My Virgin Cowboy Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Note From The Author

  About the Author

  More books by Sade Rena

  My Virgin Cowboy

  Copyright © 2020 by Sade Rena

  This novella is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher or author.

  A Novel Written & Published by Sade Rena

  Cover Designer: The Cover Collective

  Interior Design: The Graphics Shed

  Chapter One

  Renee

  “He hasn’t stopped calling, has he?” Leah asks, taking the seat next to me.

  I drop my phone on the bar. “No,” I chuckle with my brows raised.

  “Block him already. He fucked up, not you. So screw him, I never liked his ass anyway.” She turns on her stool and calls the bartender over.

  “Yeah,” I retort, not sure of what else to say.

  “What can I get you, ladies?”

  “I’ll take a vodka soda and another round of what she’s having,” Leah orders.

  He nods, leaving us alone. I suck an ice cube into my mouth, moving it around, savoring the remanence of tequila and lime juice. A moment later, he places the drinks in front of us and turns to help other customers.

  “I’m serious, you’re amazing, and if that fucker can’t see that, then you don’t need him. You’re here now, about to start a new, bomb ass life. Leave all that negativity back home. We will find you a new man, get you laid, and show that fool what he walked away from.”

  I don’t offer a response. She’s right; I am amazing. But her words won’t stop the aching in my heart. Now drinking has a better chance of helping me to forget. I doubt it will, I loved him too much, but it’s a start.

  “And tell me again why you’re staying in this hotel? You could have stayed with Denton and me.”

  “I didn’t want to intrude. I’ll get the keys to the house in a week, I’m fine here until then,” I add, taking a pull from my glass.

  Leah downs hers. “Okay.” She stands. “Well, I’m gonna go. I wanted to stop by before driving back to town. I’ve been in the shop all day, and a bath is calling my name.”

  “Thanks for coming,” I say as I turn in my seat to face her.

  “I’m so freaking excited you’re here. It’s about damn time; we’ve only been talking about your move to Coldbank for the last few years.”

  I laugh. “Oh, hush. You know things had to be in order first.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Be prepared for dinner on Sunday. You don’t need to bring anything but yourself, but you will be there,” Leah demands, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

  “It is Sunday,” I joke.

  “You know what the hell I mean.”

  We laugh.

  She leaves me with my thoughts, tears threatening to fall with the realization she’s heading home to be with her hubby. That’s what I should be doing right now—not sitting at the bar in some Texas hotel, drinking away my sorrows. I’m supposed to be married and coming back from a beautiful honeymoon, starting a life with the man I was sure was my forever person.

  With my knuckle, I wipe away the moisture, clear my throat before drawing in a deep breath. I’ve cried enough these last two months. My phone lights up from a text. It’s not him, but a part of me wished it was. Why do I always want it to be him?

  Leah’s right. Why do I torture myself with what should have been? He cheated— plain and simple. It had only been him for me. I’d given seven years, and two months before our wedding, he strays. Tears sting the back of my eyes, but I blink them away.

  A group of guys enters, talking and laughing at one another. Grateful for the distraction, I crane my neck, taking them all in. Neither notice me watching at first, but as they make their way to the far side of the bar, one does. He catches my gaze, doubling back as if he’s not sure he sees what he thinks he does. There’s something about the way the light hits his face, making it hard for me to look away. It highlights the sharpness of his jawline and the evidence of a five o’clock shadow.

  He’s tanned like he spends his days outdoors, and even from here, I can see the blueness in his eyes. His blonde hair, while cut short, is still nice and full. I continue to check him out, thinking he looks familiar, but aside from Leah’s nuptial ceremony, I’ve never been here. So I can’t imagine where I would’ve seen him before. Perhaps he just has one of those looks, one that’s just common and relatable.

  I toy with the rim of my drink and lean forward, resting my chin on the back of my hand, finding absolutely no shame in mentally undressing him. God, has it been that long? So long that I’ve resorted to eye-fucking strangers. A stranger, though hot as sin, is probably too young for me. They all are. I mean, he is in a bar, so he has to be at a minimum of twenty-one, but maybe a little older. Either way, he’s fine as hell.

  One of his friends blurts out something, but I’m too distracted to make out what it is. The others laugh, but he doesn’t seem to notice either. The loud one grips his shoulders, cheering him on, but again I can’t make out what’s said.

  He stares at me, not paying attention to where he’s going.

  “Yo, Parker?” I hear another say when he runs into him.

  Mm, Parker. That fits, I think to myself.

  He glances at them and back to me. He mutters something and rubs his chin, and takes a seat on an empty stool, his gaze still locked with mine.

