Janice awoke to the flash of lightning, pelting rain, and a trailer-shaking rumble of thunder. It was storming fiercely. She rolled over and pulled the covers over her head with a groan, but couldn’t muffle the noise. Following the next window-rattling clap, she thought she heard someone calling her name.
Confused and alarmed, she sat up, rubbing her bleary eyes and holding her breath.
There it was again—a thump and a voice coming from the other side of the door. “Janice? You awake?”
“Shit!” She slid down from the gooseneck, almost missing the step in her haste. What had happened? A wreck with the livestock? Bad news at home?
With her mind racing, she flipped on the light and flung open the door.
Clothes plastered to his body and water pouring down from the brim of his hat, Dirk stood shivering in the narrow doorway.
“Dirk?” She gasped. “What are you doing here?” She looked at her watch. It was almost one a.m. “What’s happened?”
He gave a dry laugh. “You might say ‘shit happened.’”
“I’m guessing the karaoke routine didn’t go over so well?”
“You guessed that right. We were ‘asked’ to leave, but Grady’d already had a few too many and wasn’t in any mood to cooperate.”
“No. I don’t suppose he would have been,” she said. “It seemed he was itchin’ for any excuse to brawl tonight.” She stepped closer, noting that Dirk had added a black eye to his prior battle scars. “Guess you weren’t so willing to go quietly either?”
He flashed a shameless grin. “It’s a cruel world. We low-life cowboys have to stick together.”
Janice couldn’t stifle a chuckle. “So where’s Grady now? Is he with you?” She looked over his shoulder but saw no one.
“Nope. He found other accommodations.” Dirk didn’t elaborate so she didn’t press. “Mind if I get out of the rain?”
“Sure. Sorry.” She stepped back, allowing him to enter the tiny confines of her living quarters.
He doffed his hat with a nod. “Nice digs.”
“Yeah, right,” she snorted. “Mind telling me why you’re here?”
He heaved a sigh that made him wince. “Had nowhere else to go.”
Janice flinched in sympathy. “Shoulder botherin’ you?” He still wasn’t wearing the sling.
“S’alright.”
“How about that hand?”
His left hand was wrapped but his exposed fingers looked like purple sausages.
“Not so bad.” He shrugged. “I mighta broke a coupla fingers but I don’t think it’s anything that won’t mend. It’s mostly my head now…and the damned ribs.”
“Your ribs? You didn’t mention those to the medic.”
He shrugged. “My lung didn’t perf, so there’s nothing he could have done anyway. I think they’re only bruised.”
“So what happened after I left?”
He dragged a hand through his dripping hair. “It was all a big to-do ’bout nothin’ really.”
“Oh, really?” She raised her brow in disbelief.
“Yeah. We barely got through the first verse when they cut the music and gave us the boot.”
“And then what?”
He looked abashed. “We didn’t just have to leave the party, we got kicked out of the hotel too.”
“Evicted from your room?”
“Yup. And there aren’t any others available in all of Casper.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s why I’m camped out here.” She paused to digest what he’d left unsaid. “So you and Rachel?”
He shook his head with a scowl. “We’re done now. Quits.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. History. Case closed.”
“It’ll blow over.”
“Don’t think so. It was her idea to boot us. Said she didn’t give a shit if I had a room tonight or not. Then I couldn’t even try finding anything outside of town because my asshole brother took my keys so I wouldn’t drive. My next move was to pilfer a blanket and pillow and camp out under the stars in my truck bed, but then it started pouring on me.”
“So you came here. How’d you do that with no wheels?”
“Walked.”
“Three miles in the pouring rain? No wonder you look like something the cat dragged in.”
“Can I crash for a coupla hours? Maybe just camp out in the backseat of your dually? All I need is to get warm and dry again.”
Janice’s mouth went dry as sawdust. Dirk Knowlton. Cold. Wet. Here. Now. Wanting a bed? She’d give her right arm to warm him up. Heck yeah.
Misreading her silence he mumbled a curse. “Sorry, Janice. It’s my damned head. I’m not thinkin’ right. It’s still throbbing like hell. Haven’t been myself all night. M’pologies for being such a dumb-ass and imposing on you—” He turned to the door.
“No! Wait. It’s not that.” She grabbed his sleeve. “I was just thinking of your injuries. You don’t need to make matters worse by sleeping all cramped up in the truck.” She gnawed her lower lip and then blurted. “Y-you wanna just stay here instead?”
