I’ve been lonelier than I ever let myself admit. I built my life on being the rough one, the quiet one, the man who keeps his own counsel and expects nothing good from anyone, least of all a woman. Trouble always seemed to come easier than comfort did.
But now, sitting here and watching her move around my kitchen like she belongs to it, to me, something hollow opens up in my chest. A craving I thought I buried years ago. The need for a woman’s warmth. Her sweetness. Her smile aimed at me like I’m worth the effort.
And there Joelle is, perfect, soft, barefoot, and completely unaware she’s turning my whole damn world inside out.
How’s a cowboy supposed to stand up to temptation like that?
Even a man with an iron will would crack clean in half under this kind of pressure.
And me?
I never stood a chance.
It’s obvious by the way her breasts move that she’s not wearing a bra. The slow sway when she reaches out, and the soft bounce when she shifts her weight, give it away. Every few minutes, she stops to adjust herself, her palm grazing one side like it’s aching again. I know it must be. It’s been hours since I wrapped my lips around her leaking nipples and tasted her sweet milk.
My cock’s been hard for most of the waking hours since.
She slept in the spare bedroom last night because I didn’t want to scare her away too soon. God only knows how I found the backbone to resist her sweetness.
She’s perfect.
And she’s totally unaware.
Joelle starts a pot of coffee, checks the fridge, pulls out eggs and bacon like she’s already memorized where everything is, while I sit at the kitchen table, legs spread, boots planted wide, and justwatch.
She glances over her shoulder once, her blonde curls bouncing, and catches me staring. Her cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink, but it’s her raised brow that makes me want to bend her over my knee and spank her plump, juicy ass.
“You like a big breakfast?” she asks.
I shrug. “Sure do.”
Joelle smirks a little and turns back to the stove. “I know how to earn my keep.”
Inside, I want to lean across the table and tell her,You already have.But that would be the cowboy who’s all bark and no bite. The man I’ve been trying to be. Instead, I ask, “You settle in okay?”
“Bed was comfortable. Sheets were a dream.” She smiles like every nice thing about this place is a surprise.
“Only the best I could find in town,” I say.
She laughs. “The shower’s got pressure like a fire hose.”
“Helps when you’re caked in horse shit,” I grunt.
Her grin hits me like a shot of whiskey to the gut. I think about the first taste I took of her—sweet and warm—and how fast she came with only my mouth teasing. How loud she was and howgratefulher body was when I relieved it.
“You comfortable?” I ask, trying to sound casual, not like a man starving for another taste.
She pauses. “I’m… full again.”
I study the curve of her ass shifting under my shirt as she bends to open the oven, imagining it gripped in my palm. The way her hair sticks to the back of her neck, damp with sweat makes me want to lick her there. Bite. Grip while I fuck. I wonder if her nipples are leaking again already. And I wonder how long I can keep my hands to myself.
Not long.
But she isn’t ready for everything else I want now she’s under my roof. She’s willing to give me her tits in exchange for relief, but what about the rest of her?
She flips the bacon, and the smell makes my stomach growl. She hears it and smirks again, shaking her head like I’m the wild one.
I want to give this woman everything: pleasure so intenseshe cries out loud enough to disturb the horses, home comforts so she never wants to leave, a role on this ranch that will bring her happiness, and discipline so she feels safe.
