Impossible (12 page)

“You guys wanna stop maulin’ each other long enough to go get somethin’ to eat?” I heard CJ ask from behind me.

Pink hit my cheeks and I rolled my eyes while Coleman proceeded to chuckle. He thought everything was funny.

“Not staying for the award this time?” I asked in jest, but Coleman’s eyes cut to me.

I guess he really didn’t know about CJ leaving all the time to watch him.

CJ kept talking, desperate to deflect the conversation back to safe waters, chuckling softly to keep his tone light. “I didn’t win, Roni. I got a little sloppy when he turned away from my hand.”

Willing to give him an out for now (I would just tell Coleman about CJ’s tradition later), I kept up CJ’s pretense by commenting, “You looked good to me.”

He smiled to take the sting out of his words and told me, “That’s because you don’t know anything about bull riding.”

I decided that was a fair enough assessment, so I shrugged my shoulders.

Coleman laughed again, the rich sound of it filling the night air around us. He slid his arm along my shoulders and steered us toward his truck as CJ and Nan followed along behind us.

Nan had watched this whole interaction quietly, but she’d had a smile on her face.

********

We were piled in the truck after eating at The Dip and Shake, and Coleman had just told Nan and CJ that he was going to drop them off at CJ’s truck and then take me to a hotel.

He said it like he was going to drop me off, but when I glanced in the mirror, the expression on CJ’s fifteen year old face was knowing.

Ugh, how embarrassing.

I could feel a blush tint my skin again, but when Coleman reached over and squeezed my hand, my embarrassment fled as quick as it came.

When we pulled up next to CJ’s truck, CJ reached forward, squeezed my shoulder, and murmured, “See you soon, Roni.”

“Yeah, good job tonight, CJ,” I said in response.

Nan leaned forward, kissed my cheek, and got out without a word. Then again, the kiss on my cheek really said it all.

Once they were out and safely in CJ’s truck, Coleman put his truck back in drive and pulled back out of the parking lot headed for the hotel.

The cab was filled with silence, and my nervous energy was building by the second. I was scared that maybe I wouldn’t live up to expectations or maybe I had forgotten what to do.

I doubted that was actually the case, and I figured that even if it was, Coleman would teach me all over again, but the anticipation was killing me.

I was just about to tell Coleman that I couldn’t do this when he grabbed my hand and asked a question of his own. One that apparently been on his mind for a while now. “What did you mean about CJ not staying for the award earlier?”

Oh geez. I guess there was nothing to do other than just come out and tell him. Deciding to butter him up, I started with, “Honey,” paused for just a beat and then continued, “CJ never stays. If you’re riding somewhere, and it’s gonna be on TV, he goes to The Dip and Shake to watch you.”

I could see him alternately glancing at me and then back at the road before he asked softly, “What? Every time?”

I answered to the best of my ability, telling him, “I’ve only been with him once, but I got the distinct impression from the way everyone acted that, yes, he does it every time.”

When Coleman was quiet again, I added soothingly, “He’s proud of you, honey.”

Coleman didn’t say anything as we pulled up to the hotel and parked. He still didn’t say anything as we got out, he grabbed my hand, we walked inside, he checked in, and we made our way up to our room.

That was a lot of silence from someone who usually had so much to say, and it was starting to make me nervous.

We walked into the room, and he turned on the lamp beside the bed before sitting us both down on the foot of it, shoulder to shoulder.

“Who’s there to be proud of him?” he asked in a volume only slightly above a whisper.

I didn’t understand what he was asking so I sought clarification. “I don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m proud of him, obviously. So fuckin’ proud, Roni. But who’s there to show him that?”

To me the answer was more than obvious. “Coleman, he knows how proud of him you are. And if he didn’t, Nan is there to tell him...And now, so am I.”

Before I even saw it coming, I was on my back in the bed and Coleman was on top of me, his lips crushing themselves on top of mine.

