All Jacked Up (Rough Riders 8)

Jack didn’t barrel up and pull Keely off the dance floor. He watched from the shadows, planning to ambush her. If she fought, he’d drag her out of the damn bar by her hair.

When had he started giving into his caveman mentality?

The fast song ended. Some crap with too much slide steel guitar and a mournful fiddle started. His ears threatened to bleed. He hated country music. But he wouldn’t stand by and let another man hold his woman.

Jack stalked to the dance floor. The guy with his hands on Keely leapt back.

“Keely and I are just friends. We were just dancin’.”

Keely whirled around. “Jack? What are you doin’ here?”

“Surprised to see me, buttercup?” He gave Michael a feral smile. “Get lost.”

The guy left skid marks he dashed off so fast.

“Oh. My. God. You did not just—”

Jack grabbed her, plastering their bodies together. He put his mouth on her ear. “I warned you. The only man allowed to touch you is me. That includes dancing. So make nice or I will make the rest of your night a living hell.”

“You don’t scare me.”

He chuckled. “Oh, cowgirl, that was the wrong thing to say.” He spun them and in the process slipped his thigh between her legs. Every time he moved, he ground the hard muscle into her pu**y.

She hissed, “Stop it.”

“Why? You aren’t scared of me, remember? You aren’t scared if I keep this up I’ll make you come right out here on the dance floor?”

“Don’t.”

“You want it. Your body is quivering.” Jack nuzzled her cheek. “I feel your ni**les poking into my chest. You’re excited. If I wiggled my hand into your jeans right now, would I find you wet?”

“Why are you doin’ this?” she demanded.

“Because I can. And you’ll be goddamn lucky if making you come out here is all I do to you tonight.”

In a fit of pique, Keely attempted to turn her head away.

Jack was having none of it. He forced her chin up and sealed his mouth to hers. She reacted as he expected: she fought him for five seconds and kissed him back with equal abandon.

Throughout the kiss and the slow dance he kept grinding his thigh into her clit. Rubbing back and forth the way that set her off. Her sex was fire hot riding his leg. His heart pounded as hard as hers.

Keely clenched her shaking thighs around his, a signal she was close to exploding.

He slid his leg away, allowing his lips to cling to hers for several heartbeats before he broke his mouth free.

“Jack. Please.”

“I will let you come on one condition.”

“What?”

“You will follow me as soon as this song is finished. No questions asked. No saying goodbye to your friends. Just you and me, Keely, settling this my way, however I see fit.”

“Yes.”

“Right answer.” Jack shoved his thigh back to where she most needed it. “Close your eyes. Feel the friction of the fabric on your clit. Is your pu**y hot and throbbing? Wishing my c**k was riding you instead of you riding my leg? Do you know how hard my dick is right now? You do that to me. Make me so f**king hard I can’t see straight.” Jack’s mouth returned to her ear. “Come on me. I want you so wet and hot that you soak through your jeans and leave a wet spot on mine.”

She started to come and he swallowed her cry in another hungry kiss.

As Jack felt the pulsing and tightening of her cunt around his thigh, he clenched his quad harder, increasing the pressure. He stroked her hair. To anyone watching, they appeared to be a couple lost in a sweet moment.

Keely finally unlocked his leg, dropping her forehead to his chest as she tried to level her breathing.

The song ended. Jack led her off the dance floor, past the bar and down a deserted hallway. He checked both ways and dragged her into the men’s room. Better bet than the always-busy ladies room.

Inside, he flipped the lock.

Panic flitted through Keely’s eyes. “Jack—”

“Not a word.” He faced her body toward the door. In no time he unhooked her rhinestone belt and unzipped her jeans. Flattening his palm on her abdomen, he followed her damp mound until his fingers met creamy wetness. Fuck she was hot. He jerked her jeans out of his way. “Hands above your head.”

Jack loosened his pants and yanked his boxers to his knees. Pressing his left hand over her pu**y, he angled her pelvis and aligned his cock. Her warm, wet heat beckoned him. He flexed his hips and impaled her.

“Oh God.”

“Fast and dirty, cowgirl.” Jack plunged in and out, gritting his teeth against coming immediately. The incessant pleasure of f**king her was almost too much. “I wanted to ream your sassy little ass. But I’ll save that for when I have you bound, at my mercy.”

She whimpered.

Jack hammered into her without pause. Sweat dripping into his eyes. Snaking down his spine. His primal side urged him to use his teeth to mark her. On her shoulder. Her neck. So when she saw the symbol of his passion she’d remember who had the right to touch her. To pleasure her. He rotated his hand and stroked her clit with his middle finger.

“Yes. Don’t stop. Faster.”

She was so wet keeping hold of that slippery nubbin proved difficult. He curled his fingers and pinched her clit with his knuckles. Squeezing as his c**k rammed into her.

Blessed release teased him. His muscles tightened from the base of his neck clear down between his legs, yanking his testicles up. He shot like a rocket. “Jesus, f**king Christ.”

Keely’s pu**y convulsed around his cock, every rhythmic pull brought him deeper into her slick feminine heat. He couldn’t stop pumping his pelvis because her climax triggered a second one for him.

Holy f**k. That’d never happened before. He let his head fall back as he rode out another set of hot pulses.

His mind blanked. Finally the drip drip drip of the faucet and the tick tick tick of the heater roused him, the sounds mingled with their broken breaths.

Jack eased out and Keely’s legs buckled. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her upright.

“I’ve got you.” He stroked her hair, soothing her. Petting her until she found her equilibrium. “You okay to get dressed now?”

“Um. Yeah.”

As Jack righted his own clothes, he considered apologizing to her for his obsession with needing to nail her, right f**king now, in a bathroom of a honky-tonk. But Keely didn’t appear to have any regrets.

God knew he didn’t. He kissed the back of her head and whispered, “You need help?”