Breaking Rule Seven Page 2

Charity couldn’t tell if he meant that as a compliment or not. All she knew was her body ached to feel the warm touch of his skin in her most intimate places.

“Forget the rules,” he commanded.

“No,” she whispered back, unsure if she believed her own words or not as her heart rate quickened and the heat rose between her thighs.

“Forget. The. Rules.” Clay’s lips hovered over hers, ready to move in for another kiss. She could already feel his hardness through his jeans, which was quite evident as close as their bodies were to one another.

Everything inside Charity’s head screamed for her to run from Clay. To keep her wits about her, do her job, and stick to her personal code of conduct. But her body failed her, craving to feel his gentle caresses over every square inch of her being.

Finally, she gave in and pressed her lips against his, the passion between them mounting into a fiery ball of need.

Clay’s hand reached up and fisted in her chestnut hair, pulling it from the confines of the elastic band and causing it to sprawl wildly around her shoulders. Charity let out a soft moan as he nibbled on her bottom lip, her fingers gliding over the bare skin of his chest. She could smell the seductive scent of his aftershave, causing her to want to drink in the aroma forever.

Rule number seven be damned.

Grabbing his hand, she pulled him across the apartment to the tiny bedroom. If letting her guard down and breaking her most important personal standard was going to happen, she wanted to be the driving force behind it.

Charity could feel her carefully orchestrated world crumbling as she stripped her jeans off, exposing her long legs and a seductive black lace thong. She knew sleeping with Clay was a bad idea, yet her body craved his touch in ways she couldn’t wholly understand.

Unbuttoning the front of the sweater, she pulled it down her shoulders and tossed it aside.

“You are beautiful,” he said slowly, stroking her cheek and tasting her lips once more.

“I’m sure you say that to all the women,” she teased, her tone laced with sarcasm.

As she reached for the button of his tight jeans, Clay’s hand caught hers. “No. I want to have my way with you first.”

He scooped her up in his arms and laid her gently on the mattress, planting another erotic kiss on her swollen lips. After a brief moment, he broke the contact between them and proceeded to plant a trail of kisses down her body, starting at her neck and ending just above her the line of her silken panties.

Enjoying every single sensation he brought forth, Charity gasped when she felt the suddenness of the crotch of her underwear pushed aside and his mouth lapping at her velvety core. As Clay’s mouth massaged her clit, she could feel the passion building within and began to writhe in pre-orgasmic ecstasy.

For a brief moment, Clay stood and freed himself from his jeans and boxer briefs. Charity licked her lips as she took in the scene of his hard, naked body and thick erection, which was even more glorious than she had envisioned in even her wildest fantasies.

Reaching up and unhooking her bra, she tossed it away. Grabbing her own breasts with her palms, she began to roll the little buds of her nipples between her fingers. The mix of sensations between her own touch and Clay’s was enough to send her into all out euphoric bliss.

A cry escaped her throat. When she had come back down from her high, she was left panting against the bed.

“Oh, no. We aren’t even done yet, sweetheart,” he cajoled, reaching onto the nightstand for his wallet. Pulling out a condom and tearing the wrapper, Clay slipped it onto his cock before turning his attention back to her body.

Charity cried out as he slid his hardness between her thighs, entering her with expert precision.

It had been months since she had felt the heat of a man and it took a moment for her body to accommodate his girth. Her body felt as though it were on fire, every touch magnified by a hundred and fifty percent.

As Clay found his rhythm and rocked his hips into her, he bent down and pressed his lips to hers. Swallowing her lusty mews as she came again, it only took a couple more thrusts before he tumbled over the edge with her.

Both of them fell against the mattress, panting and buzzing from the passion they’d both just experienced. While Clay went into the bathroom to clean up, Charity silently chided herself for giving into his charms.

“So, are you planning on telling me that your set of rules still applies here?” Clay asked after he had returned to the bedroom and Charity was nestled in his arms.

