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

“Colby McKay!” Flustered by the image of his dark head burrowed between her legs, his mouth shiny-wet with her juices, she attempted to push him away. He didn’t budge. The man redefined rock solid. No wonder bulls and broncs had a tough time tossing him off.

“You ain’t as indignant as you’d like me to believe, Miz Channing. In fact—” he nipped her earlobe, sending tingles in an electric line directly to her nipples, “—I suspect a firecracker such as yourself prefers dirty talk.”

The subtle pine scent of Colby’s aftershave and the underlying hint of aroused male soaked into her skin more thoroughly than the beer. A purely sexual shiver worked loose from her head to the pointed toes of her cowgirl boots.

“Come on and dance with me. Let’s see if we can’t spread that wetness around a little.” Without waiting for her compliance, Colby tugged her toward the dance floor.

“The Cowboy Rides Away” by George Strait blasted from the speakers.

The second they were engulfed by the mass of dancers, Colby hauled her flush against his firm body. A big, strapping man, he was hard everywhere—from his brawny chest to his powerfully built thighs. No two-stepping for them. He clasped her right hand in his left, nestling his right palm in the small of her back. That single touch seared her flesh like a red-hot brand.

Lord. And the long hard thing poking her belly sure as shooting wasn’t his championship belt buckle.

“You okay?”

Channing nodded, even when her head spun with the idea the hottest cowboy on the circuit had a massive hard-on for her—right here in front of rodeo queens, stock contractors, old-timers and everyone else.

“See? This ain’t so bad, is it?”

“No. Actually, it’s really nice, Colby.” She rested her cheek on his chest and sighed softly.

“Nice? I’ll take that, though, I’d prefer naughty.” His hold on her tightened. “Be nicer yet if we were naked,” he whispered against her temple.

Naked line dancing. That might be interesting. Gave a new definition to the term
swingers
.

Booted feet shuffled and stomped in the sawdust. Men and women whirled in flashes of bright fringe and glittering rhinestones. Finally Colby spoke again. “Can I ask you something, sweetheart?”

“I guess.”

“How’d you end up with Jared?”

Because I didn’t see you first.

Channing didn’t look up; rather she studied the pearl studs on his plaid Western shirt. “We met after he did a bull-riding exhibition. We got to talking and I told him I wanted an adventure. We hooked up and here I am. Why?”

“So you ain’t goofy in love with him? Hopin’ he’ll put a ring on your finger at summer’s end?”

“No.” Truth be told, she suspected she’d made a mistake in choosing Jared. Beneath his enchanting Australian accent lurked a moody, possessive man with secrets. She had no idea what to do about it. “Why?”

“This don’t seem like your thing.”

“What? Traveling on the rodeo circuit?”

“Well, that too. But mostly I was talkin’ ’bout a classy broad like you shackin’ up with that lyin’ slimeball.”

Channing glanced up. Instead of acting snappy and defensive, she batted her eyelashes and sweetened her tone. “Why, Colby McKay, I didn’t realize you cared about my virtue.”

“It ain’t your virtue I’m concerned about.”

“Then what?”

His hungry gaze captured every nuance of her face, ultimately homing in on her mouth. Heat from his eyes raced down her spine, gathering in her core. She felt more exposed than if he’d stripped her buck naked.

“Jesus. Every time I look at you I lose my damn train of thought.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you got the sweet face of an innocent and the body of a high-priced whore.”

Her mouth dropped open.

Studying her eyes, Colby gave her a devilish smile and lowered his head. Taking advantage of her parted lips, his tongue darted inside her mouth. No hard, fast kiss. Just a fleeting brush of his soft lips. A lingering stroke of his velvety tongue. His heated breath mingled with hers and her pulse quickened. Everywhere.

Oh. As his talented tongue slid along hers, any pretense of her resistance fled. She savored his taste; a spicy tang of beer, Copenhagen and toothpaste. Another shudder ran through her and she moaned softly.

“Does that shock you, darlin’?” he murmured against the corner of her trembling mouth.

Channing forced her traitorous lips away from his lazy assault. “Does it shock me that you classify me as a whore, same as those buckle bunnies following you around? No.”

His eyes flashed blue fire, as if she’d somehow insulted him. “I didn’t call you a whore. I didn’t call you an innocent, either, but I noticed you didn’t focus on that portion of my remark.”

