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needing to, at least, have the solace of that, and then that voice,

"So what's your name, cutie?"

By now, I was fiercely trying to hold it together - and failing. Without forethought, I spit out my acid reply,

"My name is fucking force of nature that you don't want to fuck with tonight, Cowboy."

I lit a cigarette, praying that he would leave me to my rage.

"Whoa, little miss! Who pissed you off?"

But I was in fine form, and promptly replied,

"Mad at the world, Cowboy."

Nonetheless, his eyes were smiling, quite obviously amused at my discomfiture.

"Well, that's good. I'm not from this world," he said, beginning an old pickup line.

I shot him a warning glare and lifted my purse onto my shoulder. One more person wanting anything from me, could've been the thing that shoved me over the edge.

I gathered my keys and cross and turned to leave.

Feeling the blood drop from my face to my feet, I realized that this may not have been the night to slam hard liquor, so I steadied myself at the barstool and straightened my back.

Trying to appear as dignified as I could, I walked quickly past the Cowboy, in a less than straight line, and headed down the hall to the door. I was almost free, almost in the clear, when I felt a large hand clamp around my upper arm, spinning me around.

I looked directly into his eyes, where he could see the venom in mine.

"I can tell that you've got determination, little miss, but I don't want you to be driving around in your condition."

Automatically, I rifled through my mind for the best assurance that I would be fine, and opened my mouth to voice it.

"Let me just take you back to my place for the night," he said kindly, but I whirled on him, glaring daggers into his eyes, and then bolted for the door. He had a firm grip on me, and I was stopped in my tracks.

"I promise. No funny stuff. Scouts honor."

My skin was prickling, and I bristled at the large hand keeping me from...

From what? I question myself silently.

Just for a moment, I relented, and seeing me relax a little, Cowboy tried again.

"Look, I'm not going to take advantage of you. I can see you are fit to be tied. I'm offering refuge from the storm for a night, but don't get any ideas, or I'll have to hog tie you."

I glanced at the speeding ticket in my partially open purse, and heaved a troubled sigh. He could see that I was defeated.

"Wait right here. Let me pay the bar tab and I'll meet you right back here," he ordered and began to walk off, but then turned back in one step.

"Give me your keys," he demanded. He held out his hand, palm up, and I realized I was less afraid of him than I was of driving drunk and furious, so I dug into my bag and handed over the keys.

Cowboy walked away, without a backwards glance, and I banged my head against the wall, wondering how I got myself into this fix. I pulled out my cross, palmed it, and muttered a prayer under my breath,

Stay with me Joey. I need you, my angel.

Cowboy returned and, wordlessly, took my hand. I froze, and wrenched my fingers from his, but he just smiled softly and opened the door for me.

I slipped into the seat of his truck, with some unease, but he was careful to keep his words soft and his movements slow. I smiled to myself, briefly thinking, First battle won, but remembering that he still had my keys.

Then, finally, I took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling like it may be the first time I had breathed all night.

"What's that ya got there?" His eyes were on my hands.

"Nothing. None of your damned," I ground out, but my voice trailed off as I realized that Cowboy had been nothing but kind to me, and likely didn't deserve my wrath, so I struggled for a slightly kinder reply,

"Never mind. Just keep your eyes on the road, Cowboy."

Just then, a smile lit up his face.

"Okay, little miss. We're home."

He unlocked the door and held it open for me, and I stepped inside his log cabin trepidatiously.

"Don't be afraid. Just make yourself to home," he said, as he hit the lights.

I stood in the middle of the room, rooted to one spot, with my thoughts racing; wondering how many bedrooms he had, and how many beds, but there was something comforting about the place.

He gestured toward the couch, with a bowing motion, his arm outstretched, and it brought a smile to me.

"Nice to see your pretty smile, little miss."

Assailed with the rage and pain that brought me here, the smile died on my lips.

"I'm going to get wood for the fire. Wait here, I'll be back in a minute.

But I didn't really hear him. I was lost in reliving my last experience of you. I sat silently, on the edge of the couch, as he went back outside and reentered again; arms filled to capacity with logs.

