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The Virgin Cowboy(3)

By:Alexa Riley


I watch her drink and laugh with her friend. Slowly closing in on her. I’m not liking that men are starting to glance their way. She looks happy, and she’s having a good time. I want to watch her and get lost in this. I could get drunk off her. The thought of another whiskey is long gone. This is all I need.

They both stand up to go and dance, and I’m on my feet. But before I can cut them off, Blake, Dolly’s brother, is there punching a man who tried to grab the brunette. When he turns around, his eyes go to her.

“Holy shit. I’ve never seen Blake lose his temper before.” Dolly says exactly what I was thinking. Blake is always laid-back and calm. “She’s as good as roped.”

I know Dolly means the brunette she’s been laughing and drinking with all night. I think she’s right.

“Jimmy. We’re gonna talk later about you serving them,” Blake yells.

That was something I was planning on doing once the bar cleared out. I didn’t want to think about Dolly coming in here again and not having me to watch over her. I know people in small towns tend to do what they want, but I was going to make sure Jimmy wasn’t serving her.

“I’ll give Dolly a ride home, Blake. Make sure she gets there safe,” I tell him, seeing he has his hands full already. Plus, I want to make sure she gets home. She isn’t staying here.

“Thanks, Brandon. I’d appreciate it,” Blake says to me. Dolly crosses her arms, and I wonder if she’s going to fight me on this. “You sure it’s not too far out of your way?”

“No, it’s fine. Anything to get a break from the Johnson farm. You know how June is.” I roll my eyes, and Dolly purses her lips at the mention of June. I reach out, grabbing Dolly’s arm and feeling her warm, soft skin under my fingers. I can’t help but wonder how I’m going to drive her home without touching her.





2





Dolly





“Don’t do me any favors,” I say, tugging my arm free from Brandon’s touch.

God, all I want to do is climb up his big, hard body and rub against him. I’m like a bear in heat with the way I want to cuddle and have sex with him. I stomp over to my truck and grab the handle. But suddenly Brandon’s hand comes over mine and he’s dangerously close to me again.

Looking up into his big brown eyes, I can tell he wants me. I’ve known it for a long time now. I might be young, but my mama always said I had an old soul. Boys my own age never interested me, and I always hated that. I wanted to fit in and find love, but it just never happened. The day I saw Brandon on the Johnson farm baling hay with no shirt on, I knew my body had finally found its libido.

I was sixteen, and my brother Ty needed to drop off some equipment for Brandon to borrow. I remember seeing him jump down from the back of his truck, all sweaty and tan. I’d never felt so much as a pulse between my legs before that, but the sight of Brandon that day had my heartbeat drumming out a rhythm on my clit. I had to cross my legs to find some relief, pressing the seam of my jeans tight to me. When he came to my side of the truck and took off his hat, that shaggy blond hair fell around his eyes, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

Brandon has starred in every fantasy I’ve ever had. I’ve masturbated to that man so many times, I named my vibrator after him. It’s a tiny little vibe, though, and from what I’ve seen in outline of his jeans, my baby-daddy is packing some heat.

“I’m not doing you any favors, Dolly. You’ve had some drinks and I want to make sure you get home safe.” His voice is deep, and the sun-kissed crinkles around his eyes make him look like Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall.

“You gonna come tuck me into bed, too?” I say, boldly pushing up against his body, which is so close to mine. I have had a few drinks, so the usually flirtatious manner I adopt when I’m around him is in overdrive. “You’ll have to be careful, though, because I sleep naked. Wouldn’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

I see his jaw twitch, and I give him a wicked grin. Nothing makes me happier than working him up.

“Goddamn it,” he says, wrapping his hand around my wrist and tugging me behind him to his truck.

“No need to get all grouchy. You can sleep naked, too, if it will make you feel bett—” My words are cut off, and I let out a little squeal as he grabs me by the hips and lifts me into his truck. “Thanks for the boost, Daddy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says through gritted teeth.

He tells me that every time I say it to him. I either call him Baby-daddy or just plain Daddy. It seems to get under his skin like nothing else, so of course I keep doing it. I randomly called him Baby-daddy one day when he came out to Blake’s farm to pick up a horse. He’d spent the afternoon on the ranch, so naturally I did, too. At one point I was feeding one of the lambs and he asked if he could sit with me. I joked that the lamb was our child, and for a moment we both laughed and played with the little guy pretending to be parents. It was silly, but something in my heart grew that day, and I haven’t been able to let it go since.