Page 21 of Eight Seconds to Fly

Then I gave the nod.

The gate shot open andJack Hammerwent with it. My muscle memory kicked in as I moved with the bull, but part of my subconscious was cheering as he turned into my hand. Yes! I held on, my thighs tight, my core locked, and I rode that bull. There was nothing else out in the arena. Hell, there was hardly a Tessa May andJack Hammer. Just woman and beast.

When the buzzer went off, I startled so hard I almost fell forward over his head. Barely holding on, I loosened my hand, but came off the bull weird, landing way too close to his slamming hooves. One grazed my thigh and I grunted as the full weight of the bull got me, but I scrambled out from under his belly before the next one got me in the head.

Bullfighters rushed in, and one of them grabbed me by my vest, dragging me out of the way as all the ropes came loose from the bull and he trotted out of the arena with self-satisfied air.

I looked at the clock.

Eight seconds.

I stood up, limping hard, but I ripped my helmet off. The crowd was going crazy as I threw it in the air and cheered along with them. I fucking did it. I belonged here. One of the bullfighters came over and slapped me on the back, handing me back my helmet and rope as I hopped toward the exit.

Calypso was there with a microphone, her grin infectious. “T.M., you rodeJackhammerfor the full eight seconds. How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I’m flying. I knew if I got lucky and he turned into my hand, I could ride him.Jackhammerhas been around a long time and I’ve watched dozens of his tapes. I knew that I could ride him if that one small thing went my way.”

Calypso looked like she wanted to hug me. “And you did. Well done, T.M. We look forward to seeing what you can do tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” I said as I wandered off, and straight into Beau. He wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me into the private treatment room. They were no more than haphazard cubicles, but at least I could wince back here without them judging me for being a pussy. Stupid analogy.

Let me tell you, if a pussy is their standard of weakness, they don’t know jackshit about childbirth. Or respect the fact that it bleeds like you cut a damn artery and still lives on to fight another day. Pussies are like the Chuck Norris of body parts. Take a literal beating and come back asking for more.

You know what is soft and useless? Balls.

Beau just blinked at me, and I realized I said all that out loud. He held up both his hands. “Hey, I’m not going to argue, makes perfect sense to me.”

He helped me unstrap my chaps and vest, hanging them over a chair. I popped the buttons on my jeans and shimmied them down my legs. This wasn’t a profession for being shy. I remember the first time I hurt myself, the sports medicine doc was a guy older than dirt and had probably seen everything. He hadn’t so much as blinked at me, and when I’d hesitated, he’d given me a gruff word. “Girl, you’ve got nothin’ I ain’t seen before. Unless you are keepin’ a two-headed calf in those Wranglers, I ain’t interested in anything you got going on.”

I still grinned at the memory.

Now, Beau helped me up onto the folding table. There was a big black bruise on my thigh, almost perfectly crescent shaped. It was seeping a little blood from surface cuts, but all in all, it didn’t look too bad.

It had been worth it for that eight seconds. I grinned even as Beau prodded the wound, stretching out my leg, twisting my knee and hip this way and that with impersonal hands. “Just soft tissue damage, you should be good Nugget.”

“Did you see me, Beau?” I asked softly, and his eyes slid up from my thighs to my face. “I saw you, Nugget. You were fucking beautiful. Powerful.”

I swallowed hard, the high of winning rushing through my veins. I blamed what happened next on the endorphins. I grabbed Beau’s head and pulled him toward me, mashing my lips to his, kissing him like my very next breath depended on it. He stood frozen for a second, then he was kissing me back. He moved his hands down my spine as his tongue slipped into my mouth. I bit his lip, dragging it between my teeth. He pulled away, panting.

“Tessa May,” he whispered, and I didn’t know if it was a prayer or a question, but either way it didn’t matter. I needed this right now. Needed to make this moment perfect.

I toed off my boots, and pushed my jeans the rest of my way down my legs. “Beau. I want you,” I gasped, and I watched his whole body tense like he couldn’t quite believe it. Hell, I couldn’t quite believe it either, but I knew I wanted this right now, more than anything.

Besides, he wasn’t a rider, right? My principles were fine.

“I could never say no to you, Nugget. Not when you were thirteen begging me for your first kiss and not now.”

He stepped between my thighs, and his hands grabbed my hips, pulling me to the edge of the table so my soaked panties were rubbing against the hard front of his jeans. He kissed me again, groaning into my mouth as he ground against my core and I moaned.

He slipped his hands under my shirt, his fingers tracing up my stomach until they slid across the strapping on my chest. Fuck, my tits were aching for his mouth, but I didn’t want to stop to get them undone.

“I’ve dreamt about your tits. One day soon I am going to have my tongue wrapped around them, you mark my words,” he growled against my lips before kissing his way down my throat.

My hands fumbled with his belt buckle, getting it undone in seconds. If bra clasps were the bane of a man's existence, then a belt buckle was a woman’s. Seriously, trying to do it drunk may as well be trying to undo a chastity belt. But right now, I was only drunk on my win and the smell of Beau filling my senses, the taste of him on my lips.

Finally I popped the buckle, and made short work of the button and zip of his Wranglers. I slid my hands into his boxers, wrapping my hand around his already hard cock. He let out a ragged breath, resting his forehead on my shoulder. “Jesus fuck, Tessa May.”

I grinned at his response. I thought some part of me, the logical, sensible part, would be rebelling at this recklessness, but there was nothing. This was just a sense of rightness that washed over me, like my body knew it belonged to Beau. I pushed his jeans down over his ass, until his cock was rubbing against the wet crotch of my underwear.

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