“Here? That’s mighty generous but there isn’t a whole lot of room for both of us.” He glanced up at the gooseneck with a frown. “If you’ll just gimme a blanket, I’ll take the floor.”
“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “The bench here flips down over the table and converts into a single. It’s really narrow and not very comfortable, but still better than the truck. Warmer anyway. Besides you need to get dry.”
“You sure about this?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “What are friends for? I’m sure I’ve got a shirt for you too.”
“Thanks, Red. That would be great.”
Red? The single syllable rippled warm and tingly, all the way to her toes. He followed up with a lopsided grin that stopped her in her tracks. She turned to the small cabinet that served a dual function as dresser and closet and shut her eyes on a sigh—but the same air stuck in her throat the minute she turned back around.
He’d shed the denim jacket. And the black tee. His bare torso with well-developed pecs and a mouthwatering six-pack greeted her. He was drying his face with his discarded shirt. Janice tore her gaze away and cleared her throat. “Here.” She thrust an extra-large Dixie Chicks T-shirt into his hands, a souvenir from their Top of the World Tour. “I—I can get you a towel too.”
He eyed the shirt skeptically. “No thanks.”
“What? You don’t like female musicians?”
“Don’t like their politics. Natalie should just shut up and sing.”
“Ah.” She nodded slowly. The shirt was from the tour that caused the “incident.” A lot of her friends had since thrown out their Dixie Chicks CDs, but Janice still loved their music. “I Can Love You Better” was her favorite. The lyrics—“she’s got you wrapped up in her satin and lace. Tied around her little finger…but I can love you better”—perfectly summed up all the heartbreak and frustrations of unrequited love; all her secret feelings for Dirk. She only wished she could show him now that he was here. In the flesh. A big, strong, blue-lipped, and teeth-chattering fantasy come true.
“You’re shivering,” she argued. “It’s a silly time for political statements.”
“Sorry,” he said. “But I never compromise my core principles. I support the war. Wholeheartedly. Somebody’s gotta make those sons of bitches pay for what they did. If we don’t defend our country, our freedom, who will?”
“There’s other ways than war,” she argued. “Like the UN—”
He made a choking sound. “Don’t get me started there, Red.”
“But—”
He raised a hand. “Look, it’s already clear we don’t see eye to eye, and nothing you say can change my views, so don’t you think the conversation is kinda pointless?”
“All right,” she conceded. “I suppose we can just agree to disagree.”
He gave her a curt nod. “I’d say that’s fair enough.”
Janice pulled out another shirt and offered it to him with a twinge of embarrassment. “How ’bout SpongeBob? Is he politically safe?”
“SpongeBob’s my man.” He chuckled and took the shirt. Their fingers brushed. Their eyes met. She shivered. His gaze drifted southward. “You cold too?” he asked.
She tracked the direction of his eyes and swiftly crossed her arms over her chest to hide her hardening nipples. “Yeah, I must be cold.” She turned away, briskly chafing her arms. “I don’t have any jeans that will fit you, but maybe some sweatpants?
“Would you be offended to see me in my boxers?” he asked.
Janice pursed her mouth and shook her head, unable to form a coherent response.
Hell no, her brain screamed. “Offended” was the very last word that came to mind.
* * *
“Damn!” Dirk toed off his boots with a mumbled curse. “Is there anything worse than trying to peel off wet jeans?” His clothes were stuck to him and his bum left hand and shoulder didn’t make it any easier.
“Here, let me help you.”
Before he could protest, Janice had squatted down in front of him. She went right to work tugging the bottom half of his pant legs—a position that put her face level with his crotch.
Instinctively, Dirk’s gaze drifted to her mouth. It was a pretty mouth, maybe not as full and overtly sensual as Rachel’s, but nicely shaped. It was also too damned close to his dick. Down boy! She glanced up at him wide-eyed, which only made matters worse.
Far worse.
He shut his eyes on a muffled groan trying to banish his lewd thoughts and will away the stirrings his imagination had invoked, but he was getting a hard-on, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Panic set in.
Fearing she’d notice, or worse yet, his dick would poke her in the eye, he tried to back away. With wet jeans tangled around his ankles, he lost his balance, and crashed backward, striking his head on the table before hitting the floor. “Goddamn sonofabitch!”
“Dirk!” Janice cried. “Are you OK?” She knelt beside him, pulling his head onto her lap to palpate his scalp. “There’s no blood. Thank God. Does it hurt?”
