I’m only startled for a few seconds, though. My pulse speeds up for an entirely different reason when I recognize the figure straddling the machine.
It’s Rusty. And he’s watching me.
My feet move me slowly across the room toward him. My heart thumps wildly against my ribs. My mouth goes completely dry as I take him in.
The wide brim of his cowboy hat casts a shadow over his face. But even so, I can feel Rusty’s glittering blue eyes fixed on me. The light pouring down on his shoulders accentuates every ripple of muscle in his arms and bathes his perfectly defined abs in a soft, golden glow. His big hands are resting on his thighs, motionless. Chills spread down my arms when I look at those long fingers, remembering all too clearly the pleasure they can bring.
I take a deep breath. “Bar’s closed, mister,” I say casually as I approach him.
He doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, I feel a hot flush move through my core.
“Thought I’d grab a slow ride before you locked up. I missed my chance earlier.”
My stomach twitches at his insinuation. He’s asking me. Outright. And he’s perfectly still as he waits for my reply.
Adjusting my trajectory, I veer to the right and walk to the podium that houses the bull controls. I look down at the console I watched the little old man working earlier. I glance back at Rusty, knowing that if I turn it on, I’m giving him my answer.
My pause is barely that of a heartbeat before I reach up and flip the red switch up to the ON position. To hell with resisting him! I’m not the one getting married.
“How slow do you want it?” I ask provocatively, the sultry music from the radio only adding to the intensity of the moment.
“As slow as you can make it,” he replies, a wicked grin twisting his lips.
I ease the lever up the tiniest bit, just enough that I can barely hear the whir of the machine’s motor turning. With a groan, the bull moves slightly forward and down, making a leisurely turn on its post. Rusty doesn’t move but for the motion of his hips as he rides fluidly on the swiveling bull. When it revolves completely, leaving him facing me again, I see the almost imperceptible tip of his head. “You coming?”
I don’t answer him. I don’t need to. I step out from behind the console and I walk toward Rusty, an answer in and of itself. Anticipation pours through me when I step up onto the thick, black mat and stop at the base of the slow-moving machine.
Without a word, Rusty holds out his hands. Without a word, I take them.
Effortlessly, he pulls me up onto the bull with him, my back pressed to his chest, his hard body folding in around me. “Put your hands here,” he whispers in my ear as he leans forward to show me.
I do as he asks, excitement curling in my stomach. I feel Rusty drag my hair away from my neck just before his lips touch my skin. My ni**les pucker reflexively.
“Do you know how much I wanted to be up here with you tonight?” He pushes his hips against my butt. I can feel how hard he is, just as hard as I knew he would be. “Watching you arch your back,” he says, trailing his fingers down my spine, causing me to bow outward. His hand rises back up to the band of my bra, his fingers easily unsnapping it. Slowly, he runs his palms up to my neck and then down over my shoulders, not stopping until he brushes my fingertips, pushing off my top. “I kept imagining how hard your ni**les would be if I were touching them while you rode this bull.”
He cups both br**sts in his hands and squeezes. My breath hitches in my throat and heat puddles between my legs.
“I know you were wishing I was up here with you, too. I could see it in every sway of your hips,” he murmurs against my neck, the fingers of one hand tracing circles around my nipple as his other travels down the center of my stomach. “And I know that if I could’ve touched you right then, I’d have found these wet,” he whispers, dipping his hand down into my panties and cupping my burning flesh. “Mmmm, just like this.”
The lights swirl around me, framed by the pitch black of the empty bar. I close my eyes, abandoning myself to the moment, to the feel of what Rusty’s doing to me as he slips one finger inside me.
I moan and let my head fall back against his shoulder. He rolls my nipple between finger and thumb as he thrusts the fingers of his other hand in and out of me. Long, deep movements, like the rhythm of the bull.
“I knew you’d be dripping. Watching me watch you. Wishing you were riding my c**k up here on this bull. Fantasizing about coming for me. In front of all those people. I know you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Lazily, he drags his fingers out of me to tease my clit with leisurely swirls. I move my hips against him, breathless as the familiar tension builds inside me.
I feel Rusty lean away from me before he puts his hands around my waist and lifts, turning me around on the bull to sit facing him, but not straddling him.
The look on his face is ravenous as he takes off my hat and flings it into the darkness. “Do you think there’s anyone outside right now, Jenna? Out there in the dark? Watching us through the windows?”
His lips crash down on mine before I have time to answer. His tongue licks along mine as his hands roam over my br**sts and my stomach, my back and my hips. He’s touching me everywhere except the place I need him to touch me most.
When he tears his lips away from mine, he puts his palm between my br**sts and pushes gently, urging me to lie back. I relax over the head of the bull, letting the slow, easy movements of the machine set the pace for what’s to come.
Rusty drags his hand down my stomach, not stopping until he reaches the juncture of my widely spread thighs. I feel him move my panties to one side. There’s a pause that lasts a lifetime. It’s filled with heat and electricity and wild anticipation. And then I feel the hot lick of his tongue. I buck at first, like the imitation bull beneath me might. But then I relax under his mouth, easing my legs back down over the sides of the machine, opening them wider and giving Rusty full access to my body. The blood is rushing to my head, making it swim lightly and I feel the tightening of my muscles as Rusty pushes two fingers inside me. In and out, he moves them as his tongue flickers over my sensitive flesh.
“I wonder if someone’s watching me lick you, watching my tongue when I do this,” he says, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. He works it into me, penetrating me as deeply as he can, his lips pressing against my most sensitive part as he does. When he moves back up to flick the tiny muscle, sucking it briefly into his mouth, I lose my breath completely.