Page 4 of Spurred On
“You didn’t think to lead with that?” That’s why the guy looked so familiar. Damn my liquor-hazed brain.
“Nah.” He shakes his head with a cocky grin and I can’t help but stare. It’s no wonder why all the girls went crazy over him. He was pretty on the screen, but up close? No comparison.
“Well then. Come show me how it’s done,” I challenge, a little surprised at my own boldness. But I will never ever see this guy again, so who cares?
He gracefully hops over the side, which is impressive considering it deflates a little with touch, and somehow, my brain decides that it was really attractive.
“Alright, the trick is to stay loose.” Funny. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a man say that to a woman. “May I?” His eyebrows raise with his question.
My gaze locks on his, and good lord, he may just be the most handsome man I have ever seen. I nod as his hands graze over the top of my thighs, and I feel flames up my body. His rough hands stick against the fabric of my body suit, and my skin erupts in goosebumps. “Except for these, your thighs need to squeeze this bull like your life depends on it.” Little does he know I’m squeezing my thighs for other reasons. He’s probably used to women fawning over him. So, I cool my features in a weak attempt to play it cool.
I make a show of squeezing my legs, and his hand drops away. “Good, now put a hand up to counterbalance.” Regret already fills my body, even buzzed this is embarrassing. Maybe I should just wear my boring badge with honor from here on out. It’s gotten me pretty far if I do say so myself.
Reluctantly, I put my hand up. He nods his cowboy hat to me, and I can’t fight the blush that fills my cheeks. He looks over to the operator and waves before stepping back until his body is flush with the side of the pen, signaling it’s go time.
Oh God. Now I’m nervous. My heart starts to race, and my palms suddenly feel clammy. I think he sees the flare of panic in my eyes. “Squeeze and stay loose.” He gives me a thumbs up, and I nod my head.
The bull roars to life under me, jerking side to side and then front to back. Staying loose while you are scared shitless is not as easy as it would seem. I force my body to relax and figure out which way the bull will move next. When the back of the bull rears up, I lean back, hand in the air, somehow still firmly planted on the bull thanks to my thigh’s death grip. I let out a laugh. This is actually fun.
I last one whole second after that before I go flying off the side. I land flat on my back, laughing. Mystery man is in front of me, a wide smile on his face. He grips my hand, the connection of skin making little zaps shoot through me. Maybe I’m more buzzed than I thought. He helps me to my feet and I realize I’m still smiling like an idiot.
“I was wrong, you do know how to have fun.” He keeps his hands on mine, and I feel a flush rush over my body.
“Be sure to tell my friends that. I’m tired of them calling me grandma.” He shakes his head. He lifts the hand still holding mine in the air, as if I’m the heavyweight champ who just won a boxing match. The crowd goes wild and I nervously look at his profile, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and the way his nose is slightly crooked. Probably broke his face flying off a bull.
He turns his head to look at me. “Think they’re louder for you than they were for me.” I shyly shake my head. “Now, I think you owe me a drink.” He drops my hand, and we start our exit from the pen.
“Sure, but only if you tell me your name.”
“What, you don’t know?” He looks genuinely shocked.
“Not a clue. I remember seeing your face on the screen but I have no idea who you are.”
He looks a little surprised but holds out his hand for me to shake. “Maverick Ryder.”
A little chuckle bubbles up. “You ride bulls and your last name is Ryder? How original.” We exit out the back of the ride, nodding to the operator.
He scoffs. “Hey, it’s not like I came up with my last name.” I roll my eyes, and he leads us to the bar. It isn’t lost on me that he still hasn’t let my hand go. And it isn’t lost on me that I’m not sad about it. Maybe I could have one night of fun with him. Just one. Then I can go back to real life and start fresh on Monday.
We sit at the bar and start talking. Sharing embarrassing stories I wouldn’t dare tell someone I planned on seeing again.
“Oh, you think that’s bad? In high school, I walked around half the day with a pair of my underwear stuck to my leg.” The mortification from that has haunted me every day since.
He laughs into the beer and takes a sip before spilling another of his stories. “If it makes you feel better, one time I had to dart out of the locker room, covering my junk with my hat, because my best friend thought it would be funny to steal my clothes.” The people around us gawk as uncontrollable laughter seeps out of me.
Erin not so secretly walks by about every three minutes to make sure I’m not freaking out. I eventually give her the leave me alone look and she stays back. I’m not freaking out or wanting to get away. Just the opposite. It feels good to flirt. It feels good to let loose and laugh.
With every drink, I feel more relaxed, a little lighter. He goes round for round with me until his eyes start to look a little hazy.
“I like your hat.” I flick the tip of it, a girlish giggle bubbling up.
“Want to try it on?” he asks. It then dawns on me that I lost my hat at some point tonight. It probably flew off when I got bucked off the bull.
“Are you sure? You might not want to wear it anymore when you realize it looks better on me.” I wink at him and his face lights up.
“Oh, I’m sure.” His hand rests on my thigh and sparks erupt in my core. How can a light little touch do that?
Taking his hat, I place it on my head, and the smile that stretches across his lips is absolutely sinister. His hand no longer rests on my thigh, it grips it, and good lord, I think I might combust.
