Rodeo Heat Read online

  She couldn’t tell if it was her heartbeat or his banging so hard against her chest. The sound of air being dragged with raw intensity into starved lungs echoed in the room and the artificial air cooled their sweat-slicked bodies.

  It could have been five minutes or an hour before Ben pushed himself up on his forearms and slid gently from her body, her inner muscles protesting the loss of the thick shaft they’d grasped so tightly.

  “Be right back,” he whispered. “Let me just get rid of this.”

  He moved carefully off the bed, his feet barely whispering over the carpet as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. Grace closed her eyes, boneless in the aftermath of such complete satisfaction.

  But if she thought Ben was finished with her, she was completely mistaken. Warm lips pressed a light kiss to her mouth and large, calloused hands slid beneath her body, lifting her as if she were totally weightless.

  “Shower time,” Ben murmured in her ear and carried her toward the bathroom.

  He couldn’t believe how good it felt just to hold her. Her satiny skin was so smooth to his touch he wanted to stroke it forever. He’d had to tear himself away from her breasts, warm pillows that a man could fall asleep on. Her thighs were so lush he could sink into them forever. And her pussy. Oh, Jesus. Tight and wet and holding him in a hot grip. It took every ounce of control to hang on to his climax until she was ready.

  Her anxiety was so evident he’d wanted to just cradle her in his arms and tell her not to worry. She needed to be eased into this, coaxed, gently led step by step. His brain knew it, but his body didn’t. The sight of her naked stole his breath away. He took complete leave of his senses and all he could think of was tasting every corner of her body and finally being inside her.

  And hadn’t that been the most glorious experience. Holy Christ. She tasted like every kind of sin and pleasure in the world and felt like it, too.

  How could he find the best way to tell her that the women he’d been having disconnected sex with—and that was all it was these days—had starved themselves and over-exercised to where they were nothing but hard muscle and bones? It was like taking a piece of stone to bed and worrying all the time if one push would break every bone in your body or cut into your skin. Grace was sexy, ripe and mature with the right curves.

  Her age had never entered the equation, not as far as he was concerned. His past made him feel older and far more used up than her forty-four years. Besides that, there was something so fresh and appealing about her, something that chiseled at the rock where his heart lay.

  Sex with her was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Glorious. Fulfilling. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he actually lost himself in the act and it was so much more than he’d hoped for. All he’d wanted was one night with her, but now he knew it wouldn’t be close to enough. The list of things he wanted to do to her—with her— unreeled endlessly in his mind. The trick would be to convince her.

  And to find out how hard and how far he could push her.

  At least for the time he was here. He’d make that perfectly clear. But, Jesus, he wanted her in his bed every one of those nights.

  He turned on the water in the shower enclosure, waited until it had reached the right temperature then stepped inside, still holding Grace. Her head was leaning on his shoulder, her eyes closed, and he wondered if she’d fallen asleep. But when he set her on her feet, she opened her eyes and quirked her mouth in a sly little smile.

  “Is this where I get to wash your body?”

  “Uh-uh, darlin’. This is where I get to rub soap bubbles all over yours, paying careful attention to all the tempting crevices.”

  “No fair,” she told him. “I want to have fun, too.”

  “Oh, trust me.” He licked the edges of her mouth then sipped gently from her shower-misted lips. “You’ll have plenty of that. I promise you.”

  He turned her slowly beneath the soft spray until her skin glistened with drops of water, then took the soap and worked up a thick lather with his hands.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded. “Just enjoy.”

  He took his time working the soap into her skin, starting with her shoulders then moving down her arms to her wrists. When he locked his soapy fingers with hers, a strange feeling danced through him, one he did not want to identify. Sex, he told himself. I want to have sex with this woman again and again. Sex. Just sex. Anything else would open a gate to a road he’d ridden before and still had the scars to prove it.

