One Night Rodeo

  Kyle pulled her into his arms to try to get her calmed down. And to keep his laughter hidden because in her panic-stricken frame of mind she’d rack him if she heard it.

  She finally stopped shaking. She buried her face in his neck and breathed deep. “I hate mice.”

  “I know you do, baby.”

  “That whole fucking couch was a mouse hotel. And graveyard. That’s why it smelled so bad. It was filled with dead mice.”

  “Hey, now. It’s out of the house.”

  She sniffed. “I probably smell like mouse piss.”

  “No. You don’t.”

  “I probably have mouse shit in my hair.”

  “I haven’t seen any. I promise.”

  One last shuddering breath and she stepped back.

  His cell phone rang. He glanced at the number. “Cele, it’s the lawyer.”

  “Take it. I’m fine.”

  Kyle ambled down the driveway, half listening to the lawyer while keeping an eye on his wife, who seemed…too calm in the aftermath of her hysteria.

  Celia glared at the offending couch. Suddenly her body seized up. She threw her arms in the air, shouted, “That’s the last fucking straw!” and stomped up the porch, disappearing into the garage.

  What the hell?

  Celia returned. Holding a gas can.

  Oh. This wasn’t good.

  “Bill, I’ll have to call you back.” He hung up and approached her very, very cautiously. “Celia? Sweetheart? What are you doin’?”

  She was muttering to herself as she emptied the entire can of gas all over the couch.

  No. She wouldn’t.

  Kyle watched, his mouth hanging open, as Celia yelled, “Fry, motherfuckers!” and then lit a crumpled piece of newspaper and tossed it on the gasoline-soaked couch.

  A ball of fire shot into the air.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  She’d set the couch on fire.

  In the front yard.

  Maybe his kitten wasn’t as tamed as he’d thought.

  And yeah, maybe he was just a little afraid of her.

  Celia turned around and beamed at him. “Will you keep an eye on this while I shower?”

  “Ah. Sure, honey, no problem.”

  Kyle was still watching the flaming couch when Josh’s rig pulled up.

  Josh stood next to Kyle without saying a word.

  Finally Kyle said, “She really hated the couch.”

  “I guess.” Josh pointed to the easy chair teetering on a snowbank. “Is that one next?”

  “No. I’m afraid she’ll use it as target practice.”

  Josh laughed. “So besides your flambéed furniture, how are things goin’?”

  “Besides the shit ton to do around here?”

  “Ready to sell yet?”

  “Ask me next month.” Kyle sighed. “In the interest of keeping the fire danger down, will you come inside and help me remove the bed from our room?”

  “Why? Is she planning to roast marshmallows and weenies on it later tonight?”

  “Funny.”

  “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it off your hands.”

  Kyle wondered if Ronna would have the same objections to a used bed that Celia did. “What do you plan on doin’ with it?”

  “Putting it in the barn so I’ve got a place to crash during calving.”

  “It’s yours.”

  The couch was mostly cinders, but they covered the smoking remains with snow anyway before they went inside and dealt with the old mattress.

  Right after they’d loaded it into Josh’s truck, Celia bounded down the steps in her long black duster, looking as fresh and pretty as a spring flower.

  “Ready to go to town, Kyle?”

  “I reckon.”

  “You guys need anything?” Celia asked Josh.

  “Ronna wouldn’t say no to chocolate ice cream.”

  “I might need your help wrestling the new bed into our room when we get back.”

  Josh nodded. “I’ll swing up after I see your truck go by.”

  Kyle wasn’t much of a shopper and he inwardly groaned when Celia bragged that she’d compiled four lists.

  The first stop was a discount furniture store. After choosing a king-size bed, they sat on, inspected, and price-compared every single living room set in the place. Celia finally decided on a couch, love seat, and chair trio, in a color the salesman referred to as Spanish moss. She also insisted on taking a fabric sample to find coordinating accessories, which threw Kyle for a loop. He’d never pegged tomboy Celia as the type to give a shit about that kind of girly domestic stuff.

  She’s never had the chance to. She’s never had a place of her own.

  That thought made Kyle a lot more indulgent at the home goods store.

  It also prompted him to participate in the bedding selection process. But he zoned out when she compared towel thickness and colors and debated about rug shapes and patterns. Took two carts full of stuff before she finally quit browsing.

  He rallied at the hardware store. While she looked at living room paint samples and bedroom paint—when had he agreed to that?—he picked up a few things he’d need, including the rodent repellent powder Josh had recommended.

