Cowgirl Crazy (#2, Cowboy Way) (30 page)

Ryan knelt over her, and said, “Roll over on
your stomach, baby. I want to see your beautiful ass when I fuck
you.” That would also give him better position to go deeper, and
make her come with him inside of her. God, to feel her body sucking
him deeper inside, feel her come again around his cock would be
incredible. Twyla rolled and laid flat. “Get up on your knees, he
said slapping her ass a little, which got him a whimper.

A delicious thrill shot through him. He could
explore all kinds of things with Twyla. She didn’t know what sex
was, he was teaching her, and she trusted him. Teaching her what he
liked, and learning what she liked would be an adventure. But a
short-lived one he reminded himself. She would be leaving
soon.

“
Fuck,” he muttered as he
positioned himself behind her.

“
What?” Twyla turned her head to
ask. “Did I do something wrong?”

Ryan massaged her ass cheeks with his hands.
No she didn’t do a damned thing wrong. She was perfect, and as much
as he wanted her, she would never be his forever.

But she was his at this moment, and he was
going to try and gorge himself. Get his fill of her delicious body.
Enough to last him a lifetime. Because by being banned from the
Taylor family now, he knew he’d never have her that long. If they
knew he was having her now, they’d probably drag him out to the
field and string him up in a tree.

“
Ryan?” she asked with
concern.

“
Yeah, baby. I’m sorry, just got
lost for a minute.” He reached between them, and raked up her
moisture with his finger, then slathered it on her anus. A tremor
shook her body, and she whimpered when he circled it. He would love
to shove his dick in that tight hole, but knew it wasn’t the time
for it. Maybe he’d have time before she left town.

And maybe Boney the Pony would sprout wings
and fly out of his pen at that ranch. The odds were the same. Once
they left this room, the odds were they wouldn’t have sex again. He
was going to be busy. Up to his eyeballs in chores and repairs. He
had a feeling as lazy as Clarence James was, he hadn’t done a
damned thing with the ranch for years.

So Ryan was determined to milk every ounce of
pleasure out of this time that he could, and give it too. He
grabbed his cock and situated it at her opening, then spread her
legs wider. He leaned over her, reached around her waist and found
her clit with his fingers. He slid his cock halfway into her body.
He gritted his teeth, fighting for control of the orgasm building
in his balls as her wet heat pulsated around him.

He rubbed her nub between his thumb and
forefinger and she gasped, rotated her hips with his hand. Her body
opened and relaxed so she could take a little more of him. Ryan
waited for his body to settle, because the urge to just shove
himself inside of her was strong. This was going to be a test in
his control for sure. Right now he just wanted to pound himself in
her body until he found release, but he was determined to get her
there again first.

With every rotation of his fingers on her
body, her hips took wider circles in response, her back arched
lower, she stretched so her ass was higher, and he went deeper,
until he was buried to the hilt in her sweet, wet heat. Small
tremors of her inner muscles were his first clue she was almost
there, but then she clamped down on him, and Ryan moaned. Twyla bit
down on the pillow and her muffled scream and frantic pants came in
time with her muscles.

Ryan’s control snapped and he leaned behind
her, grabbed her ass, and slid out of her, before he slammed back
in, the incredible suction of her body dragging his orgasm closer
to the end of his cock. Twyla lifted her ass, pushed back toward
him, and his fingers dug into her flesh, as he pounded into her.
The sweet slapping sounds as he entered and left her wet heat
inched his orgasm closer. Blood pounded in his ears, his heart
floated out of chest, tremors worked through him, then like a
floodgate opening he roared his release as his body filled hers in
wave after hot wave. Weak, and his body washed in endorphins, Ryan
collapsed beside her and pulled Twyla into his arms. He kissed her
hair, and pulled her tighter, as emotion choked him.

Ryan didn’t have any fucking idea how he was
ever going to let her go.

CHAPTER
TWENTY

Twyla dipped her sponge in the bucket of soapy
water again, and moved on to the next section of nasty,
smoke-stained wallpaper. She was only halfway through and she
probably smelled like the wall had before she started cleaning it.
She had to get done and showered before two o’clock when the social
worker would be bringing Mary home.

