She shattered—writhing, gasping, clinging to me like she’d drown without me holding her up.
I kissed her through it, swallowing her cries, stroking her until she trembled and sagged against me, breathless.
Then I lifted her chin, her eyes blissed out and hazy. “What happened to waiting until tonight?” she said, voice slurred and dreamy.
I spun her around quickly, making her squeak. I popped the button on her shorts and sent them to her ankles. “Fuck waiting,” I said, pulling my cock out. “I’m not finished with you.”
I didn’t give her a chance to respond and kicked her feet wider while tugging her panties to the side. Her back arched