The Cowboy's Saving Grace, an erotic western novella (Taming the Cowboy) (7 page)

The first rider stayed on the entire eight seconds, but his score was only in the 70s. She would have given him more points just for the accomplishment of staying on, but maybe at this level, that didn’t matter as much.

She looked at the chute, and could spot Liam easily, that ass in the tight Wranglers, those broad shoulders. He leaned over to give a hand to the next rider, and straightened. She imagined she could hear his laugh from where she was, saw the flash of white teeth. A sense of pride accompanied by a surge of lust ran through her as she watched him. Damn, something about the ease with which he did his job, his grace, made her want to do wicked things with him.

She shouldn’t be having these thoughts with her son in her lap.

The chute sprung open and the second rider emerged, the horse whirling and bucking to dislodge him. The cowboy shifted his weight from one side to the other to keep his balance, but overcompensated and went head first into the dirt. The entire crowd went quiet as the cowboy lay still on the ground. In her arms, Noah squirmed, and she realized she was squeezing him in her anxiety. She relaxed her hold, but didn’t take her eyes off the fallen cowboy.

Before the medics reached him, he moved, then rose to his knees and waved to the crowd. But he accepted the help of the medics to get him off the field.

She swiveled her gaze to Liam, who’d gone still, standing on the rail of the chute. Then he took his hat off and accepted a helmet from Luke. He grimaced as he strapped it under his chin, then helped the third rider adjust the nylon rope that he’d use to guide the horse. Anticipation and fear welled in her gut. She couldn’t keep her attention on the third rider as the horse Liam would ride was loaded into the chute.

She shifted Noah on her lap to watch his daddy, but didn’t think she breathed as Liam mounted, secured his grip and gave a brisk nod.

The chute sprang open and Liam’s horse, a sorrel, bounded out. The animal leaped toward the side of the ring, clearly intending to brush Liam off against the rail, but somehow Liam guided him toward the center, rocking back and forth, hand arced over his head, his other hand wrapped around a frayed nylon rope. She refused to think about what would happen if he fell and got caught beneath the horse’s hooves. Instead, she admired the roll of his body, the straightness of his back.

Before she knew it, the buzzer sounded. His eight seconds were up. Two other cowboys rode up beside him to calm his horse and release the binding beneath the horse’s belly. Liam shifted onto the back of the horse on his left, unbuckled his helmet, then slid to the ground, waving his helmet at the crowd. He crossed the arena to the rail in front of Grace and Noah, and turned to look up at the score.

An eighty-two. Pride swelled in her chest, and he turned to grin up at her, then beckoned to her. She hesitated, pulling Noah closer, but Liam beckoned again. She gathered her son up, hurried down the few steps as Liam launched himself onto the concourse. Eyes bright with his success, he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and kissed her, long and hard, in front of everyone. He smelled of horse and sweat, and she pressed closer, until Noah protested on her hip. Liam broke away to kiss his son’s head, then vaulted back into the arena and circled back to the chutes, leaving Grace dazed on the side.

***

Grace’s pulse pounded as Liam carried Noah into the fifth wheel. He hadn’t asked if she wanted to come home with him, just steered her in the direction of the RV park. In the light from over the stove, she watched him make a bed out of the couch, one-handed, and place her son—their son—on it. He reached into a cabinet overhead, pulled down a blanket and tucked it around the boy. Liam pressed a kiss to his temple, and turned to catch Grace’s hand. He led her toward the bedroom, prodding her up the two steps ahead of him, his hands on her ass, before he crowded her against the wall and slammed his mouth down on hers.

Her nipples grew instantly hard as he filled her with his taste, as he glided his hands down her side, gripping her ass, pulling her close. She wriggled against him, against the hard-on that had to hurt in those tight jeans. Inching her hands between them, she tugged his shirt free of the jeans and slid her hands beneath, over hot, smooth skin, hard abs. He groaned into her mouth and captured her hands, spinning her at the same time, turning her so her face was to the wall and his cock rubbed against her ass, his hands on her breasts, pinching her nipples through the knit of her shirt. With a flick of his wrist, he had her jeans open, and his hand down the front, stroking the strip of hair on her mons, probing deeper until he found her clit, hot and swollen.

