Rogue Cowboy (12 page)

“Me either,” I say a little breathlessly.

His body pushes into mine as he kisses me again, deeply, but quickly.  Then, he straightens my skirt and takes my hand before leading us back to the others.

All night I haven’t been able to sleep. 

When Dory had had enough, Zeke and I took her home and got her settled in before Zeke drove us to his unit. 

Once inside, Zeke tore my clothes off me and carried me into the bathroom where he fucked me hard and fast up against the shower wall.  Then, we washed each other, got out, dried each other and fell into bed where he fucked me slow and deep.

I’ve had four orgasms including the one I had at Laura and Luke’s.  I should be wiped.  But instead, I’m lying here in Zeke’s bed, listening to him snore softly beside me, and I’m going over and over what the girls were saying tonight.

There’s a small flurry of hope, burning low in my gut, at the possibility of things progressing with Zeke.  But, then there’s the part of me that is scared and cautious, given my past.  I wonder if that part of my heart will always be hardened with fear.  I wonder if I’ll let it control me or have input into my life forever.  I know I should try and let it go, after all, Jake doesn’t deserve the right to have any part of determining my future.  But, once bitten, twice shy…

I finally fall asleep in the wee hours of the morning, and when I do, I toss and turn in the most fitful sleep I’ve had since I can’t remember when.  Not even having Zeke wrapped around me is doing anything to settle my restless soul.

***

When I wake, the sun is high and streaming straight through the window.  My body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat and the air around me is hot and sticky.  I sit up and squint outside.  There are storm clouds brewing in the distance and I hope they bring some rain to cool things down a little.

Plodding out into Zeke’s kitchen, I see he’s nowhere to be found. 
Maybe he’s working out?
  I flick on the kettle and that’s when I see the note on the bench.   Zeke’s scratchy handwriting informs me he’s at the pub.

I drink my coffee, shower, throw on a summer dress and decide to walk down to The Cow and Calf.  I stop off at the Coffee House for a ham and cheese croissant on my way.  I’m not sure if Zeke has eaten, so I grab him one, too – and a bottle of Coke – just in case.  Ava’s mum serves me and I have a quick chat with her.  She tells me Ava, Jeremy and Oscar left this morning for Western Australia.  I make a mental note to send Ava a text later to check how they are going.

The smell of fresh paint leads me to my office.  I take one step inside and stop dead in my tracks.

Zeke is standing in the corner of the room, a paint roller in his hand, as he glides it up and down the wall with precision. 

A pair of sweats hangs off his hips.  His top half is bare.  Beads of sweat drip down between his shoulder blades and I follow them as they roll all the way to the waistband of his pants until the fabric absorbs them.

I’m mesmerized.  I can’t move.  My mouth turns dry and I wet my lips with my tongue, which is the exact moment he turns around and sees me standing there. 

I think my ovaries just exploded.

His skin glistens, and his tattoos beg to be licked.

“Are you gonna stand there and look at me all day?  Or, are you gonna come over here and kiss your man?”

I am
so
doing more than kissing him.

I launch myself at him.  My assault is visceral.  I’m not thinking; I’m only feeling.  My legs wrap around his hips and my mouth comes down on his.  I’m in complete control and he lets me have it.  My tongue slides inside his mouth and my hands hold his head steady, my fingers threading into his short hair.  Clutching him to me.

He moans against my mouth.  His erection presses into my stomach.  My panties flood with heat and I rock my pelvis against his, craving his touch, longing for the fulfilment only he gives me.

“Zeke,” I whimper.  “Please.”

He doesn’t let me catch my breath before he turns and slams me into the wall.  He rips his mouth away from mine only to tear my dress off over my head.  My bra and panties disappear in a blink and suddenly I’m naked before him.  My skin hot, my nipples hard and my sex swollen and throbbing.  My back is sticky from wet paint but I don’t give a fuck.  I want him.  Here.  Now.

“My cock’s so hard for you baby.  You want it?”

“Yes.  God, yes.  Please, fuck me.”

He tugs his sweats down and his cock springs free.  Red, angry and pulsing with desire.

“Get down on your hands and knees,” he orders.

I don’t think, I just do.  I drop down and stick my arse in the air towards him.  He nestles himself between my legs and then his tongue swipes through my folds.  I cry out, pushing myself back into him as he sucks my clit into his mouth and eats me like his life depends on it.  His fingers dig into my flesh, trapping me against the torturous assault his mouth is bringing me.

It’s too much.

I can’t get enough.

Crying out, I come over his face, my sex convulsing as he laps me up, growling like a starved man.  He rears up behind me and tugs my long, black hair from its band.  It tumbles free, falling over my shoulders.  He sweeps it up in his hand and rumbles, “I’ve been dreamin’ of doin’ this since the first time I saw you.”

