The bar is unusually quiet when I walk in, and I’m grateful for that.I prefer not to have an audience when I grovel, and I’m prepared to do a lot of fucking groveling.
I spot Amelia behind the counter, clipboard in hand, counting bottles for what appears to be a liquor delivery.Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing jeans that hug every curve I memorized with my hands last night.
She sees me and freezes.“Get out.”
I lift the toolbox in my hand.“I’m here to fix the bull.”
“How convenient,” she mumbles, diverting her gaze back to her clipboard.
I didn’t think she’d make this easy on me, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad.I clear my throat.
“I drove past Main Street.Didn’t see your car,” I say, hoping my words will get her to at least look in my direction.
They don’t.
“Shadow had it towed this morning,” she replies, scribbling something on her clipboard.“If you want to fix the bull, then get to work.”She shoots me a glare.“Then get out.”
I consider arguing with her for a moment but think better of it.I make my way to the mechanical bull in the corner of the bar.When it first broke, Amelia said it was the motor, but it looks to me like the control panel is busted.It’s an easy fix, and I get straight to work.
For an hour, the only sounds are the clink of bottles as Amelia inventories her stock and the occasional curse from me as I wrestle with the bull’s mechanics.
When I finally get the beast working again, I wipe my hands on a rag and approach the bar.“Should be good to go.”
She looks at me skeptically.“You fixed it?”
“I told you I’m good with my hands.I can fix just about anything.”
Apparently, everything except us.
“If you don’t believe me, you can test it out yourself.”
I don’t know why I say that.Seeing Amelia ride that bull might fucking kill me.
She rolls her eyes.“I’m working, Maddox.”
There is no good reason for me to press the issue, but I can’t seem to help myself.
“Bar’s empty.”It sounds like a dare, one I hope she’ll take.The Amelia I used to know was a big fan of them.Never backed away from a single one.
She purses her lips and sets down her clipboard, marching straight for the bull.I follow her, trying not to stare at the sway of her hips or remember how they felt under my hands.
“I don’t have medical insurance.If I break my neck, you’re paying my hospital bills.”
If she rides that bull the way she rode me last night, there ain’t a shot in hell she’ll fall off.Those hips of hers are sinfully skillful.
“Something tells me you’ll do just fine,” I mutter.
She mumbles something under her breath as she climbs onto the bull like she’s a damn professional, and an odd sense of satisfaction hits me square in the chest.
“Ready?”I ask, hand on the control.
She nods, gripping the pommel with both hands.
I start it slow, watching as she finds her rhythm, and it takes me back to last night.I’ve never been a guy with a lot of fantasies, but tonight when I lay my head on my pillow, I know I’m going to be jerking my cock while picturing her riding this fucking bull.Naked as the day she was born, her tits swaying with every buck of her hips, that tight pussy of hers rubbing up on the saddle as she chases her orgasm.
My cock twitches against the zipper of my jeans.
If this keeps up, I’m going to come in my pants like a teenager.
