Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)




“Don’t squeeze so hard unless you’re tryin’ to keep me from coming,” he shot back.


“I want you to come. I want to feel those pulses that make you groan and your body shake.”


“Won’t be long. You rev me up in record time, hot lips.”


The husky voice wound around her body like a velvet caress. “Give it to me, Tell.”


He let his head fall forward. His grip on her hips increased but he didn’t buck his hips into her hand. He was completely passive, letting her control his pleasure. Trusting her.


She increased her rhythm. As soon as she heard a catch in his breath, she smashed her mouth to his. Swallowing his groan of satisfaction. Kissing him crazily as he spilled warm and wet over her fingers.


The pulses in his shaft stopped and he released one last shudder. Several tender kisses later, Tell leaned back to gaze into her eyes. Everything she’d ever wanted was right there.


Her heart seized up. How could she ever leave him?


“Georgia, what’s wrong?”


She carefully removed her hand. “Nothing. You’ll have to deal with fastening your jeans. My hand is a little sticky.”


His laughter morphed into a masculine growl when she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked. One by one.


Then he kissed her. His way. With such sweet deliberation tears threatened, and when he finally released her mouth, she was shaking.


“I don’t know what’s put that sadness in your eyes, sweetness. But you can talk to me about anything.”


Tell’s tender loving care the day he’d tracked her down at the cemetery had rocked her to her very foundation. He hadn’t offered platitudes or tried to cajole her out of a mood. He’d just seen to her, accepting her pockets of sadness, offering her his comfort until she took it.


Just say it, Georgia. Flat out. I love you, Tell McKay.


The announcer’s booming voice came over the loudspeaker, shattering their moment.


And when she retreated, Tell let her.


The sun beat down. Dust clogged his nostrils. Last he’d heard, the temperature had hit the one hundred degree mark. Usually the dirt in the rodeo arena registered ten degrees hotter, so it was a damn oven. Everyone suffered when it was this hot. The animals, the competitors, the crowd. His shirt was soaked clear through. Even his jeans were moist from sweat streaming from every pore on his body in an attempt to cool off. He mopped his face with a towel every chance he got, but it didn’t help much.


Tell’s day had started out with a pissing contest with the stock contractor, because he’d disqualified one horse and two bulls due to heat exhaustion. The contractor demanded the second judge reassess the livestock, but Tell hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the other judge yet.


He hadn’t seen Georgia either. The last couple days had been pretty hectic, but he felt as if she was hiding something from him. Probably just paranoia on his part, given both their tendencies to avoid conflict. They were still taking baby steps with their relationship. But if he had his way, they’d take that giant leap and move in together.


He paced behind the chutes, anxious for things to get started. Then he saw Deck. Since the man was headed straight for him, Tell couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen him.


You really going to run and hide from this pompous prick like you did in high school?


No. Hell no.


He stood his ground, arms folded on his chest. “Veldekamp.”


”McKay.”


“Surprised to see you back here behind the chutes at this rodeo.”


“Why?”


Tell shrugged. “Thought it’d be a bad memory for you, considering how publicly you crashed and burned on your home turf that summer after graduation. Gotta be a kick in the balls that your rodeo career never reached the epic proportion you bragged it would.”


“How’d you…” He muttered, “From Georgia.”


“No. It was all around town. Funny, ain’t it, how happy some folks are to see others fail?”


“I didn’t fail, I got injured. Big difference.”


“Whatever.”


“At least I tried. Unlike some people, I don’t got nothin’ to prove. I was a state champion. You know what they say. Them that can, do; them that can’t are bitter pricks about others’ success.”


Such bullshit. But it was hitting the mark.


“Besides, I’m not here as a spectator,” Deck said. He looked at Tell’s vest. Then in his eyes. His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Guess Georgia forgot to mention that I’m the second judge today.”


Tell felt every muscle in his body seize up.


Was Deck f*cking serious? He had to work with this a*shole? Tell fumed silently, knowing Georgia had made herself scarce today because she hadn’t wanted to give him the news.


What else was she hiding from him?


Doesn’t matter. Suck it up and do your job.


At least Tell was the senior judge. He gave Deck a once-over. “You’re late. Get your vest on, and then do a quick stock check. Report back here immediately.”


