I paid you for,
Twyla. What you were willing to do for Boss Hog’s money too.
There’s no difference. Now, take your damned top off!” Her eyes
filled, and Ryan fought the sickness in his gut. She spun around
giving him a nice view of her round ass, while she fought to get
the top over her head. She finally got it and tossed it to the
side.
“ I can’t dance without music,” she
said, and he heard the wobble in her voice.
Twyla Taylor was one of the strongest women he
knew. He had never seen her cry before, and didn’t want to see it
now. It would kill him to be the cause of it. Ryan didn’t want to
break her, he just wanted to teach her a lesson.
“ Suck it up buttercup. This is
what you choose to do for money. I paid you, now act like a
professional and shake your ass for me,” he said coldly as he got
up from the sofa. He picked up the remote for the television. He
turned it on and scrolled down until he found the country music
channel, then tossed it back on the table and sat back
down.
And wasn’t it just appropriate that Luke
Bryan’s Country Girl was playing?
Ryan pushed the button on the remote to turn
up the volume, so he didn’t have to hear her sniffling. He had to
get through this, and he wouldn’t be able to if he heard her
crying.
“ Nice ass. Now turn around and
show me your tits,” Ryan ordered, flinching at using that term with
a woman he used to have the ultimate respect for. Never in his life
had he ever said that to a woman, especially in that way. But Twyla
needed to know this is what she could expect from paying customers
if she didn’t get the hell away from here. Ryan was determined to
get her out of here. If this was the only way he could make that
happen, then he would do it. “Do it, Twyla,” he growled then held
up the cell phone. “Or if you want to back out I have Grandma
Sibley on speed dial.”
She spun around to face him, but her hands
covered her breasts. Her eyes shot icy blue daggers at him, as her
hips found stilted time with the music. She wasn’t dancing, she was
swaying, and that just wasn’t enough. The need to see her pert
little breasts, the beautiful mounds he’d fantasized about seeing
for ten years, hit him in the center of the chest. This would
probably be his only chance. “Move your goddamn hands, Twyla. I
said I want to see your tits!” he shouted angrily, one hand
squeezing his cell phone tighter, while the other stroked his
cock.
Twyla whimpered, her hands fluttered down to
her sides, and she closed her eyes. His eyes locked on her pink
areolas in the center of perfect, handful-sized mounds. Perfect
mouthful-sized mounds he corrected, as his mouth watered for a
taste of her. His tongue tingled to feel the raspy roughness of the
rigid berry-colored buttons at the center. She finally danced now,
popping her hips, and her breasts bounced as she danced. Ryan’s
heart was pounding in his chest and he fought for breath. His
fucking palms burned to test the weight of those peaks, to tease
her nipples until she screamed. God, he wanted to hear her scream
his name. To make her come for him, so he could see her
face.
That would be the ultimate turn-on, his
ultimate satisfaction, but Ryan knew it wasn’t happening. This was
a lesson, not a prelude to sex, he reminded himself. He had no
plans to satisfy the desire clawing at his insides. But damn if
that wasn’t just what he wanted to do, Zack and the Taylor family
be damned. The orgasm building inside his body was like a lava flow
from a dormant volcano that was long overdue due to erupt. The
ultimate satisfaction would be burying himself in her tight body
and finally knowing how damned sweet she was as he found his
release.
Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy followed the
previous song, Ryan’s balls tightened and he bit back a groan. He
wondered if there was some cosmic DJ picking the music for that
station, because that’s exactly what he wanted this long, tall
cowgirl to do to him right then.
Twyla. What you were willing to do for Boss Hog’s money too.
There’s no difference. Now, take your damned top off!” Her eyes
filled, and Ryan fought the sickness in his gut. She spun around
giving him a nice view of her round ass, while she fought to get
the top over her head. She finally got it and tossed it to the
side.
“ I can’t dance without music,” she
said, and he heard the wobble in her voice.
Twyla Taylor was one of the strongest women he
knew. He had never seen her cry before, and didn’t want to see it
now. It would kill him to be the cause of it. Ryan didn’t want to
break her, he just wanted to teach her a lesson.
“ Suck it up buttercup. This is
what you choose to do for money. I paid you, now act like a
professional and shake your ass for me,” he said coldly as he got
up from the sofa. He picked up the remote for the television. He
turned it on and scrolled down until he found the country music
channel, then tossed it back on the table and sat back
down.
And wasn’t it just appropriate that Luke
Bryan’s Country Girl was playing?
Ryan pushed the button on the remote to turn
up the volume, so he didn’t have to hear her sniffling. He had to
get through this, and he wouldn’t be able to if he heard her
crying.
“ Nice ass. Now turn around and
show me your tits,” Ryan ordered, flinching at using that term with
a woman he used to have the ultimate respect for. Never in his life
had he ever said that to a woman, especially in that way. But Twyla
needed to know this is what she could expect from paying customers
if she didn’t get the hell away from here. Ryan was determined to
get her out of here. If this was the only way he could make that
happen, then he would do it. “Do it, Twyla,” he growled then held
up the cell phone. “Or if you want to back out I have Grandma
Sibley on speed dial.”
She spun around to face him, but her hands
covered her breasts. Her eyes shot icy blue daggers at him, as her
hips found stilted time with the music. She wasn’t dancing, she was
swaying, and that just wasn’t enough. The need to see her pert
little breasts, the beautiful mounds he’d fantasized about seeing
for ten years, hit him in the center of the chest. This would
probably be his only chance. “Move your goddamn hands, Twyla. I
said I want to see your tits!” he shouted angrily, one hand
squeezing his cell phone tighter, while the other stroked his
cock.
Twyla whimpered, her hands fluttered down to
her sides, and she closed her eyes. His eyes locked on her pink
areolas in the center of perfect, handful-sized mounds. Perfect
mouthful-sized mounds he corrected, as his mouth watered for a
taste of her. His tongue tingled to feel the raspy roughness of the
rigid berry-colored buttons at the center. She finally danced now,
popping her hips, and her breasts bounced as she danced. Ryan’s
heart was pounding in his chest and he fought for breath. His
fucking palms burned to test the weight of those peaks, to tease
her nipples until she screamed. God, he wanted to hear her scream
his name. To make her come for him, so he could see her
face.
That would be the ultimate turn-on, his
ultimate satisfaction, but Ryan knew it wasn’t happening. This was
a lesson, not a prelude to sex, he reminded himself. He had no
plans to satisfy the desire clawing at his insides. But damn if
that wasn’t just what he wanted to do, Zack and the Taylor family
be damned. The orgasm building inside his body was like a lava flow
from a dormant volcano that was long overdue due to erupt. The
ultimate satisfaction would be burying himself in her tight body
and finally knowing how damned sweet she was as he found his
release.
Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy followed the
previous song, Ryan’s balls tightened and he bit back a groan. He
wondered if there was some cosmic DJ picking the music for that
station, because that’s exactly what he wanted this long, tall
cowgirl to do to him right then.
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