Read Take Me, Cowboy Online

Authors: Maisey Yates

Take Me, Cowboy (13 page)

Then things would shift, and he would become something else entirely. A stranger. Sex, sin and all the things she'd never taken the time to explore. She liked that, too.

She was starting to get addicted to both.

“Oh, I can handle myself just fine,” he said, his tone hard.

“Can you handle me?” she asked.

He slid his hand down to cup her ass, his eyes never leaving hers as they swayed to the music. “I can handle you. However you want it.”

“Hard,” she said, her throat going dry, her words slightly unsteady. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to say that.

“You want it hard?” he asked, his words sounding strangled.

“Yes,” she said.

“How else do you want it?” he asked, holding her against him, moving in time with the beat. She could feel his cock getting hard against her hip.

“Aren't you the one with the lesson plan?”

“You're the one in need of the education,” he said.

“I don't want tonight to be about that,” she said, and she was as sure about that as she'd been about wanting it hard and equally unsure about how she knew it.

“What do you want it to be about?”

“You,” she said, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Me. That's about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

Only everything.
She shied away from that thought. “Show me what the fuss is about.”

“I did that already.”

Something hot and possessive spiked in her blood. Something she never could have anticipated, because she hadn't even realized that it lived inside of her. “No. Something you don't give other women, Chase. You're my friend. You're...more to me than one night and an orgasm. You're right. I could have gotten that from a lot of guys. Well, maybe not the orgasm. But sex for sure. My coveralls aren't that much of a turnoff. And you could have any woman. So give me you. And I'll give you me. Don't hold back.”

“You're...not very experienced.”

She stretched up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. “Did I ask for a gentleman? Or did I ask for hard?”

He tightened his grip on her hair, and this time when she looked up at his face, she didn't see a stranger. She saw Chase. The man. The whole man. Not divided up into parts. Not Her Friend Chase or Her Lover Chase, but just...Chase.

He was all of these things. Fun and laid-back, intense and deeply sexual. She wanted it all. She craved it all. As hard as he could. As much as he could. And still, it would never, ever be enough.

“Go ahead,” she said, “take me, cowboy.”

She didn't have to ask twice.

He propelled them both backward, pressing her up against the truck, kissing her deeply, a no-holds-barred possession of her mouth. She hadn't even realized kissing like this existed. She wasn't entirely sure what she had thought kissing was for. Affection. A prelude to sex. This was something else entirely. This was a language all its own. Words that didn't exist in English. Words that she knew Chase would never be able to say.

And her body knew that. Understood it. Responded. As surely as it would have if he had spoken.

She was drowning. In this, in him. She hadn't expected emotion to be this...fierce. She hadn't really expected emotion at all. She hadn't understood. She really had not understood.

But then she didn't have the time to think about it. Or the brainpower. He tugged on her hair, drawing her head to the side before he pressed his lips to her tender neck, his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin before he closed his lips around her and sucked hard.

“You want it hard?” he asked, his voice rough. “Then we're going to do it my way.”

He grabbed hold of her hips, turning her so that she was facing the truck. “Scoot just a little bit.” He guided her down to where the cab of the truck ended and the bed began. “Grab on.” She curved her fingers around the cold metal, a shiver running down her spine. “You ever do it like this?” he asked.

She laughed, more because she was nervous than because she thought the question was funny. “Chase, before you I had never even given a guy a blow job. Do you think I've ever done this before?”

“Good,” he said, his tone hard, very definitely him. “I like that. I'm a sick bastard. I like the fact that no other man has ever done this to you before. I should feel guilty.” He reached around and undid the top button on her top. “But I'm just enjoying corrupting you.”

He undid another button, then another. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath the top. Because, frankly, when you were as underendowed as she was, there really wasn't any point. Also, it made things a little bit more easy access. Though that wasn't something she had thought about until just now. Until Chase undid the last button and left her completely bare to the cool night air.

“I'm kind of enjoying being corrupted.”

“I didn't tell you you could talk.”

She shut her mouth, surprised at the commanding tone he was taking. Not entirely displeased about it. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently before moving his hands down her stomach, bringing them around her hips. Then he tugged her skirt down, leaving her in nothing but her boots and her underwear.

“We'll leave the boots on. I wouldn't want you to step on anything sharp.”

She didn't say anything. She bit her lip, eagerly anticipating what he might do next. He slipped his hand down between her thighs, his fingertips edging beneath her panties. He stroked his fingers through her folds, a harsh growl escaping his lips. “You're wet for me,” he said—not a question.