I opened my mouth immediately, and his tongue snaked in. His kiss was hungry and needy, aggressive even, but somehow it was gentle at the same time. It was a perfect combination of lust and feeling, accurately conveying his desire but showing that that desire was based on emotion.

His hands went to my waist and then skated up my sides, bringing my shirt along with them and making every nerve stand at attention. I lifted my arms immediately, giving him what he wanted by assisting in getting my shirt off. Reaching around my back, he unhooked my bra, and then followed that up by reaching between his shoulder blades with one hand to pull his own shirt off.

As soon as his lips came back to mine, he murmured against them, “I wanted to feel skin on skin,” in explanation.

All I could do was agree with a “Yes” as his mouth worked on my throat and his hands lightly skimmed along my bare sides, warming me but causing a shiver to skate up my spine at the same time.

One thing was for sure, his conversation about CJ had served as a distraction, taking my mind off of the sex and allowing me to be in the moment when it started to unfold. I had a feeling Coleman knew that. It was obvious he meant everything he said in that conversation, but its timing was almost definitely a strategic maneuver.

His mouth moved from my throat, down to my collarbone, slowly working from one side to the other, a heady combination of licking, nibbling and kisses.

I could feel my blood pumping through my veins, rushing to the surface of my skin and making it tingle everywhere. My breasts were heavy and my nipples were hard, craving attention.

He lifted his body just enough so that he could slide his hand up the front of my ribs and then palm my swollen breast. His hands were rough, and I’d never felt anything better. It was like his hands made him feel more masculine, and in turn, made me feel more delicate and womanly than I had ever felt.

The pad of his thumb moved up and swiped my nipple, and a white hot zap of electricity shot from my nipple to the wet area between my legs.

Wanting more contact, wanting to feel his entire body against mine, my hands left their place at his shoulders, slid down his warm, taut back, and swept around his hips to the front to try and unbuckle his pants.

Several seconds later, when I had still made no progress on my own and Coleman’s mouth had moved back up to mine to caress my tongue with his, I whimpered, “I wanna feel all of you, baby. Skin on skin.”

With practiced ease, Coleman reached between our bodies with one hand and undid the button of my pants, his mouth still tangled with mine, before he pulled back from me, pulled my pants and panties down in one swoop, and then made short work of his.

Such was his skill, I didn’t even notice him removing either one of our boots, but he did it all the same. His body came back down on top of mine, but this time I could feel the warmth and velvety feel of his skin from head to toe. His body was heavy and warm, one hundred percent solid, attractive man.

It was out of this world. Honestly, I had only slept with one man, and I had been nervous how I would feel being naked with a different one. But just like with everything else with Coleman, it felt right.

Coleman reached down between us, and used his fingers to explore the arousal between my legs, his other forearm resting in the bed to prevent causing me death by crushing.

When he felt how wet I was, his head fell forward, his forehead resting on mine, and his voice was the most raspy I had ever heard it. “Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ wet. God, Roni.”

His finger did a delicious circle around my entrance and after testing my acceptance, slipped inside, my walls squeezing every inch of his finger. “Jesus Christ, you’re so tight too. Shit baby, I’m gonna lose it as soon as I get inside you. I better make you come with my fingers first.”

His words turned me on even more, and as I felt myself get wetter around his stroking finger, I moaned.

In answer, he slipped in another finger, his strokes got faster, and his fingers caressed the inner wall at the same time that his thumb circled the bundle of nerves on the outside.

Instantly, I came. My inner walls spasmed, and my head flew back to the bed, “Oh God, Coleman!” coming resoundingly from deep in my throat. Truthfully, it wasn’t all that resounding in volume, having come out in barely a whisper, but what I lacked in volume I made up for in enthusiasm. And if his actions were any indication, Coleman could tell.

His lips crashed down on mine, and though I was still very securely entrenched in the fog of my orgasm, I felt him seat himself between my legs and drive inside.

