Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
RED
R owdy moves away from the wall, holding me in his arms as he makes his way to the bed. Lowering my feet gently to the soft, thick carpet, his cock slides out of me, and the cold air of the room hits my sweaty flesh. I feel instantly needy for him.
Despite my rapacious desire, I excuse myself to the bathroom to clean up, staring wide-eyed at the woman in the mirror. Naked and radiant with an unguarded smile and roses in her cheeks, I barely recognize her. But she looks happy, ridiculously incandescently, ecstatically happy, and I want to see more of her.
When I re-enter the bedroom, Rowdy stands by the bed waiting for me, a naked column of muscular perfection. His eyes exude warmth and tenderness, his face awash in a lazy grin that makes my throat tighten with longing. Will I ever get enough of this man? Pulling back the white goose-down duvet and ivory sheets, he invites me into his bed, climbing in behind me and wrapping his arms around me.
The room falls silent as he snuggles me, resting his chin on the top of my head. “What’s the verdict, Red? Do I fuck as good as I rope and ride?”
I laugh, bringing his hand to my mouth and tenderly kissing his fingertips one at a time. “It was alright.”
“Just alright?” he asks, his voice too raw for me to continue teasing.
Time for some unadulterated honesty. “Don’t let this go to your head or anything, cowboy. But that was the best sex of my life.”
“Thank God,” he says, with a gorgeous, deep-chested laugh. “Because it was the best sex of mine, too. By a long shot. You about ripped my heart out with that ‘alright’ statement.”
Oh, God. This is exactly what I don’t want to do… start talking about hearts .
Trying to keep things light, I add, “Now, about how it compared to your roping and riding? That’s an unfair question because you’re one of the best team ropers in the world.”
“Shoot, Red. You don’t have to lie to me. I know you never paid a lick of attention to my rodeoing.”
“How do you know that?” I retort, looking over my shoulder at him. “I watched your events on TV when I had the chance. Until you took up with that barrel-racing bitch… What was her name?”
“You mean Crystal?”
“Yeah, her,” I confirm with an unhappy nod. “No offense, but I could not stand watching you two suck face on camera…”
“That sounds like jealousy, Red,” he says, palming my breasts and licking and biting my ear until I shiver with delight.
“Maybe.”
“That’s how I felt about your dumbass ex, too, you know. He was never good enough for you. Not by a long shot. Speaking of that motherfucker, I’m still puzzled by something you said in the living room earlier.” His hands continue to knead and play with my nipples and breasts, making it impossible to concentrate.
“What?” I squeak.
His hands stop. “When you said the card was mean-spirited. Why would you care?”
“You congratulated him for dodging the bullet of being married to me. Tell me how that isn’t mean-spirited and hurtful?”
Clearing his throat, he says darkly, “Sometimes I wonder how you get things so twisted. No wonder you hate me. Red, I was congratulating him on making the right choice and dodging the bullet of me coming to New York City to beat the shit out of him for how he treated and disrespected you in the press. He never mentioned anything about me paying him a visit?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about…”
He explains, “I know I shouldn’t have butted in, but your divorce was highly publicized, and everyone knew about his infidelities. It was inexcusable, Red. So, I paid him a personal visit a little over seven months ago in New York, and I gave him three options—quit fucking around with other women and reconcile with you, finalize the divorce and quit wasting your money and time, or prepare to have more than his face rearranged.”
“I can’t believe you did that,” I stammer, the backs of my eyes stinging. “Thinking back on it now, I do remember Roger derisively mentioning seeing one of my hick friends in New York. But he never said it was you. He sure did give me a quick divorce after that, though.”
“Because I wasn’t playing,” the cowboy grumbles. “I hope you can forgive me. I know you hate people messing in your business, but I couldn’t put up with it any longer. Nobody hurts my girl. And I mean that whether you want to act like my sister, my friend, a total fucking stranger, my enemy, or my lover. You will always be my girl, and I won’t let anyone hurt you if I have any say in the matter.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper. “You’re far too good for someone like me.”
“That’s not true, Lesley. Not at all. But if we’re being honest, I have been disappointed by something over the years, and I need to get it off my chest.”
His words flood me with foreboding. “Maybe we should save this for another night. We are buzzed and naked and wiped out from crazy sex. This is no time for a deep conversation.”
