Mr. Unlucky Page 2

  “Look at that come down.” She leaned up to stare out the windshield, totally unafraid.

  “Yeah. I bet it feels good.” Bodie threw it into park before taking his hat off and hopping out into the storm.

  She followed him, the rain driving against her as she danced in the headlights. Her little white tank clung to her body, and he could see she wore a lacy pink bra.

  Her nipples were hard, her belly button ring dangled—she just blew his mind. She even had a sweet little belt buckle riding deep on her low-rider jeans. Looked like high-school rodeo.

  God help him, Bodie thought he might be in love. His feet moved, taking him right over to her, so he could put his hands on her hips. She was laughing as she lifted her face to him, begging for a kiss as her hands wrapped around his shoulders.

  Tilting his head as if he still had his hat on was habit, but pressing his mouth to hers was nothing ordinary or boring. She tasted like beer and lip-gloss, and he pressed into her mouth with his tongue, searching for more.

  Her hot little body pressed against his, fitting like she was made for sin. Please God, let that be true. He pulled her up so her breasts rubbed his chest, his one hand sliding under her butt to feel the round softness of her ass.

  She rocked back into his touch, just as bold as brass and hot as a firecracker. Damn. It was so easy to pull her one leg up around his hip and slip between her thighs, pressing her back against the truck.

  A happy little sound pushed into their kiss as her hips rolled, dragging her all along his cock. Even through the wet layers of cloth, he could feel her, could tell she would be soft and slick and giving. He licked her lower lip, getting her settled but good against the front fender. Addie pushed down against his thigh, rubbing good and hard, going to town on him. She wasn’t a bit shy about taking what she needed, and she was like the storm, wild and addictive. He groaned, his body starting to rock.

  He kept kissing, he couldn’t have stopped for love or money, and she was just begging for more, for one after another. Bodie’s heart slammed against his ribs, his legs felt weak, and he was afraid he was going to come in his pants.

  Thunder clapped, the lightning hitting close enough that he smelled ozone, and she jumped, cuddled in close into him, shivering a little bit.

  Shit. Gritting his teeth against the need riding him, Bodie pulled back and picked her up so he could put her in the cab of the truck. “Come on, honey. It’s gettin’ cold. Let’s head back to the house.”

  “Tell me that we’re going to get to pick up where we left off when we get there.” Her teeth were chattering.

  “Oh, honey.” He cranked up the heat, already mourning the loss of her body against his. “There’s no way I’m giving up a chance at you.”

  “Thank God.” She stripped off her wet shirt, just as unashamed as can be, then snuggled into his side.

  He put an arm around her, grateful as hell he had an automatic. He drove along the ridge on the way out, circling the long way back to the gate.

  The storm raged, and he thanked God for the carport, too, pulling in out of the rain. His little ranch house wasn’t much on the outside, even if it was neat and clean, but he knew right now the inside held all they needed: a hot shower, blankets, a bed and snacks.

  They stumbled in, dripping on the hardwood, the air conditioner making it feel frigid. He’d be grateful for that later. Right now, it left goose bumps on their skin, and he hauled her to the back bathroom, which had the big shower he’d put in a few years back when he started renovations. One day he’d get back on that.

  She stepped out of the filthy canvas shoes, then wiggled out of the soaked jeans. Her panties matched her bra—pink and lacy.

  Bodie reached for the top scrap of fabric, struggling with the space-aged clasp at the front. He got it, though, hooting his triumph, as her breasts spilled out, pale and creamy, dusted with the tiniest sprinkle of freckles. The pink peaks were hard, tight, begging for a touch.

  Bodie hummed, his hands doing what came natural. He slid them up, cupped her, then thumbed her nipples. His skin felt so rough compared to hers. Addie arched, pushed right into his fingers, belly rippling as she did, the little ring in her navel twinkling. She was so damned perfect she made his mouth dry.

  “You too, cowboy. I need to see.”

  He struggled for a moment to understand what she was asking. His hands wouldn’t let go of her sweet skin. Then he realized she wanted him naked, and he was all over that. She helped him with his shirt, his belt, those painted nails sliding over his skin as it was exposed. Her happy little noise when she traced his stomach made him chuckle.