  Her skin was soft and supple, not hard and overused like most of the women he’d taken to his bed. Her hips flared out from the indentation of her waist and her thighs were firm and full. Even her ankles and knees were tempting and exciting.

  He nearly lost his concentration when he applied the foaming bubbles to the rounded cheeks of her ass, trailing his fingers through the cleft and pausing just for an instant at the tiny opening of her anus. God, how he’d love to fuck her there. To plunge his cock into that hot, dark tunnel and ride her until she screamed her completion. He wondered if anyone had ever breeched that opening or if he could be the first. If she’d let him. His cock hardened at the images that conjured up in his mind.

  “Turn around,” he told her in a thick voice.

  Leaning her against the shower wall, he began the application of soapy lather on the front of her body, massaging it into her full breasts, tweaking the nipples and playfully dabbing bubbles on each. He tormented himself by crouching down and going directly to her ankles, bypassing her pussy, although his cock sent him a strong objection. When he reached the tops of her thighs and ran his thumbs along the cease where hip and thigh joined, her breathing hitched and she widened her stance in silent urging.

  When he plunged his soapy fingers between her folds, the walls of her vagina clamped down on him, pulling at him, and he felt them fluttering.

  Jesus. This was the most responsive woman he’d ever met. Nothing was calculated or planned. She just…was. Despite the massive orgasms they’d just shared, she was riding the curve of ecstasy again, the flutters growing harder and faster. She squeezed her thighs around his wrist, a tiny moan whispering over her lips.

  He was surprised when she grabbed his hand and jerked it away.

  “My turn.” Her voice was breathless. “Stand still and don’t move.”

  It was damn hard to do when the touch of her delicate fingers on his body, rubbing here, teasing there, drove him nuts. When she dragged her nails over his hard nipples and down through the hair to his groin he was afraid he’d come right then and there. But the worst—or best—was when she spread the soapy lather on his rigid, ready cock, paying special attention to the head and the slit. He bit his tongue to retain some semblance of control. But when she reached between his legs to cup his balls, manipulating them with her fingers, he pulled away, moving her to the side.

  “That’s it,” he groaned.

  He opened the shower door and reached for the condom he’d dropped onto the vanity, ripped open the foil and rolled the rubber onto his erection in record time. With the strength that he’d acquired fighting the massive bulls, he lifted Grace as if she weighed nothing and impaled her on his penis, filling her with one hard, quick thrust.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.

  She slid them up his hips and locked her ankles at the small of his back, pulling him tight against her. Pressing her to the wall, he slammed in and out of her as if his life depended on it. He lowered his head enough for him to take one rosy nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard and pressing it against the roof of his mouth before clamping it between his teeth.

  He pistoned his hips back and forth, and she met him thrust for thrust. A high, keening sound rose from her throat and she clutched his shoulders. He felt the orgasm rising within him, sending lightning streaks along his spine and tightening his balls.

  Feeling her pulse around him, he took them both over the edge, the slick walls of her pussy pulli
ng at him and milking him through the thin latex. He took her mouth in a totally carnal kiss, sucking her tongue into his own mouth and devouring it, licking and drinking the nectar he found there. She never shrank from him, giving as good as she got, riding the whirlwind with him until the very last of the aftershocks dissipated and they were limp against the shower wall.

  With a hand that shook slightly, he reached over and shut off the water that had now turned cool. He placed her on the thick bath mat and wrapped a towel around her, grabbing one for himself at the same time. Then, after carefully drying her off, he carried her into the bedroom.

  Somehow, he managed to get them under the covers and pulled her next to him, spoon fashion. Then he dragged the sheet and blanket up to their chins. His last thought as he closed his eyes, perched on the edge of a deep sleep, was that he had no intention of letting her disappear come morning. He’d find a way to convince her to stay with him until the end of the rodeo.

  That was all. He’d be sure she understood—just until the end of the rodeo. Grace Delaney was definitely no buckle bunny. She was all woman and all class. But his future was too murky and he didn’t want to have a mess to deal with when he moved on. Which he would do for sure.

