We’ve been all soft grunts and whispered directions and heavy breaths until he lets out a mighty shout, squeezing tight as he kisses me hard, warm cum spreading between our bellies.
I’m still kissing him as I start to tip over the edge, sliding my arms under his shoulders to hold him tight, whispering, then letting loose a grunted “Fuck, fuck, fuck” in his ear.
I go boneless on him for a few seconds, enjoying his all-encompassing hug. When the silence becomes a little awkward, I get up to take care of the condom and wipe the rapidly cooling cum off our bellies with an old T-shirt. He’s laid out on the bed, equally spent.
“Scooch over,” I say, exhaustion hitting me.
He complies, and I lie on my side, throwing my arm across him, more or less immediately falling asleep as he anchors me with his powerful arm. My last conscious thought is, mm, cuddly and warm.
I’m not ashamed to admit I needed this more than I realized.
3
COLT
God, I so fucking do not need this right now. I check the clock on the side table. It’s three-thirty-five in the morning, and I’ve got Warwick slung across me, sleeping peacefully.
Why do I do this to myself? Why am I sleeping with this man?
I only came to Rebel Sky because Luke needed my support. Wick and I had immediate chemistry and slept together. Not unusual, though he’s certainly more handsome than my usual hookup.
Only…we kept hooking up.
I’d love to say that I stayed out of loyalty to Luke or just to ensure that he was being well taken care of after everything went down with that dickhead ex-boyfriend of his. But the fact of the matter is that Luke’s retirement from the rodeo put me out of a job.
Luckily—or not, as the case may be—the nice folks at Rebel Sky were looking for a replacement hand, and they needed somebody good and steady. Thanks to Luke’s recommendation, I was hired on the spot.
That’s when the real trouble started.
I normally don’t have an opportunity for repeats, and now I see why it’s such a bad idea. Warwick is the epitome of the unavailable man, and I am, regrettably, in love with him.
He understands the animals, loves this ranch, and has a loyalty to the Goodnight family like I’ve never seen before. I might not know the details, but I know the signs, and this isn’t just some perpetual bachelor who genuinely doesn’t want a relationship.
I see the way he looks at the couples on the ranch. Something had to happen to him to make him think that love was only pain. In my alternate reality, he’d never experience pain, only pleasure, only acceptance, only love.
Talk about Stupid with a capitalS.
I was so sad and forlorn, having spent another day convincing Destry that sobriety is, in fact, worth it, and to walk into the reception and find Wick just as sad and forlorn…maybe it was inevitable that we’d fall into bed together.
I foolishly hoped it would scratch an itch, satisfy an urgentnowthat I could then move on from. Yeah, that didn’t work at all. I was simply throwing more kerosene on a fire that was already well past needing an accelerant.
Moving on from him is starting to seem impossible, and last night definitely made it worse. He’s still wrapped around me, and I’m so tangled up in my emotions for him I don’t even know where to begin to undo the knot.
Aaaand now I have to pee. Frankly, I need to escape this room before I break my own heart.
Eh, it’s too late for my heart, but maybe I can still save my bladder.
I’m stealthy as I combat roll away from him, then crawl out of bed, grabbing my clothes along the way. I streak across the landing, and just as I open the door to my room, Abel, the newest ranch hand, slides open the barn door.
I slip into my room before he sees me, then stop at the sound of multiple voices. I crack open the door and tilt my head at what I see.
Abel is flanked by his ex-girlfriend on one side and Oliver, the owner of the Broken Oak, on the other. All three of them seem to be a little bit drunk as they make their way up the stairs to his room.
Abel kisses Oliver as his girlfriend—Trina, I think—kisses up his neck. I scratch the back of my head. The preoccupied trio makes their way into Abel’s room, thankfully shutting the door behind them.
Over the next hour, I learn that Abel has a big sexy cock, Oliver has a tight asshole, and Abel’s girlfriend’s name is actually Taylor. Oh, and she’s got surprisingly good oral skills, according to Oliver.
Later in the morning, I make it down to the kitchen to grab some coffee, and Warwick is already here, plating up breakfast. We pretend not to notice as Oliver sneaks out the door. I do a pretty good job of it until I catch Warwick’s shoulders shaking from laughter, and we both lose it. Our laughter only intensifies when Abel comes strutting down the staircase.