They’d both been working their asses off since
they got here, after the short service at the church for Mrs. James
the day before yesterday. She had been buried in a small graveyard
behind the church. It wasn’t too far from here, maybe ten miles, so
Ryan and Mary could visit her grave if they felt like
it.

Ryan had made it through the service okay,
even kissed his mother’s cheek before they closed the coffin, but
when the casket was lowered, he had a meltdown. Twyla was so damned
glad she had come here with him. The amount of emotional stress, on
top of the work needing to be done to make this place livable was
more than two people could handle. She had no idea how Ryan would
have done it alone.

For two days now, she’d been working with Ryan
to make it a home, instead of a dirty flophouse, which is what it
looked like before he’d taken out his hammer and saw, and she’d
broken out the broom and cleaning supplies.

The first thing she’d done was take peroxide
to the blood stains by the hearth. When Ryan first walked into the
house that sight had him on his knees having a breakdown, and Twyla
couldn’t blame him. This house had a very bad vibe to it, and they
needed to change that. Mary deserved a home filled with love and
light. Something she’d probably never had before, and so did Ryan.
Ripping down the old, drab drapes and opening the windows had
helped, but now they had to either replace them with blinds or new
curtains, because it was hotter than hades in the house. Ryan was
out back working on the old air conditioning unit, hoping he could
save it by adding a little Freon. Or at least helping it limp along
until he could buy a new unit.

According to him, most of his savings had been
invested in a rough stock herd with her brother Zack. Bucking bulls
that were being kept at Cord and Dean Dixon’s ranch. He didn’t have
enough left in his savings to pay someone to do the repairs. He had
enough to buy supplies to do it himself, but it would take him
forever.

Twyla suggested he sell either Dean, Cord or
her brother his share of the stock, but he said he was in too deep,
and Zack probably wouldn’t agree to anything he suggested. They
weren’t on speaking terms. Because of her.

Twyla’s lower lip trembled and she bit it.
Zack was hardheaded and could hold a damned grudge a long time,
Twyla knew that firsthand. He was as stubborn as a mule, but he and
Ryan had been friends a helluva long time, and Ryan needed him
right now. Zack should be here, hammering right alongside
him.

If Zack were in the same situation, Ryan would
be there for him. She was going to talk to her brother. Set things
straight. Ryan didn’t know it, but this morning she’d also used his
phone to call their rodeo friends. Lucky, a bull-rider friend in
their circle, said he would talk to the others, but he thought they
could probably come out Thursday morning, as long as they made it
back by Saturday morning to ride. Something good was happening. The
next circuit stop was in Houston. The guys could stay longer, help
more.

Ryan needed to call the admin office and quit,
but when she mentioned it he had walked off. She knew it was
killing him to have to give up riding, but he had to realize he
couldn’t continue. He had a child now. But Twyla wasn’t going to
push him. Ryan would do it soon, she was sure. When he was ready
and had resolved himself to that fact.

Twyla heard a whistle and spun on her knees.
Ryan stood there wiping his forehead with a bandana. “It looks
amazing in here, baby.”

“
I’m not done yet. How’s the
a/c?”

“
Given up the ghost. There’s no
patching it, the compressor is gone.” His eyes narrowed, and a
muscle worked in his jaw. “There’s no telling how long they’ve
lived here without air. We need to go buy some fans to get the air
moving.”

“
I think Coop used to do a/c work
with his dad,” Twyla suggested. Coop Wiley was a bronc rider now,
but before he went pro, he also worked in his father’s air
conditioning and refrigeration company. Cowboys helped their own,
so she knew if he couldn’t fix the unit, he could get one at a
discount. His family was three hours from Houston, but they could
go pick it up if needed.

“
I don’t want the guys out here,”
Ryan said shortly as he walked through the archway into the
kitchen. Twyla followed him, because this is something he needed to
bend on.

