Rough Rider (8 page)

He sprang free into her hand.

He shut his eyes and began slowly counting, tamping down the urge to thrust himself into her mouth. Much like working a skittish colt, he had to let her figure it out for herself. It wasn't long…maybe only twenty seconds or so before he felt the first smooth brush of her lips over the head of his prick. She followed with the first velvety swipe of her tongue that sent a ripple of sensation deep into his balls. “Jesus. That's good, Red. Just like that.”

She responded to his encouragement with longer licks over the head of his glans, and then down his shaft. Coming back up again with wicked little flicks and darts of her tongue, then slowly circling the corona. She was a quick study, his shy little Janice. He palmed her head with a moan. “You're killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Take me in,” he urged. “I need to feel your lips wrapped around me.” He thought he'd lose his mind if she didn't do it soon.

She opened her mouth and shut her eyes, using one hand to guide him over her velvety tongue and into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. His head reeled with sensation. He tangled both hands in her hair with a guttural sound, fighting back the urge to thrust. Instead, he gently rocked his hips. Taking his cue, she drew him further, deeper into her wet heat, then slowly released with a steady, mind-blowing suction. Her hands roamed over his abs and hips to rest on his buttocks, squeezing his ass as she worked him with her mouth.

“That's good, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Really good. Take me all the way.” He sychronized her movements with shallow thrusts and lost himself in deep, drugging pleasure.

* * *

Dirk's eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth slightly parted and his head thrown back. She was enthralled by the look of intense concentration on his face, the ragged rise and fall of his chest, his heavy breaths filling the air. She was almost dizzy with disbelief that she could affect him this way.

She'd heard plenty of talk about blow jobs, mostly filthy stuff from cowboys who'd either forgotten she was around, or maybe had just forgotten she was female. She'd known it was at the top of every guy's list, but the idea of some guy sticking his dick in her mouth had always seemed repulsive—until now.

She'd never considered how different it could be with someone she cared about. Rather than aversion, she was deeply aroused—more turned on than she'd ever been in her life. She loved the silky sensation of his hot flesh between her lips, the salty tang of him on her tongue, his hard ass flexing beneath her hands. She was becoming drunk on
his
pleasure. In this moment, she understood. This was about giving him the same kind of devastating, earthshaking pleasure he'd given her. He'd put his needs aside to rock her world and now she wanted to blow his off its axis.

She gently fondled his sac, felt it tighten beneath her touch, drawing up close to his body. She knew even before he spoke that he was closing in fast on the point of no return.

“You gotta stop now.” His jaw was clenched, his voice tight. “I'm about to blow like Old Faithful.”

He withdrew from her mouth with a guttural sound. Janice watched in dismay as he fisted himself to finish. She didn't want it to end like this. It felt too much like rejection. She'd already made the decision to give herself to him and ached to have him inside her. Body joined to body. Filling her.

She rested her hand on his. “Please, Dirk. Not like that. Can't we still…” She rose and backed up to the table and hoisted herself on top of it. It was too small to lie on…and shaky…and hard as hell under her ass, but Janice didn't care about any of that.

He gave it a dubious look. “I'd like nothing better than to oblige you, but I'm not too sure about that table.”

“Please. I want to feel you inside me. Just this once.”

“Hell, since you asked so sweet…” He grinned. “Gimme just a minute.” He turned away to root through their discarded heap of clothes for his jeans, fishing a foil packet out of his wallet. “Been there so long the damn thing's probably expired,” he mumbled, then tore it open with his teeth. He came back to her, nudging her knees apart and stepping between her thighs, his coarse hair abraded her skin. Her legs trembled uncontrollably.

“You seem a bit jittery there, Red.”

“Only a little,” she answered with a tremulous laugh.

His blue eyes met hers once more searching. “You having second thoughts? Do you really want this?” He gestured between them. “You…me?”

She bit her lip, but her gaze never wavered from his. “Yes,” she whispered back through swollen lips.

He held out the condom. “You wanna do the honors?”

“No.” She shook her head briskly. “You go ahead this time.”

This
time?
She'd spoken as if this was actually the beginning of something, when she knew deep down it wasn't. Not that it mattered. She didn't care if it was only once. Only tonight. In this moment it was warm. It was real. Dirk wanted her and she'd never wanted anyone else.

He gloved himself.

She propped back on her elbows, a position that allowed her to watch. And she wanted to watch. This was her rite of passage to full-fledged womanhood and she wanted to savor it with all of her senses.

He positioned himself between her legs and wrapped hers around his flanks. He probed her entrance. She tensed and inhaled a gasp, then bit her lips, hoping he hadn't noticed.

