Ride a Cowboy (2 page)

demands and did something she’d only recently developed the skill to accomplish,

masturbating to orgasm being something her husband had considered a theft of his

own pleasure.

Moonlight glared through the top of the window and obscured her view of the

front yard, but she relaxed, knowing darkness, a good hundred yards distance from the

road and the spindly oaks in her front yard obscured the view inside her bedroom. She

didn’t live in the city anymore.

With one last guilty glance out the bare window, she slid her fingers beneath the

edge of her panties. And if her mind drifted to the tall Texan in the cream-colored

cowboy hat, well, she’d just put it down to a momentary weakness. He’d never know.

Feeling as low as a snake, the cowboy hid in the shadows just outside the woman’s

window and watched while her fingers disappeared beneath the edge of her pale

panties.

Such a private thing to witness. A weakness betrayed. A deep passion exposed.

He’d walked the quarter mile from his house to hers, following an urge so strong he

hadn’t questioned it. While she’d worked steadily, well into the evening, brushing

away a year’s worth of dust from her wooden floors and wrestling with furniture, his

gaze had followed her efficient movements, roaming the curves of her firm breasts and

ass and the tempting length of her legs beneath the frayed edges of her cutoff jeans.

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Delilah Devlin

When at last she’d turned off the light, he’d been rewarded for his patient vigil as

she’d drawn off her T-shirt and bra and slipped the shorts down her thighs. Although

too dark to see the color of her nipples, he’d discerned their size and witnessed them

drawing into beaded points when she’d rubbed them as though easing an ache. He’d

licked his lips, anticipating their velvet texture on his tongue. Then she’d drawn a small

top over her head that hugged her breasts like a second skin and did little to cool his

ardor.

He’d grown hungrier by the moment, coveting each sweet curve of her body,

determined to stake a claim and soon. She might be a little older than he’d have liked,

but the difference in their ages didn’t mean a thing to his cock. The large, hard knot of

his erection pressed uncomfortably against the front of his jeans.

But the physical attraction was only part of what drew him, what kept him skulking

in the darkness outside her bedroom. The hint of sadness glinting wetly on her dark

eyelashes when they’d met earlier on the road had done crazy things to the inside of his

chest. The pain-filled defiance in her gaze hadn’t deterred him one bit. If any man was

going to chase the shadows from her past, it’d be him. The loneliness he’d sensed in her

was echoed tenfold in his own heart.

Her low whimpered moan carried on the air between them, tightening his thighs

and balls, building a painful urgency he had to relieve. He flicked open the button at

the top of his jeans and eased out his rigid cock. He’d share this private act with her,

giving the ache a face—
hers
. Blue eyes the color of a clear Texas sky. Hair as pale and

soft as corn silk. Her face was etched on his mind, and now on his body.

With his hand closing around his shaft, he joined her, imagining sinking into the

moisture her fingers drew from her pussy.

Her thighs parted, her knees rising high and splaying wide as her hips undulated

on the mattress.

His hand glided up the rigid shaft, squeezing when he reached the end, then glided

back down. His hips pulsed in time with hers, driving his cock within his circled fingers

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Ride a Cowboy

until the friction became nearly unbearable. He dropped spit onto his palm and

resumed the rhythm, the moisture easing the movements. He imagined sinking to his

knees between her thighs and pressing into her. How hot and tight she’d be, clenching

around his cock like a wet fist, like his was doing now.

Her fingers pulled out partway and swirled faster. She must be getting close. Her

little clit ached for direct stimulation. Someday soon, he’d purse his lips around it,

flutter his tongue on the hard little knot, then suck on it until she came, screaming his

name.

Her cry was wispy, restrained, but was enough to push him over the edge, and he

spilled cum into the dirt at his feet, jerking his cock those last, desperate strokes.

Tomorrow, he’d give her a proper introduction. And learn the name of the woman

he planned to make his own.