He needed help, and stubbornness wasn’t going
to get that for him. “Ryan, I’ve already invited them out here.
They’ll be here tomorrow, and can stay til Saturday
morning.”

He spun toward her to shout loudly, “I
said
I don’t want them here!”

Twyla’s head rocked back and she flinched.
Ryan had never raised his voice to her before, and she couldn’t say
she liked it.

Ryan’s shocked face went white, and he ran
over to pull her against his chest. A groan rumbled through his
chest, then his voice low and tortured, he said, “I’m so sorry for
shouting, baby. It will never happen again.”

“
Ryan, it’s not like I’ve never
been yelled at before. I didn’t appreciate it, but don’t be so
dramatic.” Twyla pushed against his chest, but he wouldn’t let her
go. “Ryan, let me go. I have to finish the walls.”

“
No, kiss me,” he said his hand
going into her hair to tilt her head back, before his mouth covered
hers, tasting salty. His kiss held an edge of desperation, a tone
of remorse, but nothing remotely like love. “Tell me you don’t hate
me, Twy,” he whispered as his lips brushed hers a final
time.

“
I could never hate you, Ryan.
I’ve loved you too long,” she said with frustration, stepping back
from him. This man was a basket case. His emotions were so close to
the edge these days, that he would end up falling apart when the
social worker got here. That would never do. Mary would get upset,
and the social worker might not leave her. “But don’t yell at me
again, or I’ll leave. And you need to take a break. Go out to the
barn and mess around, do something other than work. You need to
pull yourself together, because when Mary and that social worker
get here falling apart is not an option. Got that?”

He didn’t look relieved, he looked more
frustrated as she turned and walked out of the room. She picked up
the sponge from the bucket, and angrily scrubbed a nasty spot on
the wall. An hour more and she would be done. One hour and she
could take a shower and get her own self together, so she could
help him keep it together.

Twyla only hoped that by the time she left
next week, he’d have a better handle on things. On himself. Mary
needed him to be strong, and the man who had just kissed her, the
man he’d become since they’d come to this house—that was it. This
house was making him act this way, and no amount of cleaning was
going to change that. This house held too many memories for him to
be happy here.

She dropped the sponge in the bucket, then ran
into the kitchen. Ryan was leaned over the chipped porcelain sink
with his head bent. The faucet was running, so Twyla ran over there
and shut it off. The old well pump didn’t take kindly to running
for long stretches, and she wanted a shower. She put her hand to
his cheek and turned his face toward hers. He wouldn’t meet her
eyes, because he was crying. He pulled his face away and turned
away.

“
Ryan look at me. I understand,”
she said calmly. “I know what’s going on with you.”

His head spun and he fixed his angry tortured
eyes on her face. “How the hell could you know? You’ve never lived
it Twy—this place is killing me one minute at a time. Every time I
turn a corner, I see him hitting my mama. I never lived here, but I
lived it, before I left home.”

Twyla slipped her arms around his waist and
hugged him. “I think it would do both you and Mary to start fresh
somewhere else.”

“
That can’t happen. I’m stuck
here, because I’m poor. I’ve worked my ass off since I was too
young to work, and this is what I’ve earned.” He snorted, then
shook his head. “Oh and a bunch of bucking bulls I have no use for,
and can’t do a damned thing with.”

Twyla eased back and her arms fell to her
sides. “Ryan, if you want my help, I’m here to help. If you want to
have a pity party, you do it by yourself. Yeah, this sucks, but
unless we work together to figure something out, I’m spinning my
wheels. This is your life, not mine. I have my new life back in
Dallas. You need to find yours.” She turned toward the archway.
“I’ll call Heather to come and get me.”

She took one step then a sound like that a
wounded animal would make turned into a fierce roar.
“Nooo
ooo
!! Ryan grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.
He dropped to his knees in front of her. “Please don’t leave,
Twyla. I’m so sorry, baby. I lo—” he swallowed a couple of times.
“I promise I’ll stop feeling sorry for myself.” He hugged her knees
and his shoulders shook. “I just feel so overwhelmed with all this.
I’m trying, fuck I really am.”