Rogue Cowboy (13 page)

As I watch the water flow down the plughole, I can’t help but wonder why my hurt isn’t flowing away just as easily.

I watch unseeing as the broom moves across the floor.  He’s been gone over an hour and I need to keep distracting myself so I won’t chase after him and tell him I’ll try to be that girl.

But, I won’t.

Because I’m
not
that girl.

My front door opening and slamming shut has me jumping and spinning around.

Zeke stands there.  His hands down by his sides curled in angry fists.  Fury pours out of him as he pins me to the spot with his blazing gaze.

“I am not fucking giving up on us,” he states.

“Zeke.”  I fight against my body’s natural urge to run into his arms.  “Please don’t do this.  It won’t work.”

“You’re going to explain to me exactly what you think is going on here.  And, then I’m going to tell you what is
actually
happening.”

“Please don’t.”

“Explain,” he demands.  The way he says that one word has me doing exactly what he asked.

“I can’t do casual.  I can’t go to work every day not knowing whether one of your other girlfriends will be sitting at my bar talking about the two of you.  I can’t do it.  It fucking hurts.  It hurts much more than I expected it to.”  I whisper the last part.

“Now, explain that further. 
What
other girlfriends?”

“I don’t know her name,” I cry out in frustration.  Why doesn’t he get it?

“What did she say?”

“Does it matter?” I spit.

“What did she
say
?”  He leans forward, and even though he’s across the room, I feel his energy from where I stand.

“That you’re a good kisser.  That she saw you today.  That you did her tattoo and she hopes you bend her over the table.  That you’re seeing her tomorrow.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”  I laugh without humour.

“What did she look like?” he barks.

“Fake,” I start.

“Heather,” he interrupts.

I keep going as if he hasn’t spoken. “Blonde hair, nice body, voice like nails on a chalkboard, and a giant space butterfly tattoo, courtesy of
you
.”

“Fucking Heather,” he snarls.

“Look, her name doesn’t matter.  All that matters—”

He cuts me off with a growl, like a feral animal.  “It does fucking matter.  It matters that you
believe
me.  It matters that you
trust
me.  It matters that you
believe
and
trust
in
us.
  Don’t tell me it doesn’t matter, when it all fucking matters.”

Holy shit.  He’s angrier than what I thought.

I start to wonder
why
he’s so angry.  If we were just ‘casually dating’, would he be this angry?

Oh no
.  I think I’ve got it all wrong.

Oh no.

“Heather,” he snarls her name, “is a fucking client who came in for a tattoo last week.  Yes, she tried to kiss me.  I pushed her off and told her to fuck off and never come back.  That was the first and last time I’ve had anything to do with her.”

“You didn’t see her today?” I ask, wondering if he’ll lie or not.  He’s got makeup on his collar after all. 

It might not be from Heather.  Maybe there’s someone else.

“Fuck no.”

“Right,” I say sarcastically, but the hurt of betrayal lingers in my tone.

“Are you accusing me of lying,” he all but whispers, equally horrified as he is furious.

“Aren’t you?” I snap.  “If you didn’t see her, then it must have been someone else.  Otherwise, how else would you explain the lipstick smudge on your cheek, and the foundation on your collar?” I challenge.

He rips his shirt off over his head, exposing the tanned, taut muscles below.  Examining his collar, he looks to me and fires, “That what you’re talking about?”

“Yes.”  I fold my arms across my chest and cock my hip, knowing I’ve got him.  I’ve sprung him.

He laughs.

He
actually
fucking laughs.  Goddamned prick.

“
That
is makeup from when your
aunty
kissed me today, to thank me for doing some yard work for her.  I can’t see it, but I suspect the lipstick would be from her, too, seeing as she’s the only female who’s touched me today besides
you.”

“Oh.” My mouth makes the motion but I’m not sure if any sound comes out.

“Yeah,
oh
,” he says, his tone full of disdain.

“You did yard work for Dory?”

He nods sharply.

“She was wearing makeup?” My brow knits in confusion.

“Rhonda came by, gave her a makeover to cheer her up,” he explains.

“That was really nice of her,” I say softly.

Shit, I feel like an arsehole.

He stands across from me, hands down by his sides.  His shirt hanging loosely from his fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.  Two words containing so much emotion, I can’t begin to explain.  His pectoral muscles jump and my eyes are drawn to them.  I swallow hard, waiting for him to say something.