But he had.

He froze. Withdrawing far enough to meet her gaze, he voiced the dreaded question. “You haven't done this before?”

She had to look away. “Well, no. I told you I didn't have much experience.”

“Shit, Red! Not
much
experience? That statement was a tad misleading, don't you think? I expected you were green, but now you tell me you've never even been backed?”

“Nope. But it's OK,” she blurted. “I really want this. I'm twenty-one. Isn't it past time?”

He stepped back with a groan. “Look, Red. Age has nothing to do with it. If that's your motivation, we're doing this for all the wrong reasons.”

“No!” she protested. “That's not what I meant.”

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don't know what you want from me, but what
I
want is the truth. Why tonight? Why me?”

She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn't budge. It was indeed the moment of truth. “B-because I want
you
,” she whispered. “I wanted you the minute you showed your face at my door. Nope, scratch that. I've wanted you ever since the day I saw you on the high school rodeo team, only I was too young even to understand what it was I wanted. But now I do. Understand. And I'm not sixteen anymore.”

His brows came together and his mouth hardened. “I don't get it.
Why
me?”

“I don't know. You're just different from the others. I knew it would be better with you than with anyone else.”

He shook his head slowly. “I sure don't know what to make of that.”

“What about you?” she asked. “Why did you come here tonight? There must have been someone else you could have called.”

“I don't know,” he said. “It's been a shitty night. I was feelin' pretty low. I just started walkin' and then I found myself here… Maybe I was hoping I'd be welcome at your door.”

“Maybe you were right… So where does that leave us?”

“I don't know, Red. This is new territory.”

“Have you changed your mind because I don't know what I'm doing?” she asked.

“Hell, no. That's not it. It's just you and me. I didn't expect this.”

“Neither did I…but that doesn't mean I didn't hope for the right time…the right one.”

“And you think that's me?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know it is. I've
always
wanted it to be you. Now I've told you everything.” With her heart in her throat she gazed up into his face. His expression was harsh and unreadable. She swallowed hard and whispered, “Do you still want to? Want me?”

He stepped into her, murmuring only inches from her mouth, “If we just take this nice and slow, I think we'll figure it out.” Cupping her nape, he kissed her again. Long and deep, his tongue tangling with hers, sending ripples low into her belly. He withdrew from the kiss and brought his fingers to her lips. “Open. Get me wet.”

She sucked his fingers into her mouth. When she released him, he urged her legs farther apart and slid his hand up her thigh. “Shut your eyes,” he commanded.

She closed her lids on a shudder of pleasure, basking in the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and his wet fingers circling her entrance. He probed inside her. “That hurt?”

“No. It feels…good.” She shifted her hips, urging him deeper.

He added another finger and moved it inside, sliding in and out with ease. The hair of his thighs abraded her as he positioned himself once more between her thighs. “Open up. Wider.” He urged her legs apart. “Try to relax now. I promise I'll go slow.”

Janice willed her body to relax and her passage to open. Dirk hovered over her, his brows contracted, his face drawn taut as he penetrated her in a slow and steady push that simultaneously stretched and filled her.

The pressure continued, as he advanced inch by inch until he was seated with his sex pulsing, hot and hard, deep inside hers. There was a little discomfort but not the pain she'd expected. For long seconds, they remained perfectly still, the silence filled only with her own heartbeat.

“You OK?” Dirk asked at last. He wore a look of fierce concentration. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, and sweat beaded his brow.

She released the breath she'd been holding. “Yes.” She'd barely voiced her reply when he began moving inside her. “Sweet heaven,” she moaned. It was surreal. It was sublime. Her inner muscles clenched and contracted around him. She angled her hips to take him deeper.

He exhaled a hiss. “Sweetheart, if you do that again, I'm not gonna last thirty seconds.”

She grinned up at him. “But I thought cowboys only went for eight anyway.”

His body suddenly trembled, shaking the rickety table beneath her. It was a moment before she realized the tremors and low rumble was laughter. She joined in the tension-breaking burst of mirth until tears streamed both down their cheeks. They were still tightly joined when Dirk wiped a hand across his eyes.

“Maybe I can do better than that if I try real hard.”

“You think so?” she challenged.

“I think it'll all depend on how badly you wanna buck me off.”

“Maybe I don't wanna buck you off, cowboy.” Janice dug her heels into his flanks urging him deeper. When he moved again inside her, all humor died away, supplanted by sensations that stole her breath. “Please. Don't stop. I don't want this to end,” she whispered.

Ever
remained unspoken.

