Page 6 of The Curvy Girl’s Lucky Cowboy (Cowboys Love Curvy Girls)

Chapter five

B o

A cool morning breeze carries the smell of sharp pine and the fried doughnuts Julie’s cooking up in the tent next to ours. We’re set up at the end of the aisle, where we have enough room to park our air-conditioned van to keep the animals comfortable and safe in their kennels.

There’s a staff of three from the clinic working the booth, and an army of volunteers from the high school who are getting extra credit for community service.

I straighten the pile of adoption forms, reminding everyone not to commit to anything or anyone.

No one is walking off with any pets today.

We’ll be thoroughly vetting any applications on Monday to make certain we’re providing a good match for these animals.

I raise my gaze from the table and spot Riley in the van, petting Shorty, a wiry terrier-cocker spaniel mix.

She’s wearing a green floral dress that accentuates her eyes as well as her curves.

I slip into the vehicle and sneak up behind her. “Is it love?”

Riley spins to me and breaks into a giggle. “I’d call it a whole lot of like, but who am I kidding? I could adopt all of them. Do you think any of them will find forever homes?”

“I do. I have a stack of applications to look over. It’s just a matter of finding the best matches. After all these animals have been through, they deserve it.”

“Dr. Jordain?” Kate, our receptionist, calls out from the table I just left. I pop my head out of the van and see she’s surrounded by my camera crew. I sigh, wishing they would’ve listened to me. I’m on my own time now. I clearly told them I didn’t want cameras near me or Riley.

I step down from the rig. “What’s up guys?”

Jerry, the cameraman I know from LA, shrugs. “Just thought we could shoot some footage of you engaging with the community.”

Riley steps by my side. “Actually, I plan on interacting with my date.” She peers up at me with an encouraging wink. “And we would both appreciate a little privacy.”

Jerry’s gaze flickers from me to Riley until he finally gets the message. “Of course. We don’t have to film you. I’m sure we can find enough B-roll to shoot without you in it. The town is picturesque on its own.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m grateful too,” Riley chimes in. “I wasn’t planning to be on camera.”

I possessively place my hand across her shoulders and let it slip to the small of her back where I guide her away from the booth. “Shall we?” Her green eyes flash with excitement.

“Absolutely. I saw someone setting up drums earlier. Let’s head to the stage.

” We leisurely walk toward the sound of music and stop to browse through a few jewelry booths.

We spend a few minutes there and move on, strolling to an exhibit of windchimes made of stained glass.

Riley lifts one from the shaded display rack and holds it up to the light.

“So, do those guys always follow you around?” She asks, while carefully placing the chime back on its hook.

“The crew? Not even close,” I explain as we pick up the path.

“The friend connected to Hollywood I was telling you about thinks his concept might be good for a limited series. Four or five episodes max. They already have enough footage to put a demo together, but they always want more. They’re usually not in my way, so I’m happy to help. ”

“But not today,” she adds, as we approach the band area.

“No.” I grin down at her. “Definitely not today.” If she knew how much I’ve been thinking about her, and looking forward to our date, she’d realize I’m not exaggerating.

We stand on the sidelines in the grass and watch the dancers for a bit, but when the music slows and the steel guitarist starts playing something soulful and twangy, I take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. I slide my hands encircling her waist, tracing the sweeping curve of her hips—

Riley runs her delicate fingers along my shoulders before looping them around my neck.

The scent of her hair is impossibly feminine.

Her skin — incredibly soft. My physical reaction to her overwhelms me for a moment.

I peer down at her pert nose, dusted with freckles, to her delicious pink lips, and scan up her pretty face again, finally meeting her eyes, sparkling like emeralds in the sun as she blinks up at me.

We stay silent, staring at each other, swaying to the song with our bodies pressed together. I lean down, grazing her soft cheeks with my lips and inhaling her sweet skin—before I press my mouth against hers, gently at first before kissing her full on. Her lips are like magnets to mine.

She moans into the next kiss, sweeping her tongue into my mouth.

Desire unravels down my spine like a ribbon of hot lava.

Riley pulls back slightly and meets my eyes, as though she’s aware of the sensation swirling around us too, and needs to check if what she’s feeling is real.

Oh, this is real, darlin’. Earth shaking, bolt of lightning, no playing around—real. I tighten my hold and—

“Dr. Jordain. Dr. Jordain.” A child’s voice takes me out of the moment, followed by a tug of my jeans. I look down just as the kid shouts, “Mommy, this is Dr. Jordain! He let us name his baby owl Hoot. Can we get one?”

Riley reaches up and whispers in my ear.

