All Jacked Up (Rough Riders 8)

“Pervert.”

“Sticks and stones, cowgirl.”

Argh. “You hate darts.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You hate country bars.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You can’t deny you hate country music, which is all they play at this country bar.”

“True. But watching your fine ass in skintight denim as you’re bending forward to throw a dart?”

Jack’s gaze redefined lewd. “Buttercup, I doubt I’ll hear anything over the pounding in my heart.”

“You mean the blood pounding in your groin,” she shot back.

“That too. You bring out the beast in me.”

How well she’d learned that. Twice.

Keely retreated to the bedroom, flashing back to last night.

The frantic call from India, begging her to drive out to the Sky Blue manufacturing plant and pick up three boxes of lotion she’d forgotten to stock. Poor pregnant India had babbled about an A.A. meeting, Colt helping Trevor and Edgard, and her sweet baby Hudson being a brat. Keely assured her frazzled and highly hormonal sister-in-law she’d take care of it.

Oddly enough, Jack had volunteered to ride along. Odder yet, after loading up the boxes he hadn’t seemed eager to leave. He and Kade shot the breeze, while Keely heard all about Eliza’s preschool. Peyton and Shannie, not to be outdone, talked a mile a minute about the new kitties in the barn.

Once they’d started home, Jack demanded the price for his help: fulfillment of his fantasy of f**king in her truck.

After they’d parked in a secluded turnout, Jack was on her—all possessive, challenging male. He sprawled in the passenger’s side and bid her to masturbate for him. Slowly. As soon as she got off, he hauled her onto his lap. She bounced and ground on his cock; he focused his full oral expertise on her ni**les. Pinching, sucking, licking. Even the biting wound her arousal tighter.

Jack gripped her ass cheeks in both hands, pounding into her cunt forcefully. His orgasm was hot and wet and messy and it sent Keely spiraling into subspace.

As she drifted back, she was vaguely aware of Jack toying with her ass**le. Teasing those blood rich nerve endings with the rough pad of his thumb. Then something slick slid into her anal passage.

“Relax,” he murmured against her throat.

“What the f**k did you just shove up my ass, Donohue?”

“Anal beads. The small set.”

“You have more than one set?”

“I told you I planned on shopping for new sex toys. Does it feel good?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He nibbled her ear. “You’re wearing them until I take them out.”

Excitement unfurled in her belly. But she couldn’t give into him so easily. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

She squirmed in her seat on the drive back to Sundance. Jack ignored it. In fact, he barely looked at her until they were in the apartment.

But when Jack looked at her? Man oh man. Gone was the sophisticated, charming architect. The man who’d loomed over her was primitive male. Wild. Intent on conquering, claiming and marking his territory.

First, he took her mouth in a savage kiss. Next, he had Keely naked, facedown on the bed. Her heart pounded crazily. Not out of fear, but out of feminine pride. She’d never affected a man this powerfully.

Never. And to affect such a strong man as Jack Donohue to the point he lost all control and became a raging beast in his quest to have her? That was a heady, once in a lifetime feeling. And she was damn well going to savor it for as long as she could.

Jack’s body heat scorched her back as he angled her ass in the air. “Do you want your vibrator?”

That was his way of saying she’d have to get herself off because her pleasure wasn’t his concern. This was all about him.

It was f**king hot as hell.

“No.”

Jack growled. Hot, wet, openmouthed kisses trailed down her spine until his mouth met the handle of the beads. Very delicately, he licked around her stretched opening.

Lust slammed into her hard and Keely locked her knees.

He eased the beads out. Then cool gel and one slippery finger pushed in and out of her hole. More gel.

Another finger.

Oh, shit it burned. She held her breath until Jack commanded, “Breathe. Loosen up. Let me in. That’s it.” Then he screwed three fingers in deep and completely out. Satisfied by his preparation, Jack pulled her ass cheeks apart. The crown of his c**k nudged her anus.

Keely breathed out as the thick head popped inside the ring of tight muscle. Before she registered the sharp pain, Jack slid the shaft into her anal passage. No stops. He fed his dick in until his balls slapped her pu**y and he couldn’t go any deeper.

She concentrated on the musky scent of sex and sweat. Would Jack ask if she was okay? Or give her an erotic play by play of how tight and perfect her ass felt clamped around his big dick?

Jack did neither.

He f**ked her without restraint. Withdrawing the plump cockhead completely every time he pulled out. He’d rest the tip on her spasming hole and slam back in. Over and over until she began to anticipate the burning scrape of retraction. Began to crave it. She braced herself for the sweet agony of pleasure mixed with bite of pain as Jack plunged back inside her clenching channel in one solid thrust.

A strange buzzing built inside her head as he reamed her. Proved he owned her.

Jack finally spoke. “Bear down on me. Harder. Sweet mother of God.” He shoved hard, stilled behind her and roared.

She felt every hot spurt as he filled her ass with his seed. She milked every drop, until the continual clenching and unclenching of her interior muscles set off a vaginal orgasm that stole her breath.

His body shuddered as he experienced her contractions. He didn’t attempt to pull out of her bowels.

For the longest time Jack let that big dick stuff her to the point she almost got used to it.

Almost. Then he growled, “Again.”

Yeah, she’d been a little sore this morning. But Keely didn’t regret a single minute.

“Keely?”

Startled out of her vivid flashback, she faced Jack, lounging in the doorway to her bedroom. “What?”

“If you really don’t want me to come to the bar and watch you play darts tonight, I’ll understand. I was just giving you shit.”

The vulnerability Jack showed her on occasion, like now, like last night, still had the power to move her. And because he was willing to share that side of himself with her, she grinned.

“Okay. You can come. But if I hear one caterwaulin’ or goat-yodelin’ comment about the music, you’re sittin’ in the truck.”