  Yup. He’d be real clear on that point.

  Chapter Five

  Grace shoved a stack of folders aside on her desk and turned to her computer. All morning she’d tried to force her mind to focus on financial projections and capital amortization, but they might as well have been words plucked from a foreign alphabet. Financial statements, both hard copy and on her monitor screen, swam before her like waterlogged pages.

  Waterlogged!

  Don’t go there, Grace.

  But the word called up the images of that shower with Ben, steam hissing around them as they soaped each other with rich lather, the feel of his fingers inside her. Then the hard thrust of his more than ready cock that rode her over the edge of a cliff to a thundering orgasm. The thoughts racing unrestrained through her head made her panties dampen.

  How on earth had she let herself fall into such an ocean of eroticism? She, the most proper person in the world. The widow who had guarded her chastity years after her husband’s death. Who had only learned about erotic love from the books she read and her secret DVDs. Oh. My. God. Ben Lowell probably thought she was the tramp of the century. As well he should. The things she’d done with him. To him. Let him do to her. Oh. My. God.

  Despite the fact that her body felt well and thoroughly satisfied, that satisfaction was mixed with trepidation and anxiety. She simply had to get a grip on herself again, that was all there was too it.

  “Mrs. Delaney?”

  She looked up, shaken from her reverie. Joyce Ritter, her secretary, stood in the doorway.

  Grace stared at her, confused. Why hadn’t she buzzed like she usually did? Was something wrong? “Yes?” she said, puzzled.

  “Are you okay?”

  Grace sat up straighter in her chair and without thinking, rubbed the little boot pin she’d fastened to her collar this morning.

  “I’m fine, Joyce. Maybe just a little distracted what with quarterly statements due. Why?”

  Joyce frowned at her. “I buzzed you three times and you didn’t answer. Mrs. Keyes is here and says she’s going to break your door down if I don’t let her in.”

  Grace laughed, especially seeing the knowing grin on Joyce’s face. Melanie was a legend with the staff. “Let her in. I need a break, anyway.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before Melanie swept into the room, today dressed in skin–tight, hand–painted maroon jeans and a hot-pink sweater. She poured herself a coffee from the carafe on the credenza, arranged herself on the couch and said, “Okay, shoot.”

  Grace swallowed a smile and arched an eyebrow. “Give? Are you soliciting for one of your multiple causes?”

  Melanie made a rude noise. “I want to know about last night, m’dear. Details. All of them.”

  Grace knew she was blushing and she ducked her head toward her own coffee mug. “You know I never kiss and tell.”

  Melanie re-crossed her legs. “Sure but that’s because, for the past twenty years, you haven’t had anything to tell about. Come on. I was the one who dressed you up and dragged you there. I deserve to know what happened.”

  “I got the feeling that you and Ben know each other,” Grace said, changing the subject.

  Melanie’s smile barely faltered. “We’ve met. That’s all.”

  “But there seemed to be something…oh, I don’t know…maybe hostile between you?”

  Melanie set her mug down on the end table. “Ben Lowell is a huge hunk of man, Grace Delaney. He’s very particular these days about who he chooses to spend his time with. So if he chose you, you damn well better know I want to hear everything.”

  Was that a little venom Grace heard? She certainly didn’t think there was any need for it. Regardless of what might be or have been between her and Ben, there didn’t seem to be anything now. Besides, she’d only been an adventure to Ben, just as he was to her. He’d given her a night she could pull out and relive lying alone in her bed, with her erotic romance novels and her battery-operated friend as enhancements. She was a realist, and she knew the score. She’d been a novelty to him. Tonight, he’d be moving on to someone else.

  Before Grace could answer, however, the intercom sounded. “There’s a phone call for you, Mrs. Delaney,” her secretary’s voice said. “It’s a man, and if you don’t want him, can I have him? He sounds hot.”

