Rockstar Romance: Julian (Contemporary New Adult Bad Boy Rock Star Romance) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 3) (24 page)

****

I don’t usually rise before eight AM, and when I do, I certainly don’t drive out to the middle of nowhere to watch hundreds of steers walk down the street. The reason I’ve done both on this particular morning walks over to me carrying two coffees.

Jesse. The last two weeks have been Jesse, Jesse, and more Jesse. Other times I’ve fallen for guys I haven’t been able to focus on my work—but I don’t think I’ve ever been more efficient with my writing than I have been since I met Jesse. I’ve been laser-focused, since getting work done faster means spending more time with him.

I keep expecting the other shoe to drop. But it hasn’t. He’s kind, courteous, and has a good sense of humor. He’s got Southern charm without any of the judgmental attitude that usually goes with it.

And I can’t seem to stop touching him. Every other second, I’m catching his rough hand in mine, combing my hand through his hair. It isn’t even about how handsome he is, though of course that’s nice. It’s this insatiable, Jesse-specific hunger that isn’t satisfied no matter how many times we have sex (and we have had a lot of it!)

I’m getting too attached, just like I knew I would. He looks over at me with his crooked smile and all I can think is
Don’t leave.

“Belle!”

I turn to see Sherry, her husband, and their brood approaching us. Little Scotty and Diana toddle over on unsteady legs while even littler Zoe rides in a Baby Bjorn on Sherry’s chest. Her husband, John, is overloaded with various bags full of whatever it is parents use to amuse/feed/diaper their children on family outings.

“How did you do it, Jesse?” Sherry demands when they reach us. “I’ve been trying to get Belle to come with me to the cattle drive since we met! But every year she makes some excuse.”

Jesse looks at me. “Is that right?”

In the last two weeks, there hasn’t really been a good time to explain my hatred of all things rodeo to Jesse. With a quick dirty look at Sherry, I sigh. “It’s true,” I confess to him. “This is my first cattle drive. And when I come to see you next week, it’ll be my first time at the rodeo.”

His blue eyes get as big as saucers. “Wait, you’ve
never
been to the CFD?”

“I mean, I’ve
passed by
it,” I reply. “I’ve just never gone out of my way to be involved.”

“She goes out of her way
not
to be involved,” Sherry says.

“Here they come!” John exclaims, much to my relief.

I look down the street and there they are: steers as far as the eye can see. Ranchers on horseback keep the cattle in line.

“Wow,” I say. “There’s got to be at least a hundred of them.”

“Try four-hundred and fifty,” Jesse says with a chuckle.

The ocean of steers passes by on their way into town and I can’t help but smile. It’s not every day you see hundreds of steers walking down the street.

I startle when I feel arms wrap around my waist. “So you’re not such a big fan of the rodeo?” Jesse whispers in my ear.

I lean back against him. “Not exactly. Actually … I kind of hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s so noisy for like ten days straight, and the animals don’t get treated well, and so many of these cowboys are such douchebags—” I stop myself as I realize what I’m saying. “Not
you
, obviously…”

I can feel Jesse’s stomach moving as he laughs. “You must like me a lot, then,” he says softly, and lightly kisses my neck.

I look back and forth but everyone else is absorbed by the cattle drive. I turn my head to look Jesse in the eyes. “You have no idea.”

He hugs me closer and we watch as the cattle retreat toward Frontier Park in the distance. They get smaller and smaller the farther they get from us. Most of the spectators race to follow the steers, but Jesse and I stay put.

Don’t leave, Jesse,
I think again.
Please
don’t leave.

****

The rodeo has officially started, and I hate it every bit as much as I thought I would. It’s hot enough that I’m sweating through my shorts and t-shirt and the air is thick with horse manure. There is also no real walking to be done at the rodeo, just moving in the tiniest of steps through the stifling crowd.

This aspect of the rodeo is especially annoying when you are trying to find your bronc-riding boyfriend’s event that starts in five minutes.

Not that Jesse’s my boyfriend,
I think.