* * * * *

The next morning sunlight streamed into her bedroom through the bare window.

The air was stifling hot, and she lay drenched in sweat, her hair clinging to her face in

sticky clumps. She flipped back the covers.

An ominous rattle sounded from the floor, and she froze.

She didn’t need to be a native Texan to recognize that raspy rattle. Easing up to

stand in the middle of her mattress, she peered cautiously over the edge. A rattlesnake

lay on the floor next to her bed in a fat coil, its tail erect and quivering. Even if the snake

hadn’t paralyzed her with fear, he lay in a patch of sunlight between her and the

bedroom door—she wasn’t getting out of this predicament by herself.

She needed the cavalry, or at least the local sheriff’s department. Moving slowly,

she reached for her cell phone on the bedside table. Her heart nearly stopped when the

dry rattle grew louder and the snake’s head drew back with its mouth open and fangs

exposed.

Her hands shook as she punched 911.

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Delilah Devlin

“Wendall County Police, how may I help you?” a female voice chimed.

Relief nearly made her weak. “Um…this is Katelyn Carter,” she said, rushing to get

the words out. “I’m at 118 Amman Road. I’m new here and I have a problem.” Her

voice trembled with fear as she explained her dilemma to the dispatcher. “Can

rattlesnakes climb?”

“We’ll send a unit right over, ma’am. You sit tight, now. I don’t think that snake’s

gonna do any climbin’.”

“Wait!” For the first time Katelyn realized she stood in the middle of her bed,

wearing only a tiny pair of bikini briefs and a thin white camisole that was transparent

due to her own perspiration. Embarrassment warred with her fear.

“Yes, ma’am?” The dispatcher interrupted her thoughts.

“Uh…I’m not dressed. Can you send a female officer?”

The woman on the other end of the line chuckled. “Ma’am, we don’t have any

female officers, but I’ll make sure only one fella comes in. You just stay right where you

are.”

As she powered off her cell phone, Katelyn could already hear sirens in the distance

and wondered irritably whether the whole Wendall county police force was responding

to the call. It wasn’t long before booted footsteps made their way through her house.

One of the officers called out to her, “Miz Carter, you in there?”

Despite her fear, Katelyn cringed inside. The house was a mess—littered with

cleaning supplies, wadded packing paper and half-emptied boxes. Worse, total

strangers were about to see a whole lot more of her than anyone but her husband ever

had. She inched her hand down to pull up the sheet to cover herself, but halted when

the snake grew agitated by her slight movement and began to writhe in a tight circle

around itself.

Wilting with embarrassment, she replied, “I’m in here.”

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Ride a Cowboy

A broad, amused face peered around the corner of her bedroom door. The officer’s

gaze widened slightly as it paused on her before seeking out her intruder on the floor.

He whistled when he spotted the snake. “It’s a big’un all right. We won’t come in just

yet, ma’am. I can tell that rattler’s gettin’ annoyed. We’ve sent for a rattlesnake

wrangler to come pick up this bad boy.” He gave her a kind smile. “It’ll only be a few

minutes. You just hang tight—and don’t move, ya hear?”

Long moments passed while Katelyn counted the drops of sweat that slid down her

face and the brown and black diamonds that crisscrossed the snake’s back. She had just

begun to wonder what a “rattlesnake wrangler” was when she heard more voices from

the living room and heavy footsteps just outside her bedroom door.

“Ma’am, it’s Daniel Bodine.”

That voice!
Warm as whiskey, it poured over her. Katelyn nearly groaned.

“I’m coming in, now. Don’t you move a muscle.”

A moment later, the cowboy who’d figured in her dreams—hot and sexy dreams—

filled the doorway of her bedroom.

As nervous as she was, Katelyn couldn’t help but note his broad shoulders nearly

spanned the doorframe, and he had to duck to clear his hat beneath it. In one hand he

held a long pole with a hook at the end of it, in the other a white sack.