My inner walls were still convulsing with my previous completion, so they pulled him deeper inside, milking at him even before he started to move.

I looked down to see that, at some point, he had covered himself with a condom.

Coleman’s head came up enough so that his mismatched eyes could look directly in mine when he said, “You. Are. Beautiful. God, so beautiful, Roni. The way you look, they way you feel, the way you taste. Fuck, even the way you smell is absolutely the most intoxicating mixture I’ve ever experienced.”

Pulling his hips back gently, he slid out and then slid back in, starting a deliciously slow but pronounced stroke. Using that rhythm, he set his pace and kept at me, freeing my body and my mind with every delicious inward motion.

I felt so alive, his hands moving lovingly all over my body as mine did the same. Surprisingly, his hands were equal opportunity feelers. I would have expected him to spend more time caressing my breasts, my ass, the usual suspects. But they didn’t. I mean, they spent a fair amount of time on those, but it was more. They were everywhere. Lovingly stroking my side, my jaw, tangling in my hair, and sliding down the length of my legs as I wrapped them around his back. Every single inch of skin that was within his reach, he touched.

When I felt another orgasm building my hands left his body and made their way to his head, tangling in his almost black hair, and pulling his eyes up to meet mine.

I held his head there, letting him in, trying to say the things I wasn’t saying with words, letting him watch as the emotion filled my eyes. He was right; this was right. But I was emotionally stunted. All I could give him were my eyes and the wetness that filled them.

I could feel us both getting close, and when we finally let go, we did it together. Neither of us said anything, but a single tear slid out of the corner of my eye.

Coleman’s hands had been cupping my jaw, so when he saw the tear, his thumb shot out to wipe it away.

His forehead settled on mine, and we stayed like that, connected and breathing each other, and the moment, in.

That had meant something huge to both of us. That much was obvious. At least, it was to me, and I hoped like all hell that it was obvious to him.

After minutes in the same position had passed, Coleman pulled back and out slowly before trailing kisses down the entirety of my body. When he got to my abdomen and placed kisses along the length of my scar, my body tensed and I started to break out in a panic.

I had forgotten about it- about everything that it meant. I had forgotten that he would be able to see it, that it would leave things that I wasn’t ready to tell him open to questioning or interpretation. He had so taken my mind off of it, out of the world really, to a place where no one existed other than the two of us, that my scar hadn’t even registered.

But now it did. In a big freaking way.

But before I could say anything, Coleman rolled us so that I was straddling him, reached out and grabbed my breasts with both hands, and declared, “Real, baby. Definitely, all fuckin’ real.”

Oh my God! He was talking about the fact that I didn’t have implants! God, he had a talent for killing moments.

My chest started to puff up with attitude, but he kept talking. “And you were right. You’re actually pretty quiet.” Waggling his eyebrows, he challenged, “I’ll have to get creative and see how loud I can get you. Better yet, find out
what
exactly it is that it takes to get you makin’ noise.”

Something I didn’t quite realize at the time- he may have killed the moment, but he also made me forget all about the attention he had paid to my scar.

That was another one of his skills. It was probably one of his most incognito, but masterful, talents actually. He had a real gift for being able to do something intimate, something that connected us that much deeper, but move on before I had a chance to fully realize it was happening. And he moved on with so much skill that it was seamlessly effective, my mind always fully immersed in the next thought or action without realizing I had made a transition.

It was actually really freaking impressive.

But at the moment, I was concentrating on the fact that his hands were palming my breasts, I was poised for a fight, and he had essentially thrown down a challenge.

Immediately, I launched myself at him, moving my lips down his neck, chest, abdomen, and down, my hands making their own journey at the same time.

It was time to make him make some noise of his own.

Chapter 11

The three weeks since Coleman and I had finally done the deed had gone by in a whirlwind.

Believe it or not, I fell really comfortably into a routine, mixing my life with their’s as if it was done by design.