He lit the fire and I watched him make his way into the kitchen, which seemed almost too small for his tall, stocky frame.

I hadn't taken notice earlier, of how he towered over me, and I was somewhat surprised that I wasn't astute enough to be very afraid of him.

After disappearing into the kitchen for some time, Cowboy reappeared with two drinks.

Approaching cautiously, he handed one to me. He took a chair facing me, and I was thinking, He seemed so relaxed, so comfortable. A feeling I couldn't fathom in that moment, and the air crackled in contrast to my tension.

I moved to sit on the floor, still silent, staring into the fire, with images of you in the arms of someone else assaulting me, and seeing the words I'd read in black and white: "Meet me at the Motel-6 near you." I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to force you from mind.

When I looked up, I realized that Cowboy was gone. Hearing kitchen noises, I got up and went to investigate. I found him in the kitchen with milk and Kahlua on the counter.

"You like mudslides," he asked cheerfully.

I nodded my approval, and returned to the floor in front of the fire, hugging my knees against several kinds of coldness, unable to stop shivering.

Cowboy returned with both drinks in hand. Sitting them down gingerly on the hearth, he joined me at my side; close enough to be touching, but making no move to put his arm around me.

I returned my attention to the flames, making a concerted effort to burn you from my soul, knowing I would happily leap into the flames, if it would drive the pictures from my eyes. Failing that, I began drinking, heavily enough to stay somewhat sedated.

"Want to talk about it," he asked without looking at me.

Dragging my thoughts back to the cowboy at my side, I stumbled,

"Huh? What?"

"Do you want to talk about it," he queried again.

I stared harder at the flames, and formed the only response I had,

"No."

"I realize that you are going through your own personal hell, little miss. Might help to talk about it."

His eyes were filled with compassion, but I had no voice for this yet. I drew a deep breath and hugged my knees tighter, while we sat together in silence. Cowboy didn't move, except to refill our drinks steadily and, when he last returned, he sat next to me, extending his arm around me.

"May I," he asked quietly, not taking his arm from around my waist.

I wasn't sure that I had it in me to care anymore. Declining to answer, I looked down into my glass, stirring the ice cubes with my little finger; a small but necessary distraction.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I grimaced slightly and replied, "I told you."

"Oh C'mon. Give a guy a break, okay? ‘Fucking force of nature that you don't want to fuck with tonight, Cowboy' is too long to fit on your driver's license!"

I could feel the amusement in his voice, and it made me giggle at the picture of us; me there in the bar, so small at all of 5"1", verbally blasting this very tall, muscular cowboy, and it made me laugh out loud for a second.

Then he was smiling into my eyes,

"Well, let me in on it!" he grinned.

"I was just picturing our 'scene' at the bar," I smiled.

"Yeah, scared the hell outta me," he responded, nearly falling backwards laughing.

Finally, I was laughing, and I let him pull me a little bit closer, but then turned my eyes back to the hearth.

"Please don't do that." It was almost a whisper.

"Do what?" I queried, softly.

"Please don't retreat back into yourself. I just got you to laugh for the first time. I like your laugh, little miss."

Genuinely smiling then, and still playing with my ice cubes, I replied, "I like yours too, Cowboy."

Cowboy reached to tilt my chin up, and he placed a soft kiss to my lips. I was instantly aware of the heat given off by the fire, and the heat that he was giving off.

Suddenly assailed by nerves, and some guilt, I picked up my glass and jumped to my feet, but the floor rose up to meet me, and I was sprawled on the rug.

Laughing heartily, he helped me to a sitting position, and picked up our glasses.

"Better let me get those, little miss." And he took our glasses into the kitchen.

I felt terribly foolish, and the color rushed to my cheeks. I was stunned at the effect that hard liquor had on me, thinking, Boy, Wild Turkey's some tricky shit!

I made a serious effort to stand, but failed again. Watching from a distance, Cowboy quickly returned and, gently but firmly, pushed me back down to the carpet.

