Pressure Rising (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Pressure Rising (Rhinestone Cowgirls Book 2)
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Punching the pillow twice, she plopped her head into the middle and sighed. DJ’s big head had apparently worn down the puffiness. She slid the pillow between her legs and laid her head on the firmer, smaller one. But then thoughts of DJ’s head on the very pillow that she now had tucked between her inner thighs invaded her stability.

Moisture filled her panties. She pushed the pillow lower between her knees. The last thing she needed was to leave her own scent for him to find. Instead of feeling better, the throb in her core beat like a heavy drum.

Em teased her once saying that Pearl had gone so long without a man that she’d forgotten the true misery of needing sex.

Pearl huffed. She understood, all too well, what desire felt like. It had lodged at the apex of her thighs, and it was DJ’s fault.

She hated the betrayal of her body—and hated that the one person who made her temperature rise and her southern lips glisten would not be suitable for a resolution. She had no doubt he disliked her as much as she did him—probably even more now.

Disappointment washed over her. DJ liked a different type of woman than her, obvious by his visitor today. Diana had big firm breasts and an hourglass figure. Pearl lacked in both. And why did she suddenly care? She’d never worried about her looks before. In fact, she’d always had confidence in that department…but being around DJ who probably could have any female he desired with a flash of heroic smile and white teeth, made her suddenly worry about her ass being tight enough, her breasts full enough, and whether she could satisfy a man.

Burying her face deep into the pillow, she moaned, wishing she could scream. Not a good idea. DJ could break a stitch, get an infection, and then she’d be stuck with him a little longer.

And why, oh why, didn’t that sound repulsive?

 

 

Chapter Four

 

“Where are you going?” Pearl caught DJ wobbling to the front door after breakfast. Although he still had some mobility difficulties, she did see that he was no longer grimacing every time he moved.

He stopped at the door and leaned against the wall. “I’m going out and hosing off.”

“Hosing off?” She lifted a brow.

“Since I can’t make it upstairs to shower, I’m going to do the next best thing. My brothers and I used to hose off every day so we wouldn’t trample mud into Mama’s house. She’d whooped us good.”

Swallowing laughter, she wasn’t surprised DJ found ‘hosing off’ to be comparable to taking a shower. “You’re not supposed to get the stitches wet. It hasn’t been forty-eight hours. Plus, you have outer stitches that need well taken care of.”

“You’re not a nurse,” he mumbled.

“But I do have Google. Look it up.” Since she’d gotten up at sunrise that morning, after tossing and turning most of the night, she’d kept her distance from DJ. She’d made him breakfast with bacon, and he’d seemed pleased, along with strong coffee, which made him appear even happier. She’d needed her caffeine fix too. By the way his hair stuck up at every angle, and the dark circles rimming his eyes, she guessed he’d slept about as poorly as she had. At least she’d taken a shower and it helped, so she understood his agitation.

“Look up on Google if a cowboy gives a shit. I’m ready to get these damned things out and get back out on the land. I know what cabin fever means and I’m going stir crazy. And I want to smell better.” He sniffed his armpits and wrinkled his nose.

Apparently the awkwardness between them was fading. “It’s only been one day.”

“One day can feel like a dozen.” He scratched his jaw.

“Why not call in Diana for a sponge bath?” What should have been sarcasm sounded more like jealousy. Big fail.

He gave his head a quick shake. “No, I’m not asking her for a bath. She wouldn’t want to help.”

This news shocked Pearl. What woman would turn down the chance to touch a six-foot cowboy with a body that dreams are made of? “Why not? Engagement off?”

“Diana and I were never engaged.” He smirked. “And I can’t ask her to come out here every little bit. She’d tell me to shove it because she has better things to do. And she has a kid to take care of.”