Anything
.

“Come here.”  He finally speaks, but his tone holds no clue as to what he’ll say when I reach him.

Slowly, my feet take me the few feet across the room until I’m standing in front of him, waiting with baited breath to hear what he has to say.

My chest gets tight, but I try to keep my features impassive.

“Yes?”

He waits a beat, keeping me in suspense.  His eyes are less angry than earlier, his jaw less tight.

“Believe in us, Sienna.  This is not casual.  This is not dating.  You’re mine.  Do you understand?  There is no one else.  You’re mine, and I’m yours.  So, believe in us.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.”  Tears fill my eyes, threatening to spill over.  He tugs me into his arms and I slam into his warm, hard chest.

“Enough.  No more apologising.”  His lips come down on mine and then we’re kissing for all we’re worth.  Ravenous.  Full of hunger and need.

He lifts me up, his hands cupping my arse, and then he walks us into my bedroom, tossing me down on the bed and spreading my legs wide.  I whip my shirt over my head as he tugs my jeans down my legs.  I unclasp my bra and fling it across the room as he drags my panties off.

He pushes my legs apart again and then his mouth is there.  Licking, sucking, nibbling,
feasting.
  Oh god, it’s so good.  Before I can even feel my orgasm approaching, my entire body lets go and I come shamefully fast.  He doesn’t stop though.  No, he keeps on licking and sucking me as I squirm on the bed, thrashing about, trying to get him away from my sensitive clit.

“Zeke, stop, please,” I cry out.  “It’s too much.” 
Oh, but not enough
.

“Come again,” he growls against my tender flesh.  My body co-operates and I come again.  Shudders wrack my body as I ride the wave of euphoria he brings me.

Then he’s up and over me, sliding inside, but not deep and hard like I expected.  No, he draws it out, giving me half of his cock before withdrawing, only to slide in again, giving me a little more each time.

My body is screaming for him.  Every nerve ending is alive and tingling, desperately craving his touch.

His mouth goes to my nipple and he sucks.  My fingers scrape up his back, loving the feel of the definition under his skin.

“Harder, baby.  Fuck me,” I beg.

“No.  Slow,” he rasps.  Then he fucks me slow. 

Gentle. 

Raw. 

Purely beautiful.

“Hey, Sienna.”

I look up from where I’m pouring a beer to find my employee smiling at me as she turns up for her shift.  Her short brown hair is spiked up at the back and flattened at the front.  Her light makeup is cleverly done, accentuating her hazel eyes and she’s wearing a black polo embroidered with The Cow and Calf logo, paired with a pair of dark blue skinny jeans that she’s rocking so well you’d never guess she’s had a child.  

She looks great, as usual. 

“Hey, Jo.  It’s been crazy busy today.”

“Has it?” 

I nod.  “Yep.  A bunch of guys came in from a muster at around lunchtime.  There would have been about twenty of them.  They not long left.”

“Wow.  You should have given me a call. I would have come in early and helped.”

“Oh, it was fine. Sadee called in and ended up helping me out for a couple of hours.”

My feet are killing me and I’m so glad my shift will soon be over.  I’ve been here since early this morning, because it was Genevieve’s first day back since having her two weeks off to recover.  I wanted to keep a close eye on her, even though she constantly reamed me out for hovering over her.

“How was Gen’s first day back?  I hope it went well.”

“It did.  I fussed over her, she got cranky and yelled at me…you know, the standard,” I laugh.

Jo laughs and comes up beside me.  “I’ll take care of this.  You go and relax.  Have you got anything planned for tonight?”

“I do actually.  Zeke’s taking me away this afternoon.  Not sure where we’re going, but I’m excited.”

“Well, have fun.  The pub’s in safe hands.”

“I know.  Don’t forget to lock up.”

“I won’t,” she sings.  “Bye, boss.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”  She pokes her tongue out at me as I leave.

I’m excited about tonight.  Zeke just told me to be ready by six, because he’s coming by after work to pick me up.  He said to pack a backpack with a change of clothes, but that’s it.

In the last fortnight, we’ve spent as much time as we can together.  Some nights he stays at mine, but mostly we stay at his place; his television is bigger, his lounge is comfier and his bed is like sleeping on a cloud.

After packing my clothes and a few toiletries, I sit out the front on my verandah waiting for him to arrive and take me to wherever he’s planned.

