His teeth graze my skin, a promise. “Say yes.”
My head falls back against him, my whole body already tipping over the edge. “Do it,” I manage, and it comes out like a plea.
Everything in me snaps open in that second as my orgasm bursts free. The release comes over me so hard that my vision whites out and a sound tears from my throat that Idon’t recognize as mine. For a second, I’m weightless, floating, suspended in cold air and spinning lights, my body trembling as pleasure rolls through me in waves I can’t control.
Kai makes a broken sound behind me, pure need, and his hold turns possessive, solid. His mouth presses to my shoulder again, hot and intent, and I feel him lose the last of his restraint.
He bites down, tearing skin, marking me.
I scream out as he shudders hard, breath ragged against my skin, and then he finally lets himself go too, shaking and throbbing inside me, filling me with his cum. His cock thickens, and that unique sensation of being stretched from the inside out, just as Carter had done, repeats itself. He’s knotting inside me, his arms around me possessively.
For a heartbeat, the impossible sweetness of being wanted consumes me completely. It isn’t just pleasure; it’s the way my chest loosens like I’ve been bracing my whole life and somebody finally caught me before I hit the ground. I feel wrecked in the best way, dazed and full of him, full of us, and the night air makes it sharper, more real, like the stars are witnesses and the whole world can do nothing but keep turning while I cling to him and decide, in the middle of this madness, that I don’t want to be careful anymore.
“You’re mine, June,” he hisses, his mouth on my neck, his body shaking as he fills me, making me his permanently.
He stays there, both of us trying to find our breathing again, while the carousel keeps turning as if nothing happened, like the whole world didn’t just narrow down to us bonding on a carnival ride.
21
SETH
The boardroom smells of stale coffee and bullshit.
I’m sitting at a long wooden table in the Honeyspur Meadow Town Hall, a jug of water and a plate of untouched pastries between me and Holden, who I’m fairly certain tried to destroy my reputation. My father is on my right, Pete, the committee head, across from us.
“Nice to have you attend, Seth,” Holden says, shuffling through a stack of papers. He’s a thin man, nervous-looking, with the kind of smile that makes him look wary. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at one of these meetings.”
I lean back in my chair, keeping my expression neutral. “Figured it was time to start paying attention.”
“Well, that’s a pleasant surprise.”
I bet it is.
My father glances at me, something like approval behind his eyes before his usual gruff mask settles back into place. “Good to see you taking an interest.”
“I will be from now on.” My gaze stays fixed on Holden. “Seems like an important part of the business I should understand better.”
Holden shifts in his seat. It’s subtle, just a small adjustment, a barely perceptible tension in his shoulders, but I catch it. Good. He should be uncomfortable.
Because right now, sitting across from him, all I can think about is the girl at the bar. The one who slipped something into my drink because this piece of shit paid her to do it. The night I lost hours of my life, the charges I’m still facing, the way people looked at me the next morning like I was some out-of-control animal.
All because of him.
I want to reach across this table and break his jaw. To watch fear replace that smug confidence in his eyes as I make him confess everything right here, right now, in front of my father and Pete and anyone else who might be listening.
But I can’t. Not yet.
We have the girl’s confession, but Holden will deny everything. He’ll claim she’s lying, that she’s trying to shift blame, that he’s never seen her before in his life. Without proof, real, concrete proof, it’s her word against his.
And a town committee finance director carries a lot more weight than some out-of-towner desperate for cash.
So I sit here and play nice while pretending I don’t know that this man tried to ruin me.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” Holden clears his throat, pulling out more papers. “I’ve compiled the intake figures from the first two days of the rodeo, broken down by category—ticket sales, concessions, merchandise, and ancillary revenue from local businesses.”
He passes sheets to my father and Pete, pointedly not giving me one. My father slides his copy between us, and I lean in to look at the numbers. “If I’d known you were coming, Seth, I would have prepared an extra copy of the financials.”
I just stare at him, then down at the figures.