“Rule number seven always applies,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“What makes this rule so damn important, anyway?” he quizzed, giving her one of his trademark dimpled grins.

Charity frowned. She didn’t like airing the dirty laundry of the past to anyone, but for some reason she felt she could trust Clay. “He was a pro athlete. Football player, actually. I was hired to represent him by the team, mostly because he had a reputation for being a little bit of a bad boy.”

Clay let out a small laugh. “Sounds familiar. Go on.”

“Actually, it does.” Charity giggled. “Anyway, he was married. One night I was in my office and he came in. One thing led to another and—”

“And rule number seven happened?”

“Exactly,” she replied.

“Never get personally involved with a client,” the both said in unison. Clay reached down and took Charity’s hand, intertwining their fingers as she rested her cheek on his chest.

“His wife found out. Who, coincidentally enough, was my boss,” she confessed.

“Ooh. That’s rough,” he said, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. It was a caring and intimate gesture that surprised Charity.

“Yeah, it definitely did not work out the way I really wanted it to.”

“Well… I can tell you one thing,” Clay said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smirk.

“What’s that?” Charity asked.

“At least I’m technically not your client,” he whispered in her ear, playing with a small strand of her dark-brown hair between his fingertips. “Which means we can do this…” His palms switched their attention to her chest, brushing her exposed nipples and causing her to shiver. “Without really breaking rule number seven.”

“Brief technicality,” she said, sighing at the heat of his touch. “Rule number seven is still a rule.”

“You know what? I don’t like rules,” Clay remarked with defiance glimmering in his deep-blue eyes.

“Gasp! I’d never have guessed that one,” Charity teased, running a trail of kisses down his torso.

“Hate ’em, actually. Never found one I really agreed with,” he laughed.

“Why does that not surprise me?” Rolling her eyes, she gave him a playful slap on the arm.

“Hey! At least I’m honest!” Clay flashed his blue eyes at her, and she couldn’t help but feel her skin warm once again. There was just something absolutely seductive about every inch of this man.

“Now it’s your turn to tell me a few things,” Charity said as she propped herself up, anxious to change the subject.

“Such as…?” Clay asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Such as… why you insist on causing trouble on the circuit? And what’s with the badass playboy act? I’ve seen you, Clay. You are one hell of a bull rider.”

A serious look crossed his face and he got quiet. “What is this, the goddamned Spanish Inquisition?”

Charity smiled. “Wow, cowboy. No need to get all bent out of shape about it. You wanted to know something personal about me. Now I want to know something personal about you. So, fess up.”

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Clay leaned against the wooden headboard and took a deep breath. “We aren’t that different, you and I,” he finally replied.

“How so?” Charity propped her chin up in her hand, interested to hear what he had to say.

“We both care a hell of a lot about what others think.” He rolled over on his side and locked eyes with her. “You’re in public relations. I have a public persona to uphold that seriously dictates my career. Think about it.”

“Clarify.”
< br /> “Alright. You probably think I spend all my time getting drunk, starting fights, and picking up women,” he reasoned. “In all truth, I don’t drink. And any fight I’ve been involved in since I was fourteen is because the other guy laid a hand on me first.”

She couldn’t believe what she just heard. “Excuse me? So, you just run around like a fool for no good reason?”

Clay flashed a dimpled smile and dropped his voice low. “Honey, I have a very good reason. Those fans that show up to watch me ride a beast of an animal for eight seconds, do so to live vicariously through me. These are the same good old boys who go home to their wives and make it to church on time on Sunday, but wish they were out fighting and carrying on. So, yes… I go out and act like a complete jackass to make sure a whole crowd of people keep buying tickets for a sport I care about keeping alive and love with all my heart.”

Charity was flabbergasted. “All this time, I thought you were just some immature man-child who couldn’t grow the hell up.”

“I get that a lot,” he said with a grin.

“And the women?” she asked cautiously.

