I was listening to this on the stereo the other day and thought to myself how hard it would be to be left time and time again. I would like to thank DanielleKitten for the use of her editing skills on such short notice.
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please don't forget to vote and comment. This is only my third submission and I would like to know how I'm doing.
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"It's time, girl!"
God I hate those words. Every time I get him back, I can tell he's just biding his time until he can go back to his one true love. Can't he see how it makes me feel? I know he has to go, he wouldn't be the man I love if he didn't. I just wish sometimes that I could be the one that he's itching to get back to.
"Kiss me goodbye, sugar!"
Kiss him goodbye? Of course I will! I always will...but oh how I wish I was kissing him hello! I walk over to him, reach up and twine my arms around his warm tan neck. I gently pull his head down while moving up onto my tippy-toes and raising my face to meet his. Our lips meet in a soft touch, heat emanates off our close bodies.
Breath quickens, hearts race, chests heave. Fingers slide up to thread through the tangle of dark curls at the nape of his neck. Mouths change angle quickly, tongues seeking succour only the other can give. We break apart.
"I'll be back soon, darlin'."
He turns to the door and opens it, picks up his worn duffel bag and strides out to his dusty pick-up. Boots clatter down the walk. I watch him open the door to the truck and throw his duffel in the passenger seat. He shuts the door and walks around to the driver's door. Opening the door, he looks up one final time and sends a wink my way along with a very wicked grin.
"Blow me a kiss, sugar!"
Leaning in the door jam, I blow him his kiss and wave my hand. He doesn't see the lone tear sliding down my cheek. He gets in and starts the truck, pulling away from the curb, away from home, away from me.
I turn and close the door. Walking around the house aimlessly, I find myself walking into the bedroom where we spent our last few hours together. Bed sheets lay in a tangle, the smell of him still lingering in the air from his recent shower. I lie down on his side of the bed and snuggle my face into his pillow taking a deep breath in, remembering our last week. God I miss him already. How can he stand this life? Going from one mistress to another? One city to another? Leaving me here, time and time again?
I get up from the bed, unable to lie there any longer without breaking down and crying myself raw. I walk out of the bedroom, back into the lounge and sit down. I pick up the remote and turn the stereo on low. Garth Brooks croons to me through the speakers. "...broncs and the blood, steers and the mud..." I turn off the stereo, too distressed to listen to Garth singing about the very thing that has taken my heart away from me. I laugh mirthlessly, Mama always told me never to fall in love with a bull rider but I knew better. I close my eyes thinking of him. Tight Wranglers, big buckles, scuffed boots and a Stetson. What more could a girl want? I chuckle wryly.
Lost in memories, I don't here the rumble of a truck pulling up out the front of the house or the jingle of keys in the lock to the front door. Suddenly large, strong hands are lifting me up from the sofa, embracing me. Arms wrapped tightly round me, never wanting to let go. Soft, hot breaths puffing into the curve of my neck, while lips whispered, "I love you, sweetheart." Music to my ears.
I look up into the eyes of my treasured cowboy, my best friend, my lover, my loving husband. "I love you too, babe" I murmur.
He smiles at me with that cheeky grin as he swings me up into his arms, striding off to our bedroom. Standing at the end of the bed, he looks down at me. "I forgot something before I left."
"What?" I ask curiously. Knowing he never forgot anything when he had a ride waiting.
"You!" he said simply before tossing me down onto the bed and following after me. "I forgot you."
Smiling brightly through the tears, I pulled him close and kissed him gently on the mouth. "You can't forget something that's in your heart" I told him, busily working his shirt out of his jeans, anxious to feel his skin under my hands. Grasping his shirt in both hands, I ruthlessly pulled it apart. A girl's got to love those western shirts with the handy little pressed stud snaps. Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, they went.
Lips met once again, tongues searching the dark recesses of each others mouth, trying to devour each other. Hands ran over denim, racing to unbuckle, unzip and undress. Quiet laughter trickled out from his mouth. "Slow down, sweet. It's not Survivor," he said. "We still have time."
Clothes went flying, boots hit the floor. Two bodies entwined, rolling over on the tangled sheets, striving for domination. He won. Pinning me to the bed with his body nestled between my thighs, he raised his upper body and looked down into my flushed face.
Panting, he slowly lowered his mouth to my nipple, carefully laving it with the flat of his tongue. He raised his head again to look at me, his half-lidded gaze slumberous. He lowered his mouth to my other breast, bathing that nipple too with the flat of his tongue. The heat of his mouth was a sharp contrast to the coolness of my bare breasts.
Chills raced down my spine, my skin raised with goose bumps. My nipples peaked, hard.
His length lay hot and hard against my cleft. Restlessly I roll my hips, anxious to feel him slide inside my yearning heat. He rubs his rigid length over my mound and I can feel the wetness of his excitement mingling with mine. Slowly he slides into me. I raise my legs to wrap around his waist, running my feet up and down his muscular thighs and calves. He grips the cheeks of my arse, controlling the movement of our bodies.
"Slow and steady wins the race, sugar!" he grates out as I attempt to quicken his strokes. He's driving me out of my mind with the careful, controlled motion. All the way in, hold it and undulate hips. Slowly out until the head of him almost falls away from me. In again. Out again. Until, Halleluiah, he picks up speed and commences to pound himself into me.
I raise my mouth to his and kiss him deeply, tongues once again duelling. Nostrils flaring from the effort of sucking in as much air as possible. Soft grunts and moans indicate that our race is nearing its zenith. My hands run up and down his spine, losing traction from the sweat our exertion has created.
Suddenly I find myself being rolled from underneath to straddling his hips without losing our connection.
"Ride me, darlin'," he growls, his voice raspy from the tension of holding back. "Ride me, cowgirl!"
So I did. I rode my cowboy with all the determination he shows when out in the ring. I planted my feet either side of his lean hips and placed my forearms on his wide, furry chest, leaning my breasts down for the nipples to brush him with every stroke, a look of studied concentration upon my face.
A strangled sound rose from his throat, while my own voice cried out a victorious shout. I could feel the pulsing heat of him erupting inside me, along with my own. I continued to ride him until we both could not take it anymore. The friction of the strokes feels like electrical currents running through our joined bodies.
Our breathing quieting, I lie still upon him. His arms wrapping round me in a loose embrace. He rubs his lips back and forth over the top of my head, leaving little kisses in my hair.
"Come with me, girl."
"I couldn't," I say thoughtfully.
"Yes, you can. I'll only be gone for a week this time. It'll be like a holiday."
I look up, cross my arms on his chest and prop my chin on my hands. He has tucked an arm under his head and is watching my face, studying my reaction to his words.
"Are you sure you want me around?" I ask a bit resentfully as he has never seemed to worry about leaving me behind before.
"Darlin' I always want you around," he insists. "I used to think if you weren't there, you wouldn't distract me from my rides. Lately though, I find myself wishing you were there and that's more of a distraction. This way, I know you're waiting for me after the ride and not just at home."
The tears I had started to shed earlier came back in force to my eyes. "I thought you didn't want to share that part of yourself with me," I sniffled. "I'd love to come with you." I smile through my tears.
His sunny smile lit up the bedroom. Smacking me smartly on the rump, he shifted out from under me and saunters off to the shower.
"It's time, girl!"
Did I say I hate those words? Suddenly they didn't sound so bad. In fact, I think I could start to like those three words.
Jumping out of bed, I raced to join my cowboy in the shower singing softly to myself, "...It's the broncs and the blood. It's the steers and the mud. And they call the thing rodeo!"
**Lyrics to "Rodeo" by Garth Brooks.