Chapter 6 #2
I cast an eye over him, not as a rider, but as the daughter of one of the finest stock contractors in the US of A.
He was a good size, with good lines. He was standing nice in the chutes, but Jack Hammer had been around awhile now.
He knew the deal. He had good aggression, unpredictable turns, a good variation between spinning and kicking.
He was a nice bull, and probably worth the hundreds of thousands we’d sink on him. He’d retire to a paddock filled with eligible bachelorettes soon by the sound of it.
As they herded the bull in the arena back through the gates, the chute boss indicated for me to climb in.
One of the chute guys threaded my rope for me and I handed it back to the rope man before I settled on the bull.
A hand reached out, grabbing my vest securely, low and close to my boob.
Not the guy from last week then. When I looked over my shoulder to say thanks, I saw it was Branch.
I almost lost my footing and slipped on top of Jack Hammer .
“I don’t ride for a bit. You need someone you trust.” There was no doubt in his voice that he was that person.
As much as his arrogance annoyed me, he was right.
There was no one else who I trusted like Branch, except Frankie.
But Frankie hated watching me ride after what happened to Luiz.
He always stood at the entrance, where he could hear but not see.
I nodded my thanks and settled onto the bull. I twisted my rope, tapping the rope so the ropeman could pull it tighter.
Jack Hammer leaned me into the chute a little and I winced, but someone was there pushing him off the rails and settling him back in. I wrapped my hand, making sure it was tight and snug, and when Jack Hammer jumped a bit in the stalls, Branch’s grip on my vest tugged me up a little.
“He’s good. We’re good!” I shouted at both Branch and the Judge.
“Come on, Hammer. A couple of more good rides and you’ll be out making baby bulls and eating the primo feed.
Just do your job for the next thirty seconds, ‘kay?” I muttered to the bull as I dragged myself forward onto my hand.
I grabbed the gate with my free hand, steadying myself.
Then I gave the nod.
The gate shot open and Jack Hammer went with it.
My muscle memory kicked in as I moved with the bull, but part of my subconscious was cheering as he turned into my hand.
Yes! I held on, my thighs tight, my core locked, and I rode that bull.
There was nothing else out in the arena.
Hell, there was hardly a Tessa May and Jack Hammer . Just woman and beast.
When the buzzer went off, I startled so hard I almost fell forward over his head.
Barely holding on, I loosened my hand, but came off the bull weird, landing way too close to his slamming hooves.
One grazed my thigh and I grunted as the full weight of the bull got me, but I scrambled out from under his belly before the next one got me in the head.
Bullfighters rushed in, and one of them grabbed me by my vest, dragging me out of the way as all the ropes came loose from the bull and he trotted out of the arena with self-satisfied air.
I looked at the clock.
Eight seconds.
I stood up, limping hard, but I ripped my helmet off. The crowd was going crazy as I threw it in the air and cheered along with them. I fucking did it. I belonged here. One of the bullfighters came over and slapped me on the back, handing me back my helmet and rope as I hopped toward the exit.
Calypso was there with a microphone, her grin infectious. “T.M., you rode Jackhammer for the full eight seconds. How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m flying. I knew if I got lucky and he turned into my hand, I could ride him. Jackhammer has been around a long time and I’ve watched dozens of his tapes. I knew that I could ride him if that one small thing went my way.”
Calypso looked like she wanted to hug me. “And you did. Well done, T.M. We look forward to seeing what you can do tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I said as I wandered off, and straight into Beau. He wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me into the private treatment room. They were no more than haphazard cubicles, but at least I could wince back here without them judging me for being a pussy. Stupid analogy.
Let me tell you, if a pussy is their standard of weakness, they don’t know jackshit about childbirth.
Or respect the fact that it bleeds like you cut a damn artery and still lives on to fight another day.
Pussies are like the Chuck Norris of body parts.
Take a literal beating and come back asking for more.
You know what is soft and useless? Balls.
Beau just blinked at me, and I realized I said all that out loud. He held up both his hands. “Hey, I’m not going to argue, makes perfect sense to me.”