She nodded, closing her eyes, trying to keep from hurtling over the edge as soon as his fingertips brushed over her. But it was a pretty difficult battle she was waging. Just the thought of being with Chase again was enough to take her to the precipice. His touch nearly pushed her over immediately.

He gripped her tightly with his other hand, drawing her ass back up against his cock as he teased her between her legs with his clever fingers. He slipped one deep inside of her, continuing to toy with her with the edge of his thumb while he thrust in and out of her slowly. He added a second finger, then another. And she was shaking. Trembling with the effort of holding back her climax.

But she didn't want it to end like this. Didn't want it to end so quickly. Mostly, she just didn't want him to know that with one flick of his fingertip over her sensitized flesh he could make her come so hard she wouldn't be able to see straight. Because at the end of the day it didn't matter how much she wanted him; she still had her pride. She still rebelled against the idea of revealing herself quite so easily.

She probably already had. Here she was, mostly naked, out underneath the stars. Here she was, telling him she wanted just the two of them, that she wanted it hard. Probably there were no secrets left. Not really. There were all sorts of unspoken truths filling in the silences between them, but she felt like they were easy enough to read, if he wanted to look at them.

He might not. She didn't really want to. Yet it didn't make them go away.

But she could ignore them. She could focus on this. On his touch. On the dark magic he was working on her body, the spell that was taking her over completely.

He swept her hair to the side, pressing a hot kiss to the back of her neck. And then there was no holding back. Climax washed over her like a wave as she shuddered out her release.

“Good girl,” he whispered, kissing her again before moving away for a moment. He pushed her panties down her legs, helping her step out of them, then he kissed her thigh before straightening.

She heard him moving behind her. But she didn't change her position. She stood there, gripping the back of the truck. Dimly, she was aware the radio was still on. That they had a sound track to this illicit encounter in the woods. It added to the surreal, out-of-body quality.

But then he was back with her, touching her, kissing her, and it didn't feel so surreal anymore. It was too raw. Too real. His voice, his scent, his touch. He was there. There was no denying it. This wasn't fantasy. Fantasy was gauzy, distant. This was sharp, so sharp she was afraid it would cut right into her. Dangerous. She wanted it. All of it. And she was afraid that in the end there would be nothing of her left. At least nothing that she recognized. That his friendship wouldn't be something that she recognized. But they'd gone too far to turn back, and she didn't even want to anymore. She wanted to see what was on the other side of this. Needed to see what was on the other side.

He reached up, bracing his hand on the back of her neck, holding her hip with the other as he positioned himself at the entrance to her body. He pressed the blunt head of his erection against her, sliding in easily, thrusting hard up inside her. She gasped as he went deeper than he had before. This was almost overwhelming. But she needed it. Embraced it.

His hold was possessive, all-encompassing. She felt like she was being consumed by him completely. By her desire for him. Warmth bloomed from where he held her, bled down beneath the surface of her skin, hemorrhaged in her chest.

“I fantasized about this,” he said, the words seeming to scrape along his throat. Rough, raw. “Holding you like this. Holding on to your hips as I did this to you.”

She couldn't respond. She couldn't say anything. His words had grabbed ahold of her, squeezing her throat tight, making it impossible for her to speak. He had fantasized about her. About this.

This position should feel less personal. More distant. But it didn't. That made it... It made it exactly what she had asked for. This was for her. And this was him. What he wanted, not just the next item on a list of things she needed to learn. Not just a set routine that he had with women he slept with.

He slid his hand down along the line of her spine, pressing firmly, the impression of his possession lingering on her skin. Then he held both of her hips tight, his blunt fingertips digging into her skin. He thrust harder into her, his skin slapping against hers, the sound echoing in the darkness. She gripped the truck hard, lowering her head, a moan escaping her lips.

“You wanted hard, baby,” he ground out. “I'll give it to you hard.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Who are you saying yes to?” There was an edge to his words, a desperation she hadn't imagined he would feel, not with her. Not over this.

“Chase,” she said, closing her eyes tight. “Yes, Chase. Please. I need this. I need you.”

She needed all of him. And she suddenly realized why those thoughts about having someone to spend her nights with had seemed wrong. Because at the end of the day when she thought of sharing evenings with someone, when she thought of curling up under a blanket with someone, of watching
Oklahoma!
with someone for the hundredth time, it was Chase. It was always Chase. And that meant no other man had ever been able to get close enough to her. Because he was the fantasy. And as long as he was the fantasy, no one else had a place.