  “You’re built like a brick shit house, cowboy.”

  His chest swelled with pride. That wasn’t the only thing swelling, either. “And you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Bodie touched her everywhere he could reach, from the hollow at the base of her throat to the swell of her breasts, down over her belly to the top of her strawberry curls.

  “Let’s get wet and slick together.” She trailed one finger along his cock, his entire fucking body clenching with it.

  “You’re gonna make it so I can’t walk, honey. If you want a shower, you be good.” He grinned, trying to steady himself.

  “Mmm. Good is absolutely not what you want me to be.”

  “No, ma’am. I sure don’t.” He got them moving, got her into the shower with the water streaming down.

  She pulled that huge mass of hair down, the red curls bouncing all around her, the scent of peaches sudden and strong. He breathed deep, chuckling a little.

  “You’re gonna smell like Old Spice.”

  “I can live with that.” Her laughter bounced like the water on the tile. “If we do this right, we’re going to smell like sex.”

  That was the kind of thinking he liked. A lot. Made him smile. He kissed her again, just for good measure, his hands sliding down her back. Her tiny, curvy little butt fit in his hands like magic, and her sweet lips opened right up to him.

  If he thought too hard about all this, he might just freak out, unlucky as he was with women. So he didn’t think. He went with it.

  She pressed up against him, going up on tiptoe to rock against him, honey sweet. Her breasts slid over him, and his cock pushed against her belly, the soft skin making him gasp. He walked her into the water, the spray turning her red curls dark and heavy. She laughed out loud, steadying herself with a hand on his chest. Her other hand slid lower. A lot lower.

  Oh, damn. Damn. She cupped his balls, weighed them in her hand and rolled a little. When she lifted them, pressing them up against the base of his cock and pushing everything in a slow circle, he damned near lost it, going up on tiptoes to hold it all in.

  “Mmm. You like that.”

  Was there a fucking man on Earth that didn’t? “I do. I’d be crazy not to.”

  Little minx just laughed her fine ass off, fingernails teasing the tip of his cock.

  Two could play that game. He pushed a hand between her legs, cupping her mound, stroking gently.

  “Oh.” Damn. Damn, was there a better sound on Earth than a woman wanting? It was so frickin’ hot. He wanted more of those noises, so he slid a finger inside her. She rocked, wet and slippery, and not from the shower. Damn, but that was fine. He wanted inside her, but he had no rubbers in there.

  “Mmm. Like how your hands feel, cowboy.” She arched some, lips open, parted.

  “I like how your everything feels.” She still held his important bits, and he thought they were warmed up enough. Bedtime.

  “Good. I’m I clean enough for you?”

  “Hell, yes.” He turned off the water and reached out into the bathroom for a fuzzy towel.

  She wrung the water out of her thick, heavy hair, the mass slapping down on her arm.

  “You got the prettiest hair, honey.” Bodie helped her dry it out a little.

  “It’s a pain, but I’d cry if I had to cut it.”

  She had a little barbed wire infinity symbol
inked with the left loop circling her bellybutton, the sparkly bellybutton ring dangling. He grinned, tugging at it, not hard or anything.

  “You playing with my jewels, now?” She shimmied, hips shaking for him.

  “You played with mine.” His eyes crossed, his tongue trying to hang out.

  “Uh-huh. Gonna do it again, too.” She quirked her finger at him, tempting him out.

  He followed like the happy fool he was, then it was his turn to lead her. Into the bedroom. His hands wanted to touch everything—boobs, butt, the curve of her shoulder, the inside of her thigh. So he did touch her, his lips sliding on her skin, his fingers drawing patterns.

  They made it to his bed, and she climbed up onto the mattress. She knelt there looking like something out of a Trace Adkins video, but with less plastic surgery. Addie was stunning. He stepped up, hands in her hair, to tilt her face up for a kiss. He took it deep, making his intent clear. Bodie was through playing. Foreplay was about done.

  She cried out, the sound pushing into the kiss, her tongue sliding against his, sweet as sugar. Addie was all curves, all soft, giving woman. Bodie wanted more. Her breasts rubbed his chest, her nipples hard as rocks.