  I tilt my head, unable to deny the instant attraction I have to this man. He smiles, showcasing a beautiful set of teeth. I return the gesture and call for another drink. Before I can, he stops the bartender, slouching forward to whisper in his ear. A moment later, there’s a fresh tequila and lime placed in front of me.

  “Here you go. From the guy down at the other end,” he says.

  I contemplate for several seconds, debating on whether I want to accept. Wondering if I do, what will this guy expect? When I glance up again, he’s watching me with disappointment in his eyes, and I realize he probably fears I’ll reject it. I wrap my fingers around the frosty glass, condensation running down the sides. His eyes light up when I lift it to thank him. I take a sip, grinning behind the rim, embracing his overt flirtation.

  For the next several minutes, he continues to steal glances my way. But neither of us make a move or do more than the occasional smile. I peek at my smartwatch, realizing I’ve been here way too long and should call it a night.

  With a deep breath, I slide off my stool, signaling for the barkeep to close me out. I remove my purse from the hook on the underside of the counter and hand him my debit card. When he returns it, I drape the strap across my
body and place my card back in its place. From the corner of my eye, I see there’s a commotion in the guys’ direction but ignore it. Instead, I down the very last of my now watered-down beverage and aim for the exit.

  The voices behind me rise a notch, blending, making it hard for me to hear them if I tried. But one rings clear.

  “Hey. Excuse me,” a deep voice rattles off before there’s a hand on my elbow.

  I halt, turning to find him just inches from me. Oh, I think with my brows hiked. Now he makes a move.

  “Hi.” I smile.

  He huffs, his shoulders relaxing. “You ain’t leaving, are you?”

  “I was planning on it,” I say, my tone suggesting uncertainty.

  He wets his lips, and I shamelessly follow his tongue.

  “Damn. I guess I should’a come over sooner.” He stuffs his hands in his pocket, his nervousness showing in the way he bunches his shoulders around his ears.

  “Why didn’t you?” I ask softly.

  He shrugs. “I was scared. When you stood up, my boys encouraged me to man up and stop you.”

  “I like them.”

  He chuckles and tilts his head. “I’m Parker.” His hand extends, and I accept.

  “Hi Parker, I’m Renee. Nice to meet you.”

  Parker uses his thumb to point behind him. “Anyway, can I get ya to stay for another drink?”

  I look over to the bar and back up at him. Leah’s words are heavy on my mind— find you a new man, get you laid—and I seriously contemplate the statement. But this is not like me. I don’t have one-night stands or hook up with guys I meet in bars.

  I don’t crave the touch of someone who’s yet to stimulate me. Or maybe that’s my biggest problem? I don’t pay attention to what’s in front of me. I see past it, for what it could be instead of what is.

  Because right now, it’ll be a lot easier to let go of all inhibitions, to let loose and be free for a change. To clear my mind of the shit that’s happened and handle an itch that desperately needs to be scratched. My breath hitches, because for the first time in months, I admit to myself I don’t want to be lonely, even if it’s just for tonight.

  “If you need to go, no big deal,” Parker says when I don’t offer him a response.

  I blink, bringing my attention back to the moment. “No.” I stand tall. “I’d love another drink.”

  He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, smiling at the same time. “Good.” Parker stretches his hands towards the stool I previously occupied, placing the other at the small of my back.

  The feel of his fingers against me sets me on high alert, sending a chill down my spine. I shiver and suck in a breath as every nerve in my body tingles.

  “Whew,” I whisper, touching my cheeks, feeling the heat from that one subtle gesture. Oh, this might be a terrible idea, Renee.

  Parker allows me to sit first before doing so himself and propping his foot on the bar beneath my seat. Now caged between his thigh and the liquor-stained surface, I fight to keep my gaze above the belt and not at the slight bulge I see in his jeans. He’s not aroused from what I can tell. But with the way the fabric stretches across his lap when he sits, I can’t help but notice his package.

  Lord, now I want to know just how big it is. Look him in the face, Renee. Ask him a question or something before you chicken out.

  Gary, the bartender, places a round on a napkin, asking if Parker wanted to add it to his friend’s tab. He nods without breaking our gaze.

  Why is he staring at me so… intensely? I watch him sip his drink, deciding to follow his lead because if I don’t, I’m bound to say something stupid. Or worse, speak my thoughts aloud and ruin whatever attraction he may have for me. My palms sweat, so I wipe them on my skirt, then reach for my glass, downing it all in one gulp.

  “Oh,” he yelps in surprise. “Would ya like another?”

  I slam it down, wincing through the burn from the alcohol, and straighten my posture. “Do you wanna fuck?” I peer at him, hoping I’m not coming off too strong.

  Parker’s brows raise, and his back stiffens.

