Rough Riders Bundle 1(books 1, 2, 3) (15 page)

Then Trevor would be stuck working with the old man all the time.

The thought of continually hearing his father berate him, the expectation that Trevor would permanently give up the rodeo lifestyle and his freedom made Trevor sick to his stomach. His family had never paid much attention to him besides to instill the obsession with rodeo within another member of the Glanzer clan. They sure didn’t understand him. There were things about him that would cause a rift between them that could never be repaired if they found out.

So even if he and Edgard were losing ground in the individual standings, he’d rather stay on the circuit, rather than head home and deal with the questions and comments from his family on his future plans.

Edgard didn’t understand his dilemma. Neither did Colby. They both had utter acceptance from their families. Once again, he felt completely alone. Scared that somehow the choices he’d made would come back to bite him on the ass.

The door to the room opened and Edgard glared at him from inside the doorway. “You ready to walk over to the arena?”

I don’t need you to hold my goddamn hand
. Trevor smiled tightly. “You go ahead. I’ve got to get something out of the horse trailer first.”

Without waiting for Edgard to protest, he stalked off across the motel parking lot.

As Trevor barged into the horse trailer it never occurred to him to knock.

Channing sat buck-ass naked at the little dinette table.

She gasped. It was cute how she tried to tug the sheet from the bed around her nakedness. “Trevor! What are you doing here?”

“This is my horse trailer. Maybe I oughta ask you what you’re doin’ eatin’ breakfast naked as a jaybird?”

“I-I just woke up.”

“Ah. So Colby already took off to check in?”

“Umm. Yeah.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got you all to myself?”

“It would appear so.”

“Hot damn. I knew there was a reason I came here.” His gaze made a slow sweep from her pink toenails to her tangled mane, sticking out of her head at all angles. Finally his eyes zeroed in on the short dark curls between her thighs. “And now I know
exactly
what I want for breakfast.”

“But—”

“No buts. Since Colby ain’t here, I’m callin’ the shots.”

“Okay. But I do want to be honest and let you know I’m a little sore from yesterday. I—I’m not used to that. Any of it.”

“Then I best kiss it and make it all better, huh?”

Channing swallowed hard.

“Do I make you nervous?”

“Only if I see a rope in your hand.”

“Not this morning.” Trevor pointed to the bed. “Get up there and let your legs dangle off the edge. And spread ’em nice and wide. I like to play with my breakfast before I eat it.”

Channing blushed about ten shades of pink. But she didn’t argue with him at all. Her heart-shaped butt wiggled enticingly as she crawled into the sleeper compartment.

“Like this?” she said.

Trevor noticed she had a foothold on either side of the wall. Her legs were braced far apart, as if she’d put herself on display for a man hundreds of times. But he knew better. It made her immediate surrender to him so much sweeter. “That’s perfect.”

He knelt on the dinette bench against the wall. His mouth was at exactly the right angle to dive deep into her pussy. He flattened his tongue and licked her from her little rosette to her clit. Up and down without stopping. Then he blew a stream of air across the wetness.

“Omigod.”

“You come pretty fast like this, don’t you?”

“Ah. Yes.”

“Then I’ll just have to make you come twice—once fast, once slow.” Trevor bent his head and began to work her just with his tongue, lips and teeth. Sucking. Biting. Bestowing little teasing flicks over her clit, then he’d jam his tongue into her opening, licking her from the inside out.

Damn. Something about a woman’s morning musk tasted different. Spicier. Warmer. Going down on her was a dirtier act in the daylight, rather than a lover’s secret, hidden under the covers and the cover of night.

“You taste like sweet cream and honey. I could come just from eating you.” His hands gripped her legs on the top near her hips. He let his thumbs lazily stroke the crease of her thighs, heightening the tactile pleasure, but never actually connecting with any part of her weeping sex.

“Well, I can definitely come like this.” Channing pumped her hips into his face. “I’m already close.”

