Ruby
Dusty hasn’t spoken for a few minutes and I think I ruined everything.
I’m so stupid. Who talks about sexual assault on a sexy date?
Everything was perfect before that. The horses are tied to a tree, shaded and happy. The river gurgles over rocks gently. It’s warm but not oppressive, the breeze keeping us cool. There are birds and wildflowers everywhere the eye can see. What would it be like to live in a place where everything is so wild and free?
I’m desperate to change the subject. I point to the sky again. “Do you see the elephant yet?”
“Nope.”
It actually doesn’t look like an elephant anymore anyway.
He sits up. All his muscles are rigid and tight. He’s lost that laid-back and flirty feeling.
I have cockblocked myself. Because of course I have. When do I do anything right?
Sometimes, I think I should have just blown that creep on his casting couch. I didn’t want my first time with a man to be like that, but maybe I’m too straight-laced. It’s just sex, right? I could have forwarded my career instead of killing it. For what, ten minutes? I’m supposed to be an actress. I could have pretended to like it, couldn’t I?
But no. My principles wouldn’t allow me to, and my principles suck at paying the bills.
There probably was no right choice to make because it was an impossible situation. But I’m tired of always being empty-handed. It isn’t working for me in Hollywood, and it sure as heck isn’t going to work for me in Pair-a-Dice.
What am I even doing here? I should just tell Dusty let’s call it a day and head back to the ranch. I’ll read in my room and ask for a tray to be brought up for supper. And then tomorrow, head back home.
But...that’s not what I want. I want to have this week. This one measly week. I may never have sex again if my history of bad dates continues. This might be my best and only chance at an affair. I have no competition for Dusty right now—I’m the only woman under fifty on this ranch. He likes me. I like him. And while I don’t have anything to judge it against, I’m pretty sure last night was as amazing as it gets. He certainly didn’t complain.
Can I salvage this day?
Get into character, girl.
What would a sexually confident woman do? I give an exaggerated sigh and strike a pose that arches my back enticingly. At least, I hope enticingly. I imagine the silhouette of a woman on the mud flaps of a big rig. That’s sexy right?
I might be hopeless.
Say something.
“I haven’t been swimming in a river since I was a kid.” I sigh again. “Too bad I didn’t bring a suit.”
One thing I appreciate about acting is not having to write my own lines. I’m obviously not good at writing convincing dialogue.
He turns his head toward me, taking in my pose, I think. At least focusing on my breasts. I can see the wheels turning in his head. “It’s a pretty nice swimming hole too. I didn’t bring a suit either.” He inclines his head like, “Isn’t that just too bad?”
“Whatever should we do?” I ask on an exaggerated question. “We both want to go swimming. We’re all alone here. But we don’t have suits to change into.”
Dusty looks at me for a long time. Maybe too long? His jaw relaxes. “Well, we could always swim in the suits God gave us.”
I blink, pretending I’m surprised. “I don’t know...I suppose we’ve already seen each other naked. So...”
He smiles and my heart trips all over itself. Cowboy smiles are a thing of beauty.
I’m so glad he was my first. I’m glad I ran out of that director’s office. I’m glad my dates never made it to my bedroom. Dusty is the perfect memory. I’ll treasure last night for the rest of my days.
Dusty stands and pulls me up. Then we stare at each other. Like...what now? I was good at talking the talk, but can I...dare I? Dusty grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off, the fabric rolling up over his muscled torso. He wads it casually in his hands, then tosses it to the picnic blanket.
Wow. He’s just...wow.
His skin is drum-tight over row after row of perfectly sculpted abs. Thick arms bulge with meaty, rounded muscles. His wide shoulders could move a house, but it’s his torso that I’m strangely attracted to. The way his wide lateral muscles taper down a trim waist into the waistband of his jeans. He quirks his eyebrows at me, teasing out a smile. And then his hand slides to his buckle.
I swallow hard, my attention raptly focused on that hand.
“You okay, Ruby?”
I nod. Sure, I’m okay. How could I not be okay? The hottest man I’ve ever seen is undoing his belt buckle. Slowly. Then he unbuttons his fly—his thick, rock-hard cock swelling up the front of his blue boxer briefs. He pulls his pants down, somehow stepping out of his boots without the falling down mess that I would be if I tried that maneuver.