“What?” I pant.

“This.”  He twists my hair around his wrist and pulls back.  My head goes back and my spine bows, tilting my arse up further to him.  He lines his cock up and slams inside in one fluid motion.  I cry out, my sex stretching at the delicious invasion he brings.

“Oh, Zeke!
Yes!”
I cry out, pushing myself back into him. 

His palm slaps down on my bare bottom and I clench around him.  My sex coats his cock with arousal and he growls. 

“Feel good, baby?  Do you like that?” He slaps me again. 

“Yes.  Fuck me harder.  Fuck me,” I shout.

“Fuck yeah, baby.  I’ll fuck you.  You like it hard and fast, Sienna?  You like my cock pounding into you?  My hand turning your arse pink?  You like it dirty, baby?”

“Yes,” I mewl. “I love it.”

“Tell me what you love?” he demands.  His balls slap against my swollen clit.  The sound of his body hitting mine echoes around the room.  The heady scent of sex fills my nostrils.  And, I give him what he wants.

“I love your cock.  God, it hits me so deep.  I love when you fuck me hard, just like this.  I love when you spank me.”

“You been a naughty girl, Sienna?” He spanks me again, this time on the other cheek.  “You know I owe you a lot of spanks, and I fuckin’ love that you love my hand on your arse.”  Another spank.  I clench hard around him.

“I’m gonna come,” I cry out.

“No, you’re not.  Not until I say.”  He tugs my hair back and I arch up into him.  Taking one of my nipples into his hand, he twists gently as he nibbles and sucks on my neck.

“Zeke,” I pant urgently, franticly.  “I can’t hold it.”  I drop down onto my hands and my body screams to let go.

“Not yet,” he growls, fucking me harder.  His hand comes down again and I feel the first ripple of my orgasm flood my system.  His thrusts become frantic.  His cock hits me deep, rubbing against the tender bundle of nerves inside me each time he slams home.

His hand reaches around and he gives my clit a hard flick with his finger and barks in my ear.  “Now!  Come Sienna.  Come all over my cock.  Show me how much you want me, baby.”

I come.  Oh, god, do I come.  I come so hard I see stars.

“Zeke.”  His name is a drawn out plea as waves and waves of convulsions roll over his cock, milking him.  I feel him throb deep inside me and then spurts of warmth fill my insides as his orgasm overcomes him.

He grunts my name and collapses onto me, catching most of his weight on his elbow.

I roll to my side and snuggle into his arm, catching my breath.

How is it possible that it feels like I’ve been waiting my entire life just for this moment?  Just to be right here in his arms.  Where I was always meant to be.

The pub is filling up.  It’s the third day we’ve been open since Jake’s attack.  The pub has been busier than ever and I’m so grateful for the town’s support. 

Yesterday, Genevieve came home from hospital.  She had a gash on the side of her head that required stitches.  It was sustained when Jake hit her from behind.  She fell forward, smacking her head on the side of the bar, rendering her unconscious.  Thankfully, she didn’t have any bleeding or inflammation on her brain, which is what the doctors were monitoring her so closely for.

Now, she’s home and she’s already rung me asking when she can come back to work.  According to the doctors, she has to have two weeks off.  Joanna offered to step in and do Genevieve’s cleaning job if Sadee was happy to pick up her extra shifts.  So, it all worked out well in the end.  I’m just glad that both Skip and Genevieve are okay.

“If he hadn’t come up from behind, I would have knocked him on his arse,” Genevieve told me.  “A man is a pussy if he can’t come at a woman from the front.”

It’s mid-afternoon, Zeke’s at work at Premier Ink and I’m waiting for Sadee to show up for her shift in half an hour, then I’m heading back to my place to cook a nice meal for Zeke and I.  He was so good, letting me stay at his place the last few nights, I thought cooking for him would be a good way to pay him back. 

We stayed at my cabin last night and this morning before I came to open the pub, I put a lamb roast in the slow cooker.  All I need to do is prep the vegetables and warm the bread rolls.

At the end of the bar, a group of the most annoying girls are sitting, drinking and laughing, carrying on talking bullshit.  One of them says ‘like’ every second word.  Her voice sounds like a strangled cat and she’s really getting on my nerves.  But, I have to suck it up, since it’s my job.  Dammit.

“Did I show you my new tattoo?” I overhear her say.

“No!  Show us,” another girl screeches.

I can’t help myself.  I watch.  She stands, lifts her shirt and pulls her jeans down to reveal a giant butterfly tramp stamp.  There are stars all around it, and while the work is good, the actual tattoo is not my taste.

“Zeke did it,” she coos.  My ears instantly prick at the mention of his name.  Unconsciously, my feet make their way closer so I can listen in.

