“You’re everything,” he said, eyes locked with mine as I began to move.
The office filled with the sounds of our breathing, the creak of the chair beneath us, my soft moans as he matched my rhythm.His hands were everywhere, tangled in my hair, skimming my breasts, gripping my hips to guide me faster.
Just as I found my rhythm, Gunner reached behind him and grabbed his black Stetson from where it hung on the back of his chair. With that cocky grin that made my heart race, he placed it firmly on my head, adjusting the brim so it sat just right.
“There we go," he drawled, his voice thick with desire and amusement. “You know what they say, sweetheart...” His hands gripped my hips tighter as I moved above him. “Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”
The combination of his words and the possessive way he looked at me wearing his hat sent heat spiraling through me. “Is that an order, cowboy?” I breathed, picking up my pace.
“It's a promise,” he growled, his eyes dark with want as he watched me move above him, his hat on my head marking me as his.
When I was close, trembling on the edge, he suddenly stood, lifting me with him. Without breaking our connection, he carried me a few steps to his desk and set me on the edge.
“I want to see all of you,” he said, pushing papers carelessly aside. He leaned me back until I was spread before him, vulnerable and wanting.
With deliberate slowness, he unbuttoned my dress, exposing skin inch by inch until I was practically begging. When he finally moved again, it was with renewed intensity, his hips driving forward as his mouth claimed mine in a kiss that left me breathless.
“Look at me,” he commanded softly as he felt me tightening around him. “I want to see you come apart for me.”
Our eyes locked as pleasure crashed through me,hisname a prayer on my lips. He followed moments later,myname a rough whisper against my neck as we clung to each other.
For what felt like an age we struggled to catch our breath, papers scattered around us and clothes in disarray, he pressed a tender kiss to my forehead.
“I think that’s one desk down, one to go,” he murmured with a wicked smile that promised our morning was far from over.
After round two on Gunner’s desk, we decided it might be disrespectful to use Ruthie’s and so felt maybe we were finally satiated for a while. I was just pulling my hair into a messy bun with the spare band I kept on my wrist, when the office door burst open, and Tally came bustling in red cheeked and breathless.
“Boss, quick,” she cried. “You need to come and see this, quick.” She noticed me and waved. “You, too, Cassidy.”
Gunner frowned and caught my hand as he moved to follow Tally outside. The three of us jogged across the yard toward the training paddock. Bertie and Lucas were having some riding lessons with Mikey, and I internally screamed with fear wondering if something bad had happened.
“Tally what the hell is going on?” Gunner asked her, reading my mind.
“Just wait and see.” She grinned which eased the throbbing rush of blood in my veins.
As we rounded the corner the sight pulled us both to a stop. Breathing deeply, Tally turned to us with a huge, expectant grin.
“What do you think?” She threw her hands to her hips and pulled her shoulders back, hugely proud.
And she should have been, because there was Dream Maker trotting around the ring with Wilder on his back, not just Wilder but Bertie was sitting in front of him. Following behind was Mikey leading Lucas on Christine. It was Dream Maker, though,that our eyes were pinned to. The horse who didn’t even like to be looked at was walking happily with two people on his back.
“Fuck me, Tally,” Gunner said reverently. “That’s incredible.” He turned to me, excitement and pride in his eyes. “Look at it, sweetheart.”
“That’s amazing. Tally, you’re so clever.”
She blushed and looked down at the floor, kicking at the dirt. “It was Wilder who finally persuaded him to let him get it on his back.”
Gunner shook his head. “No, Tally, it’s all you.” He turned to her, putting a hand at her elbow. “Wilder wouldn’t be doing that without the work you’ve been putting in for these last weeks.” He tipped his head toward her and raised an eyebrow. “It’s not the end, though, he still needs a lot of work. He can be a temperamental ass, and I don’t mean my brother.”
“I know, boss.” She flicked one of her braids over her shoulder. “But I can spend a little time enjoying this, can’t I?”
The chuckle beside me came deep from his chest. “Yes, you can enjoy your moment.”
As Wilder came back in our direction Gunner beckoned him over and led us closer to the fence.
“How’s he feel?” he asked, letting go of my hand to take a packet of mints from his jeans’ pocket. He took a couple out and passed them on his palm to Dream Maker.
“He’s such a good boy, Uncle G,” Bertie gushed.
