Rough Riders 01 - Long Hard Ride Page 5
The woman in the truck—Gemma Jansen—was a rough stock contractor from outside of Sheridan. Her husband had died a few years back and instead of selling off the livestock business, she’d taken over and was trying her hand at becoming a rough stock contractor for the Mountain and Plains Rodeo circuit.
Gemma was a true Westerner, a fourth generation Wyomingite, tough, gruff and knowledgeable about everything from land to horse bloodlines. Beneath her salt-of-the-earth persona, sometimes it was easy 42
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to forget she wasn’t an old grizzled woman. Somewhere in her forties, she was still a damn attractive woman. It was weird seeing her without her husband Steve. They’d been married forever. For the first time, Colby wondered if she got as lonely on the road as the rest of them did.
Gemma leaned over and rolled down the dirt-covered passenger window. “Where you boys headed?”
Edgard tipped back his hat and rested his forearm on the oversized mirror. “Limon. How about you?”
“Back home first. There’s a shortage of bucking horse stock in Cody so I’ve gotta get my foreman up there, see if they’re willing to look at any of ours.”
“They’d be damn foolish not to.”
“That’s what I said. My foreman ain’t so sure. And I ain’t so sure his reluctance ain’t borne out of laziness. So I gotta make sure he ain’t letting my business go to hell while I’m out workin’ this summer. He’s the third foreman I’ve been through in the last eighteen months.”
Colby said, “Too bad you can’t take Cash with you. He’d convince them guys in Cody to give you a shot. That man could sell wind in Wyoming.”
“Like we need more of that.” She scowled. “Shoot. One of them crazy tourist traps would kidnap that blowhard Indian, color his face with war paint, put him in buckskin and a feather headdress, trying to pass him off as ‘heap big chief’. Cash would surely like that.”
“Now, Gemma, that ain’t fair. I know you and Cash have your differences, but you cain’t argue that he don’t know his stock.”
A sly smile lit up her face. “My stock sure as shootin’ tossed old Cash on his bony ass last night, didn’t it?”
Colby laughed.
The driver’s side door on Trevor’s truck opened and Trevor hopped out. “Hey, my beautiful Gem-stone. How’s tricks?”
She snorted. “You’re as smooth as a baby’s ass, ain’t ya, Trev?”
“I try.”
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“Wasted breath on me. I ain’t nearly as tricky as I used to be in my younger years. But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you I had my fair share of lovesick cowboys trailing behind me.”
Gemma focused on Colby. “What’d you think of that four-year-old bull, Big Time, last night? You looked damn good on him. Too good.
Makes me wonder if I oughta pull him out of rough stock rotation for a while.”
“He’s gotta good spin. He got all four legs off the ground right out of the chute so you’re wrong if you think he’s a gimme. He weren’t easy at all. Shoot, it’s not like I scored a ninety on him, Gem. A couple of the guys said they’d like a chance to test him out. Where’s the next place you’re bringin’ him?”
“Valentine, probably.” Gemma’s shrewd gaze finally landed on Channing. “Since these boys forgot their manners, I’ll just go ahead and introduce myself. Gemma Jansen.”
Channing thrust her hand through the open window and clasped Gemma’s. “Channing Kinkaid.”
“Who’re you here with?”
Colby said, “She’s with me now.”
“Before I was traveling with Jared. It ended when I found out about Jared’s marital status last night.”
A single blonde eyebrow lifted. “You didn’t know?”
“No, ma’am.” She dropped her head, clearly embarrassed.
In a show of support, Colby squeezed the hand he’d placed on Channing’s hip.
Gemma gave her an approving look. “Good to hear. Lots of the girls hitching a ride on the wild side don’t give a rip about the sanctity of marriage. So if you need a break from the rodeo-injury war stories and the testosterone, come find me. We’ll drink whiskey and tell these boys we’re doin’ each other’s hair.”
