Chapter One
Camden
Tonight, I’ll finally take home the golden bull testicles. It’s an ugly ass prize offered at the Charging Bull, a hole-in-the-wall bar in Asheville. My friends and I have been coming here for years and every time, we try to win the coveted testicles by staying on the mechanical bull the longest.
The record of thirty-three seconds was set by some burly patron about twenty years ago. But things are going to be different this time around. For starters, I’m stone-cold sober which definitely gives me an advantage. Only took me a few bruised ribs to learn that one.
It’s too bad my fellow firefighters aren’t here to witness this, but the place records every ride and posts the funniest falls to social media. I have no doubt there will be a video of me finally attaining my trophy.
I survey the crowd carefully, but it doesn’t look like any of the other patrons are serious contenders which only leaves me. I take a swig of my bottled water and turn just in time for something solid to hit me square in the chest.
In the time it takes me to realize a woman has bumped into me, I reach out and grip onto denim-clad hips that fit perfectly into my big hands. The thought has all of my blood heading south.
She exhales, and she smells like those strawberry and cream shakes I always get down at Ernie’s Diner. My mouth waters and it has nothing to do with craving my favorite after-work treat.
“I peed on your uniform,” she blushes and leans back to look up into my face. I keep my hands firmly anchored around these hips that are straight out of my dreams. I’m not about to let this little beauty go. She’s mine. “I mean, my beer. I spilled it. On you. Sorry.”
“No problem, darling,” I reassure her. I should have taken it off earlier. I wasn’t planning on wearing my Courage County Fire & Rescue uniform while riding the mechanical bull anyway. No sense in getting my ass on toilet cleaning duty for the next three months when my boss sees me in that video.
“I’ll pay cleaning costs.” She adjusts her black, oversized glasses on her face. They don’t do anything to hide those beautiful sea-green eyes.
Fuck me, she’s adorable. The thought of taking her home runs through my mind. I could spend hours exploring these tight curves and giving her endless pleasure. For the first time tonight, I’m glad my uniformed family isn’t here. I’d catch nine-kinds of hell from them for going this crazy over a woman I just met.
“You want to make it up to me?” I jerk my head toward the mechanical bull. “Go on a ride with me.”
The prize has changed. It’s no longer some ugly trophy and bragging rights. Nah, it’s ten seconds with this sweet angel bumping up against me in a tight saddle. We’ll probably both get bucked off, but I don’t particularly care in this moment.
She eyes the bull, something sparking in her gaze. She’s got an adventurous spirit, an innocent girl longing to let her hair down and explore the world. Years of working as a first responder have taught me how to quickly read people.
She gives me an enthusiastic nod.
I let go of her long enough to take the beer from her hand and put it on the bar before stripping out of my jacket. Then I thread our fingers together. Her soft hand against mine feels perfect, like I’ve been waiting my whole life to find her. It’s a ridiculous thought that makes no sense. Yet I can’t deny the rightness of it.
She practically skips toward the bull, dragging me along behind her and what a view. Her hips sway with every movement and my mouth waters as I watch her ass cheeks nearly bounce out from under those teeny tiny cut-offs. God bless Daisy Duke.
My girl stops to peel off her cowboy boots and I stand behind her. Partially because I love the view but also because if another cowboy catches a peek of what belongs to me, then I’m going to gouge out some eyes before the night is over.
She straightens, drops her glasses into her boots, and steps into the ring. The floor is padded all around us, like a bouncy castle for kids.
She cocks her head and studies the creature. It’s designed to mimic the look and feel of a real bull. The only difference between this and the real thing is the saddle attached to the mechanical animal.
“Teach me how to ride.” It’s not a curious question. It’s a command, one issued by the woman who in the space of the last two minutes somehow became my queen.
I lean close, letting my lips drift across her earlobe before I whisper, “I’ll do so much more than that, darlin’.”
First, I’ll teach her how to ride this bull then later, I’ll teach her how to ride my cock. Show her how to take it deep until we’re both sweaty and panting and aching for a release.
She shivers at my words. Her eyes are dilated, and her cheeks are flushed. Her pink tongue darts out to wet her lips and yeah, I’m going to spend the night giving this little beauty lessons in corruption. Gonna make it so damn good for her. For me. For both of us.
“Grab the rope,” I instruct.
She grabs it with her dominant hand, the one she was using to carry her beer earlier.
“No, your other hand. The thing about bull riding is you want to leave your dominant hand available for balance,” I explain, raising my voice to be heard over the din of the bar. No one is paying much attention to us other than the bull operator and he’s a little too interested in my girl’s tits. I shoot him a glare before I turn my attention back to her. “An underhanded grip will give you the most control.”
She frowns, the skin between her eyebrows wrinkling. I have an overwhelming urge to press my lips to it and smooth that skin. She should never have a reason to frown. “You’ve done this a lot?”
“For a while, yeah. See that?” I point to the ugly ass trophy on the wall across from her. It’s lit up by a bright spotlight, proudly shown off. “I’ve been trying to win the golden testicles for years now.”
She makes a snort laugh that quickly has her clapping a hand over her mouth. Dammit, I’m pretty sure I’m half in love with her already. “That’s what we’re riding for?” Her words are muffled behind her hand.
“Sure,” I answer, casually. I’m not about to admit that I already know one of us alone has better odds of winning than both of us together. Call me a bastard but I want this curvy woman all pressed up against me. “You’re up first. Swing your leg over.”
She does as I instruct, and I tap her knee. “Don’t put your weight on your tailbone. Squeeze the bull with your thighs. Just like a good girl.”
She inhales sharply and her ponytail swishes as she looks down at me. I love standing here while she’s sitting just a little taller than me. If this weren’t a public place filled with other people, I’d lean forward and drag those cute shorts down, let her ride my tongue before she rides this bull.
“Why?” Her tone is filled with a challenge when she speaks. My girl is a fighter, someone who doesn’t easily accept authority. It’s a nugget I file away to remember.
I chuckle. “You’ll have a better grip…and you’re less likely to bruise anything.”
With the night I have planned for us, I want her sore. But for a very different reason than a mechanical bull. Hell, just seeing it between her thighs where I want to be is killing me.
“Anything else, cowboy?”
“Yeah, make room for me,” I mutter before I swing up behind her in one smooth move. It’s a tight fit, a perfect fit. Her soft curves are pressed up against my dick and fuck, this is heaven. I haven’t even gotten her naked yet.
She jerks when she feels the other Cam poking her in the ass but then she settles against me. Her shoulders relax and she’s pressing into me, trying to get even closer as if that were possible.
“Wait, what do you hold onto?” She asks as I give the operator a nod and gesture for him to keep it on a low setting. We won’t win the prize on the low setting but anything to prolong this sweet torture.
I slide my hands around these hips again and tuck my chin against her shoulder as the first gentle jolt bumps us. “You.”
She makes it twelve seconds before she loses her balance and together, we’re bouncing onto the soft floor. She lets loose with another snort laugh before she props herself up on her elbow and shoots me a grin, showing off her snaggletooth. “Again!”
“Again?” I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much with any woman. Never met someone as competitive as I am either. It’s an arousing combination.
She brushes back the strands of her blonde hair that have fallen loose from her ponytail. “Let’s win some bull nuts!”