  Yup. That was too much, Renee. He doesn’t speak, and from the shocked expression on his face, I can’t tell if he’s excited or turned off by my bluntness. After a beat, I figure it’s the latter and twirl to the other side of the stool to hop off and head to my room. I’ve made enough silly mistakes in the last two months to last me a lifetime. Now, I can add being shut down by a boy who’s about ten years younger than me to the list.

  “Wait.” He touches the inside of my elbow. “Don’t leave,” he pleads.

  I give him a soft grin. “I should,” I say, shaking my head, unable to believe I just said that. “Before I say something else to embarrass myself. You’re probably barely twenty-one, anyway.”

  “I’m twenty-five actually, and I’d love to fuck you.”

  And there it is—the courage I need to plant one on him. No sooner than our tongues connect, his friends howl, chanting his name over and over. We can’t help but laugh and break our embrace.

  “Give me a second… all right?” He squints while holding on to my hand.

  I nod.

  Parker smiles, leaning back just a little before jumping to his feet and tripping on his way to his friends. He runs his palm down his pant leg and glances over his shoulder, jerking his attention forward when our eyes meet. My heart drums hard, pulsing through my ears while my mouth instantly dries.

  “Oh, goodness,” I huff out. “I’m doing this,” I say inwardly, praying I don’t psych myself out.

  Chapter Two

  Parker

  I ignore the cheers from my guys after snagging a condom from Chance. Most men come prepared for this, always ready in case some girl is looking to hook up for the night. That’s exactly why we’re here—to meet girls. So why am I so fucking nervous right now? I want this, like bad. The moment I laid eyes on her, my dick twitched. I guess I didn’t expect her to come right out and ask me. That’s supposed to be my job. But like an idiot, I sat there all night staring, nearly missing out on this opportunity.

  The elevators close, and Renee wastes no time pulling me to her. I crush my mouth to hers, meeting her tongue with my own. My hands go to her hips, where I squeeze, digging my fingers into her sides. I fight the urge to pin her into the wall, deciding I’d better brace myself. But my crotch jerks when she slides her hands under my shirt. The same way it did when she asked me if I wanted to fuck.

  Damn, her lips taste so good—like lime and tequila. She bites me gently, and I groan through the pleasure. Her touch is passionate as she gropes my skin, digging her chest into mine. The rise and fall of her breasts is distracting, and all I can think about is how badly I want to suck them. Gahh, I draw in a breath, hoping to calm the hell down, but I’m unable to.

  Every time she moans in my mouth, I grow more excited. Holy shit. I can’t believe this is happening right now. I don’t pick up girls at the bar, especially not older girls. Woman—she’s definitely all woman.

  Fuck. Relax, Parker.

  The doors chime open, and she drags me out, her hands wrapped around my neck, sealing me in her grasp. She turns, keeping her arms in place but being careful to lead us in the right direction. A few steps into our stride, she stops to kiss me again, before pulling me along.

  “Room 827,” she pushes out.

  I nod, walking wide-legged with one eye open to search for her door, still keeping our lips locked together. At the end of the hall, I find the sign that lets me know we’ve reached our destination.

  She tilts backward. “The key is in my right pocket,” she adds before leaning into me again.

  We continue to make out as I dig into the pocket of her skirt. Unable to resist, I squeeze her ass, growling at its softness, even through the thick fabric of her clothes. I remove the card, pressing her back to the door, and unlock it. We push inside with my arms snug around her waist, stumbling further into the room. My shoe bumps her suitcase, and I kick it out of the way whi
le she secures the latch. I swallow hard, licking my lips, waiting for her to turn back around. I ache to kiss her more and finally get her out of her clothes.

  She rushes to me, and in one motion, I kneel, scooping her up in my arms. Renee settles in my grasp when her legs find their way around me, her plump ass resting on my crotch. The heat between her thighs seeps through to my jeans, letting me know how hot she is for me.

  Shit, this is happening.

  She grabs the tail of my t-shirt, dragging it over my head. I slip out of it, one arm at a time so as to not release my hold on her. When I’m free, she glares at my naked chest, licks her lips, and dives in for my neck. She uses her tongue to circle my collarbone, leaving a warm trail up to my ear and back to my mouth. I groan and squeeze my fingers into her flesh.

  Renee lifts enough to slide her palm down my abs, scraping her nails ever so softly until she meets my belt. Fuck. She peels my waistband from my body and dips her hand into my jeans.

  “Shit,” I pant.

  Her touch is ravenous, and I have to brace myself for when she gets what she wants and has her hand around my length. I lower her and tug at her top, halting her pursuit. But she resumes her mission and goes for my crotch, rubbing me from the outside of the denim. My dick twitches and she smiles in my mouth.

  “Looks like you’re ready for this, too,” she moans.

  “God, you’re so hot.” My eyes land on her breast, admiring the way she fills out the smooth, silky material of her bra.