Channing grinned. “Will do. Thanks.”
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Gemma inclined her head and her straw cowboy hat shaded her face.
“Nice day to travel. Behave, boys. Good luck in Limon. See you in Nebraska in a few.”
“Drive safe, senhora.” Edgard thumped the side door and Gemma took off.
Trevor and Edgard conversed in low tones, then Edgard popped the hood of the truck and they fiddled with the engine. Colby opened the rear cab door and gestured for Channing to hop in.
She lifted her satchel over her head, propping it in her lap as she scooted across the leather bench seat. “So what’s the plan?”
“Trev’s gonna drive until he gets tired and then Edgard will take over.”
“What about us?”
Colby kicked aside an empty carton of chocolate milk. “We’ll be on tap for next time when we hit the road for Valentine. Today’s one of our rare off days so enjoy it while it lasts. Usually, we’re rippin’ out of the arena the second we get the payouts and headin’ to the next event.”
Channing scowled at the trash scattered across the floor. “This place is a pigsty.”
“Yep.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Well, it does me. While we’re waiting on those two, we’re going to pick this crap up and throw it out.”
Colby’s eyes narrowed. “You ain’t our maid, Chan.”
“You need one. Besides, I said we, not me.” Her crafty smile turned into a frown as she picked up a crusty, half-eaten cinnamon roll wedged under the muddy floor mat. “Ugh. Find me something to use as a garbage bag.”
He rummaged under the seat until he found one. Shoving cellophane Twinkie wrappers, empty cans of Copenhagen and Skoal, half-full bottles www.samhainpublishing.com 45
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of Gatorade in the clear plastic shopping bag, Colby couldn’t recall the last time he’d cared enough to clean up for a woman. Never maybe.
“Do you guys really eat this kind of junk food all the time?”
“No. Sometimes we roll through the McDonald’s drive-thru.”
Channing chucked a gray athletic sock in the bag. “Here’s a warning, this stuff isn’t real food. It’ll kill you.”
“I know.” Colby found the matching dirty sock and balled it up and threw it in the trash. “We do have a kitchen in the trailer.”
“Do you use it?”
“Not really.”
“Well, it’s stupid not to. When we get to Limon, we’ll go to a real grocery store—not a convenience store—and stock up on real food.
Because I can’t eat like this.”
“Why not? Ain’t that part of the appeal of rodeo? Fried Twinkies, nachos, and cold beer?”
“Not for me.” Channing dangled a crumpled package of cheddar flavored Bugles in front of his face. “I’d be easier to jump over than walk around if I shoved this crap in my mouth every damn day.”
When she finished tidying up he softly said, “Channing.”
Those gold-flecked eyes met his. “What?”
“Get over here and kiss me.”
“But—”
“No buts. Now.” Colby’s strong fingers circled her upper arms and he hauled her across his lap. Before she opened her mouth to protest again, he swooped in for a hungry kiss.
Channing’s objection lasted less than three seconds before her hands were gripping his neck and her lithe body was plastered against his. Her mouth was welcoming, hot as sin and sweet as candy.
Colby lifted her until she straddled his lap. His hands inche
d up the inside of her shirt, softly stroking the trembling muscles of her belly. He loved how quickly she reacted to his every touch. He pulled his lips away 46
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a fraction and nibbled her jaw. “I wish you had on that flirty, little, yellow skirt you wore the first time I saw you.”
“Colby—”
“Then I could bunch it around your hips and pull aside your panties and stroke your sweet pussy without any barriers. I could get you off in less than two minutes. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, shug?”
“Mmm. So confident. Why don’t you see if you can’t get me off in two minutes through my clothes?”
“You challengin’ me?”
“You bet your tight cowboy ass I’m challenging you. Stop talking, kiss me, and put your money where your mouth is.” Channing circled her arms around his neck, balancing on her knees, giving him better access to the warm spot between her thighs. She bumped her hips against his stomach, while her eager kisses shattered his control.
