Izzy’s long legs are locked around my waist as I thrust into her. Each movement causes a shot of pleasure through me that borders on unbearable. The only sounds are the creak of the workbench and Izzy’s gasps. I stare down at her, naked before me, her hair falling in messy waves. Her green eyes meet mine, sending a fresh surge of need coursing through me; the next thrust pushes deeper still, making us both cry out.
I can feel myself stepping closer to the edge, every thrust pulling me tighter. I could give in, let go right now, but I’m not ready for this to end. It’s been too long. Not just the years when I only really had space for football, or the months I spent tunnel-visioned on recovering from my injury, but too long since I’ve wanted my dick buried inside this beautiful, sexy woman.
Izzy’s cries ring in my ears. I want to stay right here, where the rest of the world ceases to exist. Where there’s only her, and this need, and the steady rhythm of our bodies moving together.
“Fuck,” Izzy hisses. “Dylan, I’m… oh God…”
Just hearing that pleasure in her voice shoves me closer toward unravelling. I fight the heat burning in my groin, desperate to hold on for just a little longer.
Not yet!
I force myself to slow down, drawing out almost the full length of my dick. My thumb moves between us, pressing against her center in the circles that had her screaming my name minutes ago. I slide back into her, taking my time now. She feels so fucking good.
I run a hand down her body, over her nipples. “You’re so tight, Izzy. So wet for me.”
My words are the final shove, pushing her over the edge. Her head falls back against the bench as the orgasm claims her. Her walls tighten as she moans, gripping me in place like her body doesn’t want to let me go. I push into her again, deeper this time, loving the way her body shudders with her release. The sensation is almost enough to undo me, a relentless pull that has my dick throbbing for the same. But I hold back, letting her ride the wave, my thumb never breaking contact with her center. I can’t tear my eyes away from her. She’s so fucking beautiful. And right now she’s all mine.
Her eyes open, focusing on me, clear and sharp, and I see it—the want still burning in their depths. I scoop her into my arms, her legs wrapping around my waist, her arms looping around my neck as I stand, turning us toward the nearest stall. I press her back against the wood and she grabs the hay hooks either side of us, steadying herself as I push back into her. She tilts her hips, meeting every thrust, her movements as urgent and desperate as mine. All I can think about is the pressure building inside me, the dizzying urgency pulsing so close to the surface, it feels like my skin is on fire.
Her name slips from my lips in a low groan as I thrust deeper, harder. My control unravels thread by thread with every roll of her hips, every moan of her hot breath against my neck. My hands tighten around her perfect ass, and when I can’t take another second, when the pressure and pleasure are too much, I lose myself completely, my release tearing through me, hot andpowerful, shattering the tension in my body as I spill inside her. For the first time in what feels like years, I let go completely—of the frustration, the resentment, the weight of everything I’ve lost.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that—our breathing uneven, our bodies wrapped around each other. Slowly, the world pulls back into focus. The quiet of the barn. The night air cooling the sweat on our skin.Gently, I lower Izzy to the floor until her feet touch down. My arms stay around her, unwilling to let her go, not yet. All I want to do is carry her into the ranch house, into my bed. Let her fall asleep curled up against me, skin to skin. I want to wake up with her tangled in my arms.
But the house is full—Jake and Harper, Chase, Mama. And Madison is asleep in the trailer. Right now, in this barn, is the only moment we have together.So we untangle. Slowly. Dress slowly. Then we’re standing side by side in the barn doorway, not ready for this to end. I brush my thumb over her cheek. “I hope it was worth the wait,” I murmur.
Izzy smiles wickedly. “Since the lake? Yes. Since the five years… Definitely, yes.”
I laugh, pulling her in for another kiss. But then I feel a flicker of tension in her body, and my eyes search her face. “What are you thinking?”
She bites her bottom lip, that telltale sign she’s wrestling with something. “This date…” she starts. “Mad… She was just… We obviously don’t have to go.”
I give her my best mock-offended look. “Oh, so you’ve gotten what you want from me and that’s it?”
Her eyes go wide. “What? No! That’s not?—”
I laugh and she swats my chest.
“What if I want to take you on a date?” I ask softly.
And it’s her turn to search for something in my expression. “Do you?”
“Yes, Izzy. I’d like to take you on a real date. One without hay in your hair and a pitchfork two feet away.”
She hesitates. “It could complicate things…”
I shrug. “Easy is overrated.”
That makes her smile. “I’m still picking the place.”
“Of course you are,” I say, and then I kiss her again.
Eventually, we step apart and Izzy walks back to the trailer. I watch her in the darkness until the trailer door closes, then I head into the ranch house, stripping off and collapsing into bed.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be thinking about what Mama told me this morning—about Coach Allen, the offer to join the Stormhawks coaching staff, a second shot at the game I used to live for.But as I lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the only thing I can think about is Izzy. How she’s rewired something in me. And whatever I choose next, there’s no going back.
THIRTY-TWO
DYLAN
