Emily's Cowboy (12 page)

“Yep, think you’re spot on, Rook, and I love everything about the thought.” Gareth took in the sight of Pippa and Emily deep in conversation, heads bent towards each other. The sound of laughter filtered back to him, making him grin even more.

“Cowgirl’s a good one—she’s been staying with Pippa and me the last few nights and I gotta say I like her. Way too good for you, though. Lucky I’ve got Pippa in my life, Cowboy, or I’d be taking her off your hands. It would be sad to take another woman from you, buddy, but hey, no-one can resist my charming ways.”

It was always the same between Rook and Gareth—the good-natured banter—but normally it was Gareth giving Rook grief, so he couldn’t help the tinge of jealousy over Rook’s teasing.

“Keep your hands off my woman, Rook,” Gareth growled before he could stop himself.

“Ha, love it! Feels different when the shoe is on the other foot, hey, Cowboy? Cowgirl and I had a few chats about you—she’s head over heels for you mate, got nothing to worry about there. Shame you forgave her so quick, though. Plan B was a belter.”

The smirk on Rook’s face intrigued Gareth. He tried to persuade Rook to go into more detail, but the man wouldn’t be swayed, refusing any more information until Gareth had returned from the bar with another round of drinks. Gareth took off like a shot—the quicker he bought the drinks, the quicker he would hear the story that had caused the smirk.

Gareth excused himself through the crowded club and found a space at the bar, hoping to gain the attention of the bar manager, Mick, and receive some preferential service—he was, after all, buying the club owner a drink! Gareth didn’t notice the women around him—that was normal; he never did—but he was furious when he heard snippets of the conversation next to him.

“If my face was that ugly I’d never leave my house. She looks like something out of a zombie movie.”

 “I know what you mean. You would think she could at least put some makeup or something over all the gross skin. God, makes me wanna puke just looking at it. Must be some charity case for the Jets team. Can’t think how else she got into the VIP area.”

Gareth stood there with his mouth gaping open. He could not believe the viciousness of the women’s words. Fuck, what if Emily had heard them? They had summed up all her fears, had spoken them aloud. How dare they discuss his Emily so hatefully? He saw red.

The two women had been speaking so loudly that a few other heads had turned towards the Jets VIP area to gawk. All Gareth knew was that he was close to erupting. He had never hit a woman, had never even thought about it before, but he was close now. At hearing his Emily disrespected—by a couple of bitter groupies, no less—he was close to losing control. This was what she’d had to put up with. This was exactly what she had been afraid of, why she had pushed him away. There was no way Gareth was about to let this go, no way he was letting this type of inhumane person get away with treating the woman he loved so rudely…but if he made a scene, Emily would want to know why.

Gareth weighed the outcomes up in his head. Emily didn’t deserve to be placed at the centre of attention by him or the women. If he took them to task about their behaviour, it could just escalate the attention focused on his Emily. But Gareth just couldn’t let them get away with it. He was in a quandary. He almost missed Mick’s question the first time around.

“G’day, Gareth. Same again, is it—one for you, Rook and some bubbly for the babes? Great game today—would it have anything to do with that gorgeous woman you walked in with tonight?”

Gareth caught the wink Mick sent his way as he placed the tray in front of him. He also heard the women beside him gasp at Mick’s question, felt them swing around to stare at him.

“Gotta know it, Mick, finally got my woman down to the city. Took me a while to convince her to come. She doesn’t think much of city folk, thinks them rude. I’ve been trying to convince her that not all you city slickers are bad, but it’s a hard call, especially when so many of the city women are nothing but bitter sluts.” Gareth turned his angry stare full force on the women beside him, their eyes now wide, mouths gaping unattractively at his comments.

 “Know what you mean, mate, but not all city women are like these two,” Mick said as he pointed directly at the women. “In fact, they are not the sort of clientele we’re looking for at Jetstream—brings down the whole ambience of the place,” Gareth watched as Mick removed the drinks from in front of the startled pair.

“Hey, you can’t do that…” one of the women shrieked.

“Guess what, doll? That’s exactly what I can do, and more. Hey, Jerome…” Mick shouted to the doorman. Gareth watched as the gigantic Polynesian-born doorman sauntered towards the bar manager.