“I have to say this while I have the chance. Before you run back to New York and forget about me and your family again.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because that’s what you do. Ask your parents. Ask your brother. Ask everyone in this goddamn town. You turned your backs on all of us to pursue your hoity-toity, big-city dreams, never giving any of us a second thought.”
“That is not true,” I counter, my cheeks flushing.
“So, you watched Billy and me occasionally on ESPN, whoopty fuckin’ doo. How many invitations did I send you to watch us live? We wanted to share our wins with you…our PRCA Championship. The after-parties were off the hook, and I wanted you there. But you never came. Not once. Hell, you didn’t even tell us you weren’t coming. Like those invitations meant nothing to you.”
I shake my head, frowning. “Like you would have come to one of my fashion shows…”
“You never asked,” he says quietly.
“Well, if I’m such an awful person, why the hell do you want anything to do with me now?” The last thing I need is a guilt trip from somebody I’m still actively fucking over.
“How can you even ask me something like that? You act like we’re strangers sometimes. I don’t get it.”
“More like enemies. And might I remind you, this began as a hate fuck… in your own words , not lovemaking. You trying to muddy the waters after the fact isn’t fair.”
“Then, you are planning on running away again despite being a half-owner of Jameson & Cash…and despite tonight. I thought so,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice.
“Maybe I should go now…before things get any weirder between us,” I say, trying to stir from the bed. But he holds me like a precious jewel.
“Nope, you’re all mine tonight. No matter what. I’ll quit fucking talking…and thinking… It’s just…”
Uncertain I want to know, curiosity gets the better of me. “It’s just what?”
“You’re not going to like what I have to say…”
“Then, don’t say it,” I scold tenderly, turning in his arms and kissing him.
I tangle my fingers in his thick, black bedhead hair, savoring his large periwinkle eyes and his unshaven cheeks. “But?—”
“No.” I kiss him again, my lips feathering over his. “We don’t need to talk.” I stroke his stubbly cheek, making a scratchy sound with my nails and admiring him for a long moment.
I wish our engagement were real…
The realization smacks into me hard, yet there’s no denying my feelings. I need Rowdy. I need the comfortable, satisfied, safe feelings he instills in me… I’ve missed him, Alpha Ridge Creek, and my family more than I care to admit. Can I really let go of them again?
But he’s too good for me. If he knew half the horrible things I’ve done to get ahead…he’d never look at me the same. And that’s not even mentioning the current situation with Pharrell. Wrapping his big, strong arms around me, he grins, “Alright, no more talking for tonight. Just kissing and loving.”
His thick rod firms against my leg as his lips melt into mine, his hot tongue thrusting suggestively between my lips. My breath catches in my throat, and now I’m the one inching back to speak. “What’s the worst thing you could ever imagine doing to save your company?” I grill him.
Taken aback by the unexpected question, his brows furrow, and he lies back on his pillow, looking at the ceiling. “The worst thing?” He side-eyes me, grimacing. “Is this a trick question to ensure I’m a dedicated enough business partner?”
I shake my head, the corners of my mouth turning down. If only that were the case.
“Umm…”
“Alright. Maybe that’s too specific. What’s the worst thing you can think of doing ever , Rowdy?”
Turning back towards me, he palms my cheek, staring intensely into my eyes. “Murder. That’s the worst thing I can think of doing.”
“Murder?” I ask, my eyebrows arching.
“Well, it’s not like I’ve done it or anything. Don’t freak out, Red. But yeah, murder. There’s two people I’ve seriously contemplated killing.”
“Okay,” I nod.
“My father?—”
“Your father?” I gasp.
“Yeah, he was a bad man. Beat the shit out of me more times than I can count. Do you remember that time I went to the hospital? When I was nine?”
I nod. “He beat me to a pulp for helping Billy toilet paper Mrs. Manchester’s place. I thought you were the one who snitched on me, and that’s why I mercilessly pranked you later. Now, looking back, I understand the man had a black fucking soul, and drinking brought out the devil in him. Fortunately, that beating—despite the broken arm, the broken nose, and the two black eyes—made your dad step up and confront my piece of shit father. And that’s why I got to start living at your place.”
“Really?” I ask, searching his face. “I remember you with your cast and your bruised face. It was awful to see you like that. But you told me you fell down the stairs.”
