Home > Still Standing (Wild West MC #1)(7)

Still Standing (Wild West MC #1)(7)
Author: Kristen Ashley

And again kept talking.

“So I did all that, and I have to tell you, I’ve thought about it, like, loads, how I put my foot wrong with Rogan. But I swear, I swear, he gave me no clue. We had a great marriage, great sex, shoo!” I threw my hand out again. “I mean, seriously, he’s a jerk of the jerkiest order, but you have to hand it to him, he has stamina if he was sleeping with all those women and still able to do the things he did to me.” I leaned in again. “And how often and with such energy.”

“Are you saying you’re not pissed at him?” Buck asked, and I tried to focus more fully on him.

“Oh no. If it wasn’t illegal and if prison didn’t scare the bejeezus out of me, I would have killed him,” I stated breezily. “I’m just saying he was great in bed.”

“So he ruined you for other men,” Buck deduced, and if I wasn’t so drunk, I would have noticed his tone was teasing, but I was drunk.

So drunk.

“Totally, and not because of the bed business,” I answered in all seriousness. “Never going to go there again. No more men, ever.”

I felt something funny and it was so funny my drunken focus became a far more focused focus and I saw Buck was again staring at me with a expression on his face I couldn’t decipher, but it made tingles slide across my skin.

“No more men, ever?” he asked quietly.

“Ever,” I answered firmly, then turned my head and sucked back more beer.

“Baby, that’s a waste,” I heard Buck say.

I dropped my beer hand and looked at him.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Because, Clara, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he answered, and I felt my eyes get big at the same time I felt my mouth drop open. “Great ass, babe, fuckin’ unbelievable legs, fantastic tits, beautiful hair, gorgeous eyes, and shit, darlin’, when you smile, fuck, your smile goes right to a man’s dick.”

I blinked again then I whispered, “I’m not gorgeous.”

His hand slid around my thighs making his arm curl around both and he leaned into me to reply, “Don’t know what you see in the mirror and it also doesn’t matter. I feel your smile in my dick means I got a dick which means I’m a man and I’m tellin’ you, Toots, top-to-toe, you’re gorgeous. You weren’t, babe, your ass woulda been thrown outta this building two seconds after you entered it. Since you are, you’re drunk, and in about five minutes, you’re gonna be in my room and I’m gonna convince you to forget about your vow of no men, ever.”

Oh wow.

“You are?” I whispered.

“Damn straight,” he answered.

“Oh my.” I was still whispering.

“You want, you can bring the bottle with you.” He tipped his head to the bottle of tequila still sitting on the pool table and kept talking. “But the only thing I’m gonna be tasting for the rest of the night is you.”

Oh.

Wow.

“Oh my,” I repeated on a breath.

“You want the bottle?” he asked.

“Buck—”

“Answer me, babe.”

“No, but—”

I didn’t finish.

He stood, yanked my beer out of my hand and set it aside with his. He grabbed my hand, pulled me off the couch and dragged me through the room to a doorway on the side wall by the bar. Through that doorway, he turned us left, we went down a short hall, then left again, and we went down a long hall where he opened the door to the second to the last room.

There, he pulled me in.

He closed the door.

I stared at the unmade, queen-sized bed.

Oh dear.

I turned to Buck.

“Um…”

I stopped speaking (not that I knew what to say) when he advanced.

I was drunk but not drunk enough to retreat toward the bed.

Instead, I shifted and moved away from it.

Buck shifted too and kept advancing.

“Um…Buck?” I called as I kept moving backward.

“Yeah, babe,” he answered as he kept moving forward.

I hit wall and was forced to stop.

Buck’s body hit mine and simply stopped.

I tipped my head back, feeling my scalp scrape the wall as I did so, and I stated, “I’m pretty…um, dedicated to that vow.”

Buck spanned my hips with his hands and pulled them into his. He dropped his head so his lips were not even an inch away, but his eyes kept hold of mine.

It was then, I smelled him.

He did not smell of cologne.

He smelled of Buck Hardy.

Dark and decadent.

Um.

I was in trouble.

“Like I said, baby, you gotta live more,” he whispered.

“But—” I started.

His head slanted, and he kissed me.

His beard felt scratchy. It also felt sexy because it came with his lips and his tongue.

And he tasted great, like beer, tequila and man.

Oh God.

My hands lifted, my fingers curled around his neck, and when his lips released mine and slid down my jaw to my ear, I felt it starting.

I had a strong libido, according to Rogan.

Rogan had loved that about me.

I thought it was Rogan.

Apparently, it was me.

Or, in this case, perhaps tequila, beer and all things Buck.

Specifically, the fact he smelled good, tasted good and was a really great kisser.

“Buck,” I whispered, and he moved his hands from my hips to glide in and cup both cheeks of my behind.

Oh God.

“Buck,” I repeated on a breath.

“Fuck, baby, you got a great ass,” he muttered against the skin under my ear.

Oh…God.

“Buck,” I said again, so low, even I could hardly hear it.

He lifted his head, but he also pressed his hips against mine. There was something lovely and hard there, and I felt my knees buckle so my fingers dug into his neck.

“I’m right here, Toots,” he replied, slanted his head again and kissed me.

He was.

He was right there.

And I was right there.

And he tasted great and he felt great and his hands at my bottom felt even better and his tongue in my mouth felt the best.

Oh God, God, God.

I couldn’t help it. I was too drunk, and he was too everything and all of it was good. I slid the fingers of one of my hands into his thick, overlong hair and the other hand moved around his shoulders to hold on. I tilted my head to the opposite side, pressed my body in and kissed him back.

That was it and what would happen next would make Rogan and all the fabulous things he could do to me be forever erased from memory.

I was all over Buck, and he was all over me.

I couldn’t get enough of him, pulling his T-shirt from his jeans, my hands sliding in, over his hot, sleek, muscled skin, my movements fevered, hungry, my mouth more so.

And Buck felt the same, I knew it because he didn’t hide it. He drank it from my mouth, he pulled it from my skin, he nipped it with his teeth.

Unbelievable.

I couldn’t even keep track of it all. I could only feel, his hands at my bottom, my sides, my breasts. His mouth on my nipple over my blouse. My fingers yanking up his tee. His arms going up, pulling the shirt off then immediately my mouth went to his chest, his nipples, my hand gliding over his hard crotch then his hand fisting in my hair and positioning my head for him to take my mouth again.

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