“Whassup, Bru? Got a job for me?” the doorman said, his Pacific Islander accent heavy, his size dwarfing most of the men standing at the bar. Jerome’s sleeves were rolled partway up his arms, the tribal tattoos encircling his massive forearms clear to see, adding to the menacing look of the man Gareth knew to be friendly and easy-going in reality.

“Sure do, Jerome. Escort these two pieces of work out, and don’t ever let me see them in here again. We don’t want the likes of these in our club, mate—vicious, bitter and twisted types. Don’t want to get a reputation for encouraging lowlifes in the club. Our patrons deserve better. Don’t you agree, Gareth?”

Gareth could not respond to Mick, he was so choked up with emotion. Having friends—people who looked out for you and those you loved—was what it was all about.

The patrons seated at the bar had all gone quiet, listening in and watching as Jerome handed the two women their bags and pointed towards the exit. Both women were shouting and swearing like sailors at the treatment they were receiving, calling the club a shithole
and various other derogatory names as they were ushered unceremoniously out of the door.

Gareth finally found his voice. “Thanks for that, mate,” he said to Mick, and noticed the knowing smiles from the patrons around him—smiles that confirmed they agreed with Mick’s description of the two evicted women.

“No problems, Gareth, they deserved it. Take your drinks back, enjoy the night, let me do my job and keep the riff-raff away.”

“Cheers, Mick.”

Gareth picked up the tray and headed back to Emily and the others. The smile on his face was not as genuine as before, as the reality of Emily’s life and what she’d had to put up with every day became more apparent to him.

“What took ya so long, Cowboy? My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut!” Rook greeted Gareth as he returned.

“Mick got distracted dealing with some rubbish removal. He’s one hell of a bar manager,” Gareth replied. “Here, take the beers while I deliver the bubbles to our girls.”

Gareth took the bottle of champagne and headed towards Emily and Pippa. The smile Emily rewarded him with did wonders to lift his spirits, and he couldn’t refrain from delivering to her smiling lips a possessive, hungry kiss, to a background chorus of, “Get a room, Cowboy!”

“Wow, what was that for, Gareth?” a breathless Emily responded when he’d ended their embrace.

“Because I love you, sweetheart.”

Pippa’s slightly intoxicated sounding giggles at his admission and Emily’s dreamy-looking smile removed the disturbing overheard conversation from his mind.

“Hey, Cowboy, don’t you want to hear my story?” Rook said as he squeezed past Gareth to take a seat next to his giggling fiancée. “Hey, sugar, I need a piece of that action too. Can’t have Cowboy showing us up. Plant those sweet lips on mine.”

Pippa climbed onto Rook’s lap and, throwing her arms around his neck, she smothered Rook’s mouth with hers. While Rook and Pippa were lip-locked, Gareth took the opportunity to sit down next to Emily and drag her onto his own lap, then he filled up both empty champagne glasses, balancing Emily on his legs with no effort at all.

When Rook and Pippa finally separated, both flushed in the face from their kiss, Gareth reminded Rook of his promise to expand on their earlier conversation. The smirk returned to Rook’s face before he spoke.

“Well, it’s like this, Cowboy. Cowgirl and I had devised a plan B, if you needed more encouragement towards the whole getting back together. Plan B involved me and the boys filling your belly with whisky and tying you to your bed. It’s a shame you didn’t play harder to get, my man, because I gotta say, the wicked look that Emily got at the idea of having you bound and at her mercy led me to believe she had thought up some truly torturous measures of getting you to see it her way.”

Gareth’s stomach quivered as he imagined himself tied up and at Emily’s mercy. The thought also had his cock coming to life, encouraged along by the wiggling movements of Emily’s bottom, positioned on his lap. Her sexy giggle just added to his growing discomfort.

Gareth was reminded of a time years ago when he and Emily had experimented with ropes. Both had found enjoyment in the experience, and it had been one of Gareth’s most often-recalled memories in the years he and Emily had been apart.

They’d been sharing a picnic lunch. Seeing Emily sprawled out on the blanket, her arms above her head, had given Gareth the idea. He’d convinced Em to take off her clothes and let him tie her up. It hadn’t taken much cajoling on his behalf—they had always been keen to try new experiences, and eager to take advantage of any situation where they were unlikely to be disturbed. After wrapping some of their clothing around the skin of her wrists and ankles to protect it, he had bound her using his lasso and the ropes from his saddle, so that her arms and legs were spread and secured between two bushland trees. It had given him complete, unhindered access to her body.