This woman drove him insane with her sweetness and fire. Colby scraped his fingernail along the inside seam of her jeans, a lazy assault that made her squirm. He flicked his tongue over hers in the same languid manner, until she whimpered. When he kept his caresses simple and easy, she ripped her mouth away from his on a gasp.
“What are you doing? I think your two minutes are up.”
Colby left damp, open-mouthed kisses down the bared column of her throat. God. She smelled like wildflowers. “I’ve decided since I’m always tryin’ to beat the clock on the dirt, I ain’t gotta time myself now, or to give into your demands, greedy girl. See, now I’m thinkin’ I don’t want to rush this. I want you to feel the anticipation, so when I finally slide my cock inside you later tonight, you’ll remember how much you wanted it there.
How much you craved it.”
She whispered, “Don’t you want it?”
He tugged her face closer by a chunk of her hair until his hat brim shadowed her eyes. “I can hardly see straight, from wantin’ you, Channing. But I’ll be goddamned if you’ll take this from me because I can’t keep my hands off your tempting body. This is my show. You www.samhainpublishing.com 47
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wanted me to be in charge, so I’m remindin’ you we’re doing this my way, understand?”
The hood thunked back into place, shaking the truck frame, breaking the intense moment. The front cab doors slammed shut as Trevor and Edgard climbed in.
Edgard groaned. “Are you guys going to be fucking around back there all day? Because if you are, ride in the horse trailer. It’ll be damn distracting to hear your moans and smell sex as we’re trying to keep us on the road and in one piece.”
“Yeah,” Trevor chimed in. “I thought we were waitin’ until tonight for any more action?”
“Feeling left out?” Edgard asked.
“Don’t pout. It ain’t my fault you didn’t join in earlier,” Trevor shot back.
Great. Colby was acting like a pussy-whipped greenhorn who couldn’t think beyond getting in Channing’s pants. No way in hell would he admit that weakness to his traveling partners. Instead, he returned Channing to her side of the truck.
“Sorry. Yeah, we got carried away. You sure you don’t want me to drive? Because I’m thinkin’ me and Channing back here together, even with all our clothes on, is a bad idea.”
She snickered.
Trevor gunned the engine. “Hang on, it’s gonna be a tight turn to get out of here.”
Automatically, Colby and Edgard reached up for the handles hanging from the ceiling as Trevor whipped the big rig around.
Channing smoothed her hands down the outside of her thighs, then busied herself with compacting the trash. She leaned over the front seat.
“You guys have any junk up there that needs to be tossed out? It’s all picked up back here.”
Edgard glared at Colby. “You were making her clean up?”
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“Hell, no! I didn’t make her do nothin’. Must be a woman thing, it was something she did on her own.”
“Well, someone has to do it,” she retorted.
“Gracias,” Edgard said. “I promise we’ll try a little harder to keep it tidy now that you’re bunking with us, right, amigos?”
“Sounds good to me,” Trevor said.
Channing set her chin on her forearms, which were resting along the back edge of the front seat. “How are the sleeping arrangements going to work? There’s hardly enough room in the horse trailer for two people, let alone four.”
Trevor signaled and pulled onto the freeway. “We don’t all stay in the trailer. We rent a motel room. It’s easier to shower that way. Two of us stay in the room, and one of us sleeps out here. We rotate, so someone is always keeping an eye on the horses.”
“Someone meaning me usually sleepin’ with the damn horses,” Colby grumbled.
“Besides, sometimes we need privacy. A break from each other,”
Edgard said.
Trevor shot Edgard a strange look.
Channing glanced at Colby over her shoulder. He shrugged at her puzzled expression. She’d learn to deal with the two of them sniping at each other, or she wouldn’t. He preferred to stay out of it.
“Like I told Colby, I can’t eat fast food all the time. I don’t mind cooking if I’ve got the right supplies.”