The pain in his head was blinding. “Hell yeah. It hurts!”
She bit her lip. “Is it worse on the inside or the outside?”
“Both,” he snapped. “It was mostly on the inside until this last dumb-ass maneuver. I’m wondering if I’ve developed some kind of subliminal death wish. Got a sledgehammer?”
“What for?” she asked.
“To finish the job and put me out of my misery.”
She shook her head with a sympathetic smile. “I don’t but maybe I can make it better?”
“You sure as hell can’t make it any worse,” he said.
“Hang on.” She softly lowered his head to the floor, then stood up to grab a pillow from the gooseneck. She then wet a dish towel at the sink and returned to sit cross-legged beside him with the pillow on her lap. “Head. Here.” She patted the pillow.
Dirk complied without protest, easing his head into the marshmallow softness. She folded the wet dish towel and placed it over his eyes. “Trust me and try to relax. I do this for Mama whenever she gets migraines,” she explained in a voice as soft and soothing as her touch.
She had magical fingers, he decided, after only a few seconds of her temple massage. She didn’t smell half bad either. His nose was badly swollen but he could still detect the subtle scent of vanilla. Vanilla was unfairly maligned in his estimation. He particularly liked vanilla. He breathed it in.
Though his eyes were covered, he could see through a small gap alongside his nose. A gap that gave a very fine view of her breasts. They weren’t overly large, but perfectly shaped—nicely rounded and full. They jiggled slightly with the movements of her arms. He also noticed her nipples were still hard, much like his prick. His boxers were loose, but couldn’t camouflage his hard-on if she looked. He hoped she wouldn’t.
A moment later, the abrupt pause of her fingers and sharp intake of breath told him she likely had. He held his own breath, waiting. Would she think him a complete perv, drop his head to the floor, and kick his ass out the door? To his relief, the scalp massage continued.
“Feeling any better?” she asked after a bit.
“Yeah,” he said. “You’ve got great hands, Red. Feel free to put them on my body anytime.”
“Yeah?” Pause. “How’s the shoulder?”
“Real stiff.” Like my dick. His early words of warning to Janice came back to haunt him with an erection-sustaining vengeance. Soft, warm, and vanilla-smelling Janice sure as hell wasn’t a troll.
“Oh?” He detected the smile in her voice. “Want me to try and work the kinks out for you?”
She took the cloth away and their eyes met. He’d never given Janice’s eyes a good look before. Couldn’t even have said what color they were—until now. Warm brown with tiny flecks of gold. Her cheeks colored. They had tiny flecks too. Freckles. Sun kisses, his grandma used to call them.
She broke eye contact first. “Can you sit up?”
“Yeah, I can sit,” he replied.
She opened her legs and crooked her fingers, gesturing that he should position himself between them. He hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to put his ass that close to her soft, bare thighs.
She regarded him with a wrinkled brow. “Do you want me to try that shoulder? Or not?”
“Yeah.” He moved into position, figuring the case would be a lot worse if she positioned her ass between his thighs, but changed his mind a minute later. No matter whose ass or thighs went where, the position was pretty damned intimate.
Her hands began at his neck, her thumbs circling firm but gentle over his spine. He let his head drop to his chest with a groan. Holy shit, that felt good. Damned good.
She slid her hands a bit lower, her fingers probing deeper into his shoulder muscles. Her hands were strong, and confident, delivering a medicinal mix of pleasure and pain. He’d never had anyone touch him like this—not even Rachel. And his body responded to it.
“You’d better stop that now, Red.” Standing up would only make his condition more evident so he scooted forward, away from her reach.
“Did I hurt you?” she asked.
“No,” he replied tightly. “I just don’t want it to end up the other way around.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you, a man and woman can’t be friends. Sooner or later he’ll want to get into her jeans. Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you got me achin’ to do just that.”
“Aching?” she repeated dumbly.
“Yeah, Red…as in blue balls.” He shifted in growing discomfort knowing he’d get no relief tonight. “Maybe you should climb up into that gooseneck now.”
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“What I want?” He gave a deprecating laugh. “You shouldn’t ask questions like that, sweetheart. You’ll never get the truth out of a man with a hard-on.” He spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “I can hardly deny what’s staring you right in the face.”
Her gaze dropped. Her brown eyes widened.