"I told you. Don't get any ideas, or I'll have to hog tie you," he teased me. Still blushing furiously, I teased him back,

"You wouldn't!"

Cowboy retorted,

"Wouldn't I?"

Without thinking, I responded,

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me," he stated, cutting me off.

His tone was now dead serious and his eyes burned into mine. I hesitated for a long moment before breaking the tension.

"You're such a kidder, Cowboy!"

"And you are no match for me, little miss," he replied staunchly.

There was no anger in his voice, just an authoritative determination that floored me. I was opening and closing my mouth, trying to form words that would convince him that he doesn't scare me; something that would make him believe I was in complete control, regardless of what condition I was in.

So I squared my shoulders and leveled my gaze at him,

"I can take you anytime, anywhere, Cowboy," I stated, gritting my teeth for effect.

I held his stare with my own, not even daring to blink, and then he stood, hauling me over his shoulder in one swoop of his arms. He walked toward the bedroom as I landed fists to his back, squirming and pushing against him, but fighting a losing battle against his strength and my inebriation. With nothing left but my voice, I used it,

"I'll scream," I threatened, to the best of my drunken ability.

"So scream," he responded, with not a trace of intimidation.

"Wh, What?"

"You're in the woods, little miss. No one will hear you."

He threw me down on the bed as I sputtered, and I fought for a dignified position, never taking my eyes off his.

"You can glare at me all you like, but you better do as I tell you," he insisted.

My rage returned, full force,

"You arrogant! Hateful! You actually think! What gives you the right to," but my voice trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

"What gives me the right is that you are my charge for the night, and somebody's got to control you."

His slightly amused tone grated on my nerves and I locked my jaw. Chin set defiantly, I prepared for an all out war. Cowboy peeled off his shirt, walking purposefully towards me, and I clenched my fists.

"Give up, little miss. You can't win."

He was calm and controlled, in the face of my frayed nerves and fuming ire, and it grated on me.

With one more step, I lunged at him, making full-body-weight contact, but he didn't stumble. He picked me up and dumped me back on the bed. Then he held me down at my shoulders, warning,

"Don't move."

His angry eyes searched mine for compliance, and then let go. For a moment I wondered if not moving was the better option; knowing that I could barely stand, but when he returned with restraints, I pushed back onto the bed and prepared for an all-out no-holds- barred fight-to-the-death. Seeing blood in my eyes, he smiled, derisively,

"Normally, I like a fiery woman in my bed, but you are a little too much of a handful, little miss," and he leaned toward me.

Unable to free myself from the grip of inebriation, I threw punches, flailing, slapping at him, and cursing a blue streak.

"Fuck this, Cowboy! Fuck you!"

"If you must," he responded with a smirk that I wanted to slap from his face. Then I suddenly felt my palm connect and I was filled with instant gratification.

"God that was good," I screamed, but his smirk turned into a grin.

"You're a little spitfire. I didn't expect to have this much fun tonight, but the fun is over, little miss," he stated matter- of-factly.

That said, he lunged with precision, catching my foot midstream to his family jewels.

"Nice try," he said, without emotion, and then dragged me to the edge of the bed, while I struggled with what little might I had left.

"You won't get away with this," I screamed but, somewhere inside me, I realized the futility of my argument. Nevertheless, I persisted.

"Stop now Cowboy, while you still can," I warned loudly.

Then I threw myself into a last-ditch effort; twisting and writhing, trying to escape, until he slipped restraints over my wrists and ankles, with a noted certain ease.

He bound me to the bed, and I fought, futilely; knowing that it was a losing battle, but struggling nonetheless, and knowing I wouldn't go down without marking him, and fighting for my life.

Cowboy held me down firmly; letting me push and pull; trying the restraints with everything I was worth, and writhing in his grip.

He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, and the last of my fight drained. We stayed like that for a long moment; his lips to mine, murmuring softly,

"Let it go now, little miss."

Suddenly, I could feel the fire all the way in this room, and I collapsed, surrendering to his kisses. With none of this making sense, he deepened the kiss and I panicked,

"No! No! "Nooo," I shrieked, "Stop, Cowboy!"