He’s called me his “girl” a few times and I don’t think the moniker of “boyfriend” would bother him. But it’ll just make things harder. Jesse’s not even staying through the whole rodeo. He’s leaving the morning after his last event, which is in four days.

I finally find where I’m supposed to be. I race into the stands and am able to snag a seat in the front row since I’m all by myself. Sherry and her family met Jesse and I for the pancake breakfast this morning (free pancakes: the one thing I
do
like about the rodeo), but they can’t cart their kids out for too long before it turns into a disaster.

Jesse is one of the first cowboys to ride. This is bareback bronc-riding, which looks as terrifying as it sounds. Horses buck around, trying to unhorse their riders. I’ve seen Jesse on a bronc already, out at the stables—his body was loose and fluid despite the insane animal jerking beneath him.

That’s not how he looks now, though; I notice immediately that Jesse looks stiff.

Loosen up,
I think at him. It’s what he’s told me every time we’ve gone horseback riding together in the last few weeks. Why is he so tense?

He doesn’t heed my mental advice, and he falls off the horse as quickly as I fell off that mechanical bull the night we met. I stand and rush to the railing. Luckily, Jesse is able to get up and make his way out of the arena.

I rush out of the audience, ignoring the glares of the people whose laps I’m climbing over. I head over to what I can only think of as the “backstage” area—what’s that called in the rodeo? A cowboy-hatted man stops me. “You need a pass to come any farther, ma’am.”

I see Jesse talking to a few other cowboys and wave. He walks over, looking at the ground. “Hey, Annabelle.”

“Hi!” I greet him with forced brightness. “I’m pretty sure you deserve a beer. Let me buy you one.”

“I’m not really in the mood.”

This is a Jesse I don’t recognize—cold and distant. “Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine,” he says through gritted teeth. The cowboy/rodeo bouncer looks at us with interest. Jesse takes my arm and leads me to where there are less people, behind a hot dog cart.

“Are you really fine?” I ask. He doesn’t seem to be walking weird or anything.

“Physically, yeah.”

“What does that mean?”

He looks around us at the crowd. “You know what? I
will
take you up on that beer. Not here, though.”

Jesse drives us to Cowboy South, the bar where we met. If possible, it’s even gaudier during the day. There are a lot more day-drinkers than usual, but it’s still blissfully empty inside compared to the rodeo. We sit down and I order a beer while Jesse ends up ordering a double whiskey.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask. “I know losing is rough, but—”

“No, you
don’t
know,” he snaps. Then he takes a deep breath and his face softens. “This rodeo is worth a lot more than just winning or losing to me. You see … what you just saw wasn’t exactly unusual. I’ve been riding broncs and bulls since I was a kid. Made real good money at it too, for the first few years. But lately, things haven’t been going so well.”

“But I’ve seen you ride at the stables,” I say. “You’re incredible.”

“Out there with old Colt? Sure. But when I get in the arena, I freeze up.”

I reach out to take his hand. “What changed?”

He shrugs. “My mama passed on a few years back. That took my mind out of the game for a while. And once I fell enough times, I just couldn’t relax out there. The last few months have been better, but I still haven’t been winning enough money to get by. This rodeo has the biggest prizes out there. The rider who wins the bull-riding championship wins $100,000. If I even place, I should be able to get by for a while on that money.”

“And if you don’t?”

His face hardens. “Then I have to go work on my dad’s dairy farm back in Slocomb.”

“Well… milk is good, right?”

He doesn’t smile. “I hated it, Annabelle. My dad just ran me and my brothers ragged—he didn’t care what we wanted. I was up at dawn and working til sundown. He treats his cows like trash. He treated the horses even worse before he sold ‘em all off.”

“He sold Peanut?”

His eyes darken. “No. Peanut broke her leg, so he shot her instead of taking her to the vet.”

We sit in silence for a few moments. “Well, it sounds to me like you need to relax,” I finally say. I down the rest of my beer. “Do you think I might be able to…
help out
with that?”

****

Within ten minutes, we are out of the bar and on the way to Jesse’s hotel. We’re kissing before he’s even able to fit his key card into the lock on his door. He blindly gets the door open and we stumble inside.