“Then explain yourself, Mr. McKay.”

“I spend way more time thinkin’ ’bout you than I should, Miz Channing.” Colby didn’t miss a dance beat as he smoothly shoved a firm thigh between hers and waltzed her forward.

Startled by the searing friction of his leg grinding into her crotch, she blurted, “What do you think about, when you’re thinking about me?”

“Well, I ain’t fantasizin’ ’bout holdin’ your hand and takin’ you to the Sunday church ice-cream social.”

“No. Really?”

“Yes’m. Though, my thoughts do tend to wander to how many ways I can make you blush as I’m takin’ you nine-ways-til-Sunday.”

A blush crawled up her neck. “Why do you do this?”

“What?”

“Tease me all the time.”

“I ain’t teasin’ you. I just made my intentions clear.”

“No, you talked about your fantasies. Not your intentions.”

“That mean you think I’m all talk? I guarantee I’m not foolin’ around, Channing, darlin’.” He nuzzled her temple, tracking soft, moist kisses up her hairline and back down to her ear. He blew gently. Then he sucked all the air back out.

Channing actually felt the sharp vibration in her pussy. This wild man could make her sopping wet with one well-placed whisper.

“A little haughty, ain’t ya?” His fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt. Callused fingertips idly stroked the damp skin beneath the waistband of her jeans on her lower back. “I like your fire. A woman like you could burn a man up. And I’d enjoy every hot second as I went down in flames.”

Her breath caught at the eroticism in his simple words and teasing touch.

“Are you trying to see how far you can push me?”

“I suspect you’re embarrassed to admit you’d like to be pushed by me. Or tied up, trussed up, any way I want you. At my every wicked whim. And no doubt, shug, I know my way around wicked.”

Something about this straight-talking, sweet-talking man made her wild. And horny as hell.

“Colby—”

“Ssh. When you wise up to what Jared really is doin’, come talk to me before you do anything rash, okay?”

“But—”

“Promise me, Channing.”

“Okay. But why?”

“’Cause, sweetheart, I’m dyin’ to show you what you’ve been missin’.”

Another hot burst of moisture exploded in her panties. “What about Jared?”

“Yeah, what about me, mate?” Jared said.

She wheeled around guiltily. Crap. Jared lurked less than two feet away, his hands resting accusingly on his lean hips, as he glared at them.

Colby released her and retreated. “Nothin’. You’re a lucky fella, that’s all.” He tipped his hat to Channing and winked. “Thanks for the dance. See you around. Remember what I said.”

Channing watched Colby until he disappeared out the side door, a predatory cowgirl hot on his boot heels.

Jared snagged her hand and jerked her into an awkward embrace. “What were you and King Cheese yapping about?”

“Nothing really.”

“You should watch out for him and his buddy, Trevor. Nasty pair, those two.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jared tromped on her toe as he twirled her sideways. “Haven’t you seen the way the lasses gather around them? Not that I begrudge the blokes for taking their pick of pussy, but crikey. What they expect those chippies to do with not one, but both of them? At the same time?”

What would it feel like, writhing between two hard male bodies? Two sets of rough-skinned hands touching her. Two hot, hungry mouths, kissing, tasting, licking, tormenting every bared inch of her quivering flesh. Two big cocks demanding entrance into her body.

“You listening to me?”

“So, how have
you
seen them doing…things with one woman?”

“They don’t hide it. Ask anyone what they done last year behind the chutes in Cheyenne.” He leaned in so she heard the full account. “They had this young chickie stretched out naked over a stack of saddles. Hands tied behind her back with a piggin’ string. A bandana covering her eyes.”

“Was she there willingly?”

He snorted. “Those kind of women always are.”

“What were they doing to her?”

“Using her like a blow-up toy. She was sucking Trevor’s cock as Colby nailed her from behind. Then they’d switch, like some kinda Chinese fire drill. Laughing, carrying-on. They’ve no shame, either of them. No respect for women either, if you ask me. Then joking afterwards about that being the proper way to
break in a new saddle
.” His gaze narrowed. “Why? Did that cheese head proposition you?”

I wish
. “Umm. No.”

“Good. Stay away from their other traveling partner, Edgard. Something about that bloke rubs me the wrong way.”

Jared’s foul mood required an abrupt switch in the conversation. “Guess what? I won the wet T-shirt contest.”