  “Need you, honey. So bad.” He bent to kiss first one, then the other.

  “Good thing for you I’m not a cock tease.” She pushed up into his lips, fingers wrapping around his aching flesh.

  “No. No, you’re a woman who knows what she wants.” He could tell that already. He fucking liked it.

  “I am.” She tugged his prick, hard enough his balls drew up into a tight package. “And I want you.”

  “I just need a rubber, honey.” Like he could move right now.

  “Uh-huh. Where?”

  He rolled his eyes toward the nightstand on the right side of the bed. That drawer stuck like crazy. The set had been his grandpa’s.

  “‘Kay.” She leaned over, offering him a look at that amazing ass as she tugged. The way she wiggled and jiggled set off all his bells and whistles. He felt like the cartoon wolf in the Red Riding Hood gig.

  She turned, looked over her shoulder, eyebrow arching. “Is there a trick to this?”

  “It sticks.” He could move now, so Bodie helped out, leaning against her, rubbing up on her while he yanked the drawer open.

  They laughed together for a minute, and Bodie sort of couldn’t get it, how she was so damned easy in her skin. It didn’t matter if he got it, though. He would just wallow in it. He rolled her over when she waved the box of condoms, putting her on her back on the bed.

  She bounced a little, the little packets going everywhere, making her chuckle.

  “Good thing we just need one. For now.” Bodie didn’t want to rule out a second go.

  “Mmm. I love a man with promise.”

  “Good.” He got one of the rubbers out, got it smoothed on his cock. He didn’t have to ask if she was ready. He did reach for her, though, taking her lips as his fingers pushed inside her, teasing her slick walls. He stretched her as gently as he could, but he was like a freight train that wasn’t going to be able to slow down.

  “Cowboy. Bodie. Stop teasing and fuck me.”

  He thought he might be in love. This was dangerous. He pulled his fingers free and settled between her legs, his cock sliding into her like he was meant to be inside.

  She felt like heaven, wrapping around him, her sweet pussy pulling his cock right in. She made this noise, soft and feminine, almost surprised, and he pulled back just so he could push in and hear it again.

  “Bodie.” Her hands wrapped around his shoulders, one leg wrapped around his waist.

  “Uh-huh. Oh, honey. So hot.” She was giving, tight, perfect for him.

  She nodded, rocked up onto him, moaning deep in her chest as she did.

  Just in case this never happened again, Bodie tried to memorize everything, from the way she smelled to the way her hair curled as it dried. His old bedsprings were just singing, squealing up underneath them. The rhythm was good, easy to keep up, even though he was losing his breath.

  Pushing up, she mashed their lips together, her mouth soft, warm, hungry. The kiss went on and on, their tongues mirroring the movements of their hips. Bodie could feel her body tighten, her wet pussy holding him as her hips sped, driving them together. He was so close his teeth hurt, but he wanted her there with him, wanted to feel her come, feel the wildness she burned with, just under the surface.

  “Soon. Don’t stop, cowboy.”

  That wasn’t going to happen. No fucking way.

  “Soon,” he agreed, the word strangled as all hell, and he pried one hand up out of the sheets, trying to push it between them. He could help her along.

  Her wet curls tried to stymie him, but he persevered, fingertips stroking her clit, making her gasp and twist under him. She was so slick, so ready, and Bodie knew it wouldn’t take much. He pressed and circled, encouraging.

  “Bodie!” She gasped and that was it, her entire body flushing with her orgasm.

  “Oh. Honey.” He watched as long as he could, but it was only seconds before he tipped over the edge, too, his balls pulling up so tight his belly ached.

  He moaned, muscles shaking as he held himself up. Her pretty blue eyes twinkled up at him, just awake and happy.

  “Damn, cowboy. That rocked my world.” She clenched around him. “Tell me we get to do it again.”

  Bodie choked out a laugh. “I sure hope so. I might just die happy, though.”

  “It’s better than kicking off miserable, man.”

  “You know it.” He kissed her, his belly rumbling with a whole different kind of hunger.

