The rose brushed lower, slipping over her dampened pussy, tickling the insides of her thighs. She let her knees fall open, the cool morning air kissing the moisture pooling in her channel. With one hand, she brushed the rose across her pussy, with the other, she dipped a finger into the heated wetness, sliding it up to the nubbin bringing a thick coating of come.
Not as powerful as Connor's tongue, but she closed her eyes and remembered how it felt to have his mouth on her, licking and teasing, flicking her button of desire, turning her on to such brightness she thought she might die from overexposure.
Her finger tapped her clit, then slathered it in juice.
Connor had licked her, swirling his tongue around and around, shooting spurts of adrenaline and desire through her bloodstream. As it was now, the tingling began in her outer extremities, traveling with lightning speed to her core.
Charli moaned, her back arching off the bed, the speed with which she flicked her clit increasing until the pleasure bordered on pain. Her finger stilled, her hand cupping her pussy pressed down, until the orgasm peaked, the sheer beauty of it bursting through to brighten the morning sun.
As she fell back to earth, Charli sighed, pulling the sheets up over her breasts. She dragged the pillow Connor had used against her body in a poor imitation of the solidly built, muscular cowboy. She'd much rather wake to the real man, making love to her.
Maybe next time. She grinned and squealed into the pillow. Connor Mason had finally made love to her, and it had been everything she'd hoped and dreamed of.
As the rest of the night came back to her, his final comment before she'd drifted off to sleep came back to haunt her.
I'm a one-woman kind of guy. I wanted to be sure you were a one-man kind of girl.
The beauty of the morning faded into a pall of worry.
Charli had been dating Connor while seeing a mystery cowboy after midnight. Granted, she'd never said she was going to date Connor exclusively when it all started between the two of them. And she still didn't know who her mystery cowboy was. At this point, it barely mattered. She hadn't seen the stranger in a week, nor did she care to. Connor was the man for her. He was gentle, kind, a war hero, a sexy cowboy and now...she knew without a shadow of a doubt, he was great in bed.
What more could a woman ask for?
Charli flopped back against her own pillow. What would happen if he found out about the mystery cowboy? Should she tell him and get it over with? Her chest squeezed at the thought. What if he dumped her? What if he said he couldn't be with a woman who'd kept things from him?
Chewing on her lip, Charli weighed her options and came up short. Her conscience wouldn't let her live a lie. Not when she stood a chance at a real relationship with a great guy. If they couldn't be honest with each other, where did that leave them?
She rolled over and hugged the pillow. Oh, but he'd been so sweet, so kind, so...hunki-licious. How could she live without him, now that she'd tasted of what he had to offer? Another groan and Charli sat up, pushing the pillow and sheets aside.
The only way to deal with an impossible situation was to meet it head-on. But it didn't hurt facing the challenge looking her best. Tonight was the Cowboy Ball—a tradition at the Ugly Stick Saloon to sponsor a masquerade ball for the locals and the rodeo cowboys, after the first day of the rodeo events. Her boss, Audrey Andersen, always insisted her girls dress in costumes, usually those of old-time dancehall girls.
A satisfied smile spread across Charli's face. Good. She looked great in a corset bustier and the flouncy skirts only showed off her legs. How could he possibly dump her when she'd be displaying her best assets?