Eve Langlais - Apocalypse Cowboy

Spreading a blanket, he sat down cross-legged with the poles and threaded them back together, clipping bobbers, hook, and bait on their ends. Hannah wandered from the water and sat beside him.

“Where’s the worms?” she asked, lifting one of the baited hooks and wrinkling her nose at the hairball on the end.

“This is not the Stone Age, woman. Real fishermen use lures. That furry one you’re looking at is a Murdish minnow streamer.”

“Looks like something I pulled out of my hairbrush.”

“Yeah, well, for the bass we want to catch it will hopefully look like lunch. If those don’t work though I do have some plastic worms as backup. Now here, this is yours.” He handed her one of the poles, and she stood up with it, the hook swinging.

“Whoa! Watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

Her cheeks blushed a becoming pink, and she held the rod away from him while he stood too. Gesturing for her to follow, he went down to the water’s edge.

“Now watch what I do.” He instructed, exaggerating the movements required to cast the line. With the ease of years of experience, his lure flew across the water, landing with a little splash, the current pulling the line taut.

Hannah adopted his stance and flicked her rod. Nothing happened, and she scowled at him and her fishing pole. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Remember to click that button just as you fling it forward.”

She pulled back again and whipped the rod forward. The hook and lure ejected a few feet and stopped dead.

Brody held in a laugh as she cursed. “Stupid thing is broken.”

Wedging his pole into the soft ground and bracing it with rocks, he went over to give her a hand.

“Let me show you how it’s done.” He wrapped his arms around her, placing his hands over hers. Her lush bottom tucked into his groin, making him forget for a moment what he meant to teach her. But he had a hard-on that knew exactly what it wanted to do, and apparently she felt it nudging for she turned her face toward him with a gasp.

Hannah’s frustration with the whole fishing thing faded as her body interested itself in the pole poking against her backside. Even through her thick cotton pants, she could feel his erection, and it made her wet in response. A part of her knew she should move, but another part-the one that had spent so many nights aching for this-wouldn’t let her. She barely heard him as he told and showed her how to cast the fishing line.

Her body clamored for her to turn in his arms and kiss him. She knew he wouldn’t turn her away. But her practical side, the one that had helped her get through his leaving her, prevailed-barely.

Moving away from his disturbing presence, she took a breath to try and clear her head, even if it did nothing to cool her crotch. “Okay, I think I get it. Let me move downstream a bit and try again.”

Unable to face him ‘til her hormones cooled, she walked away, as if distance would aid in what ailed her. Finding herself a new spot, she flailed and cranked her fishing pole ‘til she managed to cast the lure a few feet from her into the water.

“I did it,” she crowed, looking over at him triumphantly.

“Good job. Now try catching one of these.” He flashed white teeth at her as he held up a plump fish.

Show off. Her competitive side emerging, Hannah watched him unobtrusively and mimed his actions. It wasn’t until he’d caught his third fish around mid-morning that she felt a tug. She reeled her line in a bit, wondering if she’d imagined it, but a stronger pull finally signaled something had taken the bait.

Reeling faster, the rod pulled in her hands as the fish fought her. Strong arms wrapped around hers, helping her hold the pole steady, and Brody’s encouraging words came to her ear.

“That’s it, kitten. Don’t let him win. You’ve caught a strong one. Come on, baby, reel it in.”

Excitement coursed through her as she fought against this evenings dinner, ‘til finally, with a pull up on her pole, her scaled foe exited the water.

She turned her face, her lips a hairsbreadth away from Brody’s, and her eyes met his. “I did it,” she exclaimed.

“Yes, you did,” he murmured before he touched his mouth to hers. Hannah’s lips parted, responding cautiously to his embrace. His tongue licked her lower lip before he captured it and sucked it, a move that had her knees trembling. A jerk on the pole in her hand made her pull away, but she couldn’t find the breath to castigate him for the stolen kiss, not when she wanted to chuck the fishing pole and throw herself in his arms.

As he showed her how to unhook her catch, she watched him and mused. Who am I kidding? I want him-bad. Why am I denying myself this pleasure? Sure, he might leave tomorrow or next week, but really, what do I have left to lose. He could be my only chance for happiness. Or a baby.

The thought of a child, his child, made her chest go tight. If she got pregnant and had a baby, then even if he left, she wouldn’t be alone.

But in order to get a bun in the oven, she’d need to have sex with him. She felt like rolling her eyes-as if sex with him would be a chore. Licking her lips, she wondered how to seduce him. She couldn’t just tell him, “Hey I’ve changed my mind. Let’s fuck like bunnies.” Of course, being a man, he’d probably drop his pants quicker than she could say “fuck.”

Judging by the smoky looks he kept throwing her, and the bulge he kept shifting to conceal in his pants, Hannah figured she wouldn’t have long to wait before he made his next move.

Especially if she goaded him.

Brody put Hannah’s catch with the others in the cooler filled to the brim with water and turned around. Suppressing a groan, he took in the sight of Hannah shrugging off her track pants in the now warm, late morning sun. She wore cut-off jean shorts that showed off way too much thigh and a snug t-shirt that hugged her full breasts, unfettered by a constricting bra.

His mouth went dry, and all the blood and sense in his body went to his cock. Rigid as a steel beam, he turned from her, trying to control the lust that swept through him.

A soft touch on his back had him turning around to find her standing close. “Brody,” she said huskily. “I’m hungry.”

Those innocuous words put him over the edge. Grabbing her in a rough embrace, he slanted his mouth hard over hers, expecting at any moment for her to push him away, but unable to resist her appeal. To his surprise, her hands crept up and curled around his neck and clung to him tightly.

Completely undone by this sign of acquiescence, he groaned against her mouth, a sound he repeated when her mouth opened and her tongue tentatively probed the inner edge of his lip.

He immediately met this timid exploration with his own tongue, twining it around hers and tasting her unique sweetness, a flavor that he’d never forgotten.

She sagged in his arms, an action he remembered that signaled her desire, and he tightened his arms around her, the feel of her lush body against his driving him insane. Needing more, and not trusting himself to be able to hold them both upright, he scooped her up and brought her to the blanket. He laid her down, expecting her protest at any moment, but she held out her arms to him. Needing no further invitation, he covered her body with his own, her thighs spread and welcoming his hard body between them. Even through the material of his jeans, he could feel the heat of her calling to him. He ground his hips against the vee of her thighs, and she pushed back, her hot mouth panting against his.

Her hands slid under his shirt and rubbed against the muscles of his back. She tugged the fabric up and mewled against his mouth. At her signal, he left her lips long enough to pull off his shirt. Before he could cover her again, she’d placed her palms flat against his chest and he heard her murmur. “So strong. Sexy.”