Stories From The 6 Train 1(20)

Cydney & Colt





19





Cydney





“My best friend is the very best. No question,” I assert, wrapping my arm around Madison’s waist. I met her in college, and we clicked right away, even though we’re total opposites. She’s all sweet and innocent, and I’m anything but.

“Cydney’s with me,” she tells the burly security guard standing at the entrance to the backstage area of The Garden, where she’s a VIP something-or-other. All I know is she gets me the hookup on the regular when there are awesome shows.

And right now? I’m about to get up close and personal with some sexy-as-sin sweaty cowboys that just finished up the rodeo in the arena.

“You going to have some fun with me tonight, Maddie?” I grin, sure that she’s going to find some excuse to not let loose with one of these men we’re about to meet.

“Actually—” She bites her lip and her cheeks go pink.

“Oh my god. Spill.” She never gets that look on her face. “Is something going on with the dude you brought last night?” Instead of me. I was irritated at first that I had to wait until tonight to come see the show, but if Maddie has something going on with a guy, then good for her. That’s all I have to say. Well, that and it’s about damn time.

“Later. Let’s just say that we made good use of that private box last night.”

I gasp. “No way. Sweet little Maddie?” I grin wider. Maybe she’s not so innocent after all. “I must be rubbing off on you.”

“Shh,” she hisses. “Later.”

I don’t have time to push the issue because we walk up to something that totally distracts me. A wall of hard, tanned muscle.

Come to mama! These cowboys are larger than life up close. I send up a silent prayer of thanks to the sex gods that these men have yet to put their shirts back on. I’m not really sure why the shirts came off in the first place, but I’m not complaining.

Madison walks me right up to the group standing around backstage. “Colt,” she says, all smooth and businesslike as if the pecs on this guy don’t faze her a bit. “I’d like you to meet my friend Cydney.”

Again, I have the best bestie ever. Colt. More like a fucking stallion.

I put on my most flirtatious grin and sidle up to him. “I must say, you’re pretty amazing with a rope.”

He grins back, slow and sexy, casually taking me in. But his dark eyes flash with something a little dangerous that I find exciting. I want to know more about that.

“So I’ve been told.” His voice has a scratchy quality to it, and I feel the roughness all the way to my core. In a totally good way. Like the way a bit of scruff on a man’s jaw is just the right kind of roughness. Especially scraping against my inner thighs.

I clear my throat as I think of something to say. It’s suddenly difficult now that my mind has gone there.

Colt gives me a wink as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He slings an arm around Maddie’s shoulders. “This girl here seems to have her finger on all the hot spots of the city. You didn’t steer us wrong last night, did she guys?”

The last remark is tossed over his shoulder to some of the other cowboys, who all respond with laughs and cheers.

“Where should we go tonight?” Colt’s question is directed at Maddie, but his eyes are all over me.

“I know a place,” I say before Maddie has a chance. “Complete with a mechanical bull. You game?”

Before I know it, three of the rodeo cowboys have changed and are walking down Thirty-fourth with Maddie and me. We duck into a crowded bar, and the drinks start flowing.

“How long are you in town for?” I ask Colt.

“Few more nights.” His eyes flash again with that same flicker of danger, his eyebrow lifted in question, telling me everything I need to know.

He is totally down with a little fun while he’s in town. Good. So am I. A lock of dark hair falls over his brow, and I can’t resist reaching up and pushing it back. He steps in a little closer, and the air between us thickens, awareness taking hold of me.

Tilting my head up, I smirk. “So, tell me about those rope skills you mentioned earlier.”

Colt lifts a hand to my bare shoulder and trails a finger down my arm. When he reaches my wrist, he lifts it, then grabs the other. He traps them together tightly in front of my face in the narrow space between us, locking them in his big hands.

“First thing you have to know is that you have to take your time,” he murmurs, his voice going low and raspy. “Go slow. You don’t want to rush it. Make sure she’s not skittish.”

My breath catches, and my skin tingles as his eyes glimmer with meaning. He is so not talking about horses.