Jesse pulls off my t-shirt and unhooks my bra with stunning accuracy. He kisses me again with an urgency that hasn’t been there the many other times we’ve kissed these last few weeks. I unbutton his shirt and pull off the white t-shirt underneath so we can be skin-to-skin. I love the feeling of my soft, full breasts pushing up against his rock-hard bare chest.

He pulls back and teases my nipples a little roughly, but not in a bad way. In fact it’s rough in a very, very good way indeed. He bites them lightly as I feel them turn into stiff peaks in his mouth.

He moves back up to my lips and I push him back toward the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them and his boxers down. He’s almost completely hard already; I take him in my mouth and he moans.

“Oh, Annabelle,” he says and runs his fingers through my hair.

I take him deep in my mouth and look up so I can meet his eyes with my half-lidded gaze. Then I surround his cock with my D-cup breasts, pressing them together, moving them up and down his length.

After a few minutes, he reaches down to pull me on top of him. He guides the head of his engorged cock into my entrance and I moan as I begin to ride him hard, my clit rubbing against his pelvis. Jesse cups my breasts, biting my nipples again and I shudder. He rubs my clit with his other hand and I pick up speed, riding him harder and harder.

Suddenly he rolls me over. “Get on your hands and knees,” he orders.

I quickly obey and he stands at the edge of the bed behind me. After a few seconds, I move my hips back and forth in his direction.

He bends over to whisper in my ear, his cock sliding up and down my drenched folds, but agonizingly not going any further. “What do you want, Annabelle?” he asks.

“I want…” I trail off and push back against his cock again, but he backs away.

“I want to hear you
say it
,” he says.

“Oh, fuck me,” I say in rush. “Just please fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?” he asks, the tip of his dick teasing me.

“YES!” I scream. “FUCK ME, JESSE!!”

He thrusts his whole length into me and, for a second, my vision goes black. He pumps his dick into me from behind and I bounce up and down on him in the same rhythm. When his fingers goes back to my clit, I can barely even stand it. But he keeps going, faster and faster, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. His cock gets even harder and I know he’s about to come. “Annabelle, I love you,” he calls out in a rush as his hot release shoots deep into me.

I come at the same time, my inner walls clamping rhythmically along his length. I lie still on the bed for a moment, letting the last jolts of my orgasm ripple through me.

He comes to lie on the bed and I rest my head on his deeply muscled chest, now covered with beads of sweat. “Has that ever happened to you before?” I ask, my fingers tracing the pronounced V of his pelvic muscles.

“What?” he asks, trying to catch his breath.

“Coming at the same time.”

He thinks for a moment. “No. I don’t think it has.”

“Me neither.” I pause. “So, did you really mean…?”

He rolls over so we’re face to face. “I meant what I said, Annabelle.” He cups the side of my face with his hand. “I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too, Jesse.” We kiss, but soon I feel a dropping feeling in my stomach and pull away.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s just … I love you, and you love me, and that’s wonderful and all. But you’re leaving in four days. You don’t even have a permanent address!”

“Well, I do. My dad’s house, for taxes. But I know what you mean.” He pauses. “Well, what if you came out on the road with me?”

“What?
…Could I even do that?”

He nods. “Sure. A lot of guys bring their wives. A buddy of mine even brings his little boy along.”

“I…” I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. Three weeks ago, we didn’t even know each other. Now I’m considering “going on the road” with him indefinitely?

The word “wives” keeps coming back to mind. “Are you asking me to…?” I ask him.

His brow furrows then he laughs. He has dimples, I realize. I am considering running away with a man whose dimples I didn’t even know about until two seconds ago. “Not necessarily, though we should talk about that. I just know that I love you, and I want to keep spending time with you.”

“I have to think about this,” I say slowly. I touch his cheek. “Thank you for asking me.”

He pulls me to him. “Meeting you, getting to know you—it’s the best I’ve felt in a long time. So thank
you
, Annabelle.”

I look at the clock. “You don’t have another event until tomorrow, right?”

“Nope,” he agrees.

We don’t leave the bed until morning.