Page 25 of Rough Stock
“Why?”
“Because.” He didn’t respond, just waited to see what she’d say. When the silence finally got to her, she said, “Because rodeo and the culture around it is very conservative. I’m not supposed to rope or ride in rough stock events. I’m supposed to wear a frilly apron and hang around in the kitchen, cooking for my eleven kids. I’m supposed to say, ‘Yes, dear,’ and ‘No, dear,’ and sweep and mop and all that shit. And trust me, when they find out about my family and then where I’ve been, well, they don’t want their sons dating me. Never in a million years. ‘Oh, hey, my son’s got a new girlfriend. Female bull rider who did six years in medium security in Missouri. She’s a real peach.’ Right. Like that’ll ever happen.” She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.
“Shy?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Shy, look at me.” It seemed an extraordinarily long time before she tipped her head to the side and glanced up at him from under those beautiful lashes. “Did you realize Leo’s gay?”
“No.”
“Well, he is. And Mama and Pop love him just like he is. Don’t you think they could do the same for you?”
She shrugged, a little tiny shrug that seemed to be more frustration than anything. “I dunno. Nobody ever has.”
“Shy, I don’t care that you were in prison, and they raised me. Where do you think I got that from, that thing that lets me careabout people who seem less than perfect? Because, you know, babe, none of us are perfect.”
The corners of her mouth turned up almost imperceptibly. “Well, that just blew my opinion of you.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, doll, but I’m a long way from perfect,” he said with a chuckle.
“I dunno.” Shyanna grabbed the covers and yanked them toward the foot of the bed, and the stiffy Jensen had been harboring underneath them turned to a full-fledged hard-on. Her voice was a hoarse whisper when she said, “You look pretty damn perfect to me.”
Jensen didn’t get a chance to argue with her before she engulfed him, and every question he’d had for her evaporated. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was what she was doing at that very moment. It was his whole world, and he wasn’t the least bit upset about that. She made a few sucking and slurping noises, all of which just increased his need for release. Shit, she was good with her mouth, and he’d have to remember to tell her that. At the moment, however, he was fairly certain he couldn’t speak. When he ran his fingers into her hair and tugged, she moaned deep in her throat, and the vibrations from it made him groan. “Jesus, Shy,” he whispered down to her and watched as her eyes rotated upward, reflecting the grin she couldn’t quite make work around his length. “Oh, god, I’m…” He didn’t have time to say another word before his body shook with the climax he’d been waiting for and needed so badly.
Trying to move didn’t seem like an option. He lay there, spent, and felt Shyanna move up beside him. “Good?” she asked.
“Oh, god, babe. Yeah. The word good doesn’t even touch it.” Without ever opening his eyes, he reached for her and drew her up in his arms. In seconds, he was above her, leaning down to kiss her, savoring those lips that had pleased him so thoroughlyjust moments before. When he drew back, he whispered, “Everything about you is good. No?great.”
“There’s nothing great about me,” she whispered back. “I’m a misfit and an outcast, and that’s all I’ll ever be.”
“You’re wrong, ShyannaOwens, and I’m going to prove to you that you’re wrong. You just wait. You’ll see,” he whispered into her neck, then slid down her body. “Spread ’em, cowgirl.”
He didn’t have to tell her a second time and in minutes, she exploded, her hips churning as she held a hand over her own mouth to keep herself quiet. Jensen didn’t wait, just climbed back up the length of her body, anchored his hands on either side of her shoulders, and plunged into her. Listening to her gasp and moan brought him more pleasure than he’d ever realized it could. He was pleasing her.
And he was falling for her. Fear gripped him when he realized there was a good chance she’d never care for him. She was broken?he knew that. Could she be healed? Was there any room in her shriveled-up heart for him? The idea that she loved that horse gave him hope. Shecouldlove, butwouldshe let herself love him? Even with the fear alive and well in his soul, his body carried on and gave them both what they needed, his last thrust deep and hard as her fingers dug into his waist.
He fell onto the mattress beside her and, to his surprise, she curled up against him. When he had an arm around her and the sheet pulled up over them, he lay there, still and quiet, and listened to her breathing return to normal. His free hand stroked her hair as he whispered to her, “Babe, tell me about Rainmaker.”
She trembled against him, and he squeezed her just a little tighter. “He was a three-year-old when I got him. Paid fifty dollars for him from a lady who didn’t know what he was worth. The old man who owned him died, and his daughter didn’t want the horse. He was tall, long-legged, and steel gray with a flaxenmane and tail and a long, wide, hairless scar down the right side of his face. Beautiful gelding. Got him about two months after I bought Rhubarb. He was spoiled, bratty, and an absolute angel. I worked him in barrels and he was so fast that I made great times and thought I might actually have a shot at the championship. Then I decided to try him in steer wrestling. That’s when everything went south.”
“Went south?”
She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “Yeah. Some guys started giving me a hard time. Picked at me all the time, wouldn’t leave me alone. One of them tried to… well, I told you about that. Then one day I went to the stables at an arena and his stall was empty. Just… empty. His halter and lead were there, all his tack, but he was gone. I called the cops, but they told me the chances of ever seeing him again were slim because whoever took him had probably taken him a long way from there so I’d never find him.”
“Did you try posters and?”
“I tried everything. Everything I could think of. I went to vets’ offices, the closest couple of auction houses, local colleges and 4-H clubs, even places I knew wouldn’t help, but I tried anyway. Never saw him again.”
Jensen was silent, thinking about how she must’ve felt. He tried to imagine how he’d feel if Cobra or Snowman disappeared, and he realized it could happen. Oh, yeah, it was harder in the new age of security cameras everywhere, but back when Rainmaker disappeared, there was nothing like that, especially not in a livestock barn. Whoever took her horse had done it purely to get her off the circuit and it hadn’t worked. It was a miracle no one had killed her.
Kill her. Someone might eventually figure out a way to do that and get away with it, and Jensen wasn’t going to let that happen. It hurt to think someone would actually hate her thatmuch, but it was obvious the guys didn’t want her there and were afraid she’d wipe out their standings. They’d gone so far as to steal her horse to try to stop her, and he’d always been taught that a horse thief was one of the worst kinds of people out there. Pulling her even closer instinctively, Jensen kissed the part of her hair. “I can’t imagine how I’d feel if Cobra or Snowman disappeared. I’m sorry somebody did that to you, precious. If I could find him for you, I’d go get him right now.”
He felt her shudder again before she said, “Thanks. I miss him every day. He was a great horse. The worst part? I hope they didn’t mistreat him because he was mine. He never did a thing to deserve that kind of treatment, but people like that… you never know.”
“Shhhh,” he whispered into her hair as he cuddled her. “I’m sure wherever he is, he’s fine. Even if they took him to hurt you, I doubt they’d hurt him.” As he listened to himself, he wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
Her voice surprised him in its childlikeness when she asked, “Jensen? What if I like you more than I should?”
“Then I suppose you should hope that I like you more than I should,” he replied, grinning in the near-darkness.
“Do you?”
