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shimmering down her slender back.  When she puts it back on her head, her eyes find mine and she winks at me from under the brim.  I could easily drop my guitar, jump off the stage and spread her out on that bull and eat her like dessert.  But before I can really finish the thought, she reaches down for the leather strap and nods for the bull operator to wind it up.
    The rotation starts out slow, like the operator is trying to match the beat of the song. Jenna’s body moves in perfect time with it.  It’s like everything between us and around us is in sync. 
    It’s almost painful to watch her ride that damn bull.  Her back arches with each buck of the machine and her hips swivel fluidly, like she’s connected to it.  Her cheeks are flushed, her lips are parted just a little and I can see the tip of her tongue grazing her teeth.  I hope she’s thinking what I’m thinking—that the only thing better than this would be if it was me between her legs. 
    The operator increases the speed and Jenna’s body shifts and sways in time with it.  All too clearly, I can imagine us in front of a mirror with her moving just like that on top of me.  Up and down on my cock, her thighs clamped around my sides, her creamy body squeezing me.
    My jeans get tight.  Real tight.  As the song winds down and the operator slows the bull again, Jenna glances up at me.  The look she gives me says she knows what I’m thinking.  And I mutter again, “Holy shit, it’s gonna be a long night!”
     

CHAPTER NINE- Jenna
     
    After getting so turned-on by Rusty watching me ride the bull, it’s all I can do to keep my composure for the rest of the night.  I want him so bad I ache with it.
    But stay composed I do.  Somehow, I manage to keep it together while cranking up the heat. It’s my mission to make the want as painful for Rusty as it is for me.  And every time I look at him, I know it’s working a little more.  The crotch of his jeans is probably extended to the tensile limit of denim.  I can’t stop the satisfied smirk that comes to my lips as I think of it. 
    I glance over at Rusty as he watches another girl ride the bull.  As if sensing my eyes and my thoughts on him, he turns those bright-blues on me.   I wink sassily at him and he raises one eyebrow.
    I make myself turn away after that. I’m tempted to go order another shot when I hear the bartender ring the bell that signals last call. I resist the urge because part of my deal with Daryl in him letting us “borrow” Lucky’s tonight was that I’d lock up after closing and then come back bright and early in the morning to meet the truck when it comes to collect the mechanical bull.  The last thing I need is to be shitfaced while trying to secure a bar that isn’t mine.
    Less than an hour later, the house lights flash three times in a row and the lights over the stage shut off, my signal to start shooing people out the door.  Luckily, the band stopped playing about an hour ago, so no one cares about the stage anymore. 
    When the bar is empty, but for the little old man who operates the mechanical bull, I give him a fifty dollar tip and push him out into the lot, too, flipping the lock behind him so I can make my way around, cutting off lights before I go home.
    I find OFF switches for every light in the place except the one over the dance floor, the dance floor that, for tonight, was occupied by a mechanical bull.  I walk behind the bar, searching for a hidden switch.  I look through the small storage and break room in back.  Still no luck.  The only thing I find back there is the radio, which is clearly labeled LEAVE ON, but no other light switches.  I decide to check the other side of the building, somewhere near the stage, hoping I can find the controls there.
    As I round the corner back out into the bar, I come to a sudden stop, a gasp bubbling up in my chest.  There’s someone sitting on top of the bull. 
    I’m only startled for a few seconds,