“As you bloody well should have. You’ve got fantastic tits, love.” Jared’s hand snaked up her belly. He yanked up the damp shirt and cupped her bared left breast.

Channing squirmed. “Hello? We’re in public.”

“So?”

“So, if you want to maul me, let’s go back to the room.” She tugged the shirt down to cover her belly.

“Ah. I see. You can flash these titties to the whole bar, but the minute I want to touch them, they’re off-limits? Crikey, I could’ve stayed at home if I’d wanted that attitude.”

An acute sense of unease built. “What is wrong with you tonight? You eat a bad kiwi or something?”

“No.”

“Then knock it off.”

He laughed harshly. Meanly. “Little Miss Prim and Proper, are we now, love?”

Jared squeezed her nipple hard enough that it brought tears to her eyes. She slapped his hand.

“That wasn’t how you were last night.”

“How much have you been drinking?”

“Not nearly enough.” He puffed up with belligerence. “I oughta be asking
you
that question.”

“Why?”

“You know why. A little liquid courage is what you need.”

“Need for what, Jared?”

Jared clamped his hands on her hips, spun her until they were back to front and dry humped her. “A few beers would loosen you up. When you gonna give up this tight ass? It’s been a week and I’m bloody well tired of waiting.”

Ignoring the burning in her cheeks, Channing twisted from his hold. She latched on to his polyester shirt with both hands, hauling herself up until they were nose to nose. “Lower your voice.”

“That bothers you? People hearing you love to do the nasty stuff? Or knowing you’re a hypocrite for begging me to use my fingers on your tight little hole, and then pretending it disgusts you?”

Infuriated, she released his lapels. “It doesn’t disgust me. The way you’re acting disgusts me.” She wasn’t ashamed of a thing they’d done behind closed doors. But him talking about it as if it were some big joke made her feel used and cheap.

“S’matter? Truth sting a bit, love?”

She stared at him. Who was this cruel man? Something had set him off tonight. Before she could formulate a snappy response, Cash Big Crow sauntered up and tapped Jared on the shoulder.

Cash was another heart-stoppingly handsome cowboy on the rodeo circuit. Native American, short and stocky, with long dark hair he wore in a braid, he had a grin as wide as the brim of his black Stetson. Cash was a little older than the youngsters on the circuit, and a bit bowlegged from years spent riding bulls, broncs and “anything that bucked.”

“
Hoka-hey
. Hope I’m not interruptin’ a lovers’ spat.”

“You are,” Jared snarled. “What the bloody hell do you want?”

“Whoa, hold on, partner. Just wanted to return this to the lady.” He handed Channing her trophy. “You forgot it on the bar. Wouldn’t want some other gal to steal it, seeings you worked so hard to win it.” He winked.

“Thanks, Cash.”

“Oh, and this.” Cash held out a silver cell phone to Jared. “You left it in the can.”

Jared snatched it. “Appreciate it. Now move along, mate.”

Channing had endured enough of Jared and was tempted to ask Cash to take her back to the motel. Let Jared sort out his fit of temper on his own. She wasn’t his goddamn babysitter.

“What? You waiting for a tip?” Jared demanded.

“I’m going.” Cash took a couple of steps, then turned back. He gave Channing a pitying look before addressing Jared. “Your wife called your phone while I was in the bathroom, that’s why I picked it up. She wants you to call her back right away.”

Dead silence, ugly as the antelope-horn chandeliers hanging above them.

“Wife?” Channing repeated.

When Jared’s gaze zoomed to hers then flitted away, she knew the truth.

The bastard was married. He’d lied to her. Guilt, shame and fury arose inside her.

Jared spun on Cash to chew him out.

Without thinking, Channing blindly swung the trophy and clocked Jared in the back of the head.

He crumpled to the floor.

She froze. Shit. What had she done? What if she’d killed him? Spending her life in a Southern prison wearing orange paper shoes wasn’t part of her big adventure.

Clutching the trophy like a shield, she dropped to her knees and accidentally squashed Jared’s hat. She gingerly touched his head. A big bump protruded from the back of his neck. No blood though. Good thing she had lousy aim. His chest rose and fell so she knew he wasn’t dead.

A sick sort of relief swamped her.

“Hey, slugger, you okay?”

She looked up at Cash. “No. I didn’t know—”

“I figured you didn’t, sweets. You don’t seem the type to mess around with a married fella.”