He covered his face and blew out a long breath. Maybe it was the injury that had his head all screwed up, or the alcohol he shouldn’t have drunk. Or more likely, it was pent-up frustration from long-term abstinence. Whatever it was, his resistance was crumbling to dust with vanilla-scented Janice staring at his dick.
“Shit, Janice. You’re not making this easy on me. I’m trying my damnedest to act like a gentleman.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her gaze flickering back to his face. “What did I do?”
“Hell, you don’t have to do anything when you’re looking at me that way.”
“What way?” she asked, her soft brown eyes searching his.
Her whole demeanor was a provocative mix of earthy innocence. Her hands were strong and gentle. Her eyes, honest, and guileless. Everything about Janice felt so warm and inviting, in stark contrast to Rachel who ran hot and cold with nothing in between. For almost five years Rachel had strung him along, teasing with promises and vacillations. Now here was Janice—warm, welcoming, and smelling good enough to eat. His gaze dropped to her mouth, to lips that softly parted. Her unspoken invitation was the straw that broke the cowboy’s back.
* * *
Janice knew what she was doing—at least she told herself she did. She’d never dreamed of anyone but Dirk. It seemed like she’d waited half her life hoping he’d notice her—and now here he was—and he’d definitely noticed. Maybe she was taking unfair advantage of the situation. He was on the rebound. Though he’d never admit it, he was hurting bad and not just on the outside. She knew he and Rachel would eventually patch things up. Her eyes were open on that score, but right here, right now, none of that mattered. This was Dirk.
Her breath came in rapid puffs. She shut her eyes in anticipation, waiting and willing him to commit himself.
His fingers cupped her chin, firm and gentle at the same time. Her body tensed and stomach tightened as inch by devastating inch he lowered his head toward hers until his mouth hovered only a hair’s breadth from hers.
Her heartbeat accelerated, her lips parted.
His warm breath caressed her face, teasing her with its scent while the yearned for kiss hung between them—a sweet promise suspended in time.
Please. She sent a silent supplication to the heavens.
A heartbeat later, her prayer was answered as his lips brushed over hers—soft, warm, sweet. The stuff of her girlhood fantasies. She wanted to melt into him, to throw her whole being into her response, but he stiffened and drew back, as if ready to abort what they’d started.
Her breathing stilled. Her eyes opened. Her heart squeezed with the fear of rejection, but rejection wasn’t what she saw reflected back at her in pools of crystal blue. His gaze was searching hers as if silently seeking confirmation that she wanted what he wanted.
Now or never, Janice. Time to cowgirl up.
She took a breath, and then the dive. Stepping into him, she snaked her arms around his neck, until they stood chest to chest, thigh to thigh, separated by only thin layers of cotton. His erection surged between them, pressing hot and hard against her lower belly. Threading her trembling fingers through the hair at his nape, she pulled his head back down to hers for another kiss.
Like the flip of a switch, everything shifted. Transformed.
His hands tightened on her face as he claimed her mouth again, but this kiss wasn’t soft and tender. It was hungry. Fierce. His mouth melded with hers with an urgency that made her chest tighten. He licked across the seam of her mouth and she parted her lips on a soft moan, welcoming his exploration, and the slick, swirling strokes of his tongue.
His hands dropped to her shoulders and his mouth to her neck. Sucking, licking, gently biting. Her mind emptied of everything but Dirk. It was him. Only him. His mouth. His hands. His soft words murmured against her skin. The deliciously abrasive bristle of his whisker stubble. His fingers pushing her camisole strap aside. His mouth replacing it, moving over her shoulder in a hot wet trail across her collar bone.
The sensations of his mouth, his hands, and hot tongue robbed her of breath. Her nipples were swollen, almost painfully erect. Her breasts ached for his touch. She clutched his hair with a soft sound—a plea for relief that he didn’t ignore. Yes. Sweet Jesus. Yes.
His mouth came down, kissing, gently biting, and then suckling her breasts. He teased, strummed, and plucked her nipples, inducing a sudden surge of wetness between her thighs and transferring the ache to a different place.
She slid her hands down his neck, over his broad shoulders, to the wide, smooth plane of his back. He brought his hands lower too. Her body rippled under his fingers tracing gently down her spine until they rested on the small of her back. His callused thumbs located the hollowed dimples. Circling, stroking. Every touch, kiss, breath, and heartbeat wrested a response, ramping her need to a fever pitch. She’d never felt like this before, on fire and burning up with want. She whimpered and ground herself against him. The friction of his erection created a blinding rush of pleasure. He ran a hand up her thigh, reaching inside the leg of her shorts to stroke his fingers through her damp curls. He kissed her again. Slow and deep. He also probed further. Deeper.
