Rodeo Riders Read Free Page B

her shirt and unhook her bra. The loose garment still covered her breasts, frustrating her and hopefully tantalizing him.
    These moments of exploration were about foreplay, nothing else. She’d think later, question later, maybe regret later.
    Embracing her decision, she clamped her knees around his legs and wondered if she could keep him there forever.
    Maybe not. One moment she was sitting upright. The next he’d pushed her back on the bed and was looming over her. Much as she wanted to say something, anything, she couldn’t.
    Her legs still hung over the edge. Because he continued to stand within the shelter of her knees, she could have told herself she had some control over what was happening, but she didn’t want that. She wanted to be used, worshipped, fucked.
    There. The single word that says it all.
    Her pussy heated. Moisture built from deep inside, softening and preparing her.
    “My panties,” she whispered. “Get rid of them.”
    Grabbing the elastic, he tugged them off, the effort made easy because she arched upward and lifted her ass off the mattress. Still only half believing what was happening, she reached for her bra straps. Shaking his head, he pressed her arms onto the bed. His gaze warned her not to move. Lips numb and swollen, she nodded.
    He closed his fingers over the straps and guided them out to her shoulders, then the lifting of her arms. He took what seemed like forever to uncover her breasts. The bra landed on the top of the rest of her clothes. Folding his arms across his chest, he stared down at her.
    Naked. Exposed. Ready.
    By contrast, he still had on his boots and jeans.
    “You’re making me crazy!” she gasped.
    “Not nearly as crazy as you’ve made me for years.”
    “What?”
    “You think I’ve never wanted to do this?”
    She reached up, then her arms fell back onto the bed. Inch by maddening inch, he unfolded his arms and let them dangle by his sides. She ground her knees against his legs. The effort earned her a chuckle.
    “All right. All right.” She licked her lips and tried again. “Are you waiting for me to say I’ve wanted to have sex with you?”
    “Only if you mean it.”
    “Yes. Damn it, yes!”
    “Why?”
    “Why wouldn’t I?” Her belly clenched. It took every bit of self-control not to offer her core to him like some mare in heat. “You have a killer body. Strong, rugged, masculine.”
    “That’s the only reason?”
    “What do you want me to say?”
    “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
    Bothered by his pensive tone, she tried to concentrate on his expression. Maybe he knew what she was doing and had no intention of letting her succeed. And maybe he’d grown weary of talking. Eyes half-closed, he pressed down on her mons. His other hand sought and found her slit.
    “You’re wet.”
    “Yes.”
    If he’d asked permission, she would have granted him full access. Instead, he claimed her as if he had every right to all of her. His work-roughened finger slid in and along the wall of her vagina. She fought to stay silent, but a long, low groan rolled out of her. Tilting her pelvis upward, she rolled her head to the side.
    He made her opening his playground, sliding in and out repeatedly. She clutched the coverlet. Sweat coated her throat and the small of her back. The muscles had been stripped from her legs. Her lower body became so weak, she couldn’t move.
    Drifting in a sea created by her need for sex, she was slow to comprehend that he was no longer finger fucking her. She clutched the hand still pressing on her mons. “So fast. So damn fast.”
    “You don’t want this?”
    “Yes, damn it. I do.”
    “So do I.”
    On the tail of his admission, he took hold of her hips and pulled her closer. Robbed of his fingers on her sex, she started to sit up. “Don’t play games. Don’t tease me.”
    “I don’t intend to.” His strong fingers pressed her back onto the bed. “But I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. It’s going to happen—my