I swallow, the fingers of one hand threading into his damp hair, the other moving down his body, sliding over his swim trunks. His dick is long and thick and oh my God, he’s huge.
Dylan unleashes a strangled curse. “This isn’t going to last very long if you keep touching me like that,” he says, taking my hands and pinning them above my head as he slips out of his swim trunks. I’m used to being the one in control, but the weight of Dylan’s body on mine makes a fierce need throb between my thighs.
“You want this, blondie?” he grits out, nudging my legs further apart, pressing his tip against my opening. “You want me inside you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, no hesitation.
His dick nudges my entrance and I hold my breath, waiting to feel him push inside. But just as he starts to move, a series of loud barks carries through the still air—excited and continuous.
“Fuck,” Dylan hisses, drawing back a fraction. “If Buck’s barking like that, it means my family’s home. And knowing Chase, he’ll be heading out to look for us any minute.”
I groan. “What is it with us and interruptions?” My body is still thrumming, my skin flushed and aching for more.
He pauses, eyes locked on mine. There’s need there, but something else, too. Something deeper that makes my heart race for a very different reason. “What do they say about something being worth the wait?”
And then his mouth is on mine again, urgent and full of promise, telling me this isn’t over. He pulls me up and we scramble to get dressed. Dylan throws me his dry tee to put over my damp cutoffs. My legs are still shaky, my head still spinning from the best orgasm of my life. I don’t think I can walk straight, let alone think straight. But a minute later, we’re heading through the tree line and back to the ranch.
Dylan glances sideways at me. “You OK?” he asks, voice softer now.
I start to nod, but stop. I can’t keep avoiding asking questions because I’m too scared of what the answers might be. “Earlier, when we were fighting, what did you mean when you said ‘we need to make decisions’? Because Ron’s nephew, Travis?—”
“Is coming by to lend a hand a few days a week,” Dylan says. “At first, anyway.”
I shake my head, tension knotting my stomach. “If you think you can manage on your own with only a part-time ranch hand, then think again because…” My voice trails off as I take in the amusement forming on Dylan’s face.
“Maybe we wouldn’t fight so much if you let me finish a goddamn sentence.”
I bite back a smile and roll my eyes as I pull an imaginary zip over my lips.
“The ‘we’ I was referring to,” Dylan continues as his hand takes mine, fingers tangling together, “was you and me. You know what needs to be done here. I’ve got a lot to learn, I know. And I haven’t exactly been the best help, so I thought if I was going to ask you to stay, I’d better sweeten the deal. With Travis picking up some of the basic jobs a few days a week, it will free you—us—to make those decisions you so carefully listed off your hand earlier.”
“Oh,” is all I can say. “I thought you were replacing me.”
“I mean… you did tell me you were leaving,” Dylan teases and I swipe his arm. “You said you had plenty of other offers.”
“Because you were being a jerk,” I reply.
I wait for the next biting retort, but instead he scrunches his eyes shut. “Maybe I was.”
It’s the last thing I expected him to say. “Maybe I was, too,” I reply. The rest of the words I want to say stick in my throat. A silence draws out and I know he’s waiting for my answer. I want to tell him how much I love this ranch, this work, these horses. How, of course, I want to stay. And yet, I can’t find my voice and I’m not sure why.
“Look,” he says. “I’m not saying running the ranch together is going to be easy, and I know you’ve got Madison to think about, so I want you to know that if you don’t want to stay, that’s OK. I just figured if we were going to make something real out of Oakwood, we needed to build something thatwecould manage. Together.”
My eyes widen, mouth dropping open. Run Oakwood together?
Waking every morning to the sound of the horses in the paddocks, the sun on the mountains, the smell of fresh hay, and Dylan bringing me a coffee. Working alongside him. It sends abuzz of something warm through me. But a cold fear chases that buzz.
“And what about this? Us?” I ask, hating the way I hold my breath but needing to know where I stand.
We’re at the edge of the trees, the paddocks and ranch in sight. Warmth spreads through me at this view and how much I love it. Dylan stops walking, tugging me into his arms. “I don’t have all the answers,” he says. “But I know I can’t stop thinking about you, and whatever this is we’re doing, I want to see where it goes. But if you want me to back away, I will. There’s the ranch and there’s us and it’s not a package deal, Iz. If you want to carry on working here and for us to go back to…”
“Hating each other?” I finish for him. I shake my head, but no words follow. Already my thoughts are spiraling.
What if Dylan makes reckless decisions again? What if he gets bored of the day-in-day-out of ranching without the thrill of the game he’s spent his life chasing? Or worse—what if I screw it up? An image of standing on the trailer roof last night flashes in my thoughts. I don’t exactly have the best track record with decision-making either. If I screw this up, it will crush Madison.
Dylan must see the hesitation on my face because his voice when he speaks is soft. “It’s fine if you need time to think. Or if you want to talk to Madison. I just want you to know that for me—I’m in. For the ranch and whatever this is between us. I’m in for it. I want you to stay.”
It should be the easiest yes I’ve ever uttered. Staying at Oakwood Ranch with these horses. Isn’t that what I wanted? But I can’t ignore the new fear whispering poison in my ear. Staying at the ranch doesn’t just mean staying with the horses anymore. It means facing whatever this is between me and Dylan. Staying means opening myself up to get hurt, and I’m not sure I can do that.