* * *

Janice never closed her eyes all night, too afraid to wake up and find him gone. Instead, she lay beside him on the mattress in the gooseneck, under the faint glow of her night-light, simply watching him sleep. She'd never had an opportunity to study him at such close quarters before, and, damn, if he wasn't worth the study—even bruised and busted up as he was. Her gaze shifted to his face, both manly and boyish with thick lashes casting shadows above his chiseled and bruised cheekbones. His mouth was slightly parted and he snored softly. His nose was probably broken, but she suspected that would only add to his appeal—not that he needed any help in that department. He was already devastating as far as she was concerned.

He'd flung the covers aside and lay sprawled on his back, arms outstretched, taking up most of the space on the mattress—not that she minded. Janice sidled up snugly against him, her shoulder set in the hollow of his shoulder, her head resting on his chest where she lay hypnotized by the slow and steady drumbeat of his heart. She'd never felt so warm, comfortable, and safe as she did with Dirk. He was everything she'd wanted—everything she'd dreamed of. He'd been patient and tender, making her first time a memory she'd cling to forever, and now she wondered if any other man would ever measure up.

It wasn't just a physical attraction, but what she'd seen on the inside too. Dirk was strong, self-assured, and confident in his own skin—a man who took life by the horns. He was also honest and forthright and caring to those he loved. She couldn't fathom how Rachel could have been so mistaken to think she could manipulate him. He wasn't the type to put up with those kinds of games. Maybe she'd succeeded for a while…and maybe he'd go back to her…for a while…but she'd never be able to keep him—not like that.

Yeah
right, Janice, you're quite an expert on men.

Nevertheless, her instincts had been right. Dirk had balked. She still marveled at the events that had brought him dripping wet to her door, but like the stroke of midnight for Cinderella, the rising sun meant the end of the magic—and the hours were ticking away.

This whole night seemed so unreal to her now. She'd given him her virginity without a second thought. Although she didn't have a clue what the morning would bring, she couldn't regret any of it. No, she wouldn't take it back for anything. Tomorrow he might belong to Rachel again, but she refused to dwell on that. For now he was all
hers
.

Dirk started awake to a blast of music. Bolting upright, he smacked his head on the thinly insulated trailer ceiling and then shut his eyes, cursing a blue streak. His head already felt like it was going to explode, and his body ached like he'd suffered the rack.

The music continued… “Cowboy take me away, fly this girl as high as you can, into the wild blue. Set me free, oh I pray, closer to heaven above and closer to you.”

“Cowboy Take Me Away”? The Dixie Chicks? He hated that song. Clutching his throbbing skull, he consigned the Dixie Chicks to a very special place in hell.

Once the pain subsided to a dull throb, he slowly cracked his lids open and looked around, disoriented and confused. Where the hell was he?

The throbbing increased again with the brief flashes he recalled of the night before.

The bull ride gone south. The party. Rachel's teary eyes. Grady singing karaoke. Getting kicked out. The storm. Janice.

Shit!
What the hell had he done? Had he and Janice really…as if on cue, she burst out of the bathroom to shut off her alarm. Her gaze met his and she froze, her teeth sinking deep into her lower lip.

The towel wrapped around her did little to cover all that creamy white flesh. She looked like a French pastry—good enough to eat. His dick twitched at the sight. Oh yeah. Last night was very real.

“Mornin', Red—” His gaze never left hers as he slid down from the gooseneck and grabbed his jeans and shirt. “I gotta get you some different CDs.”

“I got some Chris LeDoux if you prefer,” she said.

“About last night—” Their voices collided in a disharmonious duet.

He inclined his head. “Ladies first.”

“I'm surprised you're here,” she ventured shyly.

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just thought you'd probably be gone.”

That supposition definitely didn't set right with him. “Is that what you wanted?”

“No! That's not what I meant. I just thought—”

He scowled. “That I'd slink off without even buying you breakfast?”

“You don't need to feel obligated to me.”

His mouth compressed. “Whadaya mean, Red?”

“I just want you to know I don't expect anything,” she said. “Sometimes things just happen. I'm not naive about that. I know last night doesn't
mean
anything.”

“Sure it does. It
means
I was right about men and women being friends.”

“Maybe you were,” she confessed. “But we can at least try, can't we? Please, Dirk. I don't want things to be awkward between us now.”

“Women.” He pulled his shirt on with a mumbled curse.

She frowned at him. “What
about
women?”

“You think too damned much!” He stomped into one boot and then the other. “You have to overanalyze every little thing.”

“It wasn't a
little
thing! It was a very
big
thing—well, for me anyway,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I'll take that as a compliment, sweetheart.”

Her head snapped up, her brown eyes narrowing as if she wanted to slug him. “That's
not
how I meant it.”

