Flawless (Chestnut Springs Book 1)

Kip: Hell of a ride tonight, kid.

Rhett: Yup.

Kip: What’s wrong?

Rhett: Your daughter is what’s wrong.

Kip: I don’t even believe you. That girl is one of the best people I know. And I’m not just saying that because I’m her dad.

Rhett: Yeah, she is. That’s the problem.

I take an aggressive sip of the shitty beer in my hand before putting it back on the table with far more force than I intended.

“You’re going to break that thing, Boss.” Theo chuckles and takes a sip of his own, eyes alight with humor while he sits across from me at the high-top table.

Rather than replying to his goading, I roll the bottle between my hands, feeling more than hearing the clink of the glass against my silver rings over the country music blaring through this bar.

“Thought you’d be in a better mood after winning. Again. Would it kill you to give the rest of us a moment in the sun?”

“You’re young, Theo. Work harder. Earn it. Spur your bull more and hold on for dear life rather than taking the path of least resistance. Mediocre isn’t good enough to win on this tour.”

I’m being harsh, but it’s probably time for him to level up. If his old man were still around, he’d tell him the same thing. I remember him doing it with me.

He rubbed my back until one day he shoved me into the deep end. Tough love. It works when someone is as competitive as I am. Like a challenge to do better.

Theo snorts, his head rearing back a little. He’s playing it cool, but I can tell by the spark in his eye that I’ve ticked him off a tad. Just the right amount to make him want to be better. Small increments all the time.

I get a real kick out of watching him develop, and I love being there for him even if I wish it were his dad instead of me.

Try as I might to keep my eyes lasered on the brown bottle in my hands, they slip over to where I know Summer is sitting with that sleaze bag, Emmett. All I can see is her back, the taper of her waist where her brand new WBRF t-shirt is tucked into those tight-as-fuck jeans, cinched with some belt that has a colorful stitched pattern on it. The way they hug her hips where her body flares out is distracting beyond comparison.

His stool is too close to hers, and he leans close to say something to her while laughing and shit. All happy-go-lucky golden boy, while I’m sitting over here brooding like a Neanderthal.

“Do you think hooking up with Cindy is a bad idea?” Theo pulls my attention back to him with a complete subject change.

“I don’t know. Why would it be a bad idea? She likes you. That’s why she pulled me aside. To find out if I knew what you were up to tonight. Like I’m some fucking schoolgirl who wants to gossip about relationship status.” I shake my head and take another swig of my beer.

During past seasons, if I felt like celebrating after a good ride, I’d roll out of the ring and snag myself a bunny. But the appeal has slowly but surely worn off, and the girls keep getting younger. Too young.

Or I keep getting older. I guess that’s more likely.

“Because she’s a buckle bunny, man. She’s been with other guys on the tour too.”

“When did you become a virgin again, Theo? Pretty sure I saw you balls deep in one of her friends when I walked into the locker room once.”

He laughs loudly now. “Forgot about that.”

“But do you like her?”

He bobs his head back and forth with a shy smile. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

“So, who cares? Maybe it works, maybe it doesn’t. Just don’t be a pig about it. Be up front. Buckle bunnies have feelings too.” I wink at him.

“Ah, dating advice from the famous ladies’ man, Rhett Eaton!” He holds his beer bottle up to me in cheers and I ignore it, opting to just take another swig. I’m not so sure my past behavior is to be celebrated.

I sneak a peek over at Summer again. I can’t keep my eyes or mind from wandering to her. If she leaves with Emmett, I might combust.

He slings his arm over the back of her chair like he has a right to.

“Speaking of girls . . .” Theo waggles his eyebrows and points his chin over at Summer.

“What?” I bite out. “My babysitter?”

“I wouldn’t judge. Fucking the babysitter is a thing for a reason.”

“I thought I told you not to be a pig?” I have to remind myself he’s only twenty-two—and walking around with a constant boner—before I bite his head off.

“Whatever, man. Just saying. You can’t take your eyes off her. It’s almost like you’re jealous.”