She leaned into him, hooking her arm around his neck, rubbing her ass against his fly as he played his finger over her, circling, pressing. He pumped his hips against her butt, his breathing ragged in her ear, before he withdrew his hand and pivoted her again. He pulled her shirt and bra down below her breasts in one smooth movement. For just a second, she lamented the ruin of her blouse before he dipped his head to claim her nipple.

Oh
. She bucked her hips into his as the sensation washed over her, the pure lust of being possessed. He closed his teeth over the tip and tugged, before turning his head to her other breast, dragging his stubbled cheek over the tender flesh before sucking hard. Her knees sagged, and he circled her toward the bed.

She braced her hand against his chest before he could lower her to it. “You’ve done enough riding today. My turn.”

His nostrils flared as she reversed their positions, stripping his shirt open, rubbing her bare breasts against him as she tugged it down his arms. He chuckled when she bent her head to swipe her tongue down his sternum. Mm, salty male.

She stepped back and stripped off her shirt and bra in a less-than-graceful motion. He responded by peeling off his jeans and laying back on the bed, his cock gloriously hard. She stripped off her own jeans as he watched, his hand lightly stroking his erection, and she crawled onto the bed with him.

“Condom,” she whispered.

“Wallet,” he countered, and she twisted around to retrieve one as he rubbed his fingertips up the insides of her thighs to her pussy.

She spread her legs wider to welcome his touch, the invasion of his fingers.  He watched her face as he fucked her with two fingers, flicking her clit with his thumb, then pulling his slick fingers free to circle her rosebud.  She held his gaze when he slipped one finger into the tight ring of muscles, bordering between pleasure and pain. She moved against his hand, growing wetter at his invasion, knowing if she let him, he’d make it good for her. They’d done it before, her first time, and he’d loved it.

She edged her hips out of his reach, removing his touch.

“Tonight, I’m in charge.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, and rested his hands on either side of his head as she opened the condom and rolled it on him, squeezing the base of his shaft until he lifted his hips toward her hand.

Now that she had control, she wasn’t sure where to take it. She leaned over him and played her lips over his a moment, then lowered her mouth to his throat, letting her hair fall against his chest, slide over his skin until he closed his hands on her hips and dragged her toward his cock.

She straightened to look down at him, moving her hands over his skin before she reached between them and brought him to her, slid down on him, closing her eyes to savor the stretch of her body to accommodate him, the depth of his erection. She rolled her hips as she settled onto him, opened her eyes to see his jaw tight, nostrils flared.

“I need you to move, sweetheart.”

She pulled his hands from her waist and leaned over him, hands braced on his broad wrists on the mattress. “Don’t you come yet.”

He rolled his eyes back in his head as she tightened her muscles around him. She started with a sultry rhythm, keeping him as deep as she could for as long as she could, loving the way the head of his cock rubbed just right deep inside her. He shifted his arms beneath her hands, but she pinned them more firmly to the bed.

“You like holding me down?” he asked, his voice rough, sending skitters of desire over her skin.

She had no illusion that she had any power over him, knew he could flip her in an instant, take over, and she wouldn’t mind it. But right now...she pumped her hips over his, up and down his dick, shifting so it stroked the inside of her channel just so, right there, God, right there.

“So wet,” he murmured. “So wet. I want to come inside you, Grace.”

His words, in that husky voice, made her wetter, made her ride harder. She straightened, releasing his arms, and he immediately gripped her hips, guiding her over him, moving into her, fucking, bucking, skin slapping skin. Sweat slickened her body, and she lifted her hair off her neck, which made him groan in appreciation.He glided one hand up her waist to pinch her nipple, then down between her legs.

The light touch of his callused finger on her clit made her pussy clench, and she pistoned her hips faster, moving into his caress, her clit swelling against his strokes until everything centered around the pleasure he offered her. With a mad thrust of her hips, she took it, taking him deep as the orgasm pulsed through her, tightening her muscles, slicking their bodies.

