On the Wild Side (The Wilds of Montana #4) Read Online Kristen Proby

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Wilds of Montana Series by Kristen Proby
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“What are you thinking?”

I turn to find Brady watching me, and I grin. “Just admiring this view. How about you?”

“Same. This is a spectacular view.”

“You’re a charming cowboy.”

That makes him laugh as he starts the car. “No ma’am, that’s not one of the ways people have described me. Now, what next? You’ve seen the lake with Chase’s house, and you’ve seen my cabin and my parents’ house. I can show you more of the actual ranch when there’s not so much snow.”

“Then, I guess we can just go back to your place and find…something to entertain us.”

“I’m sure we can come up with something.”

He turns the 4Runner around and heads back the way we came.

“Can I ask more rodeo questions?” I turn in my seat so I can look at him. Damn, his profile is something to write home about. That jaw is so chiseled, and his hands are sexy on the steering wheel. Now that I know how good they feel on me, I will never look at them the same way again.

“Abs?”

“Huh?”

He grins over at me. “You said you have more questions.”

“Oh, right. I do. So, after Dirks passed, how long did it take you to get back on a bull?”

He blows out a breath, thinking it over. “Geez, about a week, I guess.”

“That fast?”

He spares me a look. “A week is a long time for a rider to be off of a bull. I was damn rusty by then, and it took a while to get back into shape.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never kid about riding a bull.”

“So, what do you do in the winter? You’re not riding bulls out here on the ranch.”

“Do you want to see how I train in the offseason?”

“Of course, I do.”

With a nod, Brady parks in front of his cabin and then gestures for me to follow him around back to a rustic shed. He opens the door and motions for me to go inside, and he flips on a light before closing the door to keep out the cold.

“It’s chilly in here.”

“It’s heated, but I keep it at fifty. I get sweaty.” He shrugs and walks around the huge…thing in the middle of the room. “This is what we call a drop barrel. Mine is electric.”

“Is it like a mechanical bull?” I step up to it and run my hand over the carpeted round barrel at the end of a metal stick coming out of a machine.

“No, because the mechanical bull moves differently. This has just one motion, but it’s imperative for leg and core strength and for practicing technique and balance.”

“Are you going to show me?” I smile boldly before batting my eyelashes at him. “Please?”

His eyes narrow at me, and I shrug.

“Okay, I’ll do it. Start it up.” I move to hop up, but he’s suddenly beside me, holding me at the waist.

“Fine, I’ll show you.”

“Yay. I really didn’t know what I’d do if you called my bluff on that one.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I haven’t practiced today, so I guess this works.”

“When do you have time?”

“I usually come out here after early morning chores.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal and then hops up, as if it’s easy and second nature to him. “Put in an hour or so.”

The machine starts to move up and down in a rhythmic, rocking motion, and Brady’s legs tighten, one arm comes up, and he moves with it, up and down, up and down.

It’s…graceful. And hotter than I expected. Not that he isn’t hot with everything he does, but this is clearly what he knows and what his body is trained for, and he looks damn good doing it.

So good, in fact, that my panties are officially soaked.

After a few minutes, he hops down, shuts off the machine, and turns to me, not even breathing hard.

“And you do that for an hour?”

“Usually.” His eyes narrow. “Your cheeks are flushed.”

Oh, I just bet they are.

I saunter to him, grateful that the floor in here seems pretty clean, and when I reach him, my hands grip onto his button-fly, and I hit my knees.

“Whoa.”

“That was—” I shake my head as I ease his pants over his hips. “Sexy. Hot. Wow.”

“I guess so. Abs⁠—”

“I’m going to be brutally honest, Brady. I want to suck your cock.”

He chokes and then hums as I pull said cock out of his pants. It’s already hard and thick, and there’s a tiny bead of precum on the tip that has me licking my lips.

“Except, I’m not sure how to do this.”

That has his hand tangling in my hair and tipping my head back so I have to look up at him.

“What just came out of that gorgeous mouth?”

“I’ve never done this before, but I’m sure that what I lack in technique, I make up for in enthusiasm.”

“Jesus Christ,” he growls, and I didn’t think it was possible, but he gets even harder in my hands.



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