“When?” a girl asks, enraptured.

“Last week.  God, he’s just the sweetest.  After he finished my tatt, he, like, gave me the deepest, sweetest kiss.  I could tell he wanted to, like, take it further, but he was at work, so we couldn’t,” she pouts.

My blood begins to boil.

“Seriously?  He’s so freaking gorgeous,” the other girl gushes.

“I know,” tattoo girl swoons.  “I can’t wait until we can, like, come out and tell everyone we’re together.”  She clutches her heart and grins dreamily.

I want to smack her in the face.  I clench my teeth to restrain myself from saying something I’ll regret, and instead, stuff the glasses into the dishwasher with a little more force than necessary.

“So, when do you see him again?”

“I saw him today.” She squeals like a little schoolgirl and her minions follow suit.  “He’ll probably come by my house tomorrow, or like, if not, I’ll go see him at work.  Maybe he’ll get me up on the table again.”  She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

Again?

Fucking bitch.

Fucking
bastard!
  He
kissed
her.  Last fucking week?!  What the fuck!

He kissed her
today?!

I want to scream.

Arsehole.

I don’t realise how tightly I’m clenching the glass in my hand until my fingers start to cramp.

“Everything okay, Sienna?” Sadee asks, startling me.

“Sure,” I grit out.

“Okay,” she says, drawing the word out.  “Are you positive?”

“Yes.”  I sit the glass down and turn to give her a fake smile.  “I have to go.  Are you right here?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Good.  If you need anything, give me a call.”

“No problems,” she replies, giving me a confused look.

My blood is boiling.  I’m so angry – with Zeke, with
myself
.  With that annoying little flaky bitch from the pub.  Who was she anyway?  Is that the kind of girl he wants to be with?  A whiny, annoying, shallow woman?  Then what the hell is doing with me?  Has this all been a game to him?

As soon as that thought flows through my mind, I dismiss it.  It couldn’t have been a game to him. It couldn’t have been.  He was so genuine.  So sincere.  He’d been trying to get my attention for two years.  These last few months where we’ve been dating have been amazing.  He’s been attentive, and present.  Never once had I thought I didn’t have his full, enraptured attention when we were together.

But what about when we weren’t together?  Is that when he was with her?

I grab a bottle of wine out of my fridge, pop the cork, and like the lady I am (not!) I swig it straight from the bottle.

Don’t judge me!  I’m stressed.  I’m angry.  I’m
hurt.

That’s when it hits me.  The realisation slams into my chest with the power of a freight train, hitting me so hard I stumble back a step.

We’re not
exclusive
.

We never had ‘the talk’.  Never once did either of us discuss being in an exclusive relationship.  We are just casually dating, so he has every right to date whoever he wants, whenever he wants.

I guess I had hoped what Ava, Laura, Edie and Jules were saying the other night would be true.  Deep down, I wanted Zeke to feel that way about me.  To claim me.  But, he hasn’t.  The girls said their men moved fast, with lightning speed.  So fast their heads spun and before they knew it they were engaged to be married.

But, maybe Zeke is different.  Maybe he moves slowly.  Maybe he never wants to settle down.

Or, maybe it’s just me he doesn’t want to settle down with.

I’m so stupid.  A stray tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away angrily with the back of my hand.

Calming down, I take a glass and pour myself some wine.  Then I sit down and try to do my best at accepting the reality of casual dating.

At twenty minutes past six, Zeke raps lightly on my door.  Plastering on the fakest smile I can muster, I swing open my door.

“Hey, thanks for coming.”

“Hey, babe.  Smells delicious in here.”  He walks in, coming to stand right in front of me.  Leaning down, he kisses me gently.  I return it, of course I do.  I can’t help myself.  His arms go around me and he holds me close.  My head is against his chest, his heart beats steadily under my ear.  His chin rests on my head and he says, “Missed you today, Sienna.”

I missed you, too…until about an hour ago.

“We weren’t apart that long.”  I laugh, sliding out of his hold.  “Do you want a beer?  Dinner won’t be long.”

“Sounds good.  How was the pub today?”

“Great.  It was getting busy as I left.  Skip called in at lunch time and said Rhonda has been spoiling him since the Jake thing.” I smile.  Skip has definitely been lapping up the attention.

We continue on with small talk as I dish the vegetables up and Zeke slices the meat.  Once our plates are full, we sit at my small, rustic, wooden table and eat.

I feel awkward.  I’m not sure if I  should bring it up or not.  I mean, do people openly discuss that sort of thing in casual relationships?  I’ve never been in one before, so I have no idea.  Either way, I’d rather not hear about him being with anyone else, so I decide to stay quiet and finish my meal.

