Wild Nights Read online

Page 8


  That had been four hours ago. Wild Nights was closed today, so she had an entire day off to do whatever she wanted. She made it a point to take at least one day a week completely and totally away from the club, and that meant mentally, too. Not even paperwork. She was free to lie around relaxing, read a good book or get out and do some shopping.

  After she took a shower and slipped on jeans and a sweater, she sat at the table with her cup of coffee and a bagel, trying to decide how to spend the day. Her mind refused to cooperate. It was filled with thoughts of Mike. Mike’s hands on her, his head between her legs, his thick, hot cock inside her.

  Yeah, she knew exactly what she wanted to do today. And when the outside elevator monitor buzzed and Mike’s voice came through, she was shocked at the giddy excitement coursing through her.

  For the love of God, she wasn’t sixteen. Yet she did run into the bathroom and check her hair while he was coming up the elevator.

  Brainless twit. She really had to get over this infatuation she had with him. Grace Wylde did not moon over men, dammit!

  Okay, maybe she did, because when the elevator door opened and he walked out, she tried swallowing and it didn’t work. Her throat had gone dry. Because he was rolling toward her wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots, a button-down shirt and a cowboy hat.

  Oh. My. God. The hat was tipped down low over his brow, shading his forehead and lending him that movie-star dark-and-dangerous look. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark stubble across his jaw only added to the sexy allure.

  Holy cow. She’d seen her share of cowboys belly up to the bar at Wild Nights, but Mike was a natural, born and bred to the jeans, the boots and the cowboy hat. All he needed was a holster loaded with two six-shooters and some spurs and she’d probably have an orgasm on the spot.

  He stopped in front of her, swept his hat off and pulled her into his arms. No, he dragged her into his arms, planting a long, slow kiss on her lips that left her bone-meltingly drugged.

  Dayum.

  “Mornin’,” he said when he released her, laying his hat on her kitchen table.

  She was speechless. It took a couple swallows past the dry desert in her throat to find her voice. “Good morning. You look…Wow.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Would you like some coffee?” Tea? Her, naked and spread-eagled just about anywhere?

  “No, I’m fine. Actually, I’m here to take you on an adventure, if you don’t have plans today.”

  “I have no plans. What did you have in mind?” Her, naked and spread-eagled somewhere she hoped. Way to go with the one-track mind, Grace.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “Uh, okay. Should I change?”

  He looked at her. “No, you’re perfect. Put on some socks and boots and bring a jacket.”

  She had a date. Holy shit, she had a date. She never dated. This was kind of exciting.

  An hour later she wasn’t sure if she was more excited or terrified as she faced down her very first horse. Probably equal parts of both. Mike had driven them outside Las Vegas to a ranch that catered to private horseback riding tours. They were in the mountains, an area she’d never seen. Actually it was a rocky canyon surrounded by red-colored hills, peppered with brush and tall cactus. The sun warmed the area and kept the early morning chill away.

  The ranch was huge, filled with horses and cattle and fenced farther than her eyes could follow. Mike told her it was thousands of acres. She felt like a little kid, turning her head from side to side after they’d parked and got out. She didn’t know which way to look. A working ranch, it was owned by one of the veterinarians Mike’d met at the conference, who agreed to let them saddle up a couple of the horses and ride the property.

  She was about to mount and ride her very first horse.

  “They sure look a lot bigger in real life than they do in the movies,” she said, sizing up the horse in front of her. A chestnut mare, Mike had told her. The horse looked skittish and about as nervous as she was.

  “You grew up in Kentucky. How can you not know horses?” Mike asked, a teasing glint in his eyes as he smiled down at her.

  She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “City girl. Never been around them in my life. Never went to the Derby, either, because I know that’s your next question.”

  He laughed. “Don’t be scared. These horses are well trained. She won’t buck or run off with you. All you have to do is get up on there and learn a few simple commands.”