She clutched him tighter, her body quivering.
“You nervous, Red?”
“Well, yeah,” she confessed.
“It’s all right,” he soothed. “I won’t be rough and I’ll take care of you first.”
Before she realized what he meant by that, he’d dropped to his knees. Caressing the length of her legs, his mouth trailed up the wake of gooseflesh created by his hands. He nuzzled her through her shorts. She gasped at the mind-reeling jolt of pleasure.
His gaze shot up to hers. “You like that?”
“I—I—I don’t know,” she answered back. “I think so.”
“What’re you saying, Red? No one’s ever gone down on you before?”
A flood of heat invaded her face. Her gaze dropped from his. “Ah…well…ah…no.”
He grinned. “Hell, sweetheart, I consider it an honor to be the first.”
Her body tensed with apprehension. She squeezed her thighs tightly together. “Y-you really don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do.” He laughed. “Maybe you aren’t certain about it, but I promise you I am. You just gotta trust me on this one, Red. I swear you’ll like it…a lot.”
Before she could protest again, he smoothed his hands up to her hips. Anchoring them there, he buried his face fully into her, licking and nibbling through her shorts. She bucked against him but he held her firm and strong against his mouth until she swayed drunkenly on her feet.
He gazed back up at her with a smug grin. “That was just a sample, darlin’. Wanna let me peel those shorts off now?”
* * *
She was hot and wet and willing, but too tense and too tight. Not ready. But oral was one thing Dirk prided himself on—and it was no chore to do it.
He didn’t wait for her answer but braced her hands on his shoulders and then dragged her shorts down over her hips and those sleek mile-long legs. Her musky perfume surrounded him, filled him. He pulled a deep breath inward, wishing to inhale her into his lungs. Holy shit! The essence of an aroused woman always made his cock swell and his balls ache. He wished he could bottle it.
The second she stepped out of the shorts, he dove in, sweeping through her slickened folds with long hungry swipes of his tongue. Hands on her hips, he feasted on her, stoking, probing, licking, swirling, drinking her juices, and fucking her with his tongue until he was nearly out of his mind with lust.
She whimpered and writhed, clawing his scalp and pulling his hair. Hell, she was almost there. He applied his mouth to her clit, circling and sucking the swollen nub until her knees buckled and her body convulsed in a climax against his mouth. Holding her upright, Dirk nuzzled and kissed her belly until she came back to earth.
“Good for you, Red?” he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.
“What did you do? I never—” She gazed back at him, looking flushed. Bewildered. Beautiful.
He’d never thought of Janice that way before, but shit yeah. She was hot as hell right now. He rose and kissed her again. Slow. Deep. Using his tongue to restoke the fire. She melted into him all soft, warm, wet woman. His need for relief was approaching desperation. She was as ready as she was gonna get and he was miles past ready.
He scanned the cramped quarters. His gaze shot up to the mattress in the gooseneck. Even if he could make the climb there’d be no room at all to maneuver up there. He sure as hell didn’t need to smack his head again tonight.
Shit.
There wasn’t even a chair, just a tiny table with a built in bench seat. She said it flipped down into a cot but it was way too narrow. He regarded the table skeptically. He doubted it would hold any weight. He didn’t want to shove her up against the door. He’d waited too friggin’ long to do it quick and dirty like that. Not the first time anyway. It just seemed fundamentally…wrong. He wanted to savor the experience of feeling himself finally wrapped in a hot wet pussy—as long as he was gonna be able to savor it anyway. As excited as he was, he doubted he’d last very long once he was snugly gloved inside her hot, sweet flesh.
His frustration rising, he clawed a hand through his hair. It wasn’t what he’d really wanted but he guessed her mouth would have to do—not that he didn’t love a blow job. Hell, what man didn’t?
“Any chance you wanna return the favor?”
She glanced down at his crotch where his prick strained rigid as rebar against his shorts. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “You mean…”
His breathing suspended. Was she unwilling? Shit! He hadn’t even considered that possibility. “I won’t come in your mouth, Janice. I swear it.” He was almost pleading but if she agreed to blow him, he’d hold back his release if it fucking killed him.
“It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t…I haven’t ever…” She shook her head with an embarrassed look.