And now, now after this, she was ruined forever. Because she would never be able to do this with another man. Ever. It would always be Chase's hand she imagined on her skin. That firm grip of his that she craved.

He flexed his hips, going harder into her, then slipped his fingers around between her thighs again, stroking her as he continued to fill her. Then he leaned forward, biting her neck as he slammed into her one last time, sending them both over the edge. He growled, pulsing inside of her as he found his release. The pain from his teeth mingled with the all-consuming pleasure rolling through her in never-ending waves, pounding over her so hard she didn't think it would ever end. She didn't think she could survive it.

And when it passed, it was Chase who held her in his arms.

There was no denying it. No escaping it. And she was scraped raw. As stripped as she'd been after their first encounter, she was even more exposed now. Because she had read into all those empty, unspoken things. Because she had finally realized what everything meant.

Her asking him for help. Her kissing him. Her going down on him.

Her not having another man in her life in any capacity.

It was because she wanted Chase. All of Chase. It was why everything had come together for her tonight. Why she'd realized she couldn't compartmentalize him.

She wasn't ready to think the words yet, though. She couldn't. She did her very best to hold them at bay. To stop herself from thinking the things that would crumble her defenses once and for all.

Instead, she released her hold on the truck and turned to face him, looping her arms around his neck, pressing her bare body against his, luxuriating in him.

“That was quite the dance lesson,” she said finally.

“A lot more fun than it would have been in Ace's.” He slid his hand down to her butt, holding her casually. She loved that. So much more than she should.

“Yeah, we would have gotten thrown out for that.”

“But can you imagine the rumors?”

“Are they really rumors if everyone has actually seen you screw?”

“Good question,” he said, leaning forward and nipping her lower lip.

“You're bitey,” she said.

“And you like to be bitten.”

She couldn't deny it. “I guess I should... I mean, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Me, too,” he said, sounding regretful.

She wanted so badly to ask him to stay with her. But he wasn't bringing it up. And she didn't know if the almighty Chase McCormack actually
slept
with the women he was sleeping with.

So she didn't ask.

And when he dropped her off at her house, leaving her at her doorstep, she tried very, very hard not to regret that.

She didn't succeed.

Eleven

T
he best thing about having her own shop was working alone. Some people might find it lonely; Anna found it a great opportunity to run through every musical number she knew. She had already gone through the entirety of
Oklahoma!
and was working her way through
Seven Brides for Seven Brothers
.

Admittedly, she wasn't the best singer in the world, but in her own shop she was the best singer around.

And if the music helped drown out all of the neuroses that were scampering around inside of her, asking her to deal with her Chase feelings, then so much the better. She didn't want to deal with Chase feelings.

“When you're in love, when you're in love, there is no way on earth to hide it,” she sang operatically, the words echoing off the walls.

She snapped her mouth shut. That was a bad song. A very bad song for this moment. She was not... She just wasn't going to think about it.

She turned her focus back to the tractor engine she currently had in a million little pieces. At least an engine was concrete. A puzzle she could solve. It was tactile, and most of the time, if she could just get the right parts, find the source of the problem, she could fix it. That wasn't true with much of anything else in life. That was one reason she found a certain sort of calm in the garage.

Plus, it was something her father knew how to do. He was his own mechanic, and weekends were often spent laboring over his pickup truck, getting it in working order so that he could drive it to work Monday. So she had watched, she had helped. It was about the only way she had been able to connect with her gruff old man. It was still about the only way she could connect with him.

It certainly wasn't through musicals. It could never have been a desire to be seen differently by other kids at school. A need to look prettier for a boy that she liked.

So she had chosen carburetors.

“But it can't be carburetors forever.” Well, it could be. In that she imagined she would do this sort of work for the rest of her life. She loved it. She was successful at it. She filled a niche in the community that needed to be filled. But...it couldn't be the only thing she was. She needed to do more than fill. She needed to...be filled.

And right now everything was all kind of turned on its head. Or bent over the back of a pickup truck. Her cheeks heated at the memory.

Yeah, Chase had definitely come by his reputation honestly. It wasn't difficult to see why women lost their ever-loving minds over him.

That made her frown. Because she didn't like to think that she was just one of the many women losing their minds over him because he had a hot ass and skilled hands. She had known about the hot ass for years. It hadn't made her lose her mind. In fact, she didn't really think she had lost her mind now. She knew exactly what she was doing. She frowned even more deeply.