  Not being one to back away from a challenge, Grace was game, and pretty excited about having the chance to do something she’d never tried before.

  So she stared up at the giant beast and the stirrup that was as high as her chest, trying to figure out how to do this without falling on her ass and making a complete fool of herself.

  “Let me help you. Grab the saddle horn while I lift you. Slide your left foot into the stirrup, then swing your other leg over,” Mike said, putting his hands around her waist. He lifted and she grabbed and swung just as he told her. She was on! The horse hadn’t even budged, either. Once settled, she smoothed her hands over the horse’s coat, loving the warm, rough texture against her hands.

  Mike adjusted the stirrups for the length of her legs, showed her how to hold the reins and what signals to give to make the horse move forward, left and right, and stop. He explained those were pretty much the only commands she’d need to know. Easy enough. This, she could handle.

  If seeing Mike walking into her house dressed like a cowboy was devastating to her female senses, seeing him on a horse was nearly fatal. When he mounted and pulled up alongside her, a grin showcasing his dazzling white teeth against his tanned face, her heart took a fast tumble.

  Wow, the man was truly a specimen of rugged beauty, just like the backdrop of the Mojave Desert.

  They took off down a well-worn trail, away from the hustling activity of the main ranch and toward the towering canyon walls. The day was beautiful, the scenery incredibly gorgeous. Crisp, clean air, not a glittering light or another person in sight. Only Joshua trees, cactus, brush and birds overhead. It was breathtaking.

  They must have ridden for about an hour when Mike stopped, dismounted and helped her off her horse.

  “I don’t want to ride you too long. You’ll get sore.”

  She’d lost all track of time and could have ridden the rest of the day. The morning chill was gone and she was warming considerably. They’d stopped on the other side of the canyon, the towering, smooth, red-rocked sides surrounding them.

  Mike tethered their horses to a nearby tree and reached into his saddle bag for a couple bottles of water. “Not wine, but it’ll have to do. Drink?”

  “I’d love one.”

  He laid out a blanket on a smooth patch of thin grass, a fast-moving stream flowing alongside them. They sat and Grace drank while listening to the sounds of rushing water and birds overhead.

  It was amazing. She’d never felt more relaxed or had a better time on her day off. “I’ve never been out here. In fact, I didn’t even know places like this existed.”

  “They do. Most of us never see what’s in our own backyards.”

  She laughed. “True enough. We get too busy, wrap ourselves around our own little world and stay within our comfort zone. Thank you for bringing me out here.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m glad I did. You look beautiful in sunlight.”

  “Thank you.” She warmed under his scrutiny, realizing that while she was extremely knowledgeable about sex, she had very little dating experience. Outside her element, she didn’t know how to handle men. Or at least she hadn’t yet figured out how to handle Mike.

  Maybe she should stop trying. Maybe she should just touch him, kiss him and make love to him for whatever time they had together and stop trying to figure him out. She screwed the top back on the water bottle and laid it down, then leaned across the blanket, rubbing her palm across his jaw.

  “I love that unshaven look you
’re sporting today. It’s very sexy.”

  He arched a brow and rubbed his cheek against her hand. “Really. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Yes, really. Makes you look very rugged and outdoorsy.”

  “Does that make you hot?”

  She laughed. “I think we’ve determined that pretty much everything about you makes me hot.”

  In a second she was dragged across the blanket and onto his lap, his arms around her. “I make you hot, huh?”

  God, he really was gorgeous. Even without the dark stubble and the sunglasses and the cowboy hat, he’d still make her wet. But the whole package was incredibly stimulating. “Want me to show you how hot?”

  The wicked upward turn of his lips was her answer. “Go right ahead.”

  “Just how…remote, are we?” she asked, squeezing the muscles of his upper arm, loving the feel of being caged within them.

  “Remote enough for you to do whatever you want. I told Carl where we were headed. He said his hands were working up north today. We’re south. Completely alone.”

