. He held still as much too.

Shifting from boot to boot, he gave her a smile. Joy’s skin prickled, but not from Cody’s grin. No, Ryder’s gaze fell heavily on her. Lawdy, she almost felt his weight atop her.

Goosebumps ran down her arms, and she dragged in a deep breath. “Keep your mind off the scoreboard. Concentrate on the ride and let your body react naturally. You’re trained to know what to do.”

God, why did everything she said seem to have some sexual meaning?
Because sex is on your brain, dummy.

She stole a look at Ryder and met his unwavering stare. Was it her imagination or were his eyes darker—blacker?

He shifted his jaw, and she realized he was grinding his teeth. Then he flicked his gaze to Cody, and she realized why.

Good, now you know how I felt when that girl kissed you.

Being even in the jealousy department didn’t make her feel better, though. Actually, she felt more miserable. She just wanted her easygoing life of floating between rodeos and the ranch, living a life she adored with no complications. Suddenly a gorgeous bull rider had wedged his boot in the cogs of her motor.

I’d like him to shove something else in my inner workings.

Shaking her head, she pivoted away from him. But Cody was chatty, and she was forced to make conversation with him about their surroundings, the announcer having a strange squeak in his voice, and whether or not the fireworks were as good in Prescott as everybody said they were.

Finally, Cody got on the topic of the bull selection.
Talk I can get into.

As they discussed the bulls they’d draw from, she was very aware of a certain rider several feet away strapping on his lucky chaps.

She knew that from the reality show.

Chaps given to him by his father and the ones he’d won seven out of nine events wearing last year.

Her gaze wandered.

Trim hips with steely thighs covered in speckled pony-skin. The strap riding just over his bulge—

She jerked her gaze away but not before she caught his damn crooked smile.

Playboy.

She rubbed her hands together and tried to forget the feel of his cheek—sharp with dark beard sprouting in the Arizona heat. And warm skin that smelled of musk and man.

The hellfire was back again.

She pushed out a breath. “I’m going to take my place behind the riders, okay? Good luck, Cody.”

He leaned in and flipped a tendril of her long hair on her shoulder. “Do I get a good-luck kiss?”

“Absolutely not.”

If Ryder asked, on the other hand…

The first rider was in the chute, but right out of the gate he dumped it. Hit the dirt in a cloud of dust and the bull fighters ran in to keep him from being stomped on. Cheers from the crowd. Joy was a mess of nerves, and only partially because her father’s protégées were up next.

Tucker was a young, cocky rodeo guy who’d discovered his natural ability to ride by accident. He’d been pretty buzzed the first time he’d jumped onto a bull, and soon he was doing it sober too. Her father had scouted him at one of the rodeos in the South—she couldn’t remember which one.

They all blended together for the most part, but something told her she’d remember Prescott as the place where Ryder Calhoun had awakened a dormant beast inside her.

She swung her head his direction and caught his grin as he spoke to one of his brothers. They were all gorgeous men, but Ryder had something special.

She let her gaze track over his features—nose slightly off center, probably broken a time or two from pitching headfirst off a bull. Chiseled jaw. And his lips…

As if he felt the weight of her stare, he looked at her. Her stomach flip-flopped and she pressed her thighs together to ease the ache between them. While he wrapped his rope securely around his hand, he didn’t look away from her. She mouthed, “Good luck.”

He barely gave her a head-dip of acknowledgement before the chute was opened. The bull came out with hooves flying. Back arching, the dust thick in the air as he bucked wildly.

Ryder was grinning.

Cheers erupted, and she was aware of many cameras around her as the film crew got footage of the best ride of the season.

“Damn, that boy’s got what it takes,” her father said from beside her.

She nodded, unable to form words or look away from the beautiful man holding his own against the two-thousand-pound beast.

The announcer was going crazy over the ride, using words like outstanding and unprecedented. She had to agree—he was poetry on the back of that bull.

When the buzzer sounded, signaling his eight seconds were up, he remained seated, arm jerking in counterbalance. Thighs gripping.

He let the bull whip him another two complete three-sixties and then leaped off, boots hitting the dirt and his hat in the air.

The crowd screamed. Women waved and jumped up and down. Men hooted in admiration.

But Ryder scrambled into the crowd and gave his brothers knuckle-bumps and high-fives. Then two little dark-haired girls leaped at him, and he flipped one upside down while the other clung to his leg. Finally, a beautiful blonde woman, Buck’s wife she knew from the season finale of
Rope ’n Ride
, took the girls away and Ryder stood grinning up at his score.

Joy hardly remembered Tucker’s ride and Cody did well enough, but it was obvious who’d won the event. Ryder leaned against the wall with his family while the little girls—who did they belong to anyway?—crawled all over him.

Joy didn’t blame them. That’s where she wanted to be too. Climbing him like a tree, his strong arms supporting her and his lips commanding hers again.

