My Baby’s Guns N Roses
My Baby’s Guns N Roses
CASH
SEPTEMBER
Ollie Ravenwood might as well be a siren, and I was the dumbass sailor being lured to his death. Because there was no doubt about it, this woman would be the death of me.
I hadn’t even fucked her and I knew I was done for.
But what was even more unexpected, was that I didn’t want to just fuck her. I mean, I did. Man, I really did. But I wanted more than that. I wanted more than a hook up. Let’s be real, there wasn’t any way I’d get my fill from just one night of Ollie.
Call me stupid, call me whipped, but I knew without a doubt that one night with this woman was going to change me. For better or worse, I didn’t know, but I was bound and determined to find out.
I had to play my cards right, though. I had to play her game. Ollie was like a wild horse, terrified at the idea of being corralled, wanting freedom and wide open spaces to run when things got tough. I was going to have to be smart if I wanted any chance at not scaring her off.
My heart pounded in my chest like a wild stampede, drowning out the sound of my boots as I led her through the rodeo grounds.
“Cash, where are we going?” she asked again, her smoky voice making my heart thump faster.
I glanced over my shoulder and grinned. “Quiet, sugar, don’t wanna wake anyone up,” I said, dragging her along behind me, holding onto her hand like it was a lifeline. Like if I let go of her she’d cease to exist altogether.
The rodeo grounds were all but abandoned at the late hour, but people were nosy and I didn’t need anyone coming to investigate, especially since what I planned to do was maybe…
possibly illegal—somewhat. But something told me this was something the little hellcat following along behind me would appreciate. And I lived to please.
She cursed under her breath, but followed along.
Adrenaline and the remnants of my buzz drove me onward until the main arena building came into view. Checking to make sure there was no security detail walking around, I hurried over toward the doors to the main entrance and pulled on the latch.
The door wiggled, but didn’t give way. Locked.
Well, fuck.
“Here, move.” Ollie brushed past me and knelt before the door, reaching into her back pocket. She pulled out a set of bobby pins and got to work. How or why she had them was beyond me. Her brows furrowed, her mouth drawing into a thin line as she focused on the door. God, she was fucking hot.
Little wild child over here.
She rose from her crouch a moment later, a smirk drawing on her lips as she pulled on the door and it opened on silent hinges. “You’re drooling, Big Daddy.”
I probably was, and I didn’t even care. “H–how?”
Biting her lip, she grabbed me and pulled me down for a quick kiss. “It’s not that hard. I did it all the time growing up.” She nodded toward the open door. “Hurry up before someone comes around.”
She was so interesting. Every crumb of information she dropped about herself made me want more. But right now wasn’t the time for that.
Ever the gentleman—since Mama raised me right—I held the door and waved a hand. “After you, sugar.”
She snorted, her eyes rolling even as a beautiful smile lit up her face. It wasn’t a smirk or one of those coy grins she typically gave. This one was bright and genuine and unfiltered. It reminded me of the first ray of sun peaking through the clouds after a thunderstorm.
I couldn’t help it, I grabbed her neck gently and tugged her toward me, capturing her mouth in mine.
Everything about this woman was a high I never wanted to come down from. More than broncs. More than riding.
Ollie Ravenwood might just be my new favorite addiction.
“Come on, dipshit,” she crooned, breaking the kiss. “I’m not about to get cockblocked by the security guard.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured, following her into the building.
The place was dark and quiet. Completely opposite of the cacophony and commotion that took place earlier.
My eyes didn’t take long to adjust, and I led her quickly away from the glass doors.
The concession stand and a handful of vendor booths were still set up for the finals tomorrow, but it may as well be a ghost town now.
“You seem pretty laid back for breaking and entering. I’m guessing this isn’t your first rodeo?” She huffed, a soft little thrum of laughter escaping her. “Get it…rodeo.”
God, she was such a dork, but I kind of loved that. I loved that there was no filter on her. That she just said and did what she wanted, consequences be damned.
“Real clever,” I hummed, noticing an abandoned table. Grabbing the table cloth off it, I led Ollie off to the left, toward one of the entrances into the arena.
Every second that ticked by left my heart racing. Faster. Wilder. Out of control.
Except I was in control right now. The rush of my buzz had faded, desire roaring in its place. My boots sank a bit in the sand as I aimed us toward the center of the arena. Dropping her hand and her bag, I spread the table cloth over the dirt.
“Look at you,” she crooned as she watched on. “How chivalrous you are.”
I turned to look at her. Fuck, even with most of her cast in shadows she was a sight to behold. “Only the best for you, sugar.”
She reached out her hand and crooked a finger at me, her low, sultry laugh bouncing off the arena walls and echoing around. “Shut up and kiss me.”
Any shred of chivalry within me died in that moment as I surged toward her, picking her up in my arms. Her hands snaked around my neck, fingers knotting into my hair as she wrapped her legs around me.