He’s huge. Everywhere, but I’m not looking at anything else but the bulge. Then he steps out of his underwear. I can’t breathe. He wraps one fist around the hardy base of his cock, squeezes it and slides down. I’m on fire watching him handle himself.
“You gonna strip?”
Now I’m self-conscious. But his hard-on is for me, so he must want to see me naked as much as I want to see him. I slide my shirt up and over my head before unhooking my bra and letting it fall.
He whistles. “Holy shit. Your tits are amazing. Fucking amazing.”
Well, that gives me a little more confidence. I bring my shorts and panties down together, toeing off my shoes before I try to get them all the way off. Now we’re both naked, standing outdoors and in the sunlight.
“Do that again,” I boldly say. “With your hand.”
“This, darlin’?” He grabs himself again. Then he strokes himself lazily.
“Yes, that. I like it.”
His wry grin doesn’t even faze me. “You like watching me touch myself? You want me to keep doing it?”
I nod. “Does that make me perverted?” The sun catches the glint of precum on the tip of his cock and my mouth waters.
“If it does, you’re in good company.” He glides up and down again. “You keep looking at me like that and we’re not going swimming.”
I make like I’m going to run. “Last one there is a rotten egg!”
I don’t make it two steps before Dusty catches me around my middle and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh twenty pounds instead of...more. He smacks my ass a few times when I protest, so I smack his round, firm ass right back. We make it to the river pretty fast.
Wait.
“Dusty, don’t you dare!”
He wades right in and takes us down into the chilly water. I come up sputtering.
“I don’t dare what, city girl?”
He’s laughing at my outrage, so I barrel into him and dunk him this time. The water is freezing, but Dusty’s slick skin is still warm, so I drape myself over him as he wades us further into the swimming hole. I love touching him, so I indulge myself, running my hands all over the hard planes of his body.
He wraps my legs around his waist, smooshing my tits against his steel torso. “Your nips could cut glass. You cold or turned on?”
I rub my chest against him. “Both.”
Dusty cups one of my breasts, my flesh overflowing his hand. When he brings his mouth down to it, I can’t help but gasp and arch my back. “I love how sensitive your tits are.” He sucks as much of me into his mouth as he can and moans around me, kneading my ass.
His hand slides into the crevice and he starts to use his fingers to explore my pussy, starting just above my opening and stopping just short of my clit. I gasp, gulping air like a guppy out of water.
“Easy, angel.” He pushes two fingers into my pussy and begins to slowly fuck me with them, twisting and pressing against my G-spot, and then pulling them in and out. Over and over, all the while watching my face. “Oh, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”
I can only whimper my response. All my world has become the tight space around his fingers.
“You’re so hot and wet. You might have been a virgin just yesterday, but you’re a woman now, aren’t you? Say it. Tell me you want me to make you come."
The spinning in my head increases. My back arches and pussy clenches around his beefy fingers. I can't concentrate on anything but the delicious waves of pleasure between my legs. I’m grinding up to get more of his fingers inside me. My nerves are red hot, screaming for release. “Make me come, Dusty. God, please.”
I cry out, grinding against his hand. I ride it hard, desperate for the violent orgasm I know is coming.
"My naughty city girl," he whispers. "Such a bad girl, letting her cowboy fingerfuck her outside where anyone could see. Bad, bad girl."
"Oh, God," I plead.
The fiery pressure builds and builds until white hot ecstasy jolts from my pussy through every other part of my body. Maybe even my soul. My hips start to buck violently.
“That’s it, my dirty angel. Come all over my hand.”
I sob as the fierce release wracks my body until I’m worn out and trembling. I bury myself in his neck. clutching his biceps, holding on for dear life as the orgasm winds down.
Slowly, I become aware of the cold water, the hot sun overhead, the sounds of the winds rustling the wild grasses. The thumping in my head slows and I shiver. “God, I need a nap.”
He chuckles, the rumble low in his throat. “I don’t think so.”
I pull back and look up at him. His face is tense, stern. But his eyes are anything but cold. No, they burn warm like the sun. “Dusty?”
"You’re not sleeping yet. Not until I've fucked the angel sweetness right out of you."