He helped me unstrap my chaps and vest, hanging them over a chair.
I popped the buttons on my jeans and shimmied them down my legs.
This wasn’t a profession for being shy. I remember the first time I hurt myself, the sports medicine doc was a guy older than dirt and had probably seen everything.
He hadn’t so much as blinked at me, and when I’d hesitated, he’d given me a gruff word.
“Girl, you’ve got nothin’ I ain’t seen before.
Unless you are keepin’ a two-headed calf in those Wranglers, I ain’t interested in anything you got going on. ”
I still grinned at the memory.
Now, Beau helped me up onto the folding table. There was a big black bruise on my thigh, almost perfectly crescent shaped. It was seeping a little blood from surface cuts, but all in all, it didn’t look too bad.
It had been worth it for that eight seconds. I grinned even as Beau prodded the wound, stretching out my leg, twisting my knee and hip this way and that with impersonal hands. “Just soft tissue damage, you should be good Nugget.”
“Did you see me, Beau?” I asked softly, and his eyes slid up from my thighs to my face. “I saw you, Nugget. You were fucking beautiful. Powerful.”
I swallowed hard, the high of winning rushing through my veins.
I blamed what happened next on the endorphins.
I grabbed Beau’s head and pulled him toward me, mashing my lips to his, kissing him like my very next breath depended on it.
He stood frozen for a second, then he was kissing me back.
He moved his hands down my spine as his tongue slipped into my mouth.
I bit his lip, dragging it between my teeth. He pulled away, panting.
“Tessa May,” he whispered, and I didn’t know if it was a prayer or a question, but either way it didn’t matter. I needed this right now. Needed to make this moment perfect.
I toed off my boots, and pushed my jeans the rest of my way down my legs. “Beau. I want you,” I gasped, and I watched his whole body tense like he couldn’t quite believe it. Hell, I couldn’t quite believe it either, but I knew I wanted this right now, more than anything.
Besides, he wasn’t a rider, right? My principles were fine.
“I could never say no to you, Nugget. Not when you were thirteen begging me for your first kiss and not now.”
He stepped between my thighs, and his hands grabbed my hips, pulling me to the edge of the table so my soaked panties were rubbing against the hard front of his jeans. He kissed me again, groaning into my mouth as he ground against my core and I moaned.
He slipped his hands under my shirt, his fingers tracing up my stomach until they slid across the strapping on my chest. Fuck, my tits were aching for his mouth, but I didn’t want to stop to get them undone.
“I’ve dreamt about your tits. One day soon I am going to have my tongue wrapped around them, you mark my words,” he growled against my lips before kissing his way down my throat.
My hands fumbled with his belt buckle, getting it undone in seconds.
If bra clasps were the bane of a man's existence, then a belt buckle was a woman’s.
Seriously, trying to do it drunk may as well be trying to undo a chastity belt.
But right now, I was only drunk on my win and the smell of Beau filling my senses, the taste of him on my lips.
Finally I popped the buckle, and made short work of the button and zip of his Wranglers. I slid my hands into his boxers, wrapping my hand around his already hard cock. He let out a ragged breath, resting his forehead on my shoulder. “Jesus fuck, Tessa May.”
I grinned at his response. I thought some part of me, the logical, sensible part, would be rebelling at this recklessness, but there was nothing.
This was just a sense of rightness that washed over me, like my body knew it belonged to Beau.
I pushed his jeans down over his ass, until his cock was rubbing against the wet crotch of my underwear.
“Tessa,” he breathed, the question right there on his tongue. I didn’t let him voice it though. I pulled his head down for a kiss, pulling my panties to the side and lining him up with my dripping wet core.
“I’m clean and on birth control,” I moaned against his lips at the pressure of his cock nudging for entrance.
He nodded. “Me too. I never have sex without protection. Ever.” Then as if to defy his words, he thrust inside me in one hard stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist and bit the front of his shirt to stifle the moan. Oh god.
When he pulled back out and slammed in again, I found his mouth, letting it muffle my moans. Beau held my hips, ferociously rolling his body in and out in a motion that was hitting every good spot and making me see stars. Somehow, he was managing to hit my clit, and it was fucking glorious.