“You’ve never done that either?”
“No, Dirk. I haven’t had much experience. With all the work, I’ve never had time for dating.”
He held back a chuckle. “Giving a guy a BJ is hardly dating, Red.”
“Don’t tease me,” she snapped. “I already feel inadequate enough.”
Inadequate? He could hardly wrap his mind around that one. He stroked his thumb over her lips. “I assure you, sweetheart, you are more than adequate.”
Her gaze softened. “I don’t know what to do…what you like.”
“If you just wrap those pretty lips around me I promise I’ll like it just fine.”
She still looked tentative. Unsure. “Will you tell me if I do it wrong?”
He was throbbing for release and all this talking about it only made his balls ache worse, but he knew he had to be patient. “You can wipe that thought out of your mind, sweetheart. There’s no right or wrong—only what feels good.”
“Then you’ll tell me what feels good?” she asked.
“Yeah, Red. If that’s what you want. You can start like this.”
He brought her hand down between them, wrapping her fingers around him. His cock twitched in her hand. Her gaze widened. He closed his hand firmly over hers and moved it up and down. She followed his lead, stroking him awkwardly at first, until she found a rhythm.
“That’s it. Just keep it right along these lines,” he coaxed her low and husky.
Ignoring the sting of his split lip, he crushed his mouth to hers, kissing, nipping at her lips, then sucking her tongue into his mouth. She reciprocated eagerly, throwing herself hungrily into the kiss, as she continued to pump him. Their moans mingled. His need grew more urgent.
As if reading his mind, she broke from his mouth to work her way down his body. Touching, licking, kissing his neck and torso, tonguing and then sucking his nipples, she incited surges of sensation deep in his groin. He backed up to the table, giving her more room.
She hit her knees, her breath fanning hot and moist against his belly. She gazed up at him shyly, wetting her lips. His pulse accelerated. His body tensed…his cock throbbed for release.
She drew his boxers down.
He exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
He sprang free into her hand.
He shut his eyes and began slowly counting, tamping down the urge to thrust himself into her mouth. Much like working a skittish colt, he had to let her figure it out for herself. It wasn’t long…maybe only twenty seconds or so before he felt the first smooth brush of her lips over the head of his prick. She followed with the first velvety swipe of her tongue that sent a ripple of sensation deep into his balls. “Jesus. That’s good, Red. Just like that.”
She responded to his encouragement with longer licks over the head of his glans, and then down his shaft. Coming back up again with wicked little flicks and darts of her tongue, then slowly circling the corona. She was a quick study, his shy little Janice. He palmed her head with a moan. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Take me in,” he urged. “I need to feel your lips wrapped around me.” He thought he’d lose his mind if she didn’t do it soon.
She opened her mouth and shut her eyes, using one hand to guide him over her velvety tongue and into the warm, wet cavern of her mouth. His head reeled with sensation. He tangled both hands in her hair with a guttural sound, fighting back the urge to thrust. Instead, he gently rocked his hips. Taking his cue, she drew him further, deeper into her wet heat, then slowly released with a steady, mind-blowing suction. Her hands roamed over his abs and hips to rest on his buttocks, squeezing his ass as she worked him with her mouth.
“That’s good, sweetheart,” he groaned. “Really good. Take me all the way.” He sychronized her movements with shallow thrusts and lost himself in deep, drugging pleasure.
* * *
Dirk’s eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth slightly parted and his head thrown back. She was enthralled by the look of intense concentration on his face, the ragged rise and fall of his chest, his heavy breaths filling the air. She was almost dizzy with disbelief that she could affect him this way.
She’d heard plenty of talk about blow jobs, mostly filthy stuff from cowboys who’d either forgotten she was around, or maybe had just forgotten she was female. She’d known it was at the top of every guy’s list, but the idea of some guy sticking his dick in her mouth had always seemed repulsive—until now.
She’d never considered how different it could be with someone she cared about. Rather than aversion, she was deeply aroused—more turned on than she’d ever been in her life. She loved the silky sensation of his hot flesh between her lips, the salty tang of him on her tongue, his hard ass flexing beneath her hands. She was becoming drunk on his pleasure. In this moment, she understood. This was about giving him the same kind of devastating, earthshaking pleasure he’d given her. He’d put his needs aside to rock her world and now she wanted to blow his off its axis.
She gently fondled his sac, felt it tighten beneath her touch, drawing up close to his body. She knew even before he spoke that he was closing in fast on the point of no return.