He shrugged. “If the boot fits…”

She grabbed one of hers and threw it at him. Dirk barely dodged the manure-covered missile. “Hold on there, Red.” He raised his hands, laughing in surrender. “Can we call a truce? I'm awful hungry.”

“What time is it?” she asked.

Dirk glanced at his watch. “Six fifteen. Go ahead and get dressed. I'll take you to breakfast. You got plenty of time.”

She regarded him with uncertainty. “But I need to head out to Thermopolis soon, and Grady'll be here any minute. He's riding with me.”

“Doubt that. He's more'n likely passed out. He was pretty wasted last night.”

“You never said where he went. Weren't you both kicked out of the hotel?”

“He crashed with a friend,” Dirk said carefully.

“A friend, eh?” She cocked a brow. “And there wasn't room for you too?”

“It would have been a bit crowded,” he replied.

She opened her mouth again and he raised a staying hand.

“Look, Red. There's no point in giving me the third degree. I don't pry into Grady's personal business, and he don't pry into mine. You want pancakes or eggs?”

Janice's stomach gave a loud growl and she colored as deep as her hair.

He laughed. “Pancakes it is.”

“Make it a full stack.” She grinned back. “I'm starving.”

“Let's go then. There's a decent diner just a little ways down the road. Do you mind driving? I don't have my truck. I'll give Wade a ring and see if he'll meet us there so I can get it back.”

“No, I don't mind driving.”

“Good, then I'll just go ahead and unhook the trailer while you dress.”

He'd just grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head when a knock sounded on the door.

“Grady!” Janice cast a panicked look at the door and then back to Dirk.

“It's all right, Red. I'll handle it,” Dirk said smoothly. He grabbed her discarded clothes and stuffed them into her arms. “Just step back into the bathroom and get dressed, and no one'll be the wiser.”

“But. How will you explain—”

He propelled her firmly toward the bathroom door. “Said I'd handle it.”

The knocking grew more insistent. “Janice? You there?”

Dirk flung the door open. “Mornin', Grady.”

Grady's mouth dropped open “What the fuck you doin' here?”

Dirk shrugged. “Lookin' for you.”

Grady's bloodshot eyes narrowed. He shoved past Dirk. “Oh yeah? Then where's Janice?”

“Getting ready. Since you weren't here yet, I offered to buy her breakfast. Wanna come? Looks like you need coffee.” His gaze raked over Grady, taking in all the evidence of last night's dissipation. “Lotsa coffee.”

“You ain't lookin' so hot yourself, Pretty Boy,” Grady growled.

He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the unmade bed. Dirk tracked his gaze, hoping they'd left no evidence from the night before. He suddenly thought of the condom.
Shit.
He hoped he'd disposed of the thing. He had no recollection.

“Did you fuck her?” Grady demanded.

“Have a little respect, asshole. This is Janice you're talking about.”

“Respect?” he persisted. “All right, did you fuck Miss Janice Combes?”

“No, I didn't fuck her,” Dirk lied through his teeth. “I told you I just got here.”

“How? I didn't see that piece of shit white Ford.”

“'Cause Wade still has my keys. I couldn't get him on the phone, so I walked.”

“You walked.”

“Yeah. I got two good legs last time I looked, and it's only a coupla miles.”

Dirk hoped Grady wouldn't ask where he'd slept last night. He was damned if he could come up with anything plausible. But then again, Grady'd drunk so much the night before he probably wasn't even aware of the storm.

“Why'd you come?” Grady continued his interrogation. “What did you want me for?”

Dirk's mind scrambled for another answer. “I've had a change of plans.”

That one was true enough. Lots of things had changed overnight. He'd
planned
on spending the summer campaigning with Rachel, but now that was shot to hell—along with the entire relationship. He still didn't know what to think of that. Hadn't even had enough time to properly digest it. Last night he was pissed as hell, but now in the light of day he only felt strong resentment coupled with vague confusion.

He still didn't know what had compelled him to Janice's door—he'd just found himself here. He couldn't deny that sleeping with her had been a much needed balm after getting dumped, but it was a lot more than that. He liked Janice. A lot.

She was so different from Rachel, so easy to be with. She didn't place demands on him—even after what happened last night. He
really
didn't know what to think about that yet. By the way she'd avoided his gaze, she didn't either. He needed time to get it all sorted out—to get his head straight. Maybe she understood that too.

“I'm not dropping out of the circuit,” Dirk suddenly declared, wondering if the head injury had scrambled his brains after all. But the notion of Janice traveling alone with Grady stuck in his craw. “You still need a buddy, don't you?” he asked.

“Told you last night, I got one.”