"Shhhhh," he whispered, kissing me gently, and I was completely confused. I was lost in tormented emotions, and my voice got smaller.

"No," I groaned at him.

"Shhh," he continued, "Let it go now."

"No, I can't. No, Cowboy," I whispered weakly.

Gently, he repeated, "Shhh. Don't fight anymore. Let it go, little miss."

I nearly crumbled, as his lips set me on fire, but I wasn't going down without one last war. I fought, for the final time, flailing and lashing out, as best I could in restraints, and he let me thrash it out.

"Shhh. Let it go now. Don't fight me," he whispered, again and again, as he kissed me tenderly.

Cowboy stripped away my clothing, still whispering as I squirmed lethargically.

"Shhhh. Don't fight me. Don't fight anymore." His voice was soothing and seductive.

"No," I choked out my reply.

"Shhh," he continued.

Then he kissed me deeply, stealing my breath, and my blood began to boil. Without breaking the kiss, he tugged the last piece of fabric from me, and cupped my face in his palms. I felt his stare lay waste to my determination, as he stroked the curve of my waist.

Fire coursed through me at his touch, and I fought for some logic beyond my exhausted, drunken haze; trying to find the surface to break through.

Again he whispered, "Shhh don't anymore. Shhh."

He moved slowly then, standing to strip from his jeans, and stretched out to lie against me. His hardness against my thigh was nearly more than I could stand. Cowboy parted my lips for a deeply hungry kiss and, finally, I returned his kisses with passion.

Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with a need to feel his hands on me; all of me, and then I did; his fingers and palms explored me; squeezing my breasts lightly, caressing the flat of my belly, as his lips trailed fire down my neck and shoulders.

And I was lost in him; in what I was feeling, in what he was making me feel, as my body betrayed me; my soaking wet pussy, so ready to receive him.

Cowboy slid his fingertips down my curves, and stroked my womanhood, tormenting me, as a sizzling heat rankled through me. Then he pressed a finger to me, and stroked my slit, up and down, until my clitoris was a hard nub.

My breasts ached with every rise and fall of breath, and his full lips suckled me, tonguing my most intimate secrets expertly. He teased my nipples into hard pebbles; torturing me, as my labored breathing came faster.

He felt every inch of me, leaving nothing untouched; with his hands, his fingers and his lips. Moving lower, he kissed me down the inside of one thigh, and up the other, until his hot breath came to rest at my burning cunt, and then he hesitated, waiting.

And I broke down and cried; pouring out my exhaustion, confusion and frustration, finally surrendering tears I had sworn I never would succumb to.

Cowboy wrapped me in his embrace, speaking softly, comforting me, until the tears subsided. Even then, I was still on fire for him.

Cowboy waited, until I regained my senses, and then drew circles around my clitoris, eliciting tiny whimpers, torn from the soul of me, and then touched his finger to me there and spread my aching lips.

He slid his finger up and down my slit, as he slowly pushed me closer to delirium, and he suckled my clit as he stroked my pussy, with the tip of his tongue trailing fire over my extremities, and drawing small cries from me.

His hands held my hips in place, and he drove his tongue into my smoldering center; darting in and out, driving me straight into the teeth of a white-hot illicit frenzy. Then he sucked my clitoris harder, more insistently; urgently devouring me, and then pressed his thick finger into my wetness.

I cried out needing more; needing him to fill me with all of his hardness, needing to feel the full, thick length of him impaling me; needing him to quench this illicit desire,

"Oh yes! Cowboy, yes!"

Then he slipped two fingers into my craven cunt, fingering me slowly, building my desire into a destructive firestorm.

Unsatisfied with less than my everything, his fingers wiggled, hard and deep inside of me, and then he closed his fist, twisting his wrist, and moving his fist deep inside me, and then pulled all the way out, and he waited.

My eyes flew open wide, startled at the loss of sensation; feeling empty and bereft.

Cowboy kneeling between my legs, locked his eyes on mine; holding my gaze with his own, waiting for my unspoken acknowledgement; long enough to know that I wanted this; that this fate was my choice, my desire, and my need.

