The Virgin Cowboy (Cowboys & Virgins Book 4) Read online

  The Virgin Cowboy

  Alexa Riley

  Contents

  The Virgin Cowboy

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Lassoing the Virgin Mail-Order Bride

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Everything For Her

  Preface

  Also by Alexa Riley

  Stalk the Author

  The Virgin Cowboy

  by Alexa Riley

  Dolly Jennings has wanted one man since she was sixteen, but he’s kept her at arm’s reach. Time has passed and she’s all grown up now, with a body that he can’t ignore.

  Brandon Knight has wanted Dolly for longer than he should have, but he thought she deserved someone better. No longer able to control his desires, he’s giving up on staying away, and claiming his woman.

  When Brandon finally gives in, can he prove himself worthy of Dolly? Will Dolly throw sass and southern sayings all over the place?

  Absolutely!

  Warning: This short story is packed full of big hair, big attitude, and big curves. Dolly holds her own, but the hero always ends up on top. *slow wink* Grab your boots and cowboy hat… We’ve got a couple of cherries to pop!

  Copyright © 2016 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http://alexariley.com/

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Aquila Editing

  Dolly’s book is dedicated to my 17 year old self…

  be patient, he’s worth the wait.

  1

  Brandon

  “Johnnie Walker. Straight up,” I say, leaning against the bar, not wanting to sit down. I’d been in a saddle all day riding fence lines after the bad storm we’d had, and sitting is the last thing I want to do right now. In fact, all I want to do is shoot whiskey until my body makes me sit. Then I can drag myself to the hotel next door and crash into a mattress that has probably seen better days. But I don’t care. For a night away from the Johnson farm, I’d sleep on a bed of nails.

  Fuck, I hate that place. One second I think I’m getting what I want, the next I’m in a living hell. All I ever wanted was to be a foreman and maybe have my own farm one day. I had put having my own farm on the back burner and concentrated on running the Johnson farm for Cash McCallister, but lately things have turned into a living hell, and I’m starting to question if maybe it’s time to move on.

  Cash bought the land a few years back because the farm ran along his. I’d been in charge of it since old man Johnson owned it, but it eventually became too much for their family to handle. He sold it off to Cash, and I kept running it for him. I’ve been at Cash’s side for as long as I can remember. He taught me everything I know about working a farm, but this isn’t working for me anymore.

  When Cash bought it, he’d let the owners keep the house with a small patch of land around it, but a little over a year ago, Johnson’s daughter June had come home after a bitter divorce. She’s the reason the farm has become so unbearable lately. She’s slowly driving me insane. I’m hoping a weekend away will give me time to reboot. Staying in a shitty hotel for a few days sounds like paradise right now. Anything to keep June’s claws from me. There’s only one woman I want digging her nails into me.

  Dolly Jennings’ face appears in my mind, and I want to groan. All that red hair that I can never seem to pull my eyes away from, and those big dimples that take up her full cheeks. She looks so goddamn sweet. No matter how hard I try, she’s never far from my thoughts. The bartender, Jimmy, drops my glass on the bar, breaking me from my spell. He’s brought me the only thing that can make me forget about the woman I can’t ever have. That little firecracker who’s way out of my league. Too sweet for a man my age. Too good for me to be thinking about. Too pure for all the things I want to do to her. But it’s been this way since she strolled into my life years ago, easily catching my attention. No one missed Dolly. She’d light up a night with no moon just by smiling.

  I pick up the glass of whiskey and shoot it back, feeling the burn of the alcohol move through me. I drop it back down on the old wooden bar, praying it makes the image of her disappear. Although deep down I don't want it to go away. I pause for a second and then decide to order another when June steps in front of me. Great. Here we go.

  “Hey, cowboy. Lucky seeing you here.” She winks at me, leaning up against the bar and standing a little too close. Her fancy perfume fills my lungs, making my throat burn more than the whiskey did. She’s always like this. I never understand what June is up to. Tonight she’s dressed in cowboy boots and shorts so short I’m not sure you can call them that. She plays up the cowgirl image in the way she dresses, but I’ve never seen her work on the land a day in her life.

  She’s a Beverly Hills cowgirl, if there is even such a thing. June doesn’t look like she could last an hour doing real work. Her straight bleach-blonde hair is never out of place and her face is covered with too much makeup. June wants to play make believe, and she wants me to pretend with her—something I have no intention of doing.

  “June,” I say, taking a step back, but she follows me.

  “Brandon.” She does a little eye-roll, like she’s teasing or we’re playing some flirting game. Her hand comes to my chest. “You still can’t call me JJ? Everyone does.”

  Her fake smile lights up her face. I know she can turn it on and off in an instant. I’d seen her do it time and time again to her own parents. She was the reason they’d lost their farm to begin with. They had to sell it to clean up after their daughter. June could spend money faster than a dog could lick his balls.