  She rubbed his face again, the sensation across her palm sending little shocks between her legs. “Alone, huh? So I can do anything I want to you?”

  “Anything you want, babe.”

  She slid off his lap. “Lean back and stretch out your legs.”

  Mike didn’t know what Grace planned, but he was more than willing to put his body in her hands. Her eyes sparkled with devilish delight and he forced back a laugh at the eager way she licked her lips.

  He rested his upper body on his elbows and slid his legs out straight. She maneuvered herself to his side and flipped over onto her stomach, her head at his hip. When she began toying with his belt buckle, he had a pretty good idea what she had in mind.

  So did his cock. A rush of heat flooded there, hardening him. Her eyes widened as the bulge grew against the denim.

  “I haven’t even touched you yet.” Her gaze flitted from his crotch to his face.

  “You don’t need to touch me. My mind is already there.”

  “Hmph,” she said, her mouth affecting a cute little pout. “I might simply intend to lay my head in your lap and quote Shakespeare’s sonnets.”

  “Baby, if you lay your head in my lap your mouth is going to be too full to talk.”

  She snorted. “You’re rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Are you saying I’m wrong about your intent?”

  She shrugged, undoing his belt buckle. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  She didn’t say another word, just popped the button open and drew the zipper down. When her knuckles brushed his erection, he sucked in a breath. Christ, she wasn’t even touching bare skin yet and heat burned through his jeans. Good thing there was a cool breeze to go with the warm sun, because Grace was burning him alive and his cock wasn’t even free of his jeans.

  “Lift,” she commanded. He did, and she jerked his jeans down, freeing his erection. It sprang up, hard and ready. Her hands were on him before he’d even settled back down. She wrapped her palms around his shaft and stroked upward, then down, seemingly fascinated with watching the skin move over the head of his cock.

  He, on the other hand, was trying to maintain control and not erupt all over her in seconds. She had magical hands and knew just how to stroke him, squeezing as she reached the head, rolling her thumb over the soft crest and eliciting drops of fluid that she swirled around with the pad of her thumb.

  Though he’d always enjoyed having a woman touch him, this was different. Grace was different. At the moment, he couldn’t stop to examine why. And her touch was a sweet balm across his tortured flesh, her warm breath a teasing caress that nearly shattered his control. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the blanket as she bent low and licked his balls, the sensation so overpowering he shuddered.

  He jerked in response, his hips rising, giving her access as her hands glided along his flesh, her tongue doing a magical dance with the sac below. She murmured against him, a vibration that made him weak in the knees. He was glad he wasn’t standing or he’d have embarrassed himself.

  She looked up at him, her braided hair falling over her shoulder. He reached for the band holding it and pulled it off, unwinding the strands so her hair blew free in the wind, falling against her face. He wrapped it around his hand and fisted it, jerking her toward his swollen cock head.

  He’d never needed a woman’s mouth on him more than he needed Grace’s. He needed it and now.

  “Suck me, Grace. Wrap those sweet lips around my cock and suck me.”

  TEN

  The musky scent of Mike’s arousal encompassed Grace’s senses, his hands in her hair telling her how much he needed her.

  So hot. So incredibly erotic, her mouth just a fraction of an inch from the wide, swollen head of his cock. She shot him a sidelong glance; his jaw was set, his chest heaving as he panted and she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

  But who was the victor here? Her body was on fire, her nipples hard and tingling as they pressed against the soft fabric of her sweater. Her pussy was damp with desire and the denim rubbing against her was only stoking the flame. She wanted to fling off her clothes and impale herself on his cock, pinch her nipples and ride him to a quick, satisfying orgasm.

  Not yet. Not until she teased him a bit. And herself, too. The buildup would be so worth it.

  “Grace.”

  Mike’s tone was a warning, a message that if she didn’t do it voluntarily, he was going to push. She thrilled to his dominance, wondering how far she was willing to press it. She moved against his hand to lift her head so he could see her face.

  Then she licked her lips.