He watched me; his eyes dark with desire, raking my body, as I unwittingly arched my spine, and threw my head back, frenzied. I spread my legs, aching to receive him.

Cowboy pressed his fist to my pussy, pausing at my sharp intake of breath, and then claimed me in a deep kiss, inhaling my screams.

He used a knuckle, sliding it up and down my soaking wet slit, mercilessly, stroking me with the other. My clitoris throbbed with primitive desire, and again, he deepened the kiss.

Embracing me with one hand, he used the other to push his fist into my white-hot center; slowly pushing and pulling, into and out of me, eliciting whimpers and moans; torn from the soul of me, and a cry filled the air that I didn't recognize as my own,

"Please!"

He slammed his fist into me then, and I screamed again, startled by the ferocity, and Cowboy crushed me to him, inhaling my protests, and waiting for the electric fulmination to claim me.

The immediate impact started an inferno that usurped my ability to reason, and Cowboy watched my every expression, ensuring that I was ready for this.

I trembled beneath him, and my hips thrust up, seeking a fulfillment that only he could offer, affording him easy access, with the power of his first impact still searing my body, and singeing my veins.

He paused, drinking in my longing, and feeling me hunger for more; watching passion, longing and pain, twist my features, knowing that I needed to possess it, here and now.

Cowboy drew back, forcing my legs open wider. He wedged one knee against my thigh, anchoring me in place, and slammed my pussy harder, eliciting a startled cry, and then began a rhythm, building my passion into crescendo.

He cupped my buttocks, holding me elevated, to gain deeper access, fucking me intensely and absorbing my reactions. He pummeled the depths of my illicit desire, until everything in me contracted, and then he stopped.

Kissing me deeply, he inhaled my frustrated scream, and held me lovingly, gently, until my breathing slowed and he felt the calm return to my body.

Cowboy positioned himself lower. Cupping and kneading my buttocks, and breathing hotly against my craven cunt, and then lifted my volatile need to his lips. He parted me with his tongue, scorching me there, crushing my extremities to his face, and I wrapped my legs around his head.

His tongue laved my clitoris, ruthlessly; forcing me into a delirium I've never known before, and I was squirming and writhing with renewed vigor.

Then he dragged his wet fingers to my lips and then I suckled them; slowly drawing his fingers into my mouth, as he pushed the head of his cock to my wanting exigency. He barely entered me, at first, and I closed my eyes, drawing on any strength I might have left.

Finally, he thrusted his rock-hard manhood into me; fast, deep, and hard, as he kissed away the scream rising in my throat. Then, slowly, he started to withdraw, teasing and taunting me, forcing me to arch my back, trying to pull him deeper. Then he stopped, and I was too far gone to understand, until he asked,

"What do you want, little miss," he asked, knowing that this evening's trauma was the furthest thing from my mind now. He was asking me to say the words; to actually admit that I craved him wildly.

Having reached the end of my tether, and longing for him with a vengeance, I cried out,

"Fuck me, Cowboy! Damn it all,'Fuck me, please!"

Again he drove his steel-hard cock into me, as deeply as he could; burying himself up to his balls in my wet, sucking cunt; thrusting harder with every stroke, pummeling me over and over, and I was twisting and gyrating beneath him.

My whole body vibrated beneath him as my orgasm was building, and I let myself feel every ounce of his intensity; letting him push me beyond myself, until my scream split the air and he shuddered on top of me.

The full, firm, length of him throbbed hard inside of me, as my pussy contracted, pulsating around his cock, with both of us still pushing and thrusting, refusing to stop until we were too spent to continue.

Finally, he claimed me in a kiss that enveloped my soul; gently clipping my wings in that moment. Holding me tightly to him, he rubbed my wrists, kissing the marks left by the restraints.

We both quickly entwined, wrapping our limbs around each other; clinging to each other, we let our breathing slow. Lying like that, on the edge of sleep, the sun rose up in the window, as a new and unexpected day began.

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