“You’re getting off on bossing me around, ain’t ya?” Deck said.


He offered him a shit-eating grin. “Like you wouldn’t f*ckin’ believe. And it’s a damn cryin’ shame they took away my bullwhip.”


Tell focused on his job and making sure Deck did his part. It surprised him how close their scores were on the rough stock events. It didn’t surprise him that neither of them could contain their mutual hostility when they had to confer.


After the bull riding ended, the prizes were awarded. The crowd was huge this year. How much of that was due to Georgia’s PR efforts? He hung around watching the contestants and the stock contractor loading up. Probably half his family was in the stands, but he didn’t want to deal with them or mingle with his friends. He wasn’t the brooding type very often and he tended to lie low when that personality tic appeared. He didn’t want to do much of anything except talk to Georgia and get to the bottom of why she was acting so distant.


He headed toward committee headquarters.


Deck waylaid him outside the loading chutes. “Where’s Georgia?”


“What do you need from her?”


“Not your concern.” Deck crossed his arms over his chest. “Make you feel like a big man? Getting named most changed at the reunion and acting all hot shit here at the rodeo?”


Tell didn’t want to do this, but Deck had been pushing his buttons for years and he knew this was about to get ugly.


“I’d say you becoming a judge was all about reliving your glory days, but you never had any, did you? All the glory went to your cousin Chase.”


“Does it make you feel like big man again, talkin’ shit to me like you did a decade ago?” Tell leaned in. “Grow the f*ck up, Deck. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”


Deck’s mouth flattened. “No more than you are, trailing after Georgia like a lovesick p-ssy.”


Feet scuffled in the dirt around them as people gave them a wide berth.


“What’s going on here?”


Neither Tell nor Deck took his eyes off his opponent to acknowledge Georgia.


About damn time she showed up. When Tell saw her move into his line of vision, he said, “Georgia. Why don’t you head on out to the rodeo grounds. This doesn’t concern you.”


“Or so McKay wants you to think. But it’s always been about you,” Deck said with a sneer.


Tell’s head said don’t take the bait, but his mouth had already engaged. “Is your dick attitude because I have her now?”


“Do you have her? For how long?”


Saying forever seemed cheesy, but he wanted Deck to know what’d grown between him and Georgia this summer was the real deal. So he said, “For keeps.”


Deck broke eye contact and looked at Georgia. “He doesn’t know, does he?”


“Hey, talk to me, a*shole, not her. Know what?”


Deck released a sharp bark of laughter. “The joke is on you, McKay. Georgia is leaving at the end of the summer, as soon as rodeo season slows down. She never intended to stay in Wyoming permanently.”


No. That couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t do that—flat-out lie to him. Tell spun around and faced her, his eyes searching hers as he bridged the short distance between them. So when Tell saw that look on Georgia’s face he hadn’t been able to place before, he finally recognized it: guilt. He wished the hot dirt would just swallow him up right now.


You’ve been played for the fool again. When will you ever learn?


Automatically he started backing up, away from her, tempted to turn tail and run.


But she kept up with him, step for step. “Wait.”


“Why didn’t you tell me?”


“I was scared to.”


“But you could tell your ex-husband?”


“I didn’t tell him. My dad must have. No one was supposed to know.”


“Well, that makes it so much better.” He lowered his voice so only she heard him. “Do you remember when you asked me if I was playin’ a game? Is that what you’ve been doin’ this whole time? Stringing me along so you could watch me unravel when you cut ties here for good?”


“No. God no.”


“Do you feel anything for me, Georgia?”


“Yes.”


He could work with that. “Then can you really turn your back on this? On us? Return to Dallas and pretend this never happened?”


Her gaze shifted to the side, to Deck, and she sighed. “I only came to Sundance because I didn’t have a choice.”


A swift kick in the balls couldn’t have hurt worse.


If he stood there another second, he’d probably break down. Beg her not to go.


In front of Deck Veldekamp.


That would only be slightly less humiliating than the fact he’d fallen in love, for real, with a woman he still couldn’t have. His heartbeat slowed, becoming a dull thud in his ears as he turned from her and started to walk away.

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