His gaze met hers briefly, and he nodded once in her direction. A flush of red tinted

his cheeks as he moved slowly into her bedroom, then all of his concentration focused

on the snake.

As he approached it, the whispery rattle grew louder and the snake’s attention

moved to him. When its head rose with fangs exposed, the man reacted in a blinding

whir of movement, pinning the snake’s head to the floor with the hook. Then the

cowboy placed the toe of his boot just below its head and tossed aside the pole.

Her heart pounded with fear as the snake whipped its body frantically about.

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Delilah Devlin

Daniel grabbed the snake just below the head, then straightened and held it up for a

moment, letting it relax its full length toward the floor. He whistled appreciatively.

“Whoa, he’s a big ‘un all right.” He dropped it into the white sack and pulled the

drawstring closed over it. Finally, he turned to her, his gaze flickering over her before

sliding politely away. “It’s okay, ma’am. You can come down off the bed now,” he said

softly.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice croaking like a bullfrog, “but I think I’ll wait until my

legs stop trembling before I attempt it.” She hated admitting her weakness and flushed,

feeling the heat color her cheeks and spread down her neck to her chest. She wanted to

raise her hands to hide her breasts, but knew it was a little late to save her modesty.

“Let me help you down.” He stepped toward the bed, his hand stretched out.

“N-No,” she said, suddenly breathless.
Don’t let him touch me.
After last night, she

already felt as though he’d touched her—intimately. She’d come, pretending his fingers

stroked her slick flesh.

“It’s okay. I swear I don’t bite,” he said, his voice softer, huskier. His hand closed

around hers, and he tugged gently.

Katelyn drew in a sharp breath at the heat of his touch and the calluses that

roughened his palms, and let him help her to the floor. When she stood beside him in

her underwear and bare feet, she ducked her head and pulled at the cotton camisole

that stuck to her skin, aware he could see the dark outline of her nipples through the

cloth.

Sure enough, his glance swept down her body and back up.

A warning flashed in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t help the slight catch of

her breath as his gaze paused on her breasts. But rather than the suggestive comment

she expected from the sassy cowboy of yesterday, he tightened his jaw and he looked

away.

The telltale sign of awareness and tension had a similar effect on her body and she

felt her nipples bead beneath her damp camisole.

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Ride a Cowboy

He cleared his throat and stepped away. “I’ll just put him in the truck and be on my

way,” he said, his voice now brusque. “I wouldn’t want him to scare you again.” With a

hot glance that said he hadn’t really been talking about the snake, he turned on his heels

and left the room.

She slumped against the bedpost and wondered what that had been all about and

why her heart still pumped madly…and not from fear or embarrassment. She blew out

a pent-up breath and moaned. Who the hell was she kidding? The look on his face had

held a promise. One she was dying to know.

Katelyn girl, you’re in trouble now!

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Delilah Devlin

Chapter Two

Daniel swore and slung the sack into the bed of the pickup truck. For the second

time in as many days he’d managed to act like a teenage boy in first lust in front of the

prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

Dwight Emerson strode up beside him just as he reached for the door to the cab.

“Mmm…mmm! Now, if that ain’t the way to start a morning off. That there’s one pretty

filly.”

Knowing Dwight had just gotten an eyeful of the woman he’d already decided

would be his own, Daniel chose to ignore his friend. It was that or plant his fist in

Dwight’s grinning face. And he certainly didn’t feel like discussing the sexy woman and

her sweet assets with anyone. Especially a yahoo like the sheriff.

Daniel just wanted to get away and let the tension dissipate that had gripped his

body the moment he’d laid his eyes on her wearing less than his heart could take—and

a whole lot more than she’d worn last night when she’d stripped in the darkness. A

deep shame still burned through him for his actions of the previous night.

He’d spied on her like a horny twelve-year-old boy.

“Yup, my eyes just about fell outta my head when I spotted Miz Carter standin’ in