Before the orgasm ended, she was on her back and he was fucking her, pounding into her, hard, fast, sweat dripping from his body to hers. He closed his mouth on her breast and stilled. She could feel the pulse of his orgasm deep, deep inside her, could feel the rush of his ragged breath against her skin. After a long moment, he pulled free, dropping onto his back to stare at the ceiling. When she shifted, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his chest.

“We are really good at that.”

She laughed, still a little breathless. He kissed her forehead and headed to the bathroom to clean up.

“Mommy?” a little voice asked from the other side of the sliding door. “Mommy?”

Panicked, she rolled over to grab Liam’s shirt from the floor. He held up a hand as she tugged it on and rolled to her feet. He pulled on his jeans and opened the sliding door.

“What’s up, buddy?”

Noah looked past him to Grace, who’d just snapped her panties in place.

“I need to go potty.”

“Okay, well, here it is.” He guided Noah to the small bathroom, sending a wink in her direction.

Well, hell. She was falling in love with Liam all over again.

Grace woke to find herself alone in the bed in the quiet RV. The heater hummed and sunlight streamed through the drawn shades. She stretched in the bed, the sheets cool against her skin, smelling of Liam. Then she jolted.

Where was Noah?

She rolled out of the bed, tugging Liam’s shirt down around her thighs, wincing as the snaps peeled away from her skin. “Noah?”

Silence greeted her. She slid the door open to see the RV was empty, and her heart stuttered.

“Noah?” She stumbled down the steps from the bedroom to see a note taped to the door.

Hey, Grace. Noah and I went down to the arena. Thought we’d let you sleep.

Liam

Panic tightened her chest. Okay, she knew where they were, but Liam had never taken Noah on his own. He didn’t know how to take care of the boy, didn’t know he had to watch him every minute. What if Noah slipped away and got in with the bulls? What if Liam started talking to someone else and Noah was taken?

Her mind raced as she hurried into the bedroom for her jeans and boots. Her shirt was ruined, so she dug through his drawers until she found a thick t-shirt. She tugged it on, brushed her teeth with his toothbrush, and ran a comb through her hair. She hesitated at the door. Was there a key? A way to lock it?

A set of keys sat on the counter, and she tried each until she found one that fit. She locked the door, tucked the keys in her pocket and bolted. Between freaking out and freezing, her shoulders and neck were tight when she got to the arena. She had to run from door to door before she finally found one that was open, and she slipped into the arena.

Taking a moment, she oriented herself, since this wasn’t where she’d come in yesterday. She hurried up the ramp to look at the floor itself, but no one was practicing. So they had to be in the back.

Her boots made racket on the cement floor, and she wondered if security would pop out, sending her on her way. She couldn’t let herself worry about that. She needed to get to her son.

Finally she found them—found a bunch of them, actually, several cowboys, including her son and his father. Liam was riding a horse around the pen, with Noah in front of him in the saddle, and her son, wearing his hat, was grinning ear to ear as he gripped the saddle horn. She had to admit, they made a beautiful picture, the cowboy and his son, Liam’s head tilted down to watch the boy, hat shading most of his face, one arm secure about Noah, the other hand with the reins resting on his thigh. Some of her anger dissolved at the tenderness he showed her son, but the fact remained that he’d taken her son without telling her, and scared the shit out of her.

She didn’t want to alarm him, or worse, the horse, so she didn’t storm up to the rail like she wanted. Instead, she kept her pace steady and her face raised to Liam’s so that when he looked up, he’d be clear on just how pissed she was.

“Mommy! I’m riding!”

Noah’s clear little voice rang out and wrapped around her heart, and her attention wavered from Liam’s long enough to take in the joy on her son’s face. When Noah turned back to the horse, she looked up at Liam, at the proud smile on his handsome face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Nice shirt.”

She glanced down and felt her face heat. She hadn’t looked at the words—”Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” Naturally. Ignoring the other cowboys who were snickering, she looked back at Liam.

“You should have told me you were taking him.”

“You saw the note. We thought we’d let you sleep.”

He guided the horse to the rail and dismounted, his hand still holding Noah steady on the horse. He hefted the child out of the saddle, not a popular move. Noah sent up a wail that spooked not only that horse, but every horse in the place.