Page 51 of Austin
“Don’t be disappointed if you never get the answer, because some things can’t be put into words.”
She bit her lip, as if fighting a smile. “I’m aware.”
He slid his hand over her gorgeous ass, pulling her that much closer as his dick started to swell. “Are you?”
A nip on his lip answered his question. Communication without words. His favorite kind. He rolled her over, found her lips and lost himself in a slow exploration of her mouth as his fingers zeroed in on her warm, wet center.
She pressed against his hand as his finger slipped inside of her, and all thoughts of explaining his love of bull riding evaporated from his brain.
*
Kristen could sumup the focus of her life in her Salt Lake City hotel room in three simple words: sex with Austin.
And if she wanted to expand her summary to four words, it would be: more sex with Austin.
She was pleasantly tired and a little sore and beyond satisfied with her breaking free adventure—but now that she was seated in the VIP section of the American Extreme Bull Riders venue, waiting for smoke and fire to announce the beginning of the performance, reality was starting to filter its way into her insular break-free world. She was going home tomorrow. Back to real life and all its complications.
Living a freeform life, drifting, sounded like fun, but it wasn’t realistic to someone like her who didn’t have a lot of money in the bank. Who didn’t ride bulls for a living.
Austin wouldn’t be able to ride bulls forever.
And he didn’t know what he wanted to do when his career was over. Kristen smiled a little. That should bother her more than it did, because he was not being sensible, but Austin seemed to have a way of landing on his feet. And he was as driven as she was. He’d figure something out.
The house lights dimmed and the music started, pounding out a primitive beat, energizing the audience as the bull riders strode through the smoke and took their places along the flaming line. Austin was facing away from her, feet spread, hands on his buckle in a classic bull rider stance. She now recognized names from the party where she’d met the other riders—Casey, Cody, Gage. When Austin’s name was called, she felt a well of pride and possessiveness. Her bull rider.
The music hit a crescendo as the bull riders started back toward the chutes. Austin looked her way as he followed T.J. Casey out of the arena, and even though she was certain he couldn’t actually see her, he touched the brim of his hat before disappearing through the gate next to the chutes.
She came close to lifting her hand in response. And it was suddenly kind of scary to feel this connected to a guy whom, logic told her, could only be a fleeting part of her life.
The price of breaking free, having her adventure.
She could deal with the situation—it just might not be as easy as she’d first assumed.
*
There was nothingbetter than being on top of the game, and that was exactly how Austin felt as he straddled the rails over Prime Time. He set a foot on the bull’s back, letting him know that the routine had begun. Prime Time barely acknowledged him as he then settled in place near the flank strap and started working the rope.
Two wins in a row. That was the goal. Prime Time was an unpredictable bucker, changing up his modus operandi each time he came out of the chute, but Austin was okay with that. He had a talent for reading subtle cues, noting the tells.
He did a quick prep, wanting to get on with the ride. Once the tail of the rope was folded into place, he tucked his chin, patted the rail and nodded. The next thing he knew he and three-quarter tons of bull were high in the air just outside of the chute.
Prime Time’s front legs pounded back down to earth. Seven seconds left.
The subtle roll of muscle under his left thigh and the spin began, into his hand.
Six…Five…Four…
His chest jerked and his shoulders snapped back as the spin abruptly ended and Prime Time changed directions with a twisting ass over ears maneuver that caught him off guard, pulled him away from his hand.
Shit.
Muscles burning, he pushed deep into his feet, fought like hell to keep from going down, but gravity had a mad hold on him.
Three…Two…
He struggled, teeth gritted, sheer determination keeping him in contact with the bull as about a thousand G’s pulled on his wrist—
The horn blew as he felt the air between his ass and the bull.