  “Mmm. Somebody’s hungry.”

  “I am.” He could try to be embarrassed, but what better to work up an appetite than sex. “You munchy?”

  “God, yes. Feed me, cowboy!”

  He hugged her, just feeling like he needed to let her know how damned happy she made him, just like that. “Come on, then, honey. I got beer and bacon and frozen waffles.”

  “Sounds perfect.” She stood up, stretched. “You have a long shirt I can borrow?”

  “T-shirt or button down?” He knew what his choice would be.

  She grinned, the look all naughty woman. “Button down.”

  Woo hoo. One of his soft old t-shirts would be great for nipplage, but the button down was always the countryman’s choice. He pulled one out of the closet and tossed it to her after he dealt with the condom.

  She snuggled right into his shirt, and the sight was enough to make him hum. He reached out, tugging a curl of her hair. “Food.”

  “No, cowboy. I’m a girl. Food lives in the kitchen.”

  “Cave cowboy confused.” He screwed up his face, pulling a big silly frown. Then he headed to the kitchen.

  Her fingers squeezed his butt as he passed by, making him stand up on his tiptoes. She wasn’t shy at all. He grinned. Lord.

  “Sorry, it was right there.”

  “Don’t apologize.” He wasn’t sorry at all.

  She leaned against his kitchen counter, all sex kitten, looking for all the world like Ann-Margret. He’d gotten teased for liking that lady in high school, but hey, she’d been Catwoman. What was not to like?

  Addie gave him a quizzical look. “What are you thinking?”

  “How you look like Catwoman.”

  “Meow?” She did that playful claw-finger wiggling thing.

  “Yes! All you need is a pleather cat suit and ears.” Oh. Bad boy, thinking that while naked and putting waffles in the toaster.

  “And the little mask, don’t forget that. It’s important.”

  “Mmm hmm.” He was just gonna explode. “It’s breakfast food, but late night supper. You want beer, milk, juice or tea?”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t think beer goes with waffles, cowboy.”

  “No? It goes with bacon. I could make bacon. If I put on pants.”

  “I don’t need bacon.” Her hands wrapped around his hips. “Pants are overrated.
”

  His blood rushed south, and he thought maybe they just ought to eat syrup and butter. Off each other.

  She was amazing, purely sexual, and she made him ache. Even as his stomach growled again. Traitor. He grinned. “So, milk or juice, traditional woman?”

  “Mmm. Juice, please. I like it tart.”

  “You bet.” He liked her. She was not a tart, but she was pithy. He chuckled.

  They settled at his table, her feet in his lap as she tore pieces of her waffle off with her fingers. She dipped it in syrup, licking the drips off before she munched. She was so sensual, so wonderfully unself-conscious.

  “So how long you been in town, honey?”

  She grinned. “I moved back about six months ago. I’d been traveling for work and my dads offered to let me stay with them for a couple of months before I decided what to do next. I’ve been kinda hiding out, though. Taking pictures and stuff.”

  “Your dads?” Oh, now, he had a feeling he knew exactly who she was talking about. “Brandt and Chris?”

  Addie nodded. “Yeah. Maddie’s my twin sister.”

  No way.

  No way.

  Everybody knew Maddie Grainger. She was a big-time barrel racer—big and blonde, stacked to the ceiling, and about as tough as they came. No way this tiny slip of a sex kitten was her twin.

  He shook his head. “That’s hard to believe, honey.”

  “We’re twins, not identical. Two dads, two turkey basters, one surrogate.” She laughed like it was the most reasonable answer ever.

  Maybe it was, to her. Family could be a strange thing. He had three brothers and a sister, all younger, and not one of them looked a bit like him. He took after his momma. They all took after dad.

  Of course, now that he looked, he could see where she took after her tiny bull riding daddy. Chris had been a wildfire, burning up the circuit, once upon a time. She had the same kind of build, almost birdlike, looking so delicate, but with a core of steel. And if she’d been hiding out, it explained why he’d not seen her around town.

  He reached down, put one hand on her ankle, circling it, and she hummed. “You’re warm.”

  “Are you chilly?” He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.

  “I am fabulous.”