***

Riley

“I think your fan club has joined us.”

Bo grins down at me and we reluctantly break from our dance.

By the time we reach the grass, he’s surrounded by kids asking about Hoot, and wondering why they can’t have a pet owl just like him.

I watch as he patiently explains how Hoot and all the other owls are happier in the wild.

To disappointed little faces, he tells them how he’ll be releasing Hoot as soon as he’s strong enough to be on his own.

My lips are still tingling from his kiss. I think I’m obsessed. Thankfully, the moment he has the chance to politely break away from his admirers, he grabs my hand and takes the opportunity. “Want to get out of here?”

“Never thought you’d ask.”

We laugh, and hurry to his pickup. Once we’re inside, we’re out of view from everyone. Bo watches me mischievously from the driver’s side, and adjusts his seat, sending it all the way back, as far as it will go before reaching over the console for me.

We make out in the parking lot of the fair as the hours fly by.

I don’t remember my responsibilities until I notice the sun has set, which means I’m either late, or it’s time for mom to take her medicine.

I’m burning up for him, but force myself to do the right thing and ask him to drive me home anyway.

Bo parks in front of the house and turns off the ignition but doesn’t leave the truck. He turns to me and says, “I’m not finished with you yet. I haven’t even started.”

His voice is low and hungry, a deep rumble that resonates within me.

I'm still within the window of Mom's medication timing, so I'm not going to leave this truck right now. Bo leans in, his hand cupping the back of my neck and tugs me toward him. His lips meet mine again, but this time there’s an urgency, a need that wasn’t there before.

I melt into him, my hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

A soft moan escapes my lips and Bo takes the sound into his mouth, deepening the kiss. He lets out a raspy groan, kissing me harder, more fiercely, as he tucks his hand under the hem of my dress and slides it up my thigh. My heart jackknifes in my chest as his fingers graze over my sheer panties.

I moan softly, my eyes fluttering closed as I lose myself in him.

“My God, you’re gorgeous, Riley. Every fucking inch of you.” His breath is ragged as he traces the lace of my sopping panties before slipping his fingertips under the elastic edge.

He's in no rush. His touch is gentle and slow, masterful.

I gasp as he finds my wet center and dips his fingers inside me, circling and exploring, all the while kissing me.

His tongue mirrors the rhythm of his hand, driving me insane.

This man is so perfect. I clasp my hands around his neck, slipping my tongue into his mouth with a groan, lifting my hips begging to meet his fingers.

Finally he finds my clit with his feather-light touch, sending pools of wet heat to my pussy.

I grasp his shoulders, holding on as he slides a finger inside me, while his thumb keeps steady pressure on my clit. I rock against him, as he finds that sweet spot inside me that makes me see stars.

“You’re so beautiful, Riley,” he whispers against my skin.

I can feel the tension building, my body coiling tighter with every stroke, faster and faster.

His kisses swallow my moans as my hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath his shirt.

I want to touch him, to explore his body the way he’s exploring mine, but I’m lost in a whirlwind of sensations and can’t focus on anything but the pleasure he’s giving me.

As if reading my mind, he presses his thumb harder against my clit, tightening the circles he’s making. I start to shake, and know I’m close to going over the edge. Bo breaks the kiss, his breath hot against my ear. “Let go, I want to feel you come, and taste you on my fingers.”

His words send me spiraling. I convulse around him, moaning as torrents of extasy crash over me.

I shudder against him, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

He presses his forehead to mine, his hand slowing but not withdrawing, as if he’s unwilling to break our connection.

I open my eyes to find him watching me, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

Bo holds me close, his hand still moving gently, drawing out every last wave of my orgasm until I collapse against him, breathless.

He gently withdraws his hand, but keeps me cradled against him, his lips pressing soft kisses to my temple as I come down from the high.

“That was ...” I start, but words fail me.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his thumb brushes against my cheek. “That was beautiful. You don’t need to say anything.”

We stay with his arms wrapped around me and my head resting on his chest for a while.

I listen to his strong steady heartbeat, letting myself be lulled into sweet contentment.

Nothing on earth compares to being in Bo’s arms, but eventually, reality begins to creep back in.

I remember Mom is waiting for me. Her medicine is sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Bo,” I whisper. He opens his eyes, and the intensity I see there makes my heart tumble over itself.

Leaning in, without a word, he kisses me softly, reverently.

His hands move to my face, cupping my cheeks as he kisses me again.

This time, like a starving man. I can smell myself on him, and it sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through me. But—

“I should go, Mom needs her medicine,” I whisper, making no move to leave his arms.

“Why is it so hard for me to let you go?”