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He tilted his head back to look at me, his eyes sparkling in the flashing neon sign from the front of the bar. He was really, really pretty. Heartbreakingly pretty.
Junior had called him Montaigne. Dylan Montaigne. Why did that sound familiar… “Holy shit, Dylan Montaigne. You came out of nowhere last year and won down in Rocksprings.”
He grinned. “At your service, Ma’am.”
I scoffed at him calling me ma’am. “Good for you. It was a good ride.” I leaned down and captured his lips, giving him one last kiss. That was it. He was now off limits. “Now get the hell outta my truck,” I joked, climbing off his lap, both of us a little breathless as his still semi-hard dick slid from me.
“Just gonna love me and leave me like that?” he teased back, but there was something in his eyes that I didn’t want to look at closely. Looked a lot like regret.
I ran my hand down his cheek, his stubble just a little abrasive. I was going to have a beard rash on my breasts tomorrow. “Sorry, Cowboy. I don’t date bull riders.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”
I slid my jean shorts back over my legs, shimmying them up my thighs. “Because you are all cocky assholes with commitment issues.”
Dylan threw back his head, his laughter just as sexy as everything else about him. “I can’t argue with that, Baby Girl. But I sure can be disappointed. I can’t convince you to come back to my hotel for round two?”
I hesitated, but shook off the begging of my hungry vagina. “Sorry, Dylan.”
He leaned over and kissed me, and I wavered again. Gah.
Finally, he shimmied back into his own jeans, doing up his belt buckle and plopping his hat back on his head.
We talked about general things as we dressed, riding and rodeo, country music songs. Between every topic he’d lean over and kiss me, and I was woman enough to say I was wavering. Finally, we were all dressed, and the silence hung between us.
“I guess I should go,” he sighed. I nodded, not trusting my voice in case I told him to stay. “This was fun. What's your last name, Tessa?”
I shook my head, a small smile on my lips. “Don’t matter, Dylan.” I leaned forward and sucked his bottom lip into my mouth making him groan. Then I leaned around him and opened the back door of my truck. He slid out and I jumped out after him. “I’ll be watching your career, though. Ride hard.”
Dylan winked and tipped his hat. “You too, Baby Girl.”
Then he turned and walked to the other side of the parking lot rather than back into the bar. I walked around to the driver’s door and climbed in. I checked my phone. Frankie had gone home with the girl, so I had the place to myself for the night.
I pulled into a convenience store, bought a gallon of ice cream and went back to the hotel. I sat up in bed and watched infomercials, eating ice cream until my eyes refused to stay open. Then I dreamed of handsome cowboys and whispered promises.
