Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)(61)

“Be nice if you had a little faith in me, Hollywood,” he shot back.
“Trusting lot, aren’t we?”

“Goes with the territory for both of us.”

“This goes with the territory as well. Please, please be careful tonight, Chase. Promise me.”

Touched by her genuine concern, he said gruffly, “I promise.”

“Good. And I expect you to share your idea of a tempting treat with me after the rodeo ends.”

No way could he confess she was the most tempting thing in his life right now. Imagining her beautiful form stretched out nekkid on his bed as he worshipped every millimeter of her body. With his hands. His mouth. His tongue. At least twice.
“Chase? You still there?”

“Just thinking about the treat I’m gonna offer you.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

“It’s long and hard and filled with sweet white cream.”

Ava sighed dreamily. “Am I perverted for admitting I can’t wait to wrap my lips around it and taste it?”

He chuckled, even as he inwardly groaned at the sexy mental image she provided. “Are you in for a big surprise. See you later.”

“You do realize you’re supposed to stay on the bull a full eight seconds and not hop off at six point nine,” Ava said after he’d cleared the contestant’s area.
“Funny.” Chase tried not to limp, but he’d taken a real ass buster.
“It sucks I can’t go behind the chutes.”

“So you’ve said. After every performance,” he said dryly. “You’re shit outta luck unless you can miraculously prove you’re a stock contractor, a promoter or a member of the media.”

Ava stopped and looked at him. Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been snooping on my computer?”

Why the hell would she ask that? “No.”

“Have you even looked at any of the rides I emailed to you?”

Probably not wise to admit he’d fallen behind watching the rides she’d so painstakingly taped. But he was riding a hundred times better than just two weeks ago. He carried enough rodeo superstition that he feared watching it might jinx his run of good luck. So he deflected. “Come on, sweet thang. It’s time for that treat I promised you.” He towed her to a food booth by the carnival grounds. “We’ll take two fried Twinkies.”

“That is not what I was expecting from your description, Sundance.”

“I gathered that, Hollywood.” Chase paid and handed Ava the stick, warning, “Careful. It’s hot.”

“Maybe I’ll just blow on it a little.” She held the phallic-shaped object close to her pursed lips.
This was a bad idea.
“Or, maybe it’d be better if I sucked on just the very tip. That’s always the best part.” She opened her mouth and those lush pink lips enclosed the end. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked and emitted throaty groans of satisfaction.
Then she licked all the way around the head. The tip. No, the top of the Twinkie.
Dammit. Chase could not tear his eyes away from her avid mouth, nipping teeth and flashing tongue.
“Oops. I’d better be careful not to let that sweet, hot cream explode and coat my lips before I have a chance to swallow it all.”

This was f*cking torture and she knew it.
Keeping her eyes on his, Ava opened her mouth and the entire Twinkie disappeared inside.
Holy f*ck. She was deep throating it.
Then she slowly, sensually, slid it back out, a little at a time. She licked her lips. “Mmm. You were right. This is delicious.”

Chase had to turn away when she noisily started sucking again. He was hard as a f*cking post just from watching her. He counted to one hundred before he chanced a look at her.