  Grace knew at once who it was, her stomach doing a tango and heat creeping up her cheeks. “He’s seventy years old, Joyce,” she joked.

  “Yeah, right. Shall I put him through?”

  The phone on her desk rang. She picked it up and the minute she heard his voice, memories from the night before flooded her brain. She turned away from Melanie in case every one of her thoughts was written on her face.

  “Morning, gorgeous.” His voice had an early morning huskiness to it, deep and warm like fresh coffee.

  “Good morning.” Her mind was skittering around, trying to figure out how to talk to him with Melanie avidly eavesdropping. She turned to her friend and made a shooing motion with her hand, but Melanie just grinned and shook her head. Grace dropped her voice. “I’m not alone.”

  “No problem. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay today. And tell you I want to see you again tonight.”

  See her again? No way. Not when she’d just been steeling herself for him to move on. Anyway, one night was all she could handle. She just needed the right words to tell him this wasn’t her style. And it wasn’t. Was it?

  “Oh. Well.” She bit her lip. She wondered how to get her message across with Melanie so close at hand. The clipped answers would have to do. Then she blurted out absolutely the wrong answer. “Sure.”

  Sure? Grace, are you nuts?

  But she couldn’t take it back, knowing Melanie would pepper her with questions.

  “Great.” Was that a sigh of relief she heard? “We can talk more when no one’s around. Want to see the rodeo again? I’m competing again tonight.”

  “Yes, please. I think I’d like that.” Okay, that’s safe. See the rodeo, get the hell out of there.

  Yeah, right.

  “All right.” She heard the grin in his voice. “How about taking a cab so you won’t have to worry about your car? I’ll have a VIP pass waiting for you at the main gate.”

  “But—” Not have my own car? How will I get home? Can I leave myself without that security?

  “No buts. I’ll drive you home in the morning, and I don’t want any arguments about it. Other ears are listening, remember?” he teased. “Meet me at the back door at nine-thirty. See you tonight, darlin’.”

  Before she could say anything else, he’d hung up.

  In the morning? Drive her home in the morning? How was she going to get herself out of this one? Did she even want to?

  Fast. So fast. Too
much, too fast. For a moment she almost couldn’t catch her breath.

  “Well!” Melanie stood. “I’m sure I don’t have to ask who that was, even though you did your damndest to hide it. Seeing him again? Good for you.” She kissed Grace on the cheek. “Remember, I’ll be waiting for those details.”

  Grace sat at her desk, staring into space, Ben’s naked body the only thing she could think of, until Joyce buzzed her that a client was waiting to see her.

  * * * *

  Sitting through an hour with Leo Dandridge had been slow torture, as had been reviewing two reports one of her part-timers had prepared. Somehow the safe world of accounting didn’t hold Grace’s attention today.

  At least a dozen times, she lifted the phone to call Ben’s hotel and leave a message for him. No, that would be rude, she argued with herself. Besides, she was no coward. Was she? She could tell him in person that this couldn’t go on.

  Of course, she told herself, it wouldn‘t hurt to look and feel terrific when I give him my speech. It would give her confidence. Right. Confidence.

  Who am I kidding? That was just a taste. I want to know it all. Every bit of it. To find myself as a woman.

  Only Ben Lowell might just be a lot more than she could handle.

  * * * *

  At home, she treated herself to a long bubble bath then rubbed lavender lotion into every inch of her body. From her lingerie drawer, she pulled out the sheer lace red thong and matching demi-bra, eyeing herself in the mirror critically after she’d put them on. Maybe Ben had overlooked the stretch marks, but to her eyes they gleamed like vivid silver streaks, as did the matching ones on the underside of her breasts. Or maybe they were just more obvious to her.

  Well, nothing she could do about them now.

  The rest of her body was passable. Ben seemed happy with it, so she guessed that was all that counted.