Long Hard Ride (Rough Riders 1)

Trevor spread her cheeks wide and rammed into her cunt in one rapid stroke. “Christ, woman,” he growled, “you’re wet. You must really like sucking cock.”

A feminine grunt. “Stop talking and f**k me harder. I’m close to coming.”

“Bossy. I don’t know if I like that.”

“Punish me then. God. Do anything. Just make me come.”

“Maybe this’ll help you along.” Trevor whacked her ass. Four sharp blows on each deeply tanned cheek.

The woman started to climax. Loudly. Shrieking like a wheezing donkey. Thrashing like she was having a seizure.

Colby wondered how much of her reaction was real. Talk about cynical.

Spurred on by her enthusiasm, Trevor f**ked her with such ferocity the bathmat skidded sideways across the floor.

Colby watched the scene before him dispassionately. He should be raring to join in. He wasn’t. In fact, his c**k had already gone completely limp.

A sad situation at thirty-one; he was sick of trolling for pu**y. Same old, same old. A quick f**k and suck, goodbye, then on to the next town.

He was getting old if he’d been fantasizing about f**king the same woman a different way every night, rather than a different woman the same way every night.

Yeah, that one woman superstar in his lurid fantasies was none other than Channing Kinkaid. A temptress with her gold-flecked hazel eyes. A nymph with a riot of brown curls tumbling between her shoulder blades.

A witch’s mouth, lush, ripe, the soft pink of peonies in spring. A curvy little body a man could sink his teeth and his c**k into for weeks without surfacing.

Where the hell had that romantic nonsense come from?

Channing wasn’t his. Although, he had been tempted to spill the beans about Jared’s marital status tonight. But he’d decided it wasn’t his place. She’d probably shoot the messenger rather than react how he’d hoped—running to him for protection, comfort and wickedly hot sex.

Right. Ignoring the thrashing twosome, he hopped off the counter and left them alone for the big finish.

In the cramped motel room, Edgard was stretched out on the double bed along the wall. He glanced up from watching the PBR Tour on VERSUS. “Done already?”

“Yeah. You getting in on some action?”

“Maybe later.”

After Colby dressed he sat down on the opposite bed to pull on his boots.

“Where you going?” Edgard asked.

“I know it’s your turn, but I think I’ll sleep in the horse trailer.

‘Night.”

The next morning Channing leaned on the whitewashed split-rail fence and squinted at the fairgrounds.

What was she supposed to do now? Stuck high and dry in nowhere Oklahoma.

A few trucks and horse trailers remained in the parking lot. The arena was deserted. Most rodeo folk had already headed to the next event. Her stomach growled. She glanced at her watch. Noon.

The “Open” sign blinked at the Last Chance Saloon. She shouldered her macramé purse and trotted across the highway. Maybe they served food. Anything would be better than the vending machine selection of stale crackers and peanuts, or drowning her sorrows in chocolate.

Colby had finished loading hay for his horse when he heard voices approaching across the paddock. He snapped the locks on the trailer and leaned back against the metal gate bars to wait to see who was looking for him.

Cash and Trevor came around the rear end of the trailer, bickering like siblings.

“It ain’t my problem,” Cash said. “I’m just glad to see that sumbitch gone.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t gonna be happy she is. She—”

“Who’s gone?” Colby asked.

They both stopped. Trevor gave Cash an uneasy look. “Jared Connelly. He dropped out this morning.”

“Why?”

“Seems his wife got wind of his female traveling partner and demanded he return to Australia.”

“Serves that bastard right. Where’s Channing now?”

Another nervous glance passed between Trevor and Cash.

Colby’s stomach muscles tightened. “I said: Where’s Channing?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know.”

He counted to ten. “Did she leave with him?”

Cash snorted. “Not after she smacked him upside the head with her trophy last night when she found out about his missus.”

Colby fought a smile. He would’ve loved to’ve seen that. “Where’d she stay last night?”

“The Silver Spur.”

Damn. She could’ve been in the room right next to him, listening to some strange chick suck him off. For the first time in a long time, his actions made him ashamed. “What room?”

“One eleven.”

“Did you check on her this morning?”

Trevor nodded. “Cash knocked. She didn’t answer. So he came and got me and I tried. She wouldn’t come to the door for me either. I don’t think she’s here. The maid wouldn’t let us in.”

“Did you ask the front desk if she’d checked out?”

Cash and Trevor exchanged a sheepish look.

Idiots.

Colby pushed away from the trailer and headed toward the motel office.

“Hey, Colby. Where you goin’?”

He didn’t answer. He just kept walking. And tried like hell not to run.

Channing nursed a Bud Light in a corner booth. She picked at her second bowl of pretzels and listened to the jukebox wailing another sad song about love gone wrong. In her life even lust had gone wrong.

The cowbell on the front door clanked against the wood as the door opened again, then slammed shut. This was a busy place. Maybe if all else failed she could get hired to sling beer. Her focus strayed to the list of options she’d jotted in her journal, none of which appealed to her.

The bench seat across from her creaked. Thinking Moose had swung by to flirt, she smiled and looked up.

But Colby McKay grinned back at her. “Thought I might find you here, darlin’.”

Channing suppressed a feminine sigh. His dimples ought to be illegal. “I figured you’d already taken off.”

“I could say the same. I heard what happened last night.”

She reached for her pencil. “I’m sure everyone has heard by now.”

Her gaze narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me Jared was married?”

“Because you’d be pissed off at me thinkin’ I had some ulterior motive in tellin’ you the truth.” He spun her notebook around and studied it.