“You gotta stop now.” His jaw was clenched, his voice tight. “I’m about to blow like Old Faithful.”
He withdrew from her mouth with a guttural sound. Janice watched in dismay as he fisted himself to finish. She didn’t want it to end like this. It felt too much like rejection. She’d already made the decision to give herself to him and ached to have him inside her. Body joined to body. Filling her.
She rested her hand on his. “Please, Dirk. Not like that. Can’t we still…” She rose and backed up to the table and hoisted herself on top of it. It was too small to lie on…and shaky…and hard as hell under her ass, but Janice didn’t care about any of that.
He gave it a dubious look. “I’d like nothing better than to oblige you, but I’m not too sure about that table.”
“Please. I want to feel you inside me. Just this once.”
“Hell, since you asked so sweet…” He grinned. “Gimme just a minute.” He turned away to root through their discarded heap of clothes for his jeans, fishing a foil packet out of his wallet. “Been there so long the damn thing’s probably expired,” he mumbled, then tore it open with his teeth. He came back to her, nudging her knees apart and stepping between her thighs, his coarse hair abraded her skin. Her legs trembled uncontrollably.
“You seem a bit jittery there, Red.”
“Only a little,” she answered with a tremulous laugh.
His blue eyes met hers once more searching. “You having second thoughts? Do you really want this?” He gestured between them. “You…me?”
She bit her lip, but her gaze never wavered from his. “Yes,” she whispered back through swollen lips.
He held out the condom. “You wanna do the honors?”
“No.” She shook her head briskly. “You go ahead this time.”
This time? She’d spoken as if this was actually the beginning of something, when she knew deep down it wasn’t. Not that it mattered. She didn’t care if it was only once. Only tonight. In this moment it was warm. It was real. Dirk wanted her and she’d never wanted anyone else.
He gloved himself.
She propped back on her elbows, a position that allowed her to watch. And she wanted to watch. This was her rite of passage to full-fledged womanhood and she wanted to savor it with all of her senses.
He positioned himself between her legs and wrapped hers around his flanks. He probed her entrance. She tensed and inhaled a gasp, then bit her lips, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
But he had.
He froze. Withdrawing far enough to meet her gaze, he voiced the dreaded question. “You haven’t done this before?”
She had to look away. “Well, no. I told you I didn’t have much experience.”
“Shit, Red! Not much experience? That statement was a tad misleading, don’t you think? I expected you were green, but now you tell me you’ve never even been backed?”
“Nope. But it’s OK,” she blurted. “I really want this. I’m twenty-one. Isn’t it past time?”
He stepped back with a groan. “Look, Red. Age has nothing to do with it. If that’s your motivation, we’re doing this for all the wrong reasons.”
“No!” she protested. “That’s not what I meant.”
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I don’t know what you want from me, but what I want is the truth. Why tonight? Why me?”
She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat didn’t budge. It was indeed the moment of truth. “B-because I want you,” she whispered. “I wanted you the minute you showed your face at my door. Nope, scratch that. I’ve wanted you ever since the day I saw you on the high school rodeo team, only I was too young even to understand what it was I wanted. But now I do. Understand. And I’m not sixteen anymore.”
His brows came together and his mouth hardened. “I don’t get it. Why me?”
“I don’t know. You’re just different from the others. I knew it would be better with you than with anyone else.”
He shook his head slowly. “I sure don’t know what to make of that.”
“What about you?” she asked. “Why did you come here tonight? There must have been someone else you could have called.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s been a shitty night. I was feelin’ pretty low. I just started walkin’ and then I found myself here… Maybe I was hoping I’d be welcome at your door.”
“Maybe you were right… So where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know, Red. This is new territory.”
“Have you changed your mind because I don’t know what I’m doing?” she asked.
“Hell, no. That’s not it. It’s just you and me. I didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I…but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hope for the right time…the right one.”
“And you think that’s me?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know it is. I’ve always wanted it to be you. Now I’ve told you everything.” With her heart in her throat she gazed up into his face. His expression was harsh and unreadable. She swallowed hard and whispered, “Do you still want to? Want me?”
He stepped into her, murmuring only inches from her mouth, “If we just take this nice and slow, I think we’ll figure it out.” Cupping her nape, he kissed her again. Long and deep, his tongue tangling with hers, sending ripples low into her belly. He withdrew from the kiss and brought his fingers to her lips. “Open. Get me wet.”
