Lucy leans back, moving in opposition to the bull, and the crowd cheers, hooting and hollering, encouraging her to hang on. She tightens her grip on the strap as the bull rears back—forcing her to lean forward—before it suddenly spins clockwise and bucks again.
Lucy clenches her thighs, right hand whipping wildly through the air as her dark curls obscure her face.
I can’t tear my eyes away.
She looks too goddamned sexy, leaning and swaying, her hips rolling every time the bull reverses direction. Her movements are entirely fluid, as if her bones have gone liquid beneath those straining muscles.
The overhead clock is a blur, the seconds ticking by as she rides that bull like a champ. The crowd is eating it up, which can only mean she’s doing well.
No surprise there. Lucy is tenacious. When she puts her mind to something, she usually makes it happen.
The beast bucks, its hind quarters punching up without warning. Lucy leans back so far it looks like she’s laying down on the bull for a nap.
She’s killing it.
I probably should’ve asked if she’s ever ridden a mechanical bull before I shot off my mouth, betting I could double her time.
The bull whips around again and bucks, its horns pointed skyward. She leans forward, but it’s too late.
Lucy flies ass-over-elbow off the back of the bull.
My fucking heart stops and my lungs contract as she lays there in the inflatable ring, not moving.
For an instant, everything is silent—there’s no music, no raucous cheering—but then Lucy sits up, and everything returns to normal as she checks her time on the clock and grins.
Eight seconds.
Eight fucking seconds.
So much for doubling her time. It’ll be virtually impossible after that stellar performance.
I’ll be lucky if I can even last eight seconds.
Which is a phrase I never thought I’d say.
Lucy bounces across the inflatable ring and high-fives the ride operator on her way out.
Then she turns to me and pops her hip out. “Still think you can do better?”
“Don’t count me out just yet. It’s like the song says, it ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
She snorts and squeezes past me, her ass brushing against my cock.
“For the record, sweetheart.” I lean down and whisper in her ear so no one else can hear. “That was the hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Win or lose, I just want you to ride my cock the same way you rode that bull.”
She grins, and when she replies, her breath is hot against my cheek. “I do believe that can be arranged. Assuming Nitro doesn’t break anything vital.”
Her gaze lowers to my cock, and her dark eyes dance with silent laughter.
She’s got a point. This will be painful enough without adding an erection to the mix.
“The bull’s name is Nitro?”
Christ. It even sounds painful.
“Cute, right?” She wiggles her brows and gives me a playful slap on the ass as I step into the ring.
The crowd hoots and cheers. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m pretty sure they were more enthusiastic about Lucy’s ride.