“Well, that part is slightly true. Hell, it gets lonely out on the road…” He ran his fingers through her dark-brown tresses again, stopping to stroke his thumb across her delicate jawline. “But the real truth is I haven’t found someone who spurred my interest… yet.”

Staring into Clay’s deep blue eyes, Charity silently willed him to kiss her again. There was something mesmerizing about this man, although she wasn’t entirely sure what it was. This new information he had offered her completely rocked every impression she had ever had of him and it shook her to the core.

Only a mere moment later, almost as though he had read her thoughts again, Clay’s lips covered hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she quickly found herself pressing him back against the mattress and straddling his still-naked body. Covering his chest in a trail of soft pecks, she could already feel the hardness of his manhood returning against her flat belly.

A slight moan laced with her name escaped Clay’s throat as she bent down and took his cock in her mouth. Circling the tip with her tongue, she bobbed her head up and down causing him to close his eyes in enjoyment.

Charity could taste the saltiness of his skin, which only turned her on further. She longed to have him buried deep insider her again, feeling the throbbing of every inch he offered.

After she felt as though she had aroused him just enough, she reached off to the bedside table and grabbed Clay’s wallet. Handing it to him, Charity didn’t have to explain what she wanted him to do. Pulling out another condom, he tore the wrapper quickly and slipped it over his hardness.

Planting her knees on the bed and lowering herself onto him, Charity let out a moan as she took in his entire length.

Rotating her hips in a clockwise motion, Charity found just the perfect rhythm. She let out a cry when Clay reached up and began circling her already swollen and ultra sensitive clit with a light touch.

It only took a few more swift movements before she started vibrating around his cock in a massive orgasmic spasm. The mere sensation of her body reacting to his was enough for Clay, and a moment later he let out a growl of pleasure of his own.

“Damn, girl. That was amazing,” he panted as she crawled off him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were the one who rode bulls for a living, with the way you balanced like that and all.”

Charity chuckled, her eyelids getting heavy with exhaustion. “Well, next time we’ll test your center of gravity. See if you can hold on longer than eight seconds while I’m bucking underneath you.”

“I like that idea,” he said with a smirk as she laid her head on his shoulder.

As the sun started to peek over the horizon and stream light inside the tiny apartment-bedroom window, Charity let out a soft sigh. Falling asleep in the arms of a cowboy who had, on a daily basis, caused her so much grief went against everything she had based her life in Broken Branch on. But, she forced herself not to worry about it. Instead, she drifted off to sleep feeling safe and warm in the strength of his embrace.

***

“Knock, knock!” Ginny Blevins’s voice rang through the silence of the morning and into the small apartment.

Panic swept through Charity. She’d promised Garrett that she would get Clay out of there before Ginny found out. But, here they were, still sweaty from a second round of morning fucking.

“Ummm… Just a minute, Ginny! Be right there!” Charity scrambled out of bed, tossing on jeans, a bra, and one of Clay’s white-under shirts that sat folded on the top of the dresser.

Clay raised an eyebrow at her as she pulled her hair up into a quick ponytail. “I like that shirt on you.”

“Shhh!” Charity hissed softly. “Garrett didn’t tell her that you were here. I was supposed to have you gone by now…”

A loud laugh escaped Clay’s throat. He leaned across the bed and cupped her cheek, pressing a smooth kiss on her lips. “Just another way we’ve been had, darlin’, remember?” he asked coolly. “Ginny’s the one who brought me up here and offered to let me stay the night. In fact, I’d bet a dollar or two that she orchestrated this whole thing. Garrett’s probably just along for the ride.”

Charity’s mouth dropped open. Those two really had played her.

“Morning, Gin!” Clay cheerfully shouted to the living room from his perch on the bed.

“Hey, Clay. You hungry? I brought breakfast for y’all,” Ginny hollered from the living room.

Charity didn’t know whether to be thankful or furious. Not only had Ginny and Garrett set her up for this, they assumed she’d still be at the apartment the next morning. Color rose in her cheeks when she realized that they had also probably assumed that she and Clay had slept together.