I resolve, right here and now, to not look over there again.

“Of Emmett Bush?” I snort. “That’ll be the day. I’ll start highlighting my hair and going for facials to get his Ken-doll glow just so I can be more like him.”

“You definitely don’t sound jealous at all,” Theo mocks.

I take another aggravated swig. “Good. Cause I’m not.”

“I can see why you would be though. She looks damn good on that bull.”

“What?” I whip around so fast that I knock my bottle in the process, righting it just before it creates more than a small puddle of beer on the table.

But when I glance back up, sure enough, Summer has climbed onto the mechanical bull. It’s surrounded by foam mats, and a crowd has gathered around the low barrier around the circle.

Her small hand is wrapped around the grip, and her pale jeans are so tight that I can see the fold where her thigh meets her hip.

She’s grinning widely, and when she looks at Emmett, her top teeth dig into her bottom lip.

Those fucking lips.

She gives a small nod and giggles as she does it. Looking so carefree. So young. So much happier than she usually does in my company.

The guy operating the machine starts it up, and her hips rock with the motion.

I have to look away. My brain is fried, and my cock is thickening. I want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of here. Put my mark on her.

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t need that, and I keep reminding myself to be a gentleman. I told Theo not to be a pig, and I need to make sure I’m not being one either.

I swivel on my stool to face Theo and chug the rest of my beer before waving at the server to bring me another.

I need it.

“Hey, guys.” Cindy walks up, looking at Theo like he’s a cake and it’s her birthday. “How’s it going?”

“Great.” Theo smiles and pats the stool beside himself.

I don’t say anything. The pheromones between them do nothing but annoy me. I wish the only thing keeping Summer and me apart was that we were both too stupid to just talk to each other.

Instead, she has to be all smart, and responsible, and career driven. Making us a problem, when in any other setting we’d be a no-brainer.

“Your girl can ride, Rhett,” Cindy says, nodding over at Summer.

Of course, she can. She’s strong. That she can sit on a mechanical bull better than the average person doesn’t surprise me one bit. I’ve watched her work out, watched that ass clench in her tights. I’ve watched sweat trickle down between her tits, her lips parted as she pants from a tough session.

I chance a glance over my shoulder because I’m a seriously weak son of a bitch where Summer Hamilton is concerned. Sure enough, she’s looking damn fine up there. Arm up, chin down, shoulders back.

But it’s not good for business when someone lasts too long, and I turn away just as the operator jerks her in the other direction, forcing her to lose her seat.

“She’s not my girl.” I hear the cheers for her, knowing that she probably finally took her tumble.

I hope she’s okay.

Theo rolls his eyes, but as he takes in the scene behind me, they go wide.

“You’re right,” Cindy agrees with a nod. “It looks like she might be Emmett’s.”

This time, I stand straight up, catching sight of Summer as she pulls Emmett’s cowboy hat off and plunks it on her head as they head over to the bar across the room.

And that’s it.

I’m striding across the bar, getting to her as fast as I can. It feels like it takes forever, but it has to have been under eight seconds.

Summer is tucking a shot into her cleavage when I get to her and knock that fucking hat right off her head.

“What the—” She stops talking when she catches sight of me. “What’s wrong?” She looks genuinely confused. Like she truly has no goddamn idea how crazy she drives me.

How badly I want her.

“Hey, man.” Emmett slithers up like the fucking snake he is. “You know the rules.”

“Yeah, I do. But she doesn’t. Keep your fucking hat to yourself.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Summer removes the shot glass from her cleavage and holds that hand up to stop us. “What rules?”

“Don’t worry about it, doll. Let’s do the body shot.” Emmett tries to redirect the conversation, edging his body in front of mine to block me out.

But my limbs are longer, and I reach around him and steal the shot right out of Summer’s hand. “Not a fucking chance.”

Emmett turns to glare at me, all that polite, sunny, farm boy bullshit persona melting right off him. “Beat it, Eaton.”