I drew away so I could suck in the air that seemed to be leaving my body in harsh pants, looking up into those caramel brown eyes. “Goddamn, I never thought. I never hoped…” he muttered, watching my face as he slammed in harder, making my arms wobble as I tried to push back, going deeper, harder.
“Beau!” I yelled, and he captured my mouth again, kissing the shit out of me as my orgasm rolled over my body, chasing away the pain in my thigh, the hundreds of people outside this room. All that was left was pleasure and this man.
He buried his face in my neck and roared his own release, filling me and I bit his shoulder as I came again. Holy shit.
We stayed twined in each other's arms for another moment, panting and catching our breaths. Finally, he pulled back enough that he could kiss me, and it was one of those desperate kisses, like he was trying to tell me something that we couldn’t put into words.
He dragged himself away from my lips, reaching behind me to grab a towel. He pulled out of my body, wiping my thighs and righting my underwear for me, the tender look on his face making my heart do wild shit in my chest.
His eyes traced my face, my hooded eyes and swollen lips, my braid a little wilder than when I walked in here.
His gaze moved down my body until they landed on the huge bruise on my thigh.
“You need to ice that,” he said softly, tucking himself back into his jeans and moving to the ice bucket, filling up a plastic bag and bringing it back to me.
He placed the cold ice on my overheated skin and I sucked in a breath.
He strapped it to my leg, and I gritted my teeth.
“Nugget…” he started, worry in his eyes.
“It’s okay, Beau. I wanted that. Don’t worry that I’m going to go full crazy on your ass and expect you to be my boyfriend.”
His slow smile made the butterflies reemerge in my gut. “Ah, Nugget. You were always so oblivious. I would happily be your man, but someone else loved you first.”
I screwed up my nose. “I told you me and Frankie aren’t together. I never would have done that if Frankie was anything more than a friend.”
Beau raised his eyebrow. “He said he loved you.”
I huffed, and even remembering him say those words made my chest feel funny. “He meant as a friend.”
This time Beau outright laughed at me. “You haven’t changed at all. Still blind to what's in front of your face. It’s one of the things that makes you so special. You just don’t know.”
I frowned. “Know what?”
“How fucking beautiful you are.”
He leaned forward and kissed me again, soft and tender. I was so fucking confused right now. “Beau…”
The door burst open and Frankie was there, the smile on his face wide.
He barrelled over a few paces before his steps slowed a little.
He looked at my face, inhaled deeply and frowned.
He looked between me and Beau, and his jaw tensed.
I might have imagined the flash of hurt that passed over his face, because it was gone the next second, replaced with the big smile again.
“You did it. You made the eight. You are all anyone can talk about out there.” He closed the distance between us in seconds, wrapping his arms around me and kissing my temple. “I am so proud of you.”
I smiled wide, the elation coming back to wrap around me. “Thanks, Frankie!”
He looked down at the bruise spreading along my thigh. “He got you good, Querida . At least you are getting the best of care, n?o ?’
Well, that confirmed it. Frankie knew that me and Beau had sex. Something churned in my gut, not guilt exactly, but some other kind of uncomfortable sensation, and I swallowed hard. I didn’t regret what I did with Beau, not even a little bit, but I never, ever wanted to hurt Frankie.
So I did what any sane woman would do, I played dumb and ignored the subcontext. I smiled brightly. “Yep, all strapped up. Just a bit of soft tissue, I should be okay to ride tomorrow.”
He gave a sharp smile to Beau, who just stared him down. “I just bet you are. Let’s get you home, Tessa. Get that leg in the air.”
Subtle Frankie. Real subtle. I let him help me to my feet and grab all my gear. As I walked out the door of the treatment room, I looked back over my shoulder at Beau. He was frowning again, so I gave him a quick smile and a wink.
I didn’t fuck riders, but I never said anything about a medic. This could be the beginning of something beautiful.
Frankie’s shoulders seemed tense, though he nodded and smiled at every person we passed. I just had to hope it wasn’t the ending of something beautiful too.