Did she know what she was doing? They had stopped and had discussions, made conscious decisions to do this friends-with-benefits thing. Tricked themselves into thinking that they were in control of this. Or at least that's what she had been doing. But as she had been carried away on a wave of emotion last night, she had known for an absolute fact that she wasn't in control of any of this.

“Doesn't mean I'm going to stop.”

That, at least, was the absolute truth. He would have to be the one to call it off.

Just the thought made her heart crumple up into a little ball.

“Quitting time yet?”

She turned to see Chase standing in the doorway. This was a routine she could get used to. She wanted to cross the space between them and kiss him. And why not? She wasn't hiding her attraction to him. They weren't hiding their association.

She dropped her ratchet, wiped her hands on her coveralls and took two quick steps, flinging herself into his arms and kissing him on the lips. She wasn't embarrassed until about midway through the kiss, when she realized she had been completely and totally enthusiastic and hadn't hidden any of it. But he was holding on to her, and he was kissing her back, so maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it was okay.

When they parted, he was smiling.

Her heart felt tender, exposed. But warm, like it was being bathed in sunlight. Something to do with that smile of his. With that easy acceptance of what she had offered. “I think it's about time to quit,” she said.

“I like your look,” he said, gesturing to her white tank top, completely smeared with grease and dirt, and her coveralls, which were unbuttoned and tied around her waist.

“Really?”

“Last night you were my dirty country girl fantasy and today you're a sexy mechanic fantasy. Do you take requests? Around Christmas you could go for Naughty Mrs. Claus.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the end of her tank top and knotting it up just under her breasts. “Maybe more like this? Though I think I'm missing the breast implants.”

His smile turned wicked. “Baby, you aren't missing a damn thing.”

Her heart thundered harder, a rush of adrenaline flowing through her. “I didn't think this was your type. Remember? You had to give me a makeover.”

“Yeah, that was stupid. I actually think I just needed to get knocked upside the head.”

“Did I...knock you upside the head?”

“Yeah.” He wrapped his arms around her bare waist, his fingertips playing over her skin. “You're pretty perfect the way you are. You never needed a dress or high heels. I mean, you're welcome to wear them if you want. I'm not going to complain about that outfit you wore last night. But all that stuff we talked about in the beginning, about you needing to change so that people would believe we were together... I guess everyone is just going to have to believe that I changed a little bit.”

“Have you changed?” she asked, brushing her thumb over his lower lip. A little thrill skittered down her spine. That she could touch him like this. Be so close to him. Share this kind of intimacy with a man she had had a certain level of emotional intimacy with for years and years.

It was wonderful. It also made her ache. Made her feel like her insides were being broken apart with a chisel. And she was willingly submitting to it. She didn't know quite what was happening to her.

Are you sure you don't?

“Something did,” he said, his dark eyes boring into hers.

“You know,” she said, trying to tamp down the fluttering that was happening in her chest, “I think it's only fair that I give you a few lessons.”

“What kind of lessons?” he asked, his gaze sharpening.

“I'm not sure you know your way around an engine quite the way you should,” she said, smiling as she wiggled out of his hold.

“Oh, really?”

She nodded, grabbing hold of a rag and slinging it over her shoulder before picking up her ratchet again. “Really.”

“Is this euphemistic engine talk?”

“Do you think I'm expressing dissatisfaction with the way you work under my hood?”

He chuckled. “You're really getting good at this flirting thing.”

“I am. That was good. And dirty.”

“I noticed.” He moved behind her, sweeping her hair to the side and kissing her neck. “But if you're implying that I didn't do a very good job...I would have to clear my good name.”

“I was talking about literal engines, Chase. But if you really want to try to up your game, I'm not going to stop you.”

“What's that?” he asked, reaching past her and pointing to one of the parts that were spread out on the worktable in front of her.

“A cylinder head. I'm replacing that and the head gasket on the engine. And I had to take a lot of things apart to get to it.”

“When do you need to have it done?”

“Not until tomorrow.”

“So you don't need me to play the part of lovely assistant while you finish up tonight?”

“I would like you to assist me with a few things,” she said, planting her hand at the center of his chest and pushing him lightly. The backs of his knees butted up against the chair that was behind him and he sat down, looking up at her, a predatory smile curving his lips.

“Is this going to be a part of my lesson?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I thought it might be.”

Last night had been incredible. Last night, he had given her something that felt special. Personal. Now she wanted to give him something. To show him what was happening inside of her, because she could hardly bring herself to think it. She wanted... She just wanted. In ways that she hadn't allowed herself to want in a long time. More. Everything.