“Yeah, if she has a kid, she definitely doesn’t need to take care of a big baby. I just figured she was disappointed because you couldn’t perform right now…you know…considering…” Against better judgment, she shot a glance below his belt. She had no control over her thoughts as she pondered what a brawny man like DJ liked a woman to do in bed. Probably things she’d never heard of or learned about in seventh grade health class. Rolling a condom on a banana was nothing like the real thing…that she did know.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she was ashamed at the sudden onslaught of need released within her. She could be in deep trouble.

“Swee—I mean, Pearl, I’ve never had any trouble with performance, and if you keep making references to my capabilities I’m going to start thinking you’re interested and I might be forced to educate you.” His wide grin made him seem almost dangerous, at least to her willpower.

Heat swept from her cheeks to the tips of her toes. She cleared her throat. Time to change the subject. “I won’t be giving you a sponge bath. That’s outside of my duties.” She couldn’t believe that she didn’t find it totally nauseating. Disliking him didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Hell, she’d dreamt about it enough.

With a disgruntled expression, he sighed. “I’m not a shy man, but I think I’d draw a line before I let you wash my body. I’m not disabled.”

“I will change your bandage when you’re done. I’m not going too chance you getting an infection forcing me to stay here one minute longer than what’s necessary. And I dare you to say one peep in argument.” It wasn’t as if she looked forward to seeing his bare rump—at least not a lot…well, maybe more than she should. The glimpse she got wasn’t disappointing.

She shouldn’t notice how tight his butt and thighs were and the way the worn denim stretched over the muscles like a candy wrapper. Or how pretty his eyes were and the heat they stirred inside of her. His prominent jaw line that was covered in a layer of prickly stubble and his plump bottom lip shouldn’t spur fantasies. All of his physical characteristics did evil things to her nether lips that a visit with her toy wouldn’t satisfy.

The spark between her legs grew into a fireball—building every minute that she was near him. She was beginning to think Jewels was right—there was an undeniable attraction here and Pearl was too busy fighting it.

Skin scorching from her internal war, she stepped away, needing space. On her way out of the living room, she mumbled, “I’ll make you a redneck bath. Anyone who uses a hose to shower off shouldn’t mind washing from a bowl.”

In the kitchen, she poured him a large basin full of water, all while imagining him running a wet cloth over his sinewy muscles, along each hard curve and the length of his…

“It’s over flowing.”

She jumped at the sound of his voice and the bucket tilted, splashing water down the front of her. Turning off the faucet, she settled the container on the counter and gained her equilibrium. Would he be able to see straight through her and into her naughty thoughts? She guessed she was blushing three shades of red.

Once some of the heat left her cheeks, she carried the water to the table and pushed it to the middle along with the toiletries she’d gathered from upstairs. “You can sit or stand.” Seeing his brows lift and a twinkle light his pale eyes, she followed his stare. Her shirt was wet and it was now see-through. The thin red bra didn’t hide her erect nipples.

Gasping, she covered her chest with her hands. Not wanting him to see how frazzled she was, she pretended not to be humiliated. “Enjoy your bath. I’ll be waiting to take care of the bandage.” She swept past him and into the next room, inhaling deep, calming breaths. She’d seen the appreciation in his expression and she couldn’t deny the boost to her ego.

Upstairs, she removed her wet garments, trying to ignore the hushed sounds of splashing water coming through the vents. The room was directly above the kitchen and the sound traveled, teasing her imagination. A deep, husky moan tickled her eardrums and other secret places.

Pure torment.

Then quiet. He was finished.

Quickly dressing into dry clothes, she hurried downstairs.

He was already in the living room. His hair was damp, his shirt was left open, and his belt buckle hung loose, dinging as he made his way to the sofa. Her nipples tightened into painful beads.

He glanced at her, his unsmiling mouth still looked delectable. “So, you want to do this here?” His gaze locked with hers before crawling over her chest, waist, legs. She was stripped of any bit of clothing, as well as the wall of anger she erected years ago. His tongue swept across his bottom lip. Did he imagine he was licking her?

She squeezed her hands together until her knuckles popped. Was he doing this to unsettle her? If so, he was doing a good job.