  Kyle put his foot down when she suggested stopping at a carpet store and an electronics store and a fabric store.

  Yet…he admitted he liked grocery shopping with Celia. Not only because she let him crowd her when he pretended to look at the grocery list, but he’d never had this type of intimacy. Buying food and planning to cook meals they’d share for the next week.

  At the end of her very long list, she asked, “Can you think of anything else?”

  “Do you have stuff to make me cookies?”

  Celia looked up at him sharply. “You never mentioned cookies.”

  Kyle pressed her against the boxed noodles. “I crave sweet stuff, especially if it’s warm and sticky. It’s your wifely duty to satisfy my craving. To make sure my mouth is always busy. Tasting. Licking. Nibbling. On something.”

  She went utterly still.

  But Kyle noticed the quickening pulse in her neck. The rapid rise and fall of her chest. He couldn’t decipher the expression in her gray eyes, though. “What?”

  “I want you. So bad I’m thinking about jumping you in the pasta aisle.”

  So the look was lust, which caused his lust to skyrocket. He kissed her. Not sweetly. When they finally broke apart, he growled, “We shoulda bought two sets of sheets, because we’re gonna set the first ones on fire four seconds after I get you home.”

  “We’ve had enough fire-related incidents today. So how about if you…fuck me through our new mattress.” Celia nipped his jaw. “Twice.”

  He suspected they hit the world speed record for grocery checkout.

  On the way home, he realized she hadn’t said anything. “Your ribs are feeling better? Because, kitten, there’s no rush to do a little mattress dancin’ if you’d rather wait another day or two.”

  Celia snapped, “Keep up the teasing, funny man, and I’ll rip your clothes off right now and not give a shit if you wreck your pickup.”

  Kyle snickered. And adjusted the crotch of his jeans.

  Josh’s truck wasn’t far behind Kyle’s. Celia insisted on carrying in the groceries while they brought the bed and box spring inside. Kyle only half listened to Josh. His entire focus was on the frenzied sounds coming from the kitchen. Cupboard doors slamming. Bags rattling.

  Celia hustled into the bedroom and dug through the bags of household goods. She had the puffy white mattress pad spread out on the bed in about fifteen seconds.

  “Cele, do you need help—”

  “No.” She looked up at him, hunger blazing in her eyes. “Josh’s ice cream is melting on the kitchen counter. He might wanna get it home right away.”

  Talk about melting. She was burning him alive with those mercury-colored eyes of hers.

  Josh chuckled. “I get it. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on t
he way out.”

  Kyle handed the ice cream over and Josh grinned. “Newlyweds. I remember those days. Vaguely. Have a great night.”

  Kyle locked the door, kicked off his boots, and thought about stripping on his way back to the bedroom, but that’d be hard to do at a run.

  Celia had just finished putting on the bottom sheet. She crawled across the bed toward him. Then she was on him, mouth fused to his as she unhooked his belt. Making greedy, sexy noises as she tried to inhale him.

  “Celia,” he said between kisses, “slow down.”

  “No. Touch me. Put your hands all over me. Please.”

  “Hold still.” He grabbed the bottom of her shirt, carefully pulling it up and over her head. He groaned at her very girly red bra, dotted with white hearts. Kyle’s mouth sought the gentle slope of her breast, kissing along the lacy edge, down to the V and back up the other side.

  And Celia was trying to de-pant him.

  “Stop. You wanted me to touch you and I am.”

  “But I wanna touch you too.”

  “We’ll take turns.” Good idea. Maybe he wouldn’t come at that first thrust if they slowed this down. “My shirt next.” Celia focused on the buttons. He tipped her chin up. “Huh-uh. Take it off while you’re kissin’ me. Because I cannot get enough of this mouth.”

  Her kisses were sweet, and hungry, and made his cock harder yet. After the buttons were undone, she groaned. “No fair. You’re wearing a T-shirt.”

  “You’re wearin’ a bra, so we’re even.” Kyle strung kisses down her neck and dropped to his knees in front of her. Unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, he slid the denim down the curve of her hips and her long, long legs. He inhaled the scent of her arousal as he pressed his mouth over the black cotton panties. His greedy hands squeezed her butt cheeks, so tight and round and firm.

