Secret Pressure (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 4) (15 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Ruby washed the last cup, dried her hands and started upstairs. She got to the landing and heard noises coming from one of the bedrooms. The door was left cracked a few inches and Jobe was standing in front of the dresser, still wearing the too-tight, but sexy-as-hell, shorts. She could see his reflection in the mirror, his naked chest, abs, and lean hips. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. He worked hard and had the muscles to prove how much.

She took a step toward the open door, not taking her eyes off his amazing image.

Watching him wasn’t a smart choice, but how could she resist? He was a gorgeous man and she was curious about his nightly routine. Her brain froze when he reached for the waist of his shorts and with a flick of his wrists, they fell down his legs.
For all that is holy…

She’d never seen a better set of buns. Sweat beaded between her breasts, her mind flashing a neon sign of warning, but her legs refused to move. She should let him know she was in the hallway—a clearing of throat or a knock at the door. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Standing in the shadows, watching him, made her adrenaline spike.

He turned and her breath caught. Oh shit! He was hard and thick, his erection pointing at the ceiling. She moistened her lips, her heart pumped fast and her hands turned clammy. He clutched his shaft in his hand, his large fingers encircling the purplish flesh, taut over iron muscle. She flexed her own fingers, wanting to touch, but she stood in the shadows like a peeper. He took a step toward the door, her stomach turned. Had he seen her? Her skin warmed. She couldn’t move now. If she did, he’d know she stood outside his door.

A playful smile fell on his lips as he dropped his hand from his body. “The peep show is over, sweetheart.” He gave the door a push with his foot and it went shut.

Body trembling, she raced down the hallway, into the bedroom and jumped into bed, pulling the sheets high up around her shoulders. Listening for any sounds from the bedroom down the hall, she couldn’t hear anything, not even the squeak of a mattress spring.

A long minute passed and then it came.

A moan—soft, but definitely a moan. Oh my…

What was he doing?

Twenty seconds later, another groan, deeper.

She lay on her back, stiff and her heart pounding in her ears. She knew exactly what he was doing and she guessed this was his way of teasing her.

“This won’t work,” she whispered, rolled over, punched the pillow twice, and then laid back down. Why was the damn pillow so lumpy?

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

An image of Jobe lying naked in bed, his hard body stretched out, his hand pumping his erection flashed behind her eyes. Her thighs pulsated and her juices flowed. She wanted him.

Moving to her side, she covered her head with the pillow. But she didn’t need to hear because her imagination worked overtime. Thrashing on the bed, she threw off the covers. Goosebumps scattered across her skin, but it had nothing to do with the cooler air. Sexy images splintered through her brain—her climbing on him, riding him. The thoughts took her mind on a roller coaster unlike any other. She’d never been on a thrill ride quite like Jobe Walters.

She chuckled, covering her mouth so he wouldn’t hear. There was nothing funny about this, and yet it was. A man like Jobe should never have to pleasure himself. He had a willing participant right down the hall and the idea that they couldn’t travel that road again only made it much more tempting.

The cabin became eerily quiet. Her muscles relaxed one by one, and her overactive mind was the last to let go.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she woke, her breathing ragged.

Another storm was passing through. Lightening lit the bedroom and the wind caused the tree branches to scrape the side of the cabin.

She sat up, glancing around the ominous shadows. She shivered.

Then she heard another sound. A popping sound followed by a crash.

Climbing from bed, she tiptoed across the bedroom, barefoot. Peeking around the open door, she listened. Nothing.

She thought of going back to bed, but she couldn’t sleep until she had made sure everything was okay.

Slowly, she padded down the hallway, her knees trembling. She stopped outside of Jobe’s room and could hear his heavy breathing through the closed door. “Must be nice,” she muttered.

Bravely, she made her way down the darkened stairs and stopped at the bottom step, peering through the shadows. The breeze whizzed through the windows and down the fireplace chimney.

Crack!

She jumped at the sound, but realized it came from outside. Somehow this relieved the tension in her body—some. Back home on the ranch she’d gotten used to chasing away critters.

Going to the door, she opened it two inches and peeked out, just as a skunk scurried off the porch. The metal trash can was knocked over.

Chuckling, she closed the door, relocked it and turned on her heel and walked smack into a hard chest. “Jobe! What are you doing?” She rubbed her aching nose and stared up at him.

“I heard a noise. What the hell are you doing?” he whispered.

“Looks like we had a critter in the trash can.”

“Okay.” He scrubbed his jaw, the layer of beard sounded like sandpaper and her inner thighs quivered, recalling how his unshaven jaw felt against her sensitive skin.

Their bodies were close—so close his body heat warmed her. She should step back, but every feminine urge screamed for her to stay right there, accept the gift of passion. The bulge rubbing her stomach made her look down. He was naked! Awareness trickled through her and desire pooled into her loins. “Jobe…” his name fell from her lips, an invitation to put his erection to good use.

He gathered her into his arms, clutching her against the warmth of his warm, broad chest. She could stay right here forever, close to him, hearing the beat of his heart. He carried her effortlessly to the couch and placed her on the leather cushion. She kept her gaze steady on him, watching him as he stood above her, thankful that the moon offered some light so she could admire him.

All logic told her she should push him away, run like hell, but a bigger part of her liked knowing he was ready for her. She reached for his hand and kissed his knuckles, inhaling his fresh soap scent and a trace of leather. How could she ever deny herself the one man who promised such pleasure?

