Page 5 of Rodeo Rivals (Hope Runs Deep #11)

McKayla

W hen a guy kissed as skillfully as Wyatt, could McKayla really be blamed for throwing her sense of self-preservation out the window?

Yes.

Absolutely, but she refused to feel bad about it. She needed to get her rocks off, and he seemed to be more than willing to see to that. She was still in her twenties. Wasn’t she supposed to be making poor decisions in life?

As Wyatt gripped her hair at the base of her skull, the sensation of his hold zinged straight through to her core. She shuddered and skimmed her fingers along the bottom hem of his shirt. Did he have a six-pack or was he soft? She had to find out.

With a slight tug, he urged her head backward slightly and deepened his kiss. His tongue slid along hers in a devious dalliance of passion. If it wasn’t for the center console, the two of them probably would’ve screwed right then and there in the parking lot of either the bar or his hotel.

Actually, she wondered why he bothered taking her back to his hotel. He had a rather expensive truck bed camper. From what she could tell, it even had a tip out. So it had to be far roomier than hers.

Then again, the type of fucking she hoped for required a bit of leg room. While exceedingly convenient and practical, there wasn’t much space in those bunks. So, she had high hopes for Wyatt as he groaned and broke their intense make-out session.

Pulling back but keeping his hand in her hair, he rested his forehead against hers. “You taste amazing.”

“Thanks.” She smirked. “It’s the bourbon.”

His chest shook slightly as he chuckled. “I want more.” He sat farther back and looked her in the eye. “Are you up for it?”

“As long as it’s more than an eight-second ride.”

As he furrowed his brows, he cocked his head ever so slightly. Was he confused by her reference? Between the hat, the shirt, and the rather large belt buckle, he wore the uniform of a cowboy. No one dressed like that wasn’t into the rodeo. He had to be a fan.

When the grin spread across his face, she nodded internally. He knew. He got it.

“Only one way to find out.” The dome light turned on as he opened the door. “Giddyup.”

Wyatt

Did McKayla know him? Wyatt wasn’t a headliner or anything.

He wasn’t at the top of the rankings, but he sure as shit wasn’t a slouch.

He held his own in the arena. The comment about the eight-second ride really caught him off guard.

She had to know him. Why else would she say that?

No one referred to riding like that unless they were familiar with rodeo.

There were all kinds of buckle bunnies in this world. Who was he to discriminate? He could use a romp in the hay to settle his nerves. Coming back from an injury had him on edge. This would definitely relax him.

Strolling through the lobby area with his arm slung around her waist, he kept his head down, hoping to avoid anyone on the circuit. He’d purposely avoided going out with them because he didn’t want to get too drunk, but here he was taking a woman back to his room. He’d never hear the end of it.

Thankfully, everyone else had either already gone to bed or was still out partying. Wyatt unlocked his room, stepped aside, and gestured for McKayla to enter. “After you.”

The way she sauntered inside, hips swiveling, had his eye going straight to her plump behind.

Licking his lips, he couldn’t wait to peel those jeans off her.

She had a few visible tattoos. He was curious if she had any hidden ones.

Were they naughty? He wouldn’t put it past this woman to have something a little X-rated somewhere.

With the door closing behind him, he stuck the key card in his pocket and stalked up to the sexy woman in his room. She turned at the last moment, wearing the sultriest smile he’d ever seen.

Crouching slightly, he wrapped his arms around her so that his forearms rested just below her glorious ass cheeks and lifted her. Flailing a bit, she finally slung her arms over his shoulders and wrapped her legs around him for stability. He crashed his mouth over hers—taking a kiss.

Her body heated against his as he walked toward the wall, stopping only when he felt resistance.

As he claimed her mouth, she snaked her hands up the back of his neck, lifted his hat from his head, and tossed it.

Her nails raked through his hair, making his balls tighten and his dick test the integrity of the zipper on his jeans.

Groaning, he moved his lips away from hers and kissed down along her jaw until he found the crook of her neck. Nipping, he delighted in the sound of her moans as she squeezed her thighs against his hips. This woman was a tempting, tasty morsel that he had all night to enjoy.

She squealed when his teeth pressed harder into her sweet flesh. “Easy there, cowboy. We’re not in high school anymore. No marks.”

He chuckled, turned, and gently tossed her onto the bed. Another giddy squeak escaped her when she bounced. As she collected herself, he made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt.

Up on her elbows, she bit her lower lip as her gaze explored him. His dick twitched under her appreciation. He cocked an eyebrow and dropped onto the bed. Crawling up her body, he locked his eyes on hers. The heat within them melted any reservations he had about taking what he wanted from her.

With his elbows on either side of her head, he stared down while resting between her legs. “I can see it in your eyes, but I’m going to need to hear you say it. Can I have you?”