Her hormones raced through her body, teasing her nerve endings and begging for a touch from one tall, sexy cowboy with twinkling eyes. She hadn’t realized before how much she liked cowboys.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

She nodded, sending her hair along her cheek and she pushed it back behind her ear. Up until now, she thought she could handle seeing DJ without his jeans, but areas of her body were awakened, sensitive spots quivered. “I’ll turn my head while you pull your pants down.” She twisted on barefoot. Never in a million years did she think those words would come from her—especially toward DJ Walters.

His deep chuckle pierced the air and pricked her nipples. She licked her lips as everything she’d ever held true about herself crumbled into little pieces at her feet. Years without sex hadn’t dampened the desire.

“I’m about as decent as I can get with my jeans pulled down to my knees.” His thick voice lifted the hairs on her neck.

She turned and found him lying face down on the couch. He’d left his blue and black striped boxers pulled up. She was grateful that he couldn’t see her face considering the stinging in her cheeks as she guessed they were as red as a strawberry.

He looked up at her and one corner of his mouth tugged upward. She wondered if he ever fully smiled? Either way, the quirked smile tugged at the strings between her heart and the apex of her thighs. She rejected the need to clamp her knees together.

“What are you waiting for, sweetheart? You wanted to do this, remember?” His words were completely erotic, and she wasn’t immune. Amusement lit his eyes.

She took in a deep breath and willed her body to stop acting like a teenager. She was a grown woman with a job to do. There wasn’t a big deal about changing his bandage. She’d seen a man’s ass before—even his. But somehow not only seeing it, but touching it too made a helluva difference. Her fingers trembled.

Get this over with.

Crossing the room, she took a seat on the cushion next to his hip. She was met with a strong smell of spice soap and it teased her nostrils. Heat shot through her loins and she became lightheaded.

“How about I manage this alone?” He shifted on the cushion.

“I can do this, in my own time. It’s not like you have someplace to be,” she said firmly. Her body shuddered, matching the seesawing of her voice.

He sighed and it vibrated the cushion. Not exactly the best thing for her sensitive core. After gathering the first aid kit, she dug out what she needed with her shaky fingers.  The oxygen seemed depleted as she forced air through her nose. “I’m going to touch your waist and slip down the elastic band of your boxers.”

DJ swung his gaze around again and met hers over his broad shoulder. “Are you seriously going to narrate this?”

She gave her head a shake. “I’m nervous.” She couldn’t hide the obvious.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bite. I might get a little turned on and this position might get uncomfortable, but that’s as far as I’ll let it go.”

Her gasp snapped the air.

“Take it as a compliment, darlin’.”

She couldn’t tell if he was joking because his face was buried in the pillow.

What was wrong with her? Why was she allowing him to mess with her mind?

Lowering his boxers, the backs of her knuckles skimmed his warm, smooth skin still dewy from the bath. The flesh below his underwear was much paler compared to the rest. And the man had a rock hard bum, perfectly shaped. Of course he would, considering he was in the saddle a lot.

Grabbing the end of the bandage she knew this wouldn’t be easy, so she counted to three inside of her head and gave it one fast tug.

“Yeowl!” His butt tightened.

“I did it as quickly as I could.” She stifled a laugh. The wound was red, but it was healing nicely. “Looks good.” Realizing what she’d said, she cleared her throat. “I’m talking about the stiches…the wound is nice…the area around it is nice too…I mean…no sign of infection.”

She’d just slaughtered any chance of handling this like an uninterested, grown woman.

 

****

DJ wanted to laugh at her stuttering, but hell if he could. If he spoke a word or made a move he’d probably divulge that his cock was thick and suffocated by the cushion.

A throb took up residence in his balls. He wanted to adjust himself, but to do that, he’d have to shift and slide his jeans lower on his legs. He wouldn’t have minded, but poor Pearl might pass out. Her breathing was already labored…and he couldn’t deny he found it refreshing.

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