riders just want to blow off some steam when they don’t do well. I can leave you…”
Marco turned and crowded her into the wall next to her. Now his breathing was short for an entirely different reason. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to fuck you.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “Like you said, different riders like different things after they have a tough competition. I like having sex.” Marco sent her his best smoldering look and she bit her lip, her knees starting to buckle until he clamped his free hand around her waist.
Natalie glanced around. “We’re creating a spectacle.”
“I don’t care.” He took a deep breath and began to lower his head.
She pushed him away. “I do. I need these guys to talk to me, to treat me as if I’m their equal, not like someone’s Gal Friday.”
“Gal what?”
Natalie laughed then and Marco was pretty sure it was at him, not with him. “Never mind. Anyway, I don’t want people thinking I’m just some blonde buckle bunny you’re slumming with while you’re on the tour. I want them to see me as a serious athlete.”
Marco heard her use “buckle bunny” in reference to herself and drew up to his full height, which was six inches taller than Natalie, and looked at her stormy eyes. Man, that look did nothing to help his straining, throbbing cock. “You are not a buckle bunny.”
“I know that and you know that,” Natalie answered, rolling her eyes. “But they,” she indicated the arena with a broad sweep of her arm, “don’t.”
“If I hear anyone say something such as that about you I will be sure they regret it, cara .”
Natalie’s eyes widened briefly. Good. Apparently she’d understood the deadly tone of his voice. No one called his woman names without hearing about it from him later. Italian men were protective, as well as possessive, of their women, and Marco was no different. He doubted she would appreciate any show of that on his part, though, so he had been trying to play it cool. No more.
“I don’t want you to get into a fight over me.”
“I won’t unless I have to,” Marco promised. “Why don’t you wait here for me and I’ll be back out in a few minutes? We don’t have to hang around if I’m not even going to place.”
“All right.”
Marco smiled. “And don’t let any strange men call you names or they’ll answer to me.”
Natalie snorted. “Right. Now go.”
Marco gathered his things together and rushed back out to meet Natalie. Before leaving the riders’ area he’d conferred with Paolo about what time they should leave for the next event, and his brother had given him an earful about deserting him to spend time with Natalie, but Marco just grinned and advised Paolo to find his own distraction. They’d both heard about a “floor party” at the hotel they were staying at. Hotels tended to put the bull riders together because they kept odd hours and made noise, and usually at these floor parties the beer and whiskey flowed freely, the music played loudly and the sex was wild and wanton. Not Marco’s scene, but Paolo was younger.
When he returned to Natalie’s side he ushered her out of the arena and to a waiting cab. Back at the hotel, he took a quick shower as they waited for the room service Marco had suggested they order. He wanted inside his woman and wasn’t about to sit through a seemingly endless meal in a restaurant. Hell, if he thought she’d agree to it he would’ve suggested they shower together, but she’d plopped down on the couch and turned on the television, leaving him to trudge into the bathroom alone, hoping his dick wouldn’t explode before he could be with Natalie.
By the time he’d showered and dressed in boxers, Natalie was going to the door. Marco signed for the food and they sat down to eat. He was thankful neither of them was particularly hungry, so they’d ordered a cheese plate and stuffed mushrooms—both things that were easy to eat quickly.
As Natalie popped the last
Marco turned and crowded her into the wall next to her. Now his breathing was short for an entirely different reason. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to fuck you.”
“Huh?”
He shrugged. “Like you said, different riders like different things after they have a tough competition. I like having sex.” Marco sent her his best smoldering look and she bit her lip, her knees starting to buckle until he clamped his free hand around her waist.
Natalie glanced around. “We’re creating a spectacle.”
“I don’t care.” He took a deep breath and began to lower his head.
She pushed him away. “I do. I need these guys to talk to me, to treat me as if I’m their equal, not like someone’s Gal Friday.”
“Gal what?”
Natalie laughed then and Marco was pretty sure it was at him, not with him. “Never mind. Anyway, I don’t want people thinking I’m just some blonde buckle bunny you’re slumming with while you’re on the tour. I want them to see me as a serious athlete.”
Marco heard her use “buckle bunny” in reference to herself and drew up to his full height, which was six inches taller than Natalie, and looked at her stormy eyes. Man, that look did nothing to help his straining, throbbing cock. “You are not a buckle bunny.”
“I know that and you know that,” Natalie answered, rolling her eyes. “But they,” she indicated the arena with a broad sweep of her arm, “don’t.”
“If I hear anyone say something such as that about you I will be sure they regret it, cara .”
Natalie’s eyes widened briefly. Good. Apparently she’d understood the deadly tone of his voice. No one called his woman names without hearing about it from him later. Italian men were protective, as well as possessive, of their women, and Marco was no different. He doubted she would appreciate any show of that on his part, though, so he had been trying to play it cool. No more.
“I don’t want you to get into a fight over me.”
“I won’t unless I have to,” Marco promised. “Why don’t you wait here for me and I’ll be back out in a few minutes? We don’t have to hang around if I’m not even going to place.”
“All right.”
Marco smiled. “And don’t let any strange men call you names or they’ll answer to me.”
Natalie snorted. “Right. Now go.”
Marco gathered his things together and rushed back out to meet Natalie. Before leaving the riders’ area he’d conferred with Paolo about what time they should leave for the next event, and his brother had given him an earful about deserting him to spend time with Natalie, but Marco just grinned and advised Paolo to find his own distraction. They’d both heard about a “floor party” at the hotel they were staying at. Hotels tended to put the bull riders together because they kept odd hours and made noise, and usually at these floor parties the beer and whiskey flowed freely, the music played loudly and the sex was wild and wanton. Not Marco’s scene, but Paolo was younger.
When he returned to Natalie’s side he ushered her out of the arena and to a waiting cab. Back at the hotel, he took a quick shower as they waited for the room service Marco had suggested they order. He wanted inside his woman and wasn’t about to sit through a seemingly endless meal in a restaurant. Hell, if he thought she’d agree to it he would’ve suggested they shower together, but she’d plopped down on the couch and turned on the television, leaving him to trudge into the bathroom alone, hoping his dick wouldn’t explode before he could be with Natalie.
By the time he’d showered and dressed in boxers, Natalie was going to the door. Marco signed for the food and they sat down to eat. He was thankful neither of them was particularly hungry, so they’d ordered a cheese plate and stuffed mushrooms—both things that were easy to eat quickly.
As Natalie popped the last
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