For the first time in a long time, she was absolutely speechless. Walking into the living room, she took a seat at the small dining table where Ginny had set out platters of scrambled eggs, biscuits, and homemade gravy.

“I figured you two would need a good meal before the big event later today,” the older woman said with a wink.

Before Charity could reply, Clay waltzed into the room fully dressed. “Nice touch, locking the door and all,” he said to Garrett, who was lazily perched on the love seat. “Point proven, buddy.”

“Worked, didn’t it? She’s still here this morning.” Garrett replied, a smirk playing with the edges of his mouth.

Charity couldn’t help but feel ready to scream. “Uh, hello? I’m still actually in the room…”

Ginny laughed. “We’re all adults here. Besides, I figured you two just needed a little push in the right direction…”

Charity opened her mouth and shut it, at a complete loss for words as to why Ginny Blevins decided to play matchmaker between her and Clay.

“A push? Gin, that was like a shove off a cliff!” Clay bellowed. “But, hey… It’s all good.”

Charity was ready to explode. Here, she had spent a passionate night with Clay and poured her heart out to him. Now, he acted like this was some sort of joke.

“All three of you are insane,” she shouted, standing up and gathering her things. “I’ve got a big day today. We’ve got a big event today.” And with that, Charity marched out the door and to her waiting vehicle. She thought for a moment that Clay might follow her, but heard Garrett tell him to sit down instead.

On the way back to her apartment, she let out a huge sigh. Despite knowing exactly what she had gotten herself into, she couldn’t help but realize she had huge feelings for Clay. This, in a big way, affected her job at the PRRA.

“Rule number seven,” Charity said aloud. “Biting me in the ass once again.”

***

It had been a week since their encounter in the Blevinses’ barn apartment.

Charity hadn’t heard a single peep from Clay and she began to wonder if the whole thing had been another of his wild flings. Even during the rodeo event in Broken Branch, he had kept his distance.

Of course, she hadn’t had to bail him out of trouble since then, either.

Sitting in her tiny PRRA office, she found herself daydreaming about the n
ight they had shared together. Charity licked her lips as she thought about the way he understood exactly what she wanted and what it took to make her body surrender. And the way he had listened to her story about San Diego and why rule number seven came into effect.

Or what he had revealed about his bad boy reputation.

Most of all, she reminisced about how right it felt in his arms, falling asleep to the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.

“Get a grip, girl!” Charity whispered under her breath, trying the keep her body from reacting to her seductive thoughts. In fact, her focus on the moment had her so mesmerized that she didn’t notice the handsome cowboy standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” Clay said, soft and low.

“Uh… Hey, Clay.” Charity rearranged paperwork on her desk to make it appear as though she were extra busy. “What can I help you with?”

A hurt look crossed his face for a moment and she knew something was up. Closing the door behind him and turning the lock, he moved closer to Charity. He kissed her lips with slow smoldering passion, leaving no doubt as to why he had come to see her.

“Clay, look… You don’t have to do this,” she whispered. Self-preservation had long been her way of emotional survival. Keeping a cool head, Charity decided, was the only way to get out of the situation without getting her heart broken. “We had a good fling. Sure. Why don’t we just leave it to what it was and go back to just working together.”

Clay clenched his jaw and stepped back, putting an arm’s length of distance between them. “I actually came here to talk to you about that.”

A confused expression crossed her face. Yet again, this man had her completely befuddled.

“Here’s the thing, Charity. When I said I hadn’t found a woman who interested me yet, I lied. This wasn’t exactly just a setup by a crazy couple hell bent on getting me to settle down.” Clay pulled off his ball cap, running his fingers through his blonde hair. “This has been brewing for months. Since you came to Broken Branch, really.”

Charity couldn’t believe what she heard. All this time—while he screwed buckle bunnies and rodeo groupies left and right—his thoughts were of her?