Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders 11)

As soon as languorous Ava moved, he snagged a pillow and covered it with a towel. “Up on your knees.” Chase repositioned her, pressing a hand to the middle of her back. “On your elbows, so your chest is over the pillow.”

Ava groaned. “The towel rubs on my nipple.”

“I know.”

“Can I take off the other clothespin now?”

“Not yet.” He kneed her legs apart to create a wider base. Taking himself in hand, he prodded the entrance to her pu**y twice before sliding in halfway.

She automatically arched, trying to force him inside her fully, but Chase covered her body with his. Molding his belly to the soft curve of her ass, pressing the weight of his damp chest against her back, bracketing her arms with his. Boxing her in. Making her wait. She only had movement he allowed.

He pulled out and snapped his hips, plunging in to the root. Every thrust sent her tits swinging and rubbing over that cheap, nubby towel. Every thrust had her crying out. Every thrust brought Chase closer to detonation. He couldn’t hold off. He didn’t want to hold off. When his balls drew up, he hammered into her without pause. Burying his face between her shoulder blades, sucking in her scent with every ragged breath, he came in a hot, fast rush.

Just when Chase thought that burst of pleasure was over, he felt Ava’s contractions start again. Despite his shaky stance, he reached between them and released the clothespin.

Ava bucked as he massaged the tender tip. Her whimper escalated when the blood rushed back to those tissues. He forced her to ride the line between pleasure and pain as her pu**y pulsed around his cock.

Her elbows gave out and she fell forward.

Chase peppered her shoulder with kisses, giving her a second to find her equilibrium. A muffled sob escaped, snapping him from smug satisfaction. Panicked, he flipped her on her back, looming above her to see Ava…crying.

His gut clenched. “Ava? Baby? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head and more tears spilled free.

He tenderly swiped them away. “Then what? Sweet thang, you’re killin’ me here.”

She bit her trembling lip, turning her head toward the wall.

“Look at me.” When she didn’t respond, he repeated, “Look at me,” more sharply.

Those breathtaking eyes connected with his, even as she blinked back tears.

“God. Don’t cry. Talk to me.”

“No one…” She swallowed hard. “No man has ever seen to me like that. Taken time and demanded patience from me. How did you know that’s what I needed and wanted?”

Relieved he hadn’t somehow f**ked this up by acting too domineering, Chase gave her a lingering smooch. “How did I know you needed more nipple stimulation?” His intent to be flip vanished when he realized sharing the truth mattered more than touting his years of sexpertise. “A combination of instinct and curiosity.”

“Really?”

“Can I tell you something?”

Ava ran the back of her knuckles across his cheek. “You can tell me anything, Chase.”

“For all my supposed sexual experience, I’ve always been a taker in bed. No need to work for it when women were vying for a piece of me, vying to please me.”

Although she didn’t say a word, her eyes and her face echoed total understanding.

“But with you…from the start, even us just bein’ friends, I demanded more because I wanted more. Not more to take, but more to give. You bring out something in me, Ava, a side of myself I never knew existed. It’s scary shit. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. And no.” She smiled. “I can’t believe you’d ever be passive in bed. You’re so…inventive. And maybe this sexual aggressiveness feels new, but it’s not new. It’s part of your makeup that’s been dormant.” Her fingertips brushed his whiskers. “I like it. I can’t imagine you being any other way.”

Humbled, Chase kissed her. Kept it light. Breezy. Not the passionate show of possession his head urged him to demonstrate.

Ava broke the kiss with a heartfelt sigh. “So what’s on the agenda today before the rodeo starts?”

He grinned. “I’m definitely thinking I need another ride.”

Chapter Nineteen

“Done. You really needed a trim.” Ava set the clippers on the table.

After she brushed the remnants of his hair off his shirt, Chase’s hands circled her hipbones. Then he tugged her onto his lap. “Put your hands back on my head.”

“Why? Did I hurt you?”

“God no. It feels so damn good when you’re touching me there.”

The deep, raspy timbre of his voice rolled over her. Through her. She placed her palms on his cheeks and slowly slid them up the planes of his chiseled face. Once she reached his hairline, she let her nails scrape over his scalp. Slowly. Thoroughly. Losing herself in touching him at his invitation, without restriction. Loving how the stubbly hair felt beneath her palms and fingertips. Remembering how it felt gently scraping the inside of her thighs. Her belly. Her br**sts.

Chase expelled a groaning sigh and pressed his soft, warm lips to the base of her throat. His mouth wandered south to the upper swell of her cle**age. He dragged his goatee across that tender flesh, adding in a lingering kiss here and there.

Ava’s thighs tightened around his hips. She allowed her head to fall back, stroking his head as she pleased, wishing her hands could wander. But since Chase’s touches never veered out of control, she followed his lead. One of these days she’d step over the line and push him to unleash the wild man he attempted to control. For now, she’d lose herself in his sweet need.

“Ava,” he whispered thickly against her neck, below her ear.

“I know you’re going to warn me we don’t have time for this. But I don’t want to stop.”

“I wasn’t gonna tell you to stop. I was gonna ask you pretty please to go get a condom.”

She laughed and kissed his smirk. “Be right back.”

“Hurry.”

Sweaty and sore, Chase paced in front of the motel room. The pains and twinges in odd places served as a reminder he’d gotten spoiled in the PBR. There was a world of difference in getting on one, two or three bulls over a three-day period, as opposed to PRCA riders, who climbed on one or two bulls each night. Sometimes for several nights running. This time of year shouldn’t be called Cowboy Christmas, but Cowboy Hell.

He mopped his face with the bottom of his tank top and used his key card to open the door. The sight that greeted him? Ava, half-nekkid, her flexible body bent backward over her exercise ball, that mouth-watering pu**y tempting him from between her toned thighs.