  “I’m not everyone,” I tell her, taking another step back and letting her hand drop away. I don’t want to give her the wrong idea. I think I did that when she’d first come back home to live with her parents. She was a fucking mess, to put it lightly, and I’d felt bad for her one night when she’d caught me out on my porch. She talked about how all she wanted to do was find a good man and to settle down, have a few kids and all that.

  I told her I wanted the same thing. Because I did. After spending years around Cash and his wife, Clare, I knew I wanted what they had. A family was something I’d never really had. All I ever had was a drunken father, and the only thing I felt about him was relief when he died. I was eighteen at the time, and thankful I didn’t have to worry about him anymore. It was fucked up, but years of cleaning up after him made it a blessing when he passed. Neither of us had to be miserable anymore.

  June had taken it to mean it was something we could have together, and I’ve been trying to get her to see I hadn’t meant I wanted to start a family with
her. But June has always gotten what she wants since she was a little girl, so she can’t understand when people tell her no. She can flip those tears and pouts on and off, but it does nothing for me.

  I glance around the bar, seeing plenty of men eyeing up June. I don’t know why she has her sights set on me. I don’t see why she doesn’t try elsewhere.

  “No, you’re definitely not everyone,” she says in a husky voice, and I wonder if that really works for her. Maybe it does, with how the men around us keep looking at her.

  When I start to pull my eyes back to June, I freeze when I see Dolly standing in front of me. Her hand rests on her full hip, and her bright blue eyes are narrowed on me. Those dimples I love are long gone. She looks pissed. Normally she’s all smiles when she sees me. Even flirts with me on occasion. I try to avoid it, because unlike with June, I fucking love it when Dolly gives me attention. I crave it, and it’s something I shouldn’t like. She’s too young for me. I repeat it to myself every night when I lie down in bed and stroke myself to the thought of her.

  My favorite one, the one that’s been killing me recently, is what would happen to those dimples when she’d be on her knees in front of me, my cock in her mouth as she sucked me down her throat. Would they disappear, or would I catch little glimpses of them as she worked her way up and down my dick?

  Fuck. I try to push the thought from my head, feeling my cock getting hard. She shouldn’t even be in here. She’s still a year shy of twenty-one. I thought I’d be safe in a bar, but here she is, standing in front of me. She looks madder than a cat with its tail on fire.

  “You’re too young to be in here, Dolly,” I tell her, looking down at her.

  Jesus, she’s gorgeous. I just want to reach out and touch her. Run my hand along her creamy skin. See if she’s as soft as I’ve always thought she’d be with all those curves. She’s built for a man. The kind of woman you want to come home to every night. To see standing in your kitchen, barefoot and round with your child. Not a speck of makeup on her face, and her hair wild from chasing after your kids all day. My chest aches with how much I want that image to come true.

  “Guess you better step away from this skank and follow me. Make sure I’m safe while I’m here.” She winks before she turns and leaves me standing there. I shouldn’t follow her, but she’s right. There are too many swinging dicks in this place to let her wander around on her own. I’ll just watch her. Make sure she gets home okay.

  June tries to grab me as I follow Dolly, but I ignore her. I keep walking, watching Dolly’s lush ass in her tight jeans all the way back to her seat. I watch her sit down with a dark-haired girl, and I take a seat on the other side of her.

  “I guess you handled that,” the dark-haired girl says, looking over at me.

  “Nobody fucks with what’s mine,” Dolly says.

  I grip the side of the bar at her words, fighting to keep myself from touching her. Dolly has always made teasing comments like that over the years. I used to think it was just some crush she had on me, something she’d grow out of. No way a girl like her would want to be saddled with someone ten years older than her. Someone who didn’t even have a name around here. Her family is well known. Everyone knows the Jennings family.

  If she keeps throwing that shit at me, she might not like what she gets. She thinks it’s cute and funny, but a man can only take so much. And with the hell I’ve been putting up with lately, I’d love to get lost in Dolly and forget about everything else.

  Dolly picks up a glass and starts drinking. I should stop her, but nothing really stops Dolly. She does exactly what she wants. I’ve always liked that about her. Not only does she do what she wants, but she doesn’t wait for it to be handed to her. She works for it. Goes in like a wild bull, never real sure of what she might do. I’d give up everything for just one small ride. I know I could get with her if I let it happen, but I know she’d ruin me. Hell, there’s a part of me she's already has ruined. I’ll never want anyone else but her.

  I watch her drink and laugh with her friend. Slowly closing in on her. I’m not liking that men are starting to glance their way. She looks happy, and she’s having a good time. I want to watch her and get lost in this. I could get drunk off her. The thought of another whiskey is long gone. This is all I need.

  They both stand up to go and dance, and I’m on my feet. But before I can cut them off, Blake, Dolly’s brother, is there punching a man who tried to grab the brunette. When he turns around, his eyes go to her.