My cowboy hat fell to the ground, forgotten.
Our mouths clashed, our tongues dancing against one another as she pulled me closer.
Sliding my hands up the backs of her thighs, I squeezed her ass and groaned.
“Fuck, you feel good,” I murmured against her lips.
She smelled and tasted good too. Like citrus and tequila. My own personal brand of poison, specifically made to wreck me.
“It’s gonna take more than a kiss and a few sweet words to make me fall for you.” Even in the darkness, mischief swirled in her mismatched eyes and her words were a breathy whisper. “I don’t know if you’re up for the task, Big Daddy.”
Fuck me. The way she said it... I know it was meant to be an insult. A challenge, but damn…she could call me anything she wanted and I’d crawl on my knees all for a single taste of her.
A chuckle reverberated in my chest as I traced up the curve of her hips, along her ribcage, before settling over one of her tits.
“Don’t worry, sugar.” I squeezed, relishing in the hiss that escaped her.
Brushing my lips against hers in the ghost of a kiss, I whispered, “I’m just gettin’ warmed up. ”
The grin that twisted up on her lips was positively wicked, feral, as she dropped her hand between us and settled it on my cock. “Seems like you’re more than a bit warmed up to me.”
She was right. I’d been warmed up all damn day, hoping, praying, waiting for a taste of her. From the time she slid into the backseat of the truck looking like sin incarnate, to the moment I placed my hat on her head. Or when she’d told off Kelsea, and snuffed Bodi. Fuck, all of it.
“What can I say? You do wicked things to me.”
“Then show me,” she crooned.
I knew in that moment I was fucked. Screwed. Done for. “Gladly.”
I claimed her mouth in mine, and in a quick, fluid movement, laid her down on the fabric.
I broke away for one slow moment, just to take her in.
All shadows and sin wrapped up in tan skin and tattoos.
Leaning down, I kissed her once more, then the curve of her jaw, then the place where her ear and neck connected, before brushing my lips down along the column of her throat.
She purred like a hellcat when I bit at her collarbone, but her words were sharp as knives as she growled out.
“Stop fucking around, Cash. I don’t want gentle.
I don’t want soft and sweet. I don't want to be wooed. I want hard. Fast. Wild.”
I grinned. Now she was speaking my language. “Well, aren’t you just a demandin’ little thing?” I unbuttoned her shorts, dipping my hand beneath her lacy underwear, my fingers rolling over her clit. “Fuck, you’re so damn wet, sugar.”
She arched beneath me, grabbing a fistful of my shirt as she dragged her mouth to mine. Crushing. Brutal. She was all anger and passion and grit. She loved the way she lived. Reckless. Free.
And I wanted more.
I pulled away only long enough to pull her top down and pop one of her tits out before sucking her nipple into my mouth. My tongue rolled over the peaked bud before I bit down. Her hiss of pleasure sent a ripple of need straight to my cock. Fuck, it hurt so goddamn good. She felt so goddamn good.
I slipped a finger inside her, then another, while brushing my thumb over her clit. Ollie clung to me, fingernails digging into my shoulder blades. Hard. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to ride that line between pleasure and pain.
Hell yeah.
Her hips rolled and bucked on my hand as I slid my fingers in and out of her tight pussy.
And then she pulled back, her tit popping out of my mouth as she whispered a single word that drove me wild. “More.”
All sense abandoned me. All control.
“Sit on my face, sugar.” The words spilled out of me before I could think.
A heartbeat passed. Two. And then her eyes ignited. Twin flames boring into me with an intensity I’d never felt ever before in my life. I could practically feel the heat between us.
She and I…we were like fire and gasoline. A bright, deadly combination.
“Say it again, Big Daddy,” she hummed, biting her bottom lip. “I want you to beg.”
Beg.
I’d never begged in my life. Never needed to. I’d had plenty of people beg for me. Plead for me…this, well, this was a first.
But as many women as I’d been with, I’d never met a single like her. Not even Dakota.
My cock throbbed in the confines of my jeans. Somehow, the demand on her pretty little lips made me want her all the more. “Ride my fuckin’ face, Ollie. Please.”
Enchanted. I had to be. Or maybe I was just so starved for sex that I’d say or do just about anything right now. I, somehow, doubted that though.
Ollie’s mouth crooked up into a wicked lovely grin as she urged me onto my back. Not even a full breath later she slipped out of her shorts and lacy thong. But then she paused, eying me with an intensity I couldn’t quite make sense of. Was she second guessing herself? Backing out?
And even though I wanted to offer her some assurance, something told me this woman didn’t have a praise kink like others.
Dear God, I hope I’m right with this. “Come on, sugar, be a good little whore and sit on Big Daddy’s face. Bet’cha can’t last longer than eight seconds.”
Her answering laugh sent shivers through me. And like the good little whore she was, she did just as I asked.