Changing the subject, she says, “There’s a new foal in the barn. One of Mary’s.”
I grin. “Well, now I’ve got to see her.”
I’m still smiling when I step outside. Sam, Liam, and Will are working on fences around the ranch, and part of me hopes I’ll run into Will.
The barn smells like hay, sweat, and summer heat. The kind of scent that settles in your skin and doesn’t let go. But then I turn a corner near the tack room and runrightinto Will.
He catches me by the waist, steadying me, eyes already dark as he glances over my shoulder toward the house.
“Careful, sugar,” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear. “Someone might think you’re sneaking out here to find me.”
My pulse spikes. “Aren’t you supposed to be fixing the fence?”
His mouth curves. “We are. Just needed to grab some more barbwire.”
I step back. Try to. But his hand catches mine, pulls me behind the row of stalls, out of sight.
“Will—”
“Shh.” He presses me back against the wooden beam. The air is thick with heat and dust. “You gonna tell me you don’t want this?”
“Sam’s out there! And Liam,” I hiss, barely able to finish the sentence before his mouth is on mine.
It’s hot. It’s desperate. It’swrong.
And I am all in.
He kisses me like he’s starving, like he doesn’t care if the whole damn ranch hears us. His hands slide under my shirt, gripping my waist, dragging me closer until there’s not an inch of air between us.
“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he growls. “Wearing those little cutoff shorts, smiling like you don’t know exactly what that does to me.”
I gasp as his hands slide lower, gripping my thighs. “I wasn’t teasing?—”
“Oh, baby, youwere.” He lifts me effortlessly, spinning me so I’m bent over a haybale, lips finding my neck. “And now you’re gonna take what you’ve been asking for.”
He pushes my shorts down, his fingers finding me already wet, already pulsing.
“You get like this just from being around me?” he mutters, breath hot. “You’re soaked.”
“Will, someone might come out here?—”
“Let them,” he all but purrs. “Let them see what a good girl you are for me.”
He frees himself with one hand, the other wrapped around the back of my neck as he lines up and thrusts into me deep and hard.
I cry out, because it feels so good.
He grunts, holding still for one breathless beat. “Want me to put a baby in you, Phern? Fuck you so good out here in the baby makin’ barn?”
I dig my fingers into the hay.
“Please,” I beg.
He pulls back and slams in again. “Hold on, sugar. I’m not taking it slow.”
He pounds into me, the hay rustling beneath us, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the barn like a warning shot. Every thrust is harder, rougher, riskier.
“If Sam catches us—” I start, voice shaking.