  “Holy shit. I’ve never seen Blake lose his temper before.” Dolly says exactly what I was thinking. Blake is always laid-back and calm. “She’s as good as roped.”

  I know Dolly means the brunette she’s been laughing and drinking with all night. I think she’s right.

  “Jimmy. We’re gonna talk later about you serving them,” Blake yells.

  That was something I was planning on doing once the bar cleared out. I didn’t want to think about Dolly coming in here again and not having me to watch over her. I know people in small towns tend to do what they want, but I was going to make sure Jimmy wasn’t serving her.

  “I’ll give Dolly a ride home, Blake. Make sure she gets there safe,” I tell him, seeing he has his hands full already. Plus, I want to make sure she gets home. She isn’t staying here.

  “Thanks, Brandon. I’d appreciate it,” Blake says to me. Dolly crosses her arms, and I wonder if she’s going to fight me on this. “You sure it’s not too far out of your way?”

  “No, it’s fine. Anything to get a break from the Johnson farm. You know how June is.” I roll my eyes, and Dolly purses her lips at the mention of June. I reach out, grabbing Dolly’s arm and feeling her warm, soft skin under my fingers. I can’t help but wonder how I’m going to drive her home without touching her.

  2

  Dolly

  “Don’t do me any favors,” I say, tugging my arm free from Brandon’s touch.

  God, all I want to do is climb up his big, hard body and rub against him. I’m like a bear in heat with the way I want to cuddle and have sex with him. I stomp over to my truck and grab the handle. But suddenly Brandon’s hand comes over mine and he’s dangerously close to me again.

  Looking up into his big brown eyes, I can tell he wants me. I’ve known it for a long time now. I might be young, but my mama always said I had an old soul. Boys my own age never interested me, and I always hated that. I wanted to fit in and find love, but it just never happened. The day I saw Brandon on the Johnson farm baling hay with no shirt on, I knew my body had finally found its libido.

  I was sixteen, and my brother Ty needed to drop off some equipment for Brandon to borrow. I remember seeing him jump down from the back of his truck, all sweaty and tan. I’d never felt so much as a pulse between my legs before that, but the sight of Brandon that day had my heartbeat drumming out a rhythm on my clit. I had to cross my legs to find some relief, pressing the seam of my jeans tight to me. When he came to my side of the truck and took off his hat, that shaggy blond hair fell around his eyes, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning.

  Brandon has starred in every fantasy I’ve ever had. I’ve masturbated to that man so many times, I named my vibrator after him. It’s a tiny little vibe, though, and from what I’ve seen in outline of his jeans, my baby-daddy is packing some heat.

  “I’m not doing you any favors, Dolly. You’ve had some drinks and I want to make sure you get home safe.” His voice is deep, and the sun-kissed crinkles around his eyes make him look like Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall.

  “You gonna come tuck me into bed, too?” I say, boldly pushing up against his body, which is so close to mine. I have had a few drinks, so the usually flirtatious manner I adopt when I’m around him is in overdrive. “You’ll have to be careful, though, because I sleep naked. Wouldn’t want you doing anything you don’t want to.”

  I see his jaw twitch, and I give him a wicked grin. Nothing makes me happier than working him up.

  “Goddamn it,�
�� he says, wrapping his hand around my wrist and tugging me behind him to his truck.

  “No need to get all grouchy. You can sleep naked, too, if it will make you feel bett—” My words are cut off, and I let out a little squeal as he grabs me by the hips and lifts me into his truck. “Thanks for the boost, Daddy.”

  “Don’t call me that,” he says through gritted teeth.

  He tells me that every time I say it to him. I either call him Baby-daddy or just plain Daddy. It seems to get under his skin like nothing else, so of course I keep doing it. I randomly called him Baby-daddy one day when he came out to Blake’s farm to pick up a horse. He’d spent the afternoon on the ranch, so naturally I did, too. At one point I was feeding one of the lambs and he asked if he could sit with me. I joked that the lamb was our child, and for a moment we both laughed and played with the little guy pretending to be parents. It was silly, but something in my heart grew that day, and I haven’t been able to let it go since.

  Seeing him agitated, I giggle and raise my eyebrows, and he clenches his jaw as he climbs in. He slams the door of the truck and lets out a deep sigh before turning to me.

  “Dolly, I swear on all that is holy, that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one day. One day real soon.” The look in his eyes is so intense, I can’t help but push just a bit more.

  “Can you tell me how much longer? A girl has needs.” I rest my hand on his thigh, and he jerks under my touch.

  This is a bold move for me, seeing as how I’ve never so much as laid a hand on a man before, let alone on Brandon, the star of all my dirty fantasies. But the tequila is making me feel all kinds of brave, and so I go for broke. Leaning in, I whisper against his neck and ask him something I’ve always wanted to know.