Long Hard Ride (Rough Riders #1)(34)

Huskily, he said, “Lift your top leg. That’s it.” He swooped down and took her swollen sex in his mouth again.


Channing shifted and licked the head of his cock as delicately as a cat. Gradually, she brought him deeper, her mouth made little happy humming noises and she used her hand to stroke his shaft while her fingers fondled his balls.


For being a novice, her mouth and her touch were sheer heaven.


Trevor knew he wouldn’t last. He focused all his attention on Channing’s clit, knowing she probably wouldn’t last long either.


She didn’t. She came with a gasp and the intake of air around his dick made his balls tighten up.


He was so close. He rose to his knees so she could deep throat him, as he continued to tongue her softly, bringing her down from her juicy climax.


All of a sudden heat shot down his spine, a hot poker between his legs and he waited for that pulsing rush to start.


The door clicked open. Trevor looked up from between Channing’s thighs into Edgard’s face. In that split second, his orgasm hit, semen rocketed out the end of his cock and Channing sucked him dry while Edgard watched.


Trevor closed his eyes, threw back his head and enjoyed the hell out of it—the thundering climax and the exhibitionism.


After the blood quit rushing in his ears and his cock went half-limp, his gaze caught Edgard’s again.


“I wondered if you were in here f*cking off,” Edgard said softly, “but I hadn’t thought you were literally f*cking off. Time to go, amigo. We’re late.” He turned and left without looking back.


Trevor fell on his side. He muttered, “Fuck.”


Channing scooted around. “Trev? Is everything okay?”


She didn’t need to get in the middle of this. He forced a smile. “Just great, darlin’. Just catchin’ my breath.”


“It’s okay if you have to go.”


“Unfortunately, as Edgard pointed out, I am runnin’ late. No regrets over our sexy interlude, but can you get to the rodeo grounds all right?


Or do you want me to wait for you?”


“No. You go on. I still need to shower.”


Trevor kissed her thoroughly, surprised by how much he enjoyed his taste and her taste mingling on his tongue. “A sixty-nine virgin no more.


You rocked my world and the horse trailer this morning, hot girl.”


She blushed. “Same goes.”


As he dressed he knew next time he’d remember to lock the damn door.


Chapter Ten


It didn’t take long for Channing to get ready and she eagerly left the cramped motel room for fresh air and blue skies. In this higher elevation, the sun had burned away the cool morning air quickly. It was warm, but the lack of humidity made it bearable.


Her ticket was at the box office, as promised. She scanned the arena and spied the bleachers beside the chutes. Before she wandered over to her seat, she watched the action unfold in the arena.


The team penning competition was nearly over. This event fascinated her because it seemed the teams with the best times were the most experienced, unlike most of the rodeo events where youth had an edge.


The two men and one woman sorting the cattle were in their late fifties.


They’d separated the three calves wearing the number four into the pens faster than the next closest team by a good fifteen seconds.


So did that mean that Colby could compete in rodeo for another twenty years? Wouldn’t he get tired of it? Or was this a lifelong obsession like other sports?


Channing bought a couple bottles of water. Rummaging in her bag for her notebook, her cell phone rang. She answered it absentmindedly without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”



“Channing? Is that you?”


Her stomach dropped. “Who else would it be, Mom?”


“You don’t need to be snippy.”


“Sorry.” She inhaled slowly. “How are you?”


“I’m fine. And you?”


“Just great.” Come on. Get to it. The only good thing about her mother’s phone calls was that she didn’t drag them out with inane chitchat.


“That’s good. Well, the reason I called is because I’ve received some interesting news.” Pause. “Your friend Melinda Baxter? She and her delightful fiancé Robert ran off to Aruba and were married last weekend.


Isn’t that marvelous?”


“Splendid,” she said sweetly.


“I tell you, Melinda’s mother was shocked as they’d already booked the cathedral months ago. Anyway, since Melinda and Robert skipped the formal wedding ceremony, they’ve rented the Gregory Art Museum and are hosting an enormous reception next weekend. Naturally, I assured Melinda you’d be in attendance.”


Channing seethed. She was twenty-five years old. Her mother had no right to speak for her. But it was nothing new in her life, which was the biggest reason why she’d run away from that life. She wondered if she’d ever be able to return to it.


“You will be finished with this little…rebellion of yours by then, won’t you?”