Wilder doesn’t move right away. His hands slide up my sides, steadying me, his touch unexpectedly tender for someone who just wrecked me so thoroughly like he’s checking to be sure he didn’t injure me.
“Hell, Rosie,” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. I can’t even look back at him yet—I’m too dazed, my heart still racing like it might burst out of my chest.
Wilder Cameron.
Wilder-Sex Cameron is what he should be called because that? That might just be the wildest, most exhilarating thing I’ve ever experienced.
Still gripping the chair for stability, I let out a shaky laugh, my body tingling all over. “I’m not sure I can stand upright right now.” I mumble, my voice hoarse.
Wilder’s chuckle is smug, deep, and utterly infuriating in the best way. “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he says, pulling back slowly, carefully, as if he knows I need a moment to recover.
It’s not a bad thing. Not even close. And I have a feeling Wilder knows it too.
Chapter 10 – Teagan
“Hey. You seen Wilder? We need Daisy brought into the arena for her event.”
“Nah, boss. Let me go check the stables and try to find him.”
I shoot up from where I’m half-hovering over the chair, spinning around at the sound of the first voices we’ve heard echoing down the barn’s alleyway. My eyes go wide, frantic, and I glance at Wilder, who’s already back in his boxers and jeans, deftly fastening his belt buckle like he’s done this a hundred times before.
And I sure hope he hasn’t. Because something about what we just did felt sacred.
With a quick, calm efficiency that makes me feel like a clumsy mess in comparison, he tosses the used condom into the trash can in the corner. Then he presses a finger to his lips, his expression commanding silence. I freeze, heart hammering in my chest, as the voices drift past and eventually fade into the distance.
“They’re gone now,” he says, his voice low and even, like thiswhole thing is no big deal. He picks up my jeans and underwear from the floor and tosses them to me. “Get dressed, quick.”
I fumble to yank my clothes on, cheeks flushing as I try to match his cool demeanor. He steps toward me, his hands finding my waist with ease as he stoops to press a soft, lingering kiss to my lips as soon as my jeans are buckled.
“I should go before they come back looking in here,” he murmurs, his warm breath brushing against my cheek. His eyes flicker with something more than just lust, something softer, as he pulls back and grins at me. “But before I do… can I get your number, Teagan Keating? I’d really like to see you again. Soon.”
A grin stretches across my face as I look up at him, feeling lighter than I have in years. “You may,” I tease, brushing my fingers against his chest. “But what are you doing after the rodeo tonight?”
“You,” he responds without hesitation, his voice full of promise. He kisses me again, and goosebumps ripple across my skin like a tidal wave.
With one last look toward the door, he checks the hallway. “Looks clear. I’ll text you when I’m done here tonight. Want to come back to my place?”
I nod, biting my lip to keep from grinning like a fool, and slip out the door. My boots click softly against the barn’s wooden floors as I dart down the long corridor, then across the dirt path that leads into the rodeo arena. Exiting at section 10, I start making my way back toward my sister and her friends in section 70, a giddy smile plastered across my face.
I feel alive—more alive than I’ve felt in years. I can’t believe I almost let this pass me by just because Wilder wasn’t sure about starting something with me before I left for school. Even with my impending departure in a few days, I know this weekend spent wrapped up in him will be worth every second.
As I near section 50, still smiling like I’ve won the lottery, a flashof brown hair catches my eye. My steps falter because the guy standing there, looking calm and confident looks exactly like Wilder.
There’s no way he beat me inside.
“Hey!” I call out, my curiosity getting the better of me.
The man turns, his sharp eyes sweeping over me as he leans casually against one of the arena’s pillars, a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Whoa.
He’s Wilder’s twin—or at least, his doppelgänger. The resemblance is uncanny, but his vibe is completely different. Instead of Wilder’s rugged cowboy look, this guy is sporting an Atlanta Falcons jersey stretched across his broad chest, black shorts slung low on his hips, and a baseball cap tilted over his face. A pitcher of beer dangles casually from his hand as he smirks at me, completely at ease.
“You're not Wilder?” I ask, confused.
He smiles back at me. “Ah, shucks. I was hoping you were calling for me because we’ve met before, not because you thought I was Wilder," he chuckles. “I’m Cody Cameron. Wilder’s twin brother.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t know he had a twin,” I respond, shaking his outstretched hand.
