Extreme Bull Read Free

his hat politely and escorted Melissa from the bar, never sparing a thought for Doris awaiting him in his booth. If he had thought about her, he would have just Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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    assumed that BJ would be double lucky tonight. For him, stealing Jeff’s girl out from under his nose just capped off a nicely winning day.

    MELISSA left Clay’s trailer after midnight, claiming her mother didn’t allow her to stay out late at night. Clay offered to take her home, but she asked for taxi fare and said it would work out better for her if she arrived at home alone.
    He didn’t mind. It was like all the other nights on the road: find a girl, do her, and then the emptiness set in. It was as if bull riding was some kind of aphrodisiac, sparking lust in him and creating a desire to bed a champion in the girls who followed the circuit on their TVs. When the tour came to town, it probably gave them their only chance to meet and sleep with a real cowboy. In fact, sometimes it surprised Clay how little the girls wanted from him, as if somehow the tables were now turned and he was a notch on their belts instead of the other way around. He knew from listening to the old timers that once upon a time it was almost a given that if you slept with a townie, you were as good as engaged.
    Not that he minded the way things were; he wasn’t ready to settle down yet. He had things to do and a life that no girl would want to live as he went from town to town in the season, riding bull after bull, trying for the finals.

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    Clay took one last puff on his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray next to the bed. A little sleep and he’d be good to go in the morning.

    “WHO’D you draw?”
    “Under Eight,” Clay said. “You?”
    “Got Terry’s lame-ass bull, Weedwhacker,” BJ said in disgust. Then he cheered up visibly. “I heard he hates to have his ears flicked. I’m going to tease him in the chute and see if I can get a better ride out of him.”
    “Good idea.”
    Noticing how Clay’s eyes were roving over the other cowboys, BJ said, “Jeff drew your bull from yesterday, Firestarter.”
    “It’s a fair trade.” Clay shrugged.
    “He took that Doris home last night too,” BJ added slyly.
    “And I got Melissa.” Clay laughed. “Bulls and girls are what you make of them, I guess.”
    “I had no idea you were such a fucking romantic.” Clay turned around, frowning to see Jeff standing there laughing. He made himself smile back, knowing it would Extreme Bull | Catt Ford
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    annoy Jeff. “It’s not who you ride, it’s how. Girls or steers, I’m going to beat your ass, and you know it.”
    “Keep telling yourself that, cowboy,” Jeff drawled, with a faint emphasis on the boy.
    “No problem, son .” Clay walked away, knowing he’d lose his cool and blow his top if he had to swallow any more of Jeff’s taunting. He needed to settle himself before the ride and get his concentration going.
    He went into the stable, blinking at the change from dazzling sunlight to cool darkness, breathing in the comforting scent of horses and hay and saddle leather to calm himself. Somehow Jeff always seemed to get his goat.
    Clay stiffened when he heard footsteps behind him and flattened his back against the wall to let whoever was in such a hurry get by. He gasped when a hard body rammed against his, squeezing all the air out of his lungs and pinning him against the rough boards.
    He clenched his fists, getting ready to defend himself.
    He knew it was Jeff though; the body pinning him smelled of Jeff’s cologne and some other underlying scent that was essentially Jeff. If he hadn’t been taken by surprise, Clay might have been pissed at himself for having somehow taken enough notice of Jeff to know how he smelled.
    “Can’t take the heat?” he sneered.

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    “I don’t know why I let you get under my skin,” Jeff responded in a low voice.
    Clay put his hands on