Page 27 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
“The still empty offices?” she probed—in a very non-medical way.
“That’s right,” he twanged.
“You are one clever cowboy, Jordan Marks.”
He tipped a pretend hat. “I aim to please, ma’am.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she replied with that damn sexy rasp.
They were cleared for sex by a medical professional, and he’d be ordering her a complete cowgirl ensemble and himself a pair of chaps and a Stetson hat when he got back to his laptop.
He opened the door to the newly renovated office and flicked on the light, revealing a sprawling high-tech room with monitors fixed to the walls and modern furniture.
And toys!
Bobby and Hector’s old office was jam-packed with recreational items sure to spark creativity. And this office took that sentiment to the next level. A ping-pong table sat in the center of a cluster of old Arcade games with a trio of Skee-Ball alleys, a mini putting green, and a trampoline built into the floor.
But they weren’t here to master Ms. Pac-Man or to work on their table tennis serve.
Nope, he’d remembered seeing one very suitable item in the photos Hector had sent, sure to complement their carnal cowboy reenactment.
On the far side of the room, roped off like a main attraction, sat the perfect item for a randy ranch gal.
“Is that what I think it is?” Georgie asked, wide-eyed.
“How are your bull wrangling skills, little lady?”
Seductively, she ran her index finger down the length of his torso. “We’ll have to find out.”
She dropped her purse onto the ground and sauntered over to a giant mechanical bull. He locked the door to the office, then turned to find Georgie sitting atop the headless beast.
She undid a button on her blouse, revealing the hint of her sexy bra. “You know what they say. Save a bull. Ride a cowboy.”
“I think you mean, save a horse, ride a cowboy, little lady,” he countered as his gaze raked over her body.
“I’m not allowed to ride a horse and probably not a bull either. So, that leaves me with one alternative.”
“Good thing there’s an available cowboy in the building,” he replied with a low twang.
He climbed onto the mechanical torso, facing his wife, and guided her body onto his lap. She straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck as he palmed the globes of her ass. This never got old. Everything about Georgie, from her petite frame to the glint in her mischievous eyes, set him ablaze with desire.
With their lives balanced on the precipice of change, they needed to lose themselves in each other—if only for a few minutes, and then they’d worry about what to tell everyone at CityBeat.
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“It’s too bad we can’t turn it on,” she said on a sexy sigh.
“I don’t think we’ll need to,” he answered, rocking his hips.
His wife moaned as his hard length strained through his pants. He set a slow, delicious pace as the friction between them intensified. Georgie parted her lips on another breathy sigh, and he captured her mouth in a slow, sensual kiss.
He wanted her, but the drive to take her hard and fast had morphed into something deeper. Passion burned within him, but his need had taken on a protective edge. Her body didn’t only belong to him anymore. His wife was as sassy, smart, and as tough as they came, but she was also with child.
“We’re getting one of these for the house,” she said, grinding into him.
“It feels okay? Nothing hurts?” he asked. He had to check.
She twisted her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Jordan, two days ago, I rode you like the dirtiest rancher’s daughter in all of Fiji. I don’t think that much has changed with my body in forty-eight hours.”