“And like I told you, we don’t expect you to cook and clean for us, darlin’,” Colby said testily.
“Especially if you’re gonna make us eat vegetables.” Trevor shuddered. “Give me jerky and chili dogs over any of that green shit any day.”
Edgard nodded. “Don’t forget the Mexican delights of Taco Bell.”
“Or meat and potatoes,” Colby added.
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Channing rolled her eyes. She dug in her satchel and untangled her iPod. Once the earpieces were in place, she balled up her fleece-lined jacket to use for a pillow, rammed it in the corner, and closed her eyes.
Instead of gawking at Channing, looking far too tempting, even in sleep, Colby dry-washed his face and stared out the window at the landscape, a flat blandness spreading as far as the eye could see. The dirt in Oklahoma was an odd shade of pinkish orange and the horizon never changed from a washed-out, dirty gray.
He missed the brilliant blue Wyoming sky, with snowcapped mountains teasing in the distance. The rolling hills and valleys dotted with clusters of cedar and sagebrush. Herds of antelope running free among the wide-open spaces.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Channing shifting to get comfortable. She might look little, sweet and innocent, but the woman definitely knew her own mind and didn’t hesitate to speak it.
Colby tapped Edgard on the shoulder. “Wake me up when we gas up.” He leaned his shoulders against the seat, tugged his battered Resistol over his eyes and drifted off to the familiar sound of the wheels clacking on the highway.
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Chapter Four
“Channing?”
She blinked at the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window and scrambled upright. “What? Where are we?”
Trevor grinned and traced his fingers over her sleep-creased cheek.
“We’re about an hour outside Limon. Just wondered if you needed to use the bathroom before we get back on the road.”
“Wow. I slept for five hours?”
“Four. I’ve got a bit of a lead foot so we made good time.”
“I guess so. Where are Colby and Edgard?”
“Inside. Why? Did you need them for something?” Her skin was so smooth. How long had it been since he’d paid attention to the supreme softness of the skin on a woman’s face? Such a contrast from a man’s rough skin and stubble.
“No. I was just
curious.” Channing smiled and angled her head more deeply into his touch. “Mmm. That feels nice. I probably should get out and stretch my legs and visit the little girl’s room.”
“Let me help you.” Trevor clamped his hands over her slim hips and scooted her from the cab. When her boots hit the ground, he slammed the door, and crowded her against the truck bed. “But first, how about one of them sweet kisses, darlin’?”
She rose to her tiptoes and gave him a loud smacking smooch on his Adam’s apple. “Like that?”
“You got a mean streak, Chan.”
“No, sir. How about if you show me how you want to be kissed, Trev, so next time I won’t have to guess.”
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Trevor tilted his black Stetson further back on his head and lowered his face, keeping their eyes locked. When his mouth was close enough their breath mingled, he licked his lips and swept them across hers.
Lightly. Softly. Not applying pressure, not nibbling or teasing, not using his tongue, just feeling the warm fullness of her lips parting in expectation of his.
He brought his hand up to her shoulder and lazily rubbed his thumb over the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. Then he rimmed the inside of her full lower lip with inside edge of his upper lip. Back and forth, creating friction and heat and moisture. Just that slick, barely-there slide of mouth on mouth made her whimper.
Taking pity on her and himself, he pinched her stubborn chin between his thumb and forefinger and unlocked her jaw to accept the invasion of his tongue.
She responded with such unrestrained passion Trevor knew it was a damn good thing they were in public. As it was he wanted nothing more than to drop his Wranglers to the top of her Tony Lamas and drive into her hot little pussy, right there, next to the gas pumps at the Flying J
Truck Plaza.
Trevor forced his mouth away, trying to level his ragged breathing and he rested his forehead to hers. Once he regained control, he stepped back.
Channing smiled and tugged his hat back in place. “Now that’s what I call a kiss.”
Edgard said, “If you two are done sucking face, we need to get a move on.”