  She impatiently kicked the denim aside and pulled him back to his feet. “My turn.” Her palms followed the contours of his chest to the waistband of his jeans. His belt was already undone. He swallowed a groan when she lowered herself to the floor. Keeping her eyes on his, she mouthed his cock through the denim, blowing warm air up the length, then scraping her teeth down. She cupped his package and unzipped him quickly, then hooked her fingers in his belt loops and yanked down his jeans.

  Sneaky woman kissed straight up his body, over his briefs and T-shirt until she connected with his lips again.

  Kyle clamped his hands on her ass, bringing her groin to his. Damn, she fit against him perfectly. His fingers traced her spine to the bottom band of her bra. One tug and it hit the floor.

  Celia broke the kiss. Her hands frantically jerked his T-shirt over his head.

  He shimmied her panties down her legs.

  She tugged his briefs off.

  Celia. Naked.

  Him. Naked.

  Him naked with Celia.

  Fucking finally.

  He cupped her breasts, strumming the base of his thumbs over her nipples.

  “Kyle. Hurry the hell up. I don’t wanna wait. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever.”

  “I know, baby. But you’ve gotta let me touch you a little more.” He bent his head. She probably expected he’d suckle those sweet nipples. But his mouth connected with her collarbone and he kissed from one side to the other. “You’re so strong. But this part of you is so delicate.”

  She shifted closer to him.

  Her impatience buoyed him to save his in-depth oral worship of her feminine curves until they’d sated this need. “Celia,” he whispered against her throat. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You. Kyle, I want you.”

  His lips traced the outer rim of her ear, down to her earlobe, where he tugged with his teeth. “So take me.”

  She stepped back and pushed him onto the bed, releasing a throaty laugh.

  He scooted into the middle of the mattress and crooked his finger at her.

  His sex kitten pounced on him.

  Okay, so this first round would be fast. He was good with that.

  Celia straddled his groin, positioning his arms above his head. Mapping his wrists, forearms, biceps with her hand. Squeezing his muscles and releasing a feminine sigh of appreciation. Kicking his lust into high gear with the seductive way her mouth moved on his. Deep, tongue-thrusting kisses. Little nips with her teeth. Choppy breathing he felt against his damp skin.

  “I want to touch every part of you,” she whispered against his lips.

  “Feel free.”

  She smiled against his cheek. “You must have something in mind for me later if you’re letting me have my wicked way with you now.”

  “Such a smart girl.” Kyle touched her face. So damn beautiful with the flush of arousal on her cheeks and her mouth ripe from his. “But you will do one thing for me, right now.”

  “What?”

  “Unbraid your hair.”

  “Why?”

  “You have no idea how many fantasies I’ve had about you ridin’ me, this golden hair surrounding us. Like a curtain hiding us in our own little world.”

  Her lips curved into a soft smile. “You have a romantic streak.”

  Kyle refused to be embarrassed that she’d noticed that about him. Few women had.

  “I really like that about you,” she said, touching his face.

  “I’m also a visual guy.” His hands caressed her thighs. “And a tactile guy. So this really pushes all my buttons.”

  “Well, I’m all about pushing your buttons, bull rider.” Celia draped the heavy braid over her shoulder. She kept her eyes on his as her fingers unthreaded the strands. At the halfway mark, she let the plait fall behind her back to undo the remainder. As soon as her hair hung loose, she seemed unsure.

  “Shake it free. Let me see all of it.”

  She tossed her head.

  “God. You’re beautiful. Come here,” he said.

  Her long locks drifted over them as she bent to kiss him.

  Kyle filled both hands with the soft waves, groaning when the honeyed scent of her shampoo teased his nose and her silken hair caressed his skin. He was utterly lost in the feel of her, the taste of her, the scent of her. He wanted to make this moment last forever.

  But Celia had other ideas. He felt her hand circle the base of his cock.

  Yet she paused. She lifted her mouth from his and he saw that her eyes were heavy-lidded with want.

  “Ride me,” he murmured huskily.

  She scooted her lower half backward, aligning his cock with her warm, slick center. Then she slowly lowered onto him until his hardness filled her completely. Her head fell back and she moaned.

  Damn. She was hot, that lithe body so still, yet coiled tight. And wet. Holy fuck, was she wet.

  Their eyes met. Held. Celia moved with the ease and grace of an athlete. No wasted motions. She angled forward, using his chest to give her leverage until his cock was buried to the base. Followed by a long, slow withdrawal. Keeping only the head of his cock just inside the entrance to her body, she squeezed her pussy muscles around it.

  “That’s good. Again.” Talk about an understatement. He’d never felt anything that good. That right.