The tall heeler, Asher Franklin, took the girls off, and she realized they were his daughters. Joy was glued to the scene. It seemed once the Calhouns brought you into their lives, you were a permanent fixture. And everything they did was fascinating, which was why America had fallen in love with their reality show.

Ryder caught her staring and she twisted away to talk to her father. The results were about to be announced, followed by the fireworks.

She flexed her fingers to dispel some of her nerves. Her father needed one of his guys to place. But part of her wanted Ryder to get the win.

What was wrong with her? Sure, he’d had a great ride but her reason for wanting to see him on that podium holding up his buckle was purely selfish—because she just wanted to
look
at him.

His big body and that winning smile. She groaned.

A huge explosion from the crowd. Looking around, she saw Ryder fist-punching the air and his brothers hoisting him up onto their shoulders. Unable to stop herself, Joy smiled at the happy display.

* * * * *

Red and blue lights scattered over Joy’s beautiful, upturned face. Her big eyes were fixed on the fireworks display, shining with the reflections.

Ryder sandwiched his tongue between his teeth to keep from calling out to her. She stood close enough that he could have her in his arms in a blink. Bent over the railing in two.

From there he’d take his time with her. He’d need all night long to get his fill of her.

Another huge flower burst in the sky over the stadium. Instead of watching the petals separate and trickle downward like rain, Joy moved her stare to him.

His cock hardened instantly, but worse was the bald longing she raised in him. What was it about her? Sure, she was an eyeful and he wanted more than a handful of her. But there was some clash of her eyes that he’d never felt with another woman.

For the most part, women at rodeos were all the same, right?

Warm, tanned arms spun around his middle, and he stiffened. Turning, he found a Buckle Bunny with stars in her eyes.

He bit back a groan and tried to disentangle himself, when she leaned in and licked his earlobe. “Come to my room tonight, cowboy. Number 109. Over there.” She pointed past him in some direction he couldn’t care less about going in.

Not unless Joy was leading him.

He pushed the woman back a step. “Thanks but no.”

“But I’ve heard you’re such…a…good…lover.” She punctuated each word with more licks to his earlobe. He suddenly knew how a salt lick felt under a cow’s tongue. Granted, she was cute but not his type, especially with Joy steps away from him.

He pushed her off him once and for all and spun to find the object of his desires gone.

“Dammit,” he said under his breath and took off into the gathered crowd, watching the fireworks. He’d never find her in this throng, and especially in the darkness. But he couldn’t let her get away a second time.

He didn’t make it ten steps into the crowd before he located several cowboys clustered around Joy. Ryder didn’t stop to see if she welcomed their attentions—he barged into the middle of them, breaking them apart with his big shoulders and bigger attitude.

Joy’s face registered shock as he grasped her elbow and dragged her away.

She dug her boot heels in. “Where are you taking me?”

“Someplace where we can talk.” Several booming fireworks shook his chest walls. Joy’s elbow was warm in his fingers and he wanted to pick her up and shove her against the nearest wall.

“I appreciate you getting me away from those guys, but you can let me go now.”

He towed her through the mass of people to the far end of the arena where the chutes were located. Seemed fitting that he’d claim her here.

She pulled out of his grip, but he caught her again, giving her a don’t-try-it stare that closed her pretty lips around her protest.

After yanking open one of the gates, he shoved her into the chute.

“What are you doing?” she burst out.

“This.” He cradled her face with all the tenderness she brought out of him and lowered his mouth to hers. She gasped, and he took immediate advantage, swiping his tongue through the interior of her sweet mouth. She moaned. He growled.

When she wove her arms around his neck, he lifted her against the side of the chute, letting her feel every inch of his desire for her. With a quiet noise of wanting, she angled her head and kissed him back.

Soft exploring that soon raged into long, hungry kisses he never wanted to end. She dug the points of her short nails into his shoulders and he found her ass. Round and fitting perfectly in his hands.

“Ask me to your room,” he muttered between kisses.

“Never.”

He stared into her passion-filled gray eyes and nipped her lower lip. “Why not?”

She bit him back slightly harder. His cock ached. “Because I don’t date cowboys.”

“It’s not dating. It’s a one-night stand.” Even as he said it, he knew he was lying. One night wouldn’t be enough.

“I definitely don’t do one-night stands with cowboys.”

“I’m a rancher too. Do you do it with ranchers?” He nibbled her throat, making her writhe against him. She stuck her hands into his back pockets, shooting heat through his whole lower body.

“No...ranchers,” she murmured as he kissed a path down her neck to her collarbones.

“Then who can you do it with?”

“Nobody wearing a hat.”

He withdrew, plucked his hat off his head and tossed it into the muck inside the chute. “Problem solved. C’mon, Princess. I’ve been standing five feet from you all day, and I’m aching for you.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and dazed. She kneaded his ass through his pockets, and he clutched her buns harder.

The final boom of fireworks ended, leaving a ringing silence. Joy pulled away as the crowd cheered.

“I can’t, Ryder. I know what kind of guy you are.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, wanting her touch on him again. “What kind of guy is that?”