“What exactly are you going to teach me?”

“Well, I could teach you all the parts of the tractor engine. But we would be here all night. And it would just slow me down. Someday, we can trade. You can give me some welding secrets. Teach me how to pound steel.”

“That sounds dirty, too.”

“Lucky me,” she said, stretching her arms up over her head, her shirt riding up a little higher. She knew what she wanted to do. But she also felt almost petrified. This was...well, this was the opposite of protecting herself. This was putting herself out there. Risking humiliation. Risking doing something wrong while revealing how desperately she wanted to get it right.

But she wanted to give him something. And honestly, there was no bigger gift she could give him than vulnerability. To show him just how much she wanted him.

She swayed her hips to the right, then moved them back toward the left in a slow circle. She watched his face, watched the tension in his jaw increase, the sharpness in his eyes get positively lethal. And that was all the encouragement she needed. She'd seen enough movies with lap dances that she had a vague idea of how this should go. Maybe her idea was the PG-13-rated version, but she could improvise.

He moved his hand over the outline of his erection, squeezing himself through the denim as she continued to move. Maybe it wasn't rhinestones and a miniskirt, but he didn't seem to mind her white tank top and coveralls. He was still watching her with avid interest as she untied the sleeves from around her waist and let the garment drop down around her feet. She kicked it off to the side, revealing her denim cutoff shorts underneath it.

“Come here,” he said, his voice hard.

“I'm not taking orders from you. You have to be patient.”

“I'm not feeling very patient, honey.”

“What's my name?”

“Anna,” he ground out. “Anna, I'm not feeling very patient.”

“Not enough women have made you wait. You're getting spoiled.”

She slid her hand up her midsection, her own fingertips combined with the electric look on Chase's face sending heat skittering along her veins. She let her fingers skim over her breast, gratified when his breath hissed through his teeth.

“Anna...”

“You know me pretty well, don't you? But you didn't know all this.” She moved her hand back down, over her stomach, her belly button, sliding her fingers down beneath the waistband of her shorts, stroking herself where she was wet and aching for him. His fingers curled around the edge of the chair, his knuckles white, the cords on his neck standing out, the strength it was taking him to remain seated clear and incredibly compelling.

“Take them off,” he said.

“Didn't I just tell you that you're not in charge?”

“Don't play games with me.”

“Maybe patience is the lesson you need to learn.”

“I damn well don't,” he growled.

She turned around, facing away from him, taking a deep breath as she unsnapped her shorts and pushed them down her hips, revealing the other purchase she had made at the store yesterday. A black, lacy thong, quite unlike any other pair of underwear she had ever owned. And she had slipped it on this morning hoping that this would be the end of her day.

“Holy hell,” he said.

She knew that she was not the first woman to take her clothes off for him. Much less the first woman to reveal sexy underwear. But that only made his appreciation for hers that much sweeter. She swayed her hips back and forth before dropping down low, and sweeping back up. It felt so cheesy, and at the same time she was pretty proud of herself for pulling it off.

When she turned to face him, his expression was positively feral.

Her shirt was still knotted beneath her breasts, and now she was wearing work boots, a thong and the top. If Chase thought the outfit was a little bit silly, he certainly didn't show it.

She moved over to the chair, straddling him, leaning in and kissing him on the lips. “I want you,” she said.

She had said it before. But this was more. Deeper. This was the truth. Her truth, the truest thing inside of her. She wanted Chase. In every way. Forever. She swallowed hard, grabbing hold of his T-shirt and tugging it up over his head. She licked her lips, looking at his body, at his chest, speckled with just the right amount of dark hair, at his abs, so perfectly defined and tempting.

She reached between them, undoing his belt and jerking it through the loops, before tugging his pants and underwear down low on his hips. He put his hand on her backside, holding her steady as she maneuvered herself so that she was over him, rubbing up against his arousal. “I would never have considered doing something like this before last week. Not with anyone. It's just you,” she said, leaning in and kissing his lips lightly. “You do this to me.”

He shuddered beneath her, her words having the exact effect she hoped they would. He liked feeling special, too.

He took hold of her hand, drawing it between them, curving her fingers around him. “And you do this to me. You make me so hard, it hurts. I've never wanted a woman like this before. Ever.”

She flexed her hips, squeezed him tighter, trapping him between her palm and the apex of her thighs. “Why? Why do you want me like this?”

It was important to know. Essential.

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