Page 43 of Own the Eights Maybe Baby
Slowly, he opened his eyes. “Winner, winner, cowboy dinner!” he exclaimed, unable to stop himself.
Standing in front of him and twirling a baton in a jean skirt barely covering her ass, Georgie wore a checkered shirt tied in the front like a modern-day Daisy Duke in red—that’s right—red cowgirl boots.
A naughty rancher’s daughter!
His gaze raked over her body. “How did I not know you had those boots?”
“This was my costume for the Miss Rootin’ Tootin’ Pageant in Wyoming. My mom wanted to go with a Western theme.”
Under normal circumstances, had his wife uttered the wordsrootin’andtootin’,he would have laughed his ass off. But in that outfit, looking like a cowboy’s super-fantasy, all he could do was drink her in.
“Again,” he said, coming to his feet and gripping the baton mid-twirl. “Where have you been hiding this?”
“I have a box of pageant outfits. I haven’t opened it in years, but I remembered this outfit when we got home. Last time I wore it, I hopped off the pageant stage in the middle of my baton routine and ran all the way to a donut shop. Nobody in Wyoming blinked an eye at a girl dressed like this running down the street. It was a little looser and a little longer back then. I didn’t look like—”
“A ranch hand’s wet dream,” he answered.
“Something like that,” she replied, drawing her index finger between her ample cleavage.
“Who needs a mechanical bull when you’ve got the rancher’s daughter version of Georgiana Jensen-Marks in boots and a jean skirt,” he said and dropped the baton to the floor.
“How about Georgiana Jensen-Marks in boots, a jean skirt, and no panties?”
Jesus, how he loved this woman!
“You look like you’ve had a hard, hard day rounding up the cattle,” she said, falling into character.
Two could play at this.
“It’s a lot of work being a cowboy, but I think I could handle one more ride,” he answered, throwing in some twang.
She pressed her hand to his chest, walked him back to the couch, then guided him to sit.
“You’re not riding anything, cowboy. That’s my job,” she answered, then straddled him and went to work, unbuttoning his fly.
All this sexy cowboy dirty talk had him ready to explode. Georgie gripped his hard length as he palmed her ass then slid his other hand between her thighs, finding her sweet center hot and wet.
“I hope you don’t think I do this with all the ranch hands,” she said, working his cock in slow, delicious strokes.
He matched her pace as he caressed her most sensitive place. She might know how to drive him wild with that sexy outfit and cowgirl dirty talk, but this ranch hand had some tricks up his sleeve.
He dialed up his pace, stroking her tight bundle of nerves with his thumb while teasing her slick entrance with two fingers. “I know you like it like this. When you’re in the barn, and you think no one can see you, I like to watch you touch yourself.”
He could totally get into the role of the randy cowboy peeping Tom.
“Do you like watching me?” she said, then closed her eyes, losing herself to his touch.
“I’d rather be inside of you,” he growled. He was damn close, but he wasn’t about to go over the edge without Miss Rootin’ Tootin’.
She released his hard length, and he lined up his cock, brushing the glistening head of his shaft across her delicate folds. Georgie ran her tongue across her top lip before she arched into him and welcomed his penetration with a breathy moan.
“Georgiana, you’re so wet for me, you dirty cowgirl,” he said against her lips, then captured her mouth in a breathtaking kiss.
As their bodies moved together, their tongues met, licking and caressing in a sensual dance. After today’s life-changing revelations, they needed a release, a respite, a moment to lose themselves in one another.
And while they’d done it on just about every surface of the bungalow, here on the couch with Georgie’s hands pressed to his chest as she rode his cock would always bring him back to their first time. It seemed like eons, not months ago, that they’d given in to their mutual disdain and opted for a little sexual stress relief.
He’d never been more drawn, more furious, more frustrated, or more attracted to another person until his life collided with hers.