“Mmm. You don’t say.” Trevor rolled her pussy lips around inside his mouth, sucking delicately. He focused his efforts on the button pouting for direct stimulation. First he suckled strongly and followed with quick bites from his firmed lips.

The combination set her off. Her clit throbbed beneath his tongue and he continued to use his mouth like he was devouring an ice cream cone—slurping, followed by precise short licks.

She came with a gasp, her back arched off the mattress, her ass clenched and she kept repeating, “Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.”

He chuckled and the intimate vibration against her sensitive flesh made her cry out again.

Trevor wiped her juices from his face. His cock was twitching to get out and get some action, but he wouldn’t presume Channing would be up for it, as she’d already claimed some soreness from their previous go-arounds.

After Channing’s legs stopped quaking, she propped herself up on her elbows and smiled at him shyly. “Get your fill?”

He licked his lips. “Breakfast of Champions, darlin’.”

Her gaze dropped to the obvious bulge in his jeans. She bit her lip. “Trev, can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure. What?”

“It’s sort of embarrassing.”

“That’s okay, Chan, we’re friends, right?”

“Right.”

“So tell me.”

Channing blurted, “I’ve never done sixty-nine.”

Not what he’d expected at all. “Never?”

“Nope.”

“And you want to try it?”

“Yeah.” She fidgeted. “So, I was wondering if you’ve got time…”

“Right now?”

She nodded.

“You sure you’re up for it? I thought you were a little sore?”

“Not so much anymore. Besides, it’d be a pity to waste a good hard-on.”

Trevor figured she wanted some sixty-nine practice before she tried it with Colby. He thought it was incredibly sweet and he doffed his clothes immediately.

Channing laughed. “You would have won the gold buckle if there was a contest for fastest clothing removal.”

“My mama didn’t raise no idiots, darlin’, you don’t have to ask me twice.” He crawled up in the sleeping area. “This is gonna be fun.” Trevor kissed her slowly in a drawn-out seduction of mouth on mouth. He spent extra time suckling and touching her breasts, giving her time to recover from her first orgasm. When she started rubbing her legs together, and a soft mewl rumbled from her throat, he knew she was ready for the short go.

He smoothed her wild hair from her strangely timid face. “It’s no different than givin’ me a blowjob, Chan. Curl on your side, and slide my dick in deep, but don’t arch your neck. And for God’s sake, when you start to come, don’t bite down.”

She giggled and it eased some of her tension.

“Ready?”

She nodded and rolled to her left side, Trevor settled on his right. Huskily, he said, “Lift your top leg. That’s it.” He swooped down and took her swollen sex in his mouth again.

Channing shifted and licked the head of his cock as delicately as a cat. Gradually, she brought him deeper, her mouth made little happy humming noises and she used her hand to stroke his shaft while her fingers fondled his balls.

For being a novice, her mouth and her touch were sheer heaven. Trevor knew he wouldn’t last. He focused all his attention on Channing’s clit, knowing she probably wouldn’t last long either.

She didn’t. She came with a gasp and the intake of air around his dick made his balls tighten up.

He was so close. He rose to his knees so she could deep throat him, as he continued to tongue her softly, bringing her down from her juicy climax.

All of a sudden heat shot down his spine, a hot poker between his legs and he waited for that pulsing rush to start.

The door clicked open. Trevor looked up from between Channing’s thighs into Edgard’s face. In that split second, his orgasm hit, semen rocketed out the end of his cock and Channing sucked him dry while Edgard watched.

Trevor closed his eyes, threw back his head and enjoyed the hell out of it—the thundering climax and the exhibitionism.

After the blood quit rushing in his ears and his cock went half-limp, his gaze caught Edgard’s again.

“I wondered if you were in here fucking off,” Edgard said softly, “but I hadn’t thought you were
literally
fucking off. Time to go,
meu amigo
. We’re late.” He turned and left without looking back.

