“I’m yours,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Only yours.”
Then he holds me tight, his hips rolling against mine in slow, deliberate strokes. Each thrust drags his cock against that sweet, sensitive spot inside me. His hands are everywhere—cupping my jaw, tangling in my hair, holding me steady.
“No one compares to you, Sawyer,” he says, making sparks race up my spine.
It’s the contrast that undoes me—the bull rider who could break a man in two is touching me like I’m breakable, fucking me like I’m the only thing he wants in this world. Praising me in the sexiest god damn way.
His breath mingles with mine. His thrusts grow deeper, harder, his cock hitting that spot over and over until I’m trembling and on the edge of something fucking magnificent. My orgasm builds, slow and steady, until it’s all I can think about, all I can feel.
“Tristan, I’m about to?—”
He catches my mouth in a kiss, swallowing my moans as I shatter around him, my pussy clenching tight around his cock, using him for every drop.
“That’s it, baby,” he exhales hard, fingers digging into my hips, and drives up into me one last time like he’s not letting me forget that I belong to him. He spills inside me, and holds me through it. His arms are wrapped tight around me as he kisses me in a way that I feel deep in my soul.
We stay like that, tangled together, his cock still buried inside me, both of us breathing hard, trembling, spent. And as everything spins around me, I know I’ll never forget this—the way he touched me, fucked me, took care of me, like I was the only thing that matters to him.
I’ve never felt this kind of pull, this fire, this ache—not with anyone. And with that truth settling like a brand on my heart, I know—I’m falling. Hard.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my voice trembling, and he smirks that fucking grin that makes my knees weak.
thirty
Trouble
I should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let me have one quiet moment with her. Not after the naughty things we just did under this pergola. So when I hear a low voice bark,“Sawyer?”I already know I’m about to die.
And not by a bull like I always thought.
By brother.
Sawyer freezes against my chest, barely breathing. Her eyes are wide and colorless in the darkness—not their normal blue, but the same blue that reminds me of my granddaddy's favorite pick-up truck. She digs her fingers into my bicep, panicking.
The footsteps get closer. I can see a flicker of the moonlight through the slats of the pergola. We’re exposed, really—one bad angle and he’d see us together. Sawyer’s shirt is halfway up, my belt is hangin’ loose. Her heart is beatin’ off the rails. I feel it through my ribs, out of control.
“Sawyer!” I hear him hiss her name again.
She bites my shoulder, hard. I don’t react. Instead, I shiftto clamp her mouth with my palm—her lips are soft and hot. She licks my hand just to be an asshole, and I whisper, “You want him to find us like this?”
She grins. “He’ll kill you,” she mouths.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“Not funny.” She untangles herself quietly, fixes her bra, and adjusts her shirt. I adjust myself and zip up, but not before she slaps my wrist as I work my belt—too loud, she warns.
The footsteps pass. He grumbles something about her always wandering off, and then I watch him fade down the path. Maybe I should feel more guilty than I do. But I don’t right now. Being with her makes me feel alive, free, like me.
When he’s gone, Sawyer drops her face into her hands. “We havegotto be more careful.”
I lean against the post, arms crossed. “You’re the one who followed me out here.”
She huffs, still smoothing her hair, her hands just barely shaking. “Yeah, well—you had the backwards hat on. Did the whole sexy, mysterious thing. Not my fault.”
I grin, softer this time. I like her like this—flustered and honest. “So, you’re sayin’ I’m sexy?”
Her cheeks flush, but her voice stays sharp. “I’m saying if he catches us, we’re both dead.”
I push off the post, step closer, my voice low. “Worth it.”