Taking his time, he’d closely examined and admired every inch of her. Using a branch from a eucalypt tree, he’d tickled her body, watching Emily squirm and struggle, unable to get free, held completely captive by the ropes and at his mercy. Gareth had been captivated by the sight of her pretty pussy spread before him like a banquet to rival no other. Using his thumbs, he’d gently opened her glistening folds so he could take his fill of her inner wet, pink beauty.

Emily had been shy at first, saying that she was embarrassed to be on display and so vulnerable, but it had not taken long before Gareth had had her begging him to bring her to orgasm. He hadn’t at first, refusing to let her peak, enjoying both the playful torment of bringing her close to release and the power he had over her fulfilment.

Gareth remembered how wet Emily’s pussy had become, her fragrant juices dripping from her slit, filling his mouth with her essence. He had lapped up the evidence of her arousal greedily, gently nipped at her clit, tapped at the sensitive nub with his tongue. He had let his lips travel along her prone and secured body, delivering kisses upon her heated skin, journeying up until he’d reached her breast. Sucking one hard and protruding nipple deep into his mouth, he’d finger-fucked her tight channel slowly, then with more vigour. He had thrust one finger, two fingers inside her, stretching her in readiness for his aching, rock-hard cock, exploring all of her pussy, her body, leaving nothing untouched or unloved by either his greedy mouth or his hands.

“I want to try the other way, Gareth.”

He remembered those words exactly. Her voice had sounded hesitant, a hint of insecurity in the tone, but there had been a look of complete and utter trust on her face as she’d spoken them. Gareth had wanted to sink his cock into her rosy, puckered hole from the second he’d first set eyes on it. The thought of his dick rubbing in between her creamy buttocks as he thrust into the virgin hole had been a delight of which he could only dream. It had felt a little wrong, a bit kinky, to want such a thing. He and Emily had spoken of the idea and had agreed to try it, maybe one day in the future. So Gareth had certainly not been going to refuse her request. He’d quickly freed her from the makeshift restraints, then rubbed the skin on her wrists and ankles to make sure he had not caused her any harm. Then Gareth had repositioned Emily on her on her hands and knees in front of him. Her arse had stuck out before him like a tempting feast.

“Baby, are you sure you about this? I gotta tell ya, just seeing your sexy bottom in front of me like that has me half out of my mind with lust. I don’t want to cause you any pain.”

“I’m sure, Gareth. Please, touch me now.”

Emily’s reply had been music to Gareth’s ears, but he had still worried that he would not be able to control himself. He’d needed to make sure Emily was ready for him. Gareth had remembered the lotion that Emily had always carried in her saddlebag to protect her skin from the harsh climate.

“Em, do you still carry that cream in your saddlebag?”

Just squeezing the generous dollops of moisturiser into the palms of his hands, to help lubricate the tight opening of her puckered hole, had caused fluid to leak from his eager cock. Taking his time, Gareth had stretched the tight ring of muscles in her anus.

Emily had groaned and panted in response, the noises she’d made confirming her thorough enjoyment. Gareth had also used the juices that had streamed from her weeping pussy to help lubricate his dick. He had taken his time, breaching her slowly, trying to be gentle. But her cries of desire had filled his ears. His cock had grown hard and thick at the erotic picture before him, and at the sound of his Emily pleading for him to fuck her.  

Sweat beads had rolled down his back and off his brow, as he’d finally managed to seat himself fully inside her. All the while, he’d repeated phrases like, “Easy, Em…” and “Are you okay, baby?” both in his mind and out loud.

The pleasure he’d felt had been so extreme, so mind-blowing, that Gareth had known it would only take the slightest movement for him to explode, his seed filling her anal passage for the first time.

It had been a truly heady moment—the scent of their arousal mixed with their perspiration and the fragrant bushland surroundings had filled his nostrils. He had been almost out of his mind with the desire to thrust into that sinful tightness that squeezed at his cock like a satin glove. He’d leaned his torso forward over her back, his knees digging into the land beneath them, his groin hard against her soft cheeks as his cock had throbbed inside her, leaking his essence into her. He had felt the movement of her chest as she’d taken each heavy breath, felt the heat of passion emanating from their joined bodies. It had been a fantasy, heaven and a sensuous savagery all mixed into one. He’d felt so dominant with Emily on her knees under him, her head cushioned against her folded arms on the ground. So submissive. Her trust in him unwavering.