“You mean Janice? She might be able to give you a lift as long as you're headed in the same direction, but that won't last long if you plan to do Cowboy Christmas. 'Sides, she can't share your room expenses.”

Grady passed an assessing look over the trailer. “Who says I plan to have any?”

Dirk fought the urge to grind his teeth. “Don't you think you should clear that with her first?”

“What with who?” Janice emerged from the tiny bathroom. She nodded to Dirk. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long.”

She was dressed but he'd forgotten to give her her boots. She played it cool, nonchalantly grabbing a pair of socks from a drawer, sitting down, and then dragging them on along with her boots.

“Just talking about the rodeo schedule, Sweet Cheeks,” Grady dissembled.

Dirk noticed her slight grimace at the pet name. It annoyed her, but he guessed she was either too shy or too polite to say so.

“Great. We can talk about all that over breakfast.” Janice stood with a bright smile. “Let's go. I'm starved.”

* * *

The diner was only a couple of miles down the road. As they drove, Janice and Grady carried on some small talk while Dirk was lost in his thoughts. He didn't know why he'd made the decision to rodeo all summer. He'd actually looked forward to a break from it. He'd never planned to go pro and make a career of it as Grady wanted to do, but he also wasn't ready to settle down to full-time ranching yet either.

They pulled into the diner with his mind still racing. Dirk ordered his breakfast without even looking at the menu and a minute later excused himself to make a call. He stepped outside, scowled at his phone, and dialed his brother.

“'Bout time,” Wade answered. “Was wonderin' when I'd hear from you.”

“Now,” Dirk replied. “I need my truck back, asshole.”

“Look, Dirk. Wanna lay off now? You know you were in no shape to drive last night. I was only looking out for you the same way I
hope
you'd look after me.”

Guilt hit him between the eyes like a two-by-four. His brother was right. He shouldn't have driven last night. “All right,” Dirk conceded. “I'm the asshole. Happy now, li'l bro?”

“Is that an apology?” Wade asked.

“It's as close as you're gonna get.”

“I can live with that.” Wade laughed. “You were getting damned tiresome, you know. Did you call home yet? Mama's about out of her mind with worry after what happened to you last night. I told her you were OK, but it'd be best if she heard it straight from you.”

“I'll call. You didn't mention anything 'bout me and Rachel, did you?”

“Didn't have to. Rae had already called to cry on her shoulder.”

“Shit.” Dirk kicked a boot toe into the dirt. “That's all I need.”

“You gonna try to make it up to her?”

“Hell no,” Dirk said. “I'm letting sleeping dogs lie till I get everything figured out.”

Figured out? That was a tall order, Dirk thought dryly. It wasn't that he didn't want Rachel anymore. He did—or at least he'd
thought
he did. Hell, after last night he wasn't sure about anything anymore. Which now brought things back around to Janice. He scrubbed his face. What the hell had he been thinking last night?

“You better not take too long deciding,” Wade warned. “You can't keep stringing Rachel along. I told you last night there's plenty of guys ready and able to take your place.”

“Let it go,” Dirk growled. “I'll deal with it when I'm ready…and I'm
not
ready.”

Silence. “She's too good for you.”

“Fuck you. And when you're done, bring me the truck, will ya? I'm at Casper's Good Cookin.' Gonna have breakfast and then head out for Thermopolis with Grady.” He decided it would be better to make no mention of Janice. Things were already tangled enough to make his throbbing head want to explode.

“Thought you were taking a break from rodeo for a while,” Wade said.

“Changed my mind,” Dirk replied.

“All right. I'll find someone to follow me over. Be there in a few…and, Dirk?”

“Yeah? What?”

“Call the folks. They really are worried sick.”

“Right. Bye, Wade.” Dirk clicked the phone off and stuck it back in his pocket, vowing to make the call home…after he'd come to some decisions.

Rejoining Grady and Janice, he slid into the booth opposite them, grunting absently to the waitress who came by with coffee. Still brooding over his conversation with Wade, he took up his cup and glanced at the television mounted over the lunch counter. The channel was set to CNN with a reporter giving an update on a recent bombing in Kabul, Afghanistan. A taxi packed with explosives had rammed a bus carrying thirty-three UN peacekeepers. The next story was on the Taliban bombing of an Afghani school for girls, one that had only recently been rebuilt.

“Animals. Fucking animals.” Dirk shook his head with rage, cursing when his coffee sloshed over the brim of his cup, splashing his hands. “The Taliban deserves to be blown back to the Stone Age.”

Grady gave a careless shrug. “Who cares about that wasteland anyway? We should just pull the hell out. They'll do themselves in eventually without any help from us.”