We spent a few days at their house, riding horses, sitting on the porch, cooking in the kitchen, and riding bulls.

Well, technically, I had just watched them ride bulls, but I liked to pretend I was the one doing it by association or something. Unfortunately, I had watched both of them hit the ground several times, both by getting bucked off before the passing of eight seconds and by just having a hard time getting off once it was over. It was bound to happen sometime, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

CJ had apparently gotten “down in the well” on one bull, or trapped in the vortex of the bull’s spin, and his hand had gotten hung up on his dismount as a result.

I legitimately thought my heart would stop, watching the bull flail his body around, all the guys jumping right in in an effort to free his hand.

Turns out, I was really good in scary-as-shit situations as long as they only included me. Throw in someone I care about, especially a kid, and I was a freaking wreck. Thankfully, he was really talented and this wasn’t a frequent occurrence or I had the feeling it would start to take a toll on my health.

Coleman and CJ had both tried to reassure me, jumping in to tell me that it was no big deal as both of them had broken so many bones they’d lost count.

Yeah, as you can guess, that didn’t do all that much to ease my ravaged mind.

In other activities, Coleman had spent his nights trying to make me get loud, and while it turns out I’m generally just pretty quiet in bed, he succeeded a few times.

Josh and I had been good together in bed, but we had both been virgins when we got together in high school. It was clear that Coleman’s prior slutiness was working for me in a big way.

He introduced me to all sorts of delicious positions, and I honestly couldn’t tell you what was my favorite because they were all
that
awesome.

And just like the rest of our relationship, the sexual aspect had filled in naturally and the chemistry was just right.

The next week had been filled with storms again. I got the itch to chase so I went, and Coleman had to leave to go ride in New York, so it just made sense that I went back anyway.

I did stop back in Huntsford in between and visit Nan and CJ though. And I went to every rodeo CJ rode in. I had meant it when I told Coleman that I would be the one to be there to make sure CJ knew Coleman was proud of him. Knew
we
were proud of him.

This pattern had continued for the next couple of weeks, with some visits from Coleman and a liberal amount of phone sex thrown in. Once we started having sex, we missed it.

So we got creative. Neither one of us had had phone sex before, Coleman stating, “Baby, when I needed a woman before, I just found one. I didn’t bother with callin’ one so that I could stroke myself when I could have someone do it for me.”

I had blinked, my anger starting to boil to the surface, but he hastily added, “And before you fuckin’ say something, it’s different now and you know it. I’d rather have the imaginary you than the real anybody else.”

Obviously, his statement had appeased me and then some. I made sure I got extra loud on the phone for him as a reward.

The nightmares still came every night, whether Coleman was sleeping beside me or not, so I had begun to resign myself to the fact that I would just have to deal with them for the rest of my life.

Now I was walking through the airport in Atlanta, Georgia, fresh off of the plane Coleman had insisted I get on. His exact words had been, “I swear to God, Banty. Just get on the fuckin’ plane. I have to be here because it’s my job but I miss you so much it fuckin’ hurts. Get. On. The. Plane.”

I got on the plane.

And then, as I sat in my tiny (even for a vertically challenged person such as myself) coach airplane seat trying not to let myself tear through my palms with my fingernails, I let myself consider the possibility that I was falling in love with him.

And then, after several minutes of very scary contemplation, I tried to stop myself from hyperventilating when I realized it wasn’t a possibility, it just was.

And I wasn’t falling...I was already a big freaking body shaped splat on the pavement.

Shit. Dizzle.

It’s safe to say that the person seated next to me had inched away, convinced they had been seated next to a psychopath. That, or someone who was only seconds away from losing their lunch in tight quarters. The latter had actually been true.

I looked down at my worn brown cowboy boots as I walked, the anticipation of seeing him after coming to this powerful epiphany gnawing at my gut.