“This is delicious, babe.”  At Zeke’s words, I chance a glance at him.  He’s almost finished, where I’ve been toying with mine and still have over half to go.  He’s right though; it is delicious.  I’ve just got so much running through my mind it’s hard to concentrate on satisfying my appetite.

As I’m looking across the table at him, I see a brown mark on the collar of his shirt. 
What is that?
  Is that foundation? I think it is!

Oh.

My.

God!

I feel sick.  Beneath his ear is a pinkish reddish stain as well.  Lipstick!

“I saw him today.”

She saw him today.  And, then he rocks up at my house with foundation and lipstick stains on him.

I scrape my chair backwards quickly, startling him.  I don’t care.  I need air.

Rushing outside, I walk to a secluded spot behind my cabin and lean against the wall, trying to fill my constricting lungs with air.

I can’t do this.  Casual dating is not for me.  I thought I could do it.  I was wrong.  I can’t.  It’s just not who I am.

“Sienna,” I hear him calling.

I don’t answer.  I just need a minute.  Just a moment to collect myself.

“Sienna.  Here you are.  What’s wrong, darlin’?  You feel crook?”

“Just needed some air,” I wheeze.  “I’m fine.”

“You sure?  You look a little pale.”  His concerned tone hurts my heart.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I say, trying to shake off the disappointment I’m feeling.

I fell too hard, too fast.

It’s my own fault.

I shouldn’t have allowed myself to hope.

“Come back inside, babe.  I’ll get you some water.”

Once inside, I decide to just bite the bullet and spit it out.  There’s no use dancing around the issue.  I just need to sit him down and tell him where I stand.  This was fun while it lasted, but it’s better if we break it off now and just be friends.

He sits down on the couch next to me and I take a deep breath.  I can do this.  Turning to face him, I’m struck into silence by the predatory look on his face.  He knows something is up. 
He knows it
.  I must be so easy to read.

Regardless, I launch forward.  Straight into it, like ripping a Band-Aid off.

“I don’t think this is going to work out.”  It’s like projectile vomit.  It just comes flying right out.  No leading into it, just wham. 

His eyes go wide and then they narrow, angrily.

“What?” he grinds out, his voice as hard as steel.

“Look, Zeke,” I say, standing.  “I can’t do it, okay.  I thought I could, but it’s just not me.  I’m not that kind of girl.  You know, I thought you would have known that, but obviously you didn’t…or maybe you did, you just wanted to see if you could change me, or be the exception to the rule.  Whatever.  The end result is the same.  I can’t do this.  We can still be friends, of course – it’s a small town.”  I’m rambling.  Uncontrollable, nervous babbling.  Finally, I manage to clamp my mouth shut.

He stands, towering over me.  The energy radiating off him is fucking angry and I shrink back a little.

“No,” he snaps.  “You don’t fucking back away from me.  I would never hurt you, Sienna.  So stand up to me and tell me what the
fuck
you’re on about.  Because, woman, I haven’t got a fucking clue.”  Fire lights his blue eyes, his jaw is hard and his nostrils flare.

Why can’t he just let me go?

Why is he making a big deal out of this?

“I mean exactly what I said.  I didn’t stutter,” I fire back.  How fucking
dare
he!  “It’s over. I can’t do this.” I wave my hand between us.  “This isn’t who I am.”

“It isn’t who you are?  What the fuck does that mean, Sienna?”

“I can’t do this casual fucking shit,” I shriek.  “I’m not that girl.  I’m sorry, Zeke, if you thought I was.  But, you thought wrong.”

“Casual shit?” he seethes.  He storms towards me, grabbing my hands and backing me against the wall before pinning my hands above my head, held together by one of his.

“Casual shit?” he repeats, his tone challenging.

“Yes,” I whisper, my voice momentarily deserting me.  “Now, get the fuck off me,” I shout.

“No,” he yells back.  “Not until you fucking explain
casual shit
to me.”

“It’s not hard to understand, Zeke.  It’s two fucking words.  You’re a guy who obviously likes to have his cake and eat it, too.  Well, I’m not
that
girl.  I’m a one man woman who wants a one woman man.  It’s not fucking rocket science,” I snap.

He leans in closer, his breath coming in pants, blowing puffs of air over my skin.

“What the fuck makes you think I’m not that guy?”

“I’m not fucking stupid,” I yell into his face.

“Never said you were, but you’re fucking acting it right now.”

“Just. Leave,” I grit out.

“You know what, I fucking will.”  He drops my hands, spins around and stalks out of my cabin, slamming the front door hard on his way out, causing the windows to rattle.

I sink to my knees and a few tears escape.  I quickly wipe them away.  I won’t cry.

I won’t.

I stand up and clear the dishes into the sink, rinsing them as I go.