“If you’re asking whether I’ve slept with a woman before—yes. I’m not a virgin. This ain’t my first rodeo.”
Regan rolls those big, pretty blue eyes at me as her fingers trail along the top of the hotel bed that I’ve been crashing in all weekend. Then she plops down onto the comforter, bouncing twice like she’s testing it out for buoyancy. Her grin is wide and mischievous. We both know why we’re here and I like that there isn’t any pretending.
“Good. This ain’t my first rodeo either, cowboy,” she says with a smile.
She doesn’t look nervous. Not even a little. Most women I bring back to my room after a winning ride are either a little starstruck or playing coy. But Regan? She’s sitting there with a confidence that doesn’t quite fit her sweetness.
She’s young, sure, but not wide-eyed. Probably from some small town in North Carolina, never left the state, and frankly themore that I think about it, it’s better I don’t know too much about her.
I’m not saying I’m jaded, but after over a decade on the circuit, faces start to blur and nights with buckle bunnies tend to all go the same way. Quick, simple, transactional.Get on your back, legs apart,she comes, I come. We both leave satisfied and go our separate ways.
Sometimes it’s fun; other times, it’s just scratching an itch in a city I won’t remember with a face I forget the second she walks out the hotel door. Either way, we say goodbye, and I move forward. But something in the air feels different tonight. Maybe it’s because it was my last ride and now, I’m officially retired. Maybe it’s because I get the feeling that Regan isn’t just another pretty face looking for a story to tell her friends later.
Or maybe it’s the way she said I’d fall in love with her, like she genuinely believed it.
I wanted to roll my eyes when she said that. I don’t fall in love. Never have, and I doubt I ever will. But I’ll give her this, she’s got spunk for suggesting it. She’s not shy, not even close. And I like that she thinks she could be the one to change that about me. Now that I think about it, maybe I do need to set some ground rules with her.
“I’ve been in the circuit since I was twenty-one years old,” I say, watching her closely. “Over a decade now. Been at the top the whole time, ten months on the road every year. One-night stands? Yeah, they’ve happened. A lot.”
She nods, calm as hell, like she’s logging stats for my riding career, not my sex life. “Makes sense.”
“Okay, so this won’t be a problem then?”
Her brows pinch together and her nose scrunches like she’s confused what I’m asking her. “Uh, a problem?”
“Yeah. You fallin’ in love with me and going crazy or something.”
She throws her head back and laughs, so loud and hard she flops backward onto the bed, her whole body shaking. Her breasts jiggle under that cute denim dress she’s wearing, and when she’s done, she wipes at her eyes, but the grin is still firmly in place.
“The only problem we’ll have tonight,” she says, sitting up and locking those baby blues on mine, “is if you don’t make me come. You promised a good time, so show me one.”
Well, hell yeah. That’s all the invitation I need.
I close the space between us, stepping between her knees. She leans back on her elbows, tilting her chin up as her fingers find the zipper at the front of her dress. One quick tug, and it splits open, sliding off her shoulders to reveal she’s not wearing a bra. Just a simple pair of black panties andshit.Her tits are perfect—not too big, not too small, the kind you dream about even when you’ve seen it all. I don’t discriminate, but if I had to pick, these would be it for me. I brush my fingers across them, watching her nipples harden as I circle them, before my hands drop lower, tugging on the waistband of her thong and peeling them off.
When I straighten, she’s already leaned back, knees wide, heels on the bed, absolutely no hesitation, no shame. Her hand slides between her legs, her fingers find her pussy as she starts to play with her clit, her eyes daring me to join her.
I kneel on the floor, eye level with her, watching as she watches me. Her small fingers circle her clit a couple of times, then glide lower, brushing across her soaked opening. When one finger trails upward, I catch her hand and bring it to my mouth. I pop her finger in and suck, slow and deliberate, tasting her for the first time.
“Yes,” she hisses, her eyes blazing. “More of that energy, please.”
My palms slide to her knees, pressing them firmly as I spread her legs wider. I take her ankles and then drape them over my shoulders before lowering my face and licking a long, unhurried line across her slit.
She collapses back onto the bed, her hands tangling in my hair as she guides me back to her core. My fingers move, parting her lips as I take her in—every soaked inch of her. Then I lick again, slowly, my tongue trailing from her opening to her clit. I end with a harsh, pointed flick that makes her whole body jolt upwards. Her eyes shoot open, and she sits up, watching me.
“More.”
I do it again.
Lick.
Flick.
Lick.
Flick.
This time, I add a finger, sliding it into her heat. She’s tight, squeezing me so good with those tight muscles that it sends a jolt of need straight to my cock. It’s going to be a snug fit, but I can’t wait to be inside her. To watch the way that she takes me.