  “Goddammit.” He tugged at her hair and the sweet pain made her clit tingle. Taking control, he jerked his hips upward and pushed her mouth over his cock. She smiled as she took the head between her lips, her tongue snaking out to wrap around the crest and lap at the drops of pearly fluid gathered there.

  He tasted hot and spicy. She covered the head with her tongue, feeling it pulse, so alive with a soft strength and a maddening allure. She engulfed him then, taking him deep, as far as she could, swirling her tongue around him as she swallowed him.

  “Christ, Grace,” he murmured, tangling his hands in her hair now, holding onto the sides of her head to pump his cock into her mouth with rhythmic strokes. She raised up on her knees to bob up and down over his shaft, using her hands to stroke the base while she sucked him, wanting to pleasure him like no woman ever had. She cupped his balls, feeling them tighten within her grasp.

  She wanted him to come in her mouth, needed to have that part of him inside her. With relentless pursuit she went after what she sought, stroking and squeezing, loving the power she held within her hands and mouth, the way he jerked underneath her, rising up to meet her as she tightened her grip and massaged the soft head with her tongue and mouth.

  “Oh yeah, baby. Just like that,” he murmured, jabbing his cock upward, driving with hard thrusts into the back of her throat. She felt the hot, salty burst as he let go with a hard groan, erupting, flooding her mouth with his come. She swallowed, the taste of him making her hot, wet and desperate to be fucked.

  She held on to him until he stopped shuddering, but he still stroked her hair. A damp sheen of sweat coated the skin of his thighs and stomach as she let go of his shaft and glanced up at him.

  “Damn,” was all he said before dragging her across his chest to plant a hot, long kiss on her mouth. He slid his tongue inside and licked at hers, kissing her with such force she moaned and crawled into his lap, needing to be closer. Now it was her turn to latch onto his hair, rocking her pelvis against his quickly rehardening cock. Because as much as she could kiss him all day out here in the breezy sunshine, she wanted more. And he had to know that.

  He pulled his mouth from hers. “You want me, Grace?”

  “You know I do.” She reached between them to stroke his cock. “Give it to me.”

  H
e grasped her wrist and pulled it behind her, latching onto her mouth again and driving her crazy with a kiss that was filled with passion, with promise. It was meant to torment, to seduce, but she was well past the point of foreplay. She needed him inside her. Having his cock in her mouth, swallowing his taste—such an incredibly intimate act, it made her yearn to get closer to him—closer than even this. And he was keeping her from it.

  She whimpered against his mouth, tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. Passion erupted as a violent force. A new game—one of force and take—one she was more than willing to play. She tore her mouth away. “Let me go.”

  He didn’t. Instead, he rolled her onto her back, pinning her there with his strength. “You don’t really want me to let you go.”

  Arousal fired her nerve endings. She searched for a vulnerable spot, finding his hand near her head, and bit down on it. He growled, but didn’t release her, instead pulled her arms above her head and lifted her sweater, exposing her bra. Without preamble he bent down and captured the peak of one breast between his teeth, nipping at the quickly responding nipple through the thin fabric. It hardened, an exquisite sensation shooting between her legs and dampening her further.

  But she struggled, trying to throw him off—a senseless effort, but fun nonetheless. Who knew that trying to fight against him could be so incredibly arousing? She tried not to laugh, but it was difficult, especially considering how easily he held her down. With any other man she’d be scared to death. With Mike, she knew it was just a game. If she got serious about it and asked him to stop, she knew he would.

  She sure as hell didn’t want him to stop. She was stimulated beyond the ability to think rationally. Instead, she bucked up against him, inflaming her senses and, apparently, his. He tore at the button and zipper of her jeans, jerking the denim down her thighs and to her ankles. He dragged her to a sitting position, with one hand holding both her wrists together, and pulled her boots off, then her jeans, pushing her to the ground again. She continued to struggle against him to no avail. He was really strong.

 

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