Ah, shit. He’s gonna make the perfect real husband one day.
I take his hat off, and set it on the chair next to his dresser. I’d love to keep it, but I’d love even more to see it on him tomorrow and remember tonight. I slip my tank top on, then gather my skirt and panties off the floor, but don’t put them on. “That’s sweet.” I want to gush, I want to kiss all over his handsome face, crawl on top of him and massage that sore spot he’s been nursing between his shoulder blades, and fall asleep with my head on his chest and my hands down his pajama pants,ifhe wears them.
“Do you wear pajama pants?”
His brows pull together. “Yeah. I got a kid, after all.”
I nod. “True.” My heart is racing, and every single part of me feels like crawling into bed with him. But he doesn’t offer, so I don’t stay. “See you in the morning. Sleep good. Thanks for the orgasm.”
I stop my camera, which was recording us. I’ve only ever made documentaries, but where Landry is concerned, I’d love to expand into private adult films. When I leave here, I’ll get some mileage out of this video.
Before I open the door, he stops me. “Should I… get condoms?”
I lick my lips. “Do you want inside me?”
He shrugs. “I’ll get some condoms.”
“Good night.”
“‘Night.”
CHAPTER 16
YES, “COWBOY” IS A KINK
It’s beena few days since I got hitched, and the whole thing is so strange, it almost doesn’t feel real. Waking up, I stretch my legs and elongate my spine as I let out my normal morning moan. I stare at the four walls of my room, stark white and already bright as hell since the one window in it faces the sun. And the sun, in Texas, seems to almost always be awake and angry.
I glance at my phone and discover I have a glorious eighteen minutes before my alarm goes off. Landry moved his morning training to the evening, since he’s been tending to some colicky mares with the town veterinarian, who can only make house calls to the ranch when it’s early before her practice opens.
Landry training at night is a sight. A day’sworth of work on his features, staining his jeans and smeared over his T-shirt, the ridge of sweat marking his hat, his callused hands caked with earth. Add in him climbing onto a wild animal and taming it, and I’m totally and utterly sprung.
These mornings back home would be filled with me time, the time where I know everyone else is asleep and I can make myself feel good, privately.
I reach down, past the elastic band in my faded pajama pants, and into my panties, finding myself swollen and warm. Oh yeah. I had a dream about Landry last night, and in it we were getting married, for real. Silly dream, but man did it get me wet.
Slowly, I circle my clit with two fingers, then stop, my eyes popping open.
Landry agreed to be mine to use. That means even if he isn’t getting anything out of it, I can use him for my pleasure. He and I haven’t fooled around since our naked dry humping the other night, mostly because we’re damn busy.
I had interviews in town this week, opting to leave the ranch when Tate and Landry were working on the tractor, the last piece of running equipment that Vaughn Ranch has. I met Max Hardaway, one of the other bareback bronc riders that’s competing this season. He told me he wants to win, but he expects Landry to snag the title. I filmed our conversation, and he had a lot of wonderful things to say about all of his competitors. In fact, all of them did.
Doesn’t help the cowboy kink I’ve got going, that’s for sure.
I still can’t believe I’m fake married, and in the face of that deal, I bartered to get myself some hot cowboy sex. I feel a little bit like a hooker, and a little bit like a genius, a split I’m okay with.
I slip out of bed and down the hall, stopping by Sadie’sdoor to make sure she’s still asleep. Not only is she asleep, but her alarm doesn’t go off for another hour and a half.
Slowly, I turn the knob to Landry’s room, relieved when I discover it isn’t locked.
A groggy-eyed cowboy lifts his head from the pillow, dark hair sticking up everywhere. “You okay?” he asks, voice lined with sleep, thick from exhaustion. I nod my head, and quietly click the door closed behind me, twisting the lock, too.
I don’t say a word as I sashay across the room and climb into bed with him, sitting on top of him because he’s twice my size and can handle it. With my legs tucked beneath me, I reach back and fish my hand into his pajama pants, finding exactly what I came for.
Well, the truth is, I planned on coming in here, locking the door, and riding his face until I explode, so I can drift through filming today on a dreamy, orgasmic high. But now that his steely cock is in my palm and I’m straining to make my thumb and middle finger meet, my plans have changed.
“Do you know what I love?” I ask, stroking my fingers up and down his cock, slow, deliberate, torturous. God, he’s so hard that we could have sex right now, like he wakes up ready for this.
He shakes his head, fighting the urge to get lost in the way my fingertips tease his cock. “Makin’ films,” he guesses, the two words raspy and smoky. My pussy flutters, reacting to the way he sounds, the feel of him, being in his bed on top of him—all of it.