She sucked his fingers into her mouth. When she released him, he urged her legs farther apart and slid his hand up her thigh. “Shut your eyes,” he commanded.
She closed her lids on a shudder of pleasure, basking in the sensation of his mouth on her breasts and his wet fingers circling her entrance. He probed inside her. “That hurt?”
“No. It feels…good.” She shifted her hips, urging him deeper.
He added another finger and moved it inside, sliding in and out with ease. The hair of his thighs abraded her as he positioned himself once more between her thighs. “Open up. Wider.” He urged her legs apart. “Try to relax now. I promise I’ll go slow.”
Janice willed her body to relax and her passage to open. Dirk hovered over her, his brows contracted, his face drawn taut as he penetrated her in a slow and steady push that simultaneously stretched and filled her.
The pressure continued, as he advanced inch by inch until he was seated with his sex pulsing, hot and hard, deep inside hers. There was a little discomfort but not the pain she’d expected. For long seconds, they remained perfectly still, the silence filled only with her own heartbeat.
“You OK?” Dirk asked at last. He wore a look of fierce concentration. Veins stood out in his neck and arms, and sweat beaded his brow.
She released the breath she’d been holding. “Yes.” She’d barely voiced her reply when he began moving inside her. “Sweet heaven,” she moaned. It was surreal. It was sublime. Her inner muscles clenched and contracted around him. She angled her hips to take him deeper.
He exhaled a hiss. “Sweetheart, if you do that again, I’m not gonna last thirty seconds.”
She grinned up at him. “But I thought cowboys only went for eight anyway.”
His body suddenly trembled, shaking the rickety table beneath her. It was a moment before she realized the tremors and low rumble was laughter. She joined in the tension-breaking burst of mirth until tears streamed both down their cheeks. They were still tightly joined when Dirk wiped a hand across his eyes.
“Maybe I can do better than that if I try real hard.”
“You think so?” she challenged.
“I think it’ll all depend on how badly you wanna buck me off.”
“Maybe I don’t wanna buck you off, cowboy.” Janice dug her heels into his flanks urging him deeper. When he moved again inside her, all humor died away, supplanted by sensations that stole her breath. “Please. Don’t stop. I don’t want this to end,” she whispered.
Ever remained unspoken.
* * *
Janice never closed her eyes all night, too afraid to wake up and find him gone. Instead, she lay beside him on the mattress in the gooseneck, under the faint glow of her night-light, simply watching him sleep. She’d never had an opportunity to study him at such close quarters before, and, damn, if he wasn’t worth the study—even bruised and busted up as he was. Her gaze shifted to his face, both manly and boyish with thick lashes casting shadows above his chiseled and bruised cheekbones. His mouth was slightly parted and he snored softly. His nose was probably broken, but she suspected that would only add to his appeal—not that he needed any help in that department. He was already devastating as far as she was concerned.
He’d flung the covers aside and lay sprawled on his back, arms outstretched, taking up most of the space on the mattress—not that she minded. Janice sidled up snugly against him, her shoulder set in the hollow of his shoulder, her head resting on his chest where she lay hypnotized by the slow and steady drumbeat of his heart. She’d never felt so warm, comfortable, and safe as she did with Dirk. He was everything she’d wanted—everything she’d dreamed of. He’d been patient and tender, making her first time a memory she’d cling to forever, and now she wondered if any other man would ever measure up.
It wasn’t just a physical attraction, but what she’d seen on the inside too. Dirk was strong, self-assured, and confident in his own skin—a man who took life by the horns. He was also honest and forthright and caring to those he loved. She couldn’t fathom how Rachel could have been so mistaken to think she could manipulate him. He wasn’t the type to put up with those kinds of games. Maybe she’d succeeded for a while…and maybe he’d go back to her…for a while…but she’d never be able to keep him—not like that.
Yeah right, Janice, you’re quite an expert on men.
Nevertheless, her instincts had been right. Dirk had balked. She still marveled at the events that had brought him dripping wet to her door, but like the stroke of midnight for Cinderella, the rising sun meant the end of the magic—and the hours were ticking away.
This whole night seemed so unreal to her now. She’d given him her virginity without a second thought. Although she didn’t have a clue what the morning would bring, she couldn’t regret any of it. No, she wouldn’t take it back for anything. Tomorrow he might belong to Rachel again, but she refused to dwell on that. For now he was all hers.