“Ruby…I—”

She looked up through the veil of her lashes, moistening her dry lips. “Please, Jobe,” she urged. “No thinking. Just feeling.”

“That’s always easy with you.” His raspy tone plucked at her nerve endings.

He palmed her cheek, his chest rising and falling, his erection long and thick now.

A long exhale of breath came through his tight lips, as if he realized there was no fighting the emotions. He moved his fingers to the hem of her shirt and tugged it over her head. Her nipples tightened and her core throbbed in exhilaration.

Yes, soon she would have her cowboy…

****

“If we’re going to do this, then I’m going to see everything.” Jobe reached over and clicked on the lamp. Golden light filled the room, and Ruby’s beautiful naked body. She looked amazing against the bronzed backdrop of the couch, her long wavy hair spread out over the cushion. Her breasts were firm, her nipples thick, and there was a fullness to her hips, now he knew because of their child.  She was stunning, had been before, and now even more.

His cock sprang upward, pointing at the ceiling. Her eyes were on him, caressing him without even touching his body. He responded, a bead of cum pearling at the slit of his head. She saw it too and she leaned forward, rolling the tip of her tongue over the cream then licking her lips. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. But she didn’t stop there. She wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft, moving in perfect rhythm, pumping him. His breathing turned ragged as the crescendo built. She slid her mouth over him, until she couldn’t take anymore between her lips. Her cheeks caved, eyes glossy, as she sucked on him. An accomplished sucking of a woman who aimed to please.

Her lips were lovely. Warm, moist, with just the right amount of pressure. He rolled his hips and she didn’t reject.  In fact, she urged him by planting her hands on his ass. He increased the thrusts, digging his fingers into her hair and a deep moan vibrated the tip of his cock.

Swearing under his breath, he wanted to spurt in her mouth, but wanted something else so much more.

He gently pushed her back, she released her hold on him and sank into the cushion, spreading her legs ever so slightly so he got a wonderful view of the small triangle shape at the apex of her thighs.

He lowered to his knees, spreading her knees, enough to adjust to the size of his body. One corner of her mouth curved into a smile, full of mischief, full of promise. Partially resting against her, balancing on his knees, their naked bodies pressed together. He rubbed his cock against her, proving to her how much he wanted her. A whimper fell from her lips and it was almost his undoing. Everything about her, this, was so right and yet, so wrong.

Cradling one breast in the palm of his hand, he gently squeezed, flicking the tight nipple. His heart beat hard against his rib cage and he was grateful he was a fairly young, healthy man. Otherwise, she’d be the death of him for sure.

She brought her mouth to his, plundering her tongue in and out. He caught it between his lips, suckling, then sipped at her sweetness. A raw, wicked drive crawled through him, puddling in his pelvic area. He needed to put a brake on the emotion, take things slow and deliberate.

Her fingers moving across his skin—his back, his shoulders, his waist—told him she was growing hungry. He certainly was starving.

Jerking his mouth away, he left her gasping for breath, her cheeks bright pink.

She walked a finger down his chest, over his stomach and slid her short nail along his length, until she reached the tip. “I want you, this. Are you going to make me wait much longer?”

“You’re a wicked woman, sweetheart.” The words scraped his raw throat. His body ached all over. He pinned her against the cushion, placing his hands against either side of her head, lowering his face to hers. He’d never felt more powerful, more manly than when he was close to her. Looking into her vulnerable gaze, he realized she felt the connection too. “We have all night and I plan to enjoy this.”

Every muscle on his body tightened and heat spread between them in a passionate charge of desire. She rolled her tongue along his lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth as she clutched his shoulders.

He pulled back, gasping for air. Kissing her shoulder, her neck, her chest, he made his way to one breast, sucking the nipple into a stiff peak, while massaging the other and flicking the nipple with his thumb. She arched her back and her legs spread open wider. He took a heated path downward to her belly button, prodding the indentation with the tip of his tongue while he slipped his hand to the junction of her thighs. He remembered so well how she would respond when he paid special attention to this secret area of her body. Most women liked pleasure given here, but Ruby would practically squirm off the bed when he toyed with her moist lips. He sank one finger deep into her opening, then joined it with another and she rotated her hips, sinking her fingers into his hair and grabbing handfuls of strands and tugging.

With the heel of his hand, he rubbed the heated lips, pressing her clit with the back of his knuckle. Her body became slicker and her movements became stiffer. Before she climaxed, he wanted to taste her, every slick inch, sipping the fine juices.

He pulled out his fingers and buried his face between her thighs, which were trembling against his ears. Licking the silken cream from her slit, he slid his tongue over the seam, sliding his tongue into her opening, her muscles squeezing. Finding the pearl of pleasure, he rolled his lips over the nub, suckling and blowing, just as he remembered she liked.

She shuddered and cried out, her back arching and her legs bucking wildly. He held her steady as he continued to coax pleasure to life. When her spasms slowed, he pulled away and quickly lifted her off the couch, sat down and dragged her onto his lap, facing him.

“Ruby, put me inside of you.”

Trembling, she reached for him, clasping him in her quaking fingers as she guided his slick head to the apex of her thighs. She moved her hips, taking him, inch by inch—the best pleasure/torment he’d ever felt in his entire life. He laid his head back, grasping her breasts and rolling the pads of his thumbs around the perky pink tips. Her hair bounced around his wrists and he couldn’t resist entwining his fingers of one hand around the silken strands.

An unexplainable fullness rushed through him making his balls throb.