***

“Have fun, you two.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”  Jackson winks and grins mischievously.

Cheeky bugger.

“Thanks, bro.  See you in a few hours,” Zeke says, closing the door of the chopper.

Jackson salutes us and the rotors whir to life again as he takes off.

When Zeke arrived, promptly at six, we hopped on his bike and rode out to the Henley farm.  It wasn’t until we pulled up at the hangars, that Zeke told me Jackson was taking us up in the helicopter.  I’ve never been in one before, so I was really excited, and nervous. 

After flying over some of the most breathtakingly beautiful scenery, Jackson landed the chopper and here we are – on top of the world, or so it feels like.

“What did you and the tribe do all day?”

“Once a month, we’d walk for days, sometimes a week, to meet other tribes for a corroboree.  Times we were back at camp, we’d spend our days hunting for food to feed the women and the kids.  Nights were spent sharing dreamtime stories around the campfire.”

For some reason, tears prick my eyes.  Sitting here, atop Jabiru, one of the biggest and most beautiful waterfalls in the Northern Territory as the night turns dark, I feel closer to the Aboriginal spirit than I expected.  It’s cloaking me, surrounding me, engaging my soul.

“Wow,” I say in awe.  “That sounds beautiful.  What’s a corroboree?”

“Kind of like a meeting for the men.  We paint ourselves, dress in special costumes and sing and dance around the campfire.  Telling stories through music and moves, pretty much.” 

“It just sounds so…peaceful,” I say through a contented sigh.

“It is,” he agrees.  “They live a peaceful life, only taking from the land what they need.  There’s nothing greedy about them or the way they live.  It was refreshing, and exactly what I needed.”

“What you needed?”

“I was on a one-way ticket to jail, babe.  Had I stuck around after Mum died, I’d be in the big house now, I imagine.”

“Are you a criminal?” I ask, my throat instantly constricting as Jake’s face flashes into my mind.  I quickly push the image away, determined to never let him have a second of my thoughts again.

“Fuck no.  I just mean, I was pissed off at the world for taking my mum when I needed her.  She had her whole life to live.  Me and Luke were growing up and she’d finally be able to have time to do shit for herself, things she wanted to do.  Then, she couldn’t, because she was dead.  It was taken away from her, she was taken away from us, and I was fucking angry about it for a long time.  If I didn’t leave, I would have used that energy in a negative way.  Living with the tribe, though, I learned to use it in a positive way.  Find inner peace.  Took me a long time to get there, but I did it eventually.”

I let out my breath slowly, the tightness in my throat easing. 

“She sounds like she was a good mum.  Like she always put you boys first.”

“She did,” he confirms with a nod.  “We only ever had her, and only ever had us.  It was the way we wanted it.  What about you?  Your parents?”

“They’re in Melbourne still.  That’s where I’m from originally – born and bred.  We don’t really get along.  My dad’s always right, even when he’s not.  And my mum stands by her man,” I say adding a humourless laugh.

“Sucks, babe.”

“Yeah,” I agree solemnly.  Do you come up here often?” My question is genuine, but I realise the corniness of the age-old pick up line, so I add a grin and wink with it. 

His eyes crinkle and he gives me a sexy little girn.  “Yeah, when I get the chance, which is often but not often enough.”

“I could live up here,” I sigh, and lie back on the picnic rug.  “It’s just so beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his tone all husky.  My stomach instantly clenches and my eyes flutter shut just before I see him loom over me.  I know what’s coming and I wait, anticipation swimming in my veins, for his lips to touch mine.

The rough stubble on his chin touches me first and my lips part automatically, welcoming his tongue as it sweeps through my mouth.  And, there, as the sun sets in the distance and water gushes over the side of the cliff, Zeke makes love to me in the sweetest, most beautiful, most
loving
way.

As the final shudders of my orgasm leave my body, he looks down at me with a tenderness in his eyes that I’ve become accustomed to over the last few months we’ve been together.

“You’re so beautiful, Sienna,” he tells me.  “You’re mine.  All mine.”

“And, you’re mine,” I reply, cupping his jaw and peppering sweet kisses through the stubble.

“I love you,” he whispers.

My heart sings.  He loves me!  He fucking loves me! I want to shout it from the rooftops.  But, I don’t.  Instead, I bring his lips down to mine and kiss him passionately. 

“I love you, Zeke.”