“I had plenty of lies like that to cover up for my father.”
Dangerously close to tears, I stare into his beautiful blue eyes, remembering the boy he was. How could anyone hurt a child like that? But I remember how terrifying his dad was, so it doesn’t totally shock me. Fighting back the tears trying to form, I whisper, “And for the record, I never snitched on you. Your dad scared me way too much to talk to.”
“With good reason,” he growls. The muscle in his jaw jumps, and his eyes narrow. “I’m sorry, by the way.”
“For what?”
He strokes my cheek with a pensive smile. “For assuming you snitched on me and then holding a grudge.”
“And?” I arch an eyebrow.
He frowns, shaking his head.
I nudge him. “Don’t you think it’s about time you apologize for all your stupid practical jokes? You tortured the hell out of me, Rowdy.”
“Hell, nah. Teasing you was the highlight of my childhood,” he says with a hearty laugh.
I smack his shoulder, immediately regretting the move. It’s rock hard, and my fingers sting.
“A boy needs his jokes and a man his pleasures, Red. Fortunately for you, I’m far more interested in that sweet pussy of yours than any laugh I might have at your expense.”
“Good thing,” I say, running my fingertips over his unshaven cheeks savoring the scratchy masculine sound.
“So that’s motherfucker number one on my kill list. As for two, that would be your ex.”
“Roger?”
“Yes. Depending on how he wanted to play things with you after I confronted him, the bullet would have been anything but a metaphor…or something he could dodge. And the ‘Congratulations’ card would have been displayed at his funeral.”
“And you would have been behind bars for life,” I add.
He shrugs. “The bastard had it coming.”
I shake my head. “He wasn’t worth your time. Still isn’t.”
“He wasn’t worth yours either. I despised how he dragged you through the mud and disrespected you publicly. And the way he tried to capitalize on your divorce, stealing everything you worked so hard to build. It was and still is unforgivable in my book.”
My stomach twists. What else is unforgivable in Rowdy’s book?
“Enough talking. I have better things to do with my mouth.” He declares, lifting the duvet to crawl under it.
“You are not seriously going down on me again…” My eyes round in disbelief.
He chuckles deep in his chest. “I’m tired of talking about murder, and you don’t want to discuss anything else. So, yeah, this is how I’m fixing to keep my mouth busy.”
He disappears beneath the blankets, igniting an instant, painful throb between my legs. Leisurely, the cowboy covers my body in open-mouthed kisses, tracing and teasing my flesh with his tongue and savoring me like a precious treasure. No man has ever treated me this way before.
I gasp when he suckles my breasts one at a time, using his right hand to caress and please the other as his left hand descends lower, his fingertips gliding almost imperceptibly over the flesh of my abdomen and making me tremble with overpowering need.
“Oh, God, Ronald,” I moan, my eyes rolling back in my head. “I need you so fucking much.” Tracing the sensual path left by his fingers with his mouth, he descends to my abdomen, all the time letting his hands rove over my legs and hips, covering my core in delicious sparks of electricity. When he reaches my mound, he places a solitary kiss at the top, pausing as my need mounts, and I beg for release.
With a dark laugh, his big, rough hands spread my legs, covering me in bliss-filled caresses before his wicked mouth paints my inner thighs in more incinerating kisses. He teases me until my hips arch upward, begging for satisfaction.
My pussy drips, slick and silky with need. A high-pitched cry escapes me at the first swirl of his wickedly skillful tongue around my pearl, and the world and its cares dissolve around me. It’s just Ronald and me, swimming in unadulterated ecstasy.
He invades my pussy unapologetically, lapping and licking me into complete surrender. He could ask for anything, and I would give it to him without hesitation.
Instead, he demands my pleasure again and again until my head swims with stars, and my heart bursts. I bury my hand beneath the blanket, tangling my fingers in his thick black hair, holding him at the center of my rapture.
Suddenly stopping and sitting up between my legs, he throws the covers back, exclaiming with a boyish grin, “And for the record, Lesley, you are anything but frigid.”
“I’m on fire, thanks to you,” I pant, relieved to feel the cool air of the room touch my naked skin.
“Don’t you forget who makes you this happy,” he reminds me with a fake reprimanding look—one that radiates tender emotion—shouldering between my legs and making me scream some more.