Trevor fell on his side. He muttered, “Fuck.”

Channing scooted around. “Trev? Is everything okay?”

She didn’t need to get in the middle of this. He forced a smile. “Just great, darlin’. Just catchin’ my breath.”

“It’s okay if you have to go.”

“Unfortunately, as Edgard pointed out, I
am
runnin’ late. No regrets over our sexy interlude, but can you get to the rodeo grounds all right? Or do you want me to wait for you?”

“No. You go on. I still need to shower.”

Trevor kissed her thoroughly, surprised by how much he enjoyed his taste and her taste mingling on his tongue. “A sixty-nine virgin no more. You rocked my world and the horse trailer this morning, hot girl.”

She blushed. “Same goes.”

As he dressed he knew next time he’d remember to lock the damn door.

‡

I
t didn’t take
long for Channing to get ready and she eagerly left the cramped motel room for fresh air and blue skies. In this higher elevation, the sun had burned away the cool morning air quickly. It was warm, but the lack of humidity made it bearable.

Her ticket was at the box office, as promised. She scanned the arena and spied the bleachers beside the chutes. Before she wandered over to her seat, she watched the action unfold in the arena.

The team penning competition was nearly over. This event fascinated her because it seemed the teams with the best times were the most experienced, unlike most of the rodeo events where youth had an edge. The two men and one woman sorting the cattle were in their late fifties. They’d separated the three calves wearing the number four into the pens faster than the next closest team by a good fifteen seconds.

So did that mean that Colby could compete in rodeo for another twenty years? Wouldn’t he get tired of it? Or was this a lifelong obsession like other sports?

Channing bought a couple bottles of water. Rummaging in her bag for her notebook, her cell phone rang. She answered it absentmindedly. “Hello?”

“Channing? Is that you?”

Her stomach dropped. “Who else would it be, Mom?”

“You don’t need to be snippy.”

“Sorry.” She inhaled slowly. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?”

“Just great.”
Come on. Get to the point
. The only good thing about her mother’s phone calls was that she didn’t drag them out with inane chitchat.

“That’s good. Well, the reason I called is because I’ve received some interesting news.” Pause. “Your friend Melinda Blackwell? She and her delightful fiancé Robert ran off to Aruba and were married last weekend. Isn’t that marvelous?”

“Splendid,” she said sweetly.

“I tell you, Melinda’s mother was shocked as they’d already booked the cathedral months ago. Anyway, since Melinda and Robert skipped the formal wedding ceremony, they’ve rented the Gregory Art Museum and are hosting an enormous reception next weekend. Naturally, I assured Melinda you’d be in attendance.”

Channing seethed. She was twenty-five years old. Her mother had no right to speak for her. But it was nothing new in her life, which was the biggest reason why she’d run away from that life. She wondered if she’d ever be able to return to it.

“You will be finished with this little…rebellion of yours by then, won’t you?”

When she said
rebellion
it sounded quaint, less ominous than
run away with the rodeo
. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Dead silence.

“I certainly hope even if you don’t return to help your friend celebrate the beginning of her new life, that you will be back here in time to prepare for your move to—”

“I said we’ll see.”

Another disapproving pause. “Channing, your father went to a lot of trouble to secure the teaching position for you at Palmer. You do realize how it would look if you—”

“Yes, Mother, I’m aware of how it would look. And God knows I would never do anything to besmirch the almighty Kinkaid name.”

Her mother sniffed. “Not only do I not like your tone, you are not acting at all like the responsible child I raised. I don’t understand what has happened to you.”

I grew up, wised up, and realized how screwed up everything is in your little world and how I don’t want any part of it.

A cloud of dust heavily laced with the scent of horseshit wafted past. It amazed her how rapidly the pungent aroma had become familiar and calmed her. Not that she could share that tidbit with her mother. Jacqueline Moore Kinkaid would be appalled.