“Did you not hear me, Bush? I said not a fucking chance. I know your games. Play them somewhere else. Breathe on this girl the wrong way, and I’ll end you right here rather than just kicking your ass in the ring.”

His watery blue eyes narrow as he glares at me, jaw popping, shoulders drawn tight. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that he wants to hit me right now. I wish he would, so I could stomp on his stupid, shiny, predatory face.

It’s Summer who steps up now, that sexy smirk plastered on her full lips as she raises a hand to point at me. I know she’s trying to diffuse the situation, to keep me out of trouble, which is why I’m so surprised when she says, “Okay. Then you’re doing the shot.”

She doesn’t drop my gaze as she steps in front of Emmett. He’s behind her and the packed bar is beside us, but all I see is her.

Eyes twinkling, cheeks pink with exertion, dark hair loose and wild around her shoulders.

Summer puffs out her chest in my direction and my eyes drop to the swells of her breasts, the line of cleavage, and the vertical scar that traces up the center. “Put it in.”

I groan. She nibbles on her lip, aware of what she’s just said. So, I step closer, holding myself back from running my hands all over her, and lift the slender glass. Slowly, I press it between her soft breasts, trailing the pad of my ring finger over the rounded top of her flesh before tracing the line that goes up her entire chest. The scar that she doesn’t bother covering up because she’s so fucking strong. So brave.

I touch the raised skin, not caring how personal it feels to be doing this in public. Goosebumps erupt over her chest, and even over the blaring music, I can hear her quiet gasp. I feel the way her breath slides across my skin. It’s fucking distracting. It has my cock swelling in my jeans.

Her hand darts out, and she holds up a can of whipping cream with a challenging glint in her eye. We’ve been dancing around each other awkwardly since that day at the fence. We’ve barely talked, but now she’s looking at me like she wants to do an awful lot more than talk.

“In the mood for some dairy products, Rhett?” She shakes the can and before I can stop her, she sprays a line of it from the shot glass wedged between her tits right over the length of the scar.

It’s fucking pornographic. Or maybe it’s just been a while for me. Either way, I want to get her the hell out of here so I can bend her over and spank her perfect ass for putting Emmett’s hat on. Put her on her knees and shove my cock between those lips that have been taunting me for weeks now. Watch her eyes widen when I hit the back of her throat.

She stares up at me, whipped cream trailing up the middle of her chest, ending where her pronounced collarbones dip down and meet the soft spot at the base of her throat. “Or is that going to be too milky for you?”

I drop my head in her direction, blocking some of the onlookers out with the brim of my own hat. “You want me to lick whipped cream off you, Princess?”

Her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip as her eyes peruse my body in the hungriest way.

“Yeah. I think I do.”

I don’t need her to ask twice. I crouch low, pressing my tongue to her bare skin as her hands mold to my shoulders. My mouth slides over her sternum, and I don’t bother being polite about it either. I lick, I drag my teeth, and when I get to that soft dip, I suck at her skin before I press a gentle kiss against her.

Her fingers grasp my shirt, and her eyes are laser focused on me when I spare a glance up at her face.

I give her my best cocky, panty-melting smirk and dive back down between her breasts. One of her hands slides over the back of my neck, her fingers raking through my hair before taking hold. My lips wrap around the shot glass of something syrupy and sweet. Something I would never normally drink, but if Summer wants me to lick it off every square inch of her delectable body, I will happily spend hours obliging.

I stand tall and wrap an arm around her waist, tugging her against me as I tip my head back and down the shot.

I can feel her heart pounding against my ribs. She fits right under my arm, like that spot was meant for her.

“Okay, my turn.” Emmett tries to step in, but I turn Summer away under the shelter of my arm. The thought of letting her go now is almost unbearable. To him, to anyone.

Turn? This isn’t bowling, asshole. “I already told you. Not a fuckin’ chance.”

I hear him try to say something to Summer, but I’ve got her by the wrist and have a clear shot to the door.

We’re getting the fuck out of here.