Stupidly, I had also put in an effort, wearing a new pair of tight jeans and a tank top that cut low enough to tease with a little cleavage, and even blowing out my hair and putting on a little bit of makeup. It felt weird to go through the motions again. Years ago, it was something I did everyday. Vying for a position as an on air Meteorologist, I had to.

Sometimes it seemed like I was two entirely different people; like there was no way I could have lived both of these lives in the same short lifetime.

As I finally came to the end of the long concourse of gates, I turned the corner and made my way out through security so that I could go get my checked bag.

I wasn’t even really sure who was picking me up or where they were going to be, but what I didn’t expect was to see Coleman right there, as far as he could come as an un-ticketed passenger, just on the other side of security. I thought he would be at the arena, getting ready, too busy to come and pick me up himself.

Immediately, I felt a tightening in my chest. The good kind of tightening.

He was leaning his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, and his feet crossed at the ankles. His wranglers were tight and worn, his belt was clasped with his ever present buckle, and he had on a blue t-shirt that was remarkably similar to the color of his one blue eye.

His skin was golden tan, his dark hair was almost wildly askew, and his face was rough with a heavy stubble.

God, he looked gorgeous.

I watched avidly as his eyes took me in and then moved passed me, only to snap back violently as he pushed himself off of the wall and straightened. Apparently, a double take had been necessary.

Just managing to keep my step from faltering, I kept my eyes on his as he swiftly ate up the distance between us in half the time it would have taken me.

His hands shot out and grabbed my hips, which I was learning was his favorite place to hold me.

Uncaring that there were people all around us, he didn’t waste any time pulling my hips toward him and up so that I was flush against him, and my arms went around his neck since they didn’t have anywhere else to go.

His lips came directly to my ear, skimming and warming the skin of it as he spoke softly. “Jee-sus, Banty baby. You just got me hard just lookin’ at you. Did you do all this for me?”

I tried to play dumb, asking, “Do what for you?”

Coleman just raised his eyebrows and waited for me to cave.

It didn’t take long.

“Alright, fine. If you must know, I was hoping to pick up a bull rider tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know one would you?” I teased.

A chuckle bubbled out of his throat and a combination of hips and buckle smashed even harder into me. Moving his lips from my ear to my lips, he murmured, “I’m pretty sure I can scrounge one up. He might even be one of the best there’s ever been.”

I giggled, pushed myself out of his arms, and mock-protested, “Stop groping me in the middle of the airport,
Cade
. Let’s go.”

His face was one giant smile as he reached out, tagged my hand, and started us in the direction of baggage claim. As he walked, he talked. “Better get used to that, baby.”

“What? Getting groped in the middle of the airport?” I questioned.

“Well, yeah, that,” he winked, “But I meant everyone you run into is gonna call me Cade.”

I squeezed his hand, raised an eyebrow, and suggested, “Maybe I should call you Cade too. You can think of it like roll play. I’ll be the bitchy, hotheaded storm chaser, and you can be the really hot, successful bull rider.”

Happy and joking, I didn’t expect him to screech to an immediate stop, pull me out of the crowd and to the side, and get into my space. My heart started to beat faster, and I couldn’t help but get a little nervous. I didn’t know what was going on, but apparently what he had to say was important.

His face was close and his voice was low, and I could tell he wanted me to really listen when he said, “Two things, Banty baby. First, you call me Coleman. I like it that way, and I especially like it when my dick is in you. And second...now listen because this part is important...how is that roll play if that’s who we are?”

That’s not who we were. At least, not the way I saw it.

I could have rejected his notion right then, flat out stating that we weren’t those people and he should know it. But I didn’t want to let it go that easily. I had just come to an overwhelmingly important realization on the plane and this was the kind of thing that could make those feelings less legitimate. Slowly, I lifted my hand to his jaw and swept my thumb along it, curious to see if he really knew me at all. Keeping my voice soft, I did one of the scariest things I had ever done, dropping the carefully crafted mask I had been building for the last few years, and asked, “
Is
that who we really are, Coleman? Are you the famous bull rider, the ladies man, the cocky guy who thinks he’s hot shit? Am I really cold, unloving, bitchy, and better off all on my own?”

The way I saw it, that was just what we were on the surface. He was definitely a whole lot more than that selfish, overly confident guy. He was sweet, generous, and downright nurturing most of the time. Sure, he took care of you in a joking, funny, completely un-serious way. But he took care of you.

He took care of
me
.

And as for me, well, I sure as hell didn’t actually want to spend the rest of my days all on my own, never feeling the sweet softness that love can bring to your life.

As soon as he heard my words, his eyes flashed and his face warmed with something I swore looked a hell of a lot like love. A hell of a lot like what I felt for him.

His arms immediately surrounded me, crushing me into his body so hard that I found it difficult to breathe. Truthfully, my sudden lack of oxygen was probably half because of the physical weight crushing me and half a manifestation of how scared I was about letting somebody get close to me.

About admitting to myself that I freaking
wanted
him to get close to me.

“How in the fuck did I find you, Roni? Right now, hearing you say that about us, knowing you really see
me
...fuck, knowing you really see
you
, I know I’ve never met a luckier man than me,” he declared, his voice low and gravelly.

Tears stinging my eyes, I clawed desperately upward, trying to fight the pull of sweet-significant-other induced hysteria. My lips found his ear, and when they did, they nibbled it once (I just couldn’t resist) before I stated hesitantly, “I’m pretty sure I’m more comfortable when I’m a bitch and you’re a famous asshole.”

Chuckling, he didn’t move even an inch away, but he did mutter, “I’ll bet,” before giving me yet another bone-breaking squeeze.

“Come on, Banty. We gotta get goin’. We gotta get there for two reasons. One...I’m running late. And two...you need to relax, put your feet up, save your energy,” he stated casually before pushing back, pulling me away from the wall, grabbing my hand, and picking up a clipped pace on the way to baggage claim again.

I worked double time, basically doing the exact opposite of saving energy, in order to keep up and keep my breath enough to be able to ask him the question, “And why is it that I need to save up my energy again? I think I missed it.”

Coleman made a show of tsk-ing me, as though I was the misbehaving student who wasn’t paying attention in class, before explaining, “Because, my little Banty rooster, when I get done riding tonight, assuming I haven’t broken any major bones,” I cringed but he kept right on talking, “I’m gonna be feelin’ super energetic and creative, and I’m gonna wanna expend those things on you.”

Wow.

When we got to the carousel to wait for my bag, we stopped and I tugged on his hand so that he would face me. I thought about voicing my concerns about creative, but decided he would just end up giving me some innuendo-laden vague answer that did nothing to offer any real explanation. Instead, I prompted him with a different question. “You know, I just realized I’ve never been with you after you’ve finished a ride in a competition like this. What are you like?”

From what I had seen on TV, he was indeed full of energy and even more playful than normal. Which was really saying something because he was pretty exuberant on a typical day.

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna find out tonight,” he promised, a smirk on his handsome face and his voice making it sound a little bit like a threat. And by a little bit, I mean a lot.

Oh boy.

********

“Cute bunny, Cade. Let me know when you’re done with her,” I heard one of the other riders say. I think his name was Justin, but to be honest, I couldn’t really remember.

After rushing to leave the airport and driving only slightly slower than I would have, through some pretty heavy traffic, we were making our way though the arena so that Coleman could put me exactly where he wanted me.

Not like that! He still had a ride to make, so it wasn’t time to be naughty. Yet.

He had warmed up and done all the other bureaucratic crap he had to, and now he was looking for the perfect place for me to sit and watch. He didn’t want to leave me to my own devices out in the normal crowd since he didn’t really have anyone there he trusted to watch me. I had tried to tell him I would be fine on my own, that I had been fine on my own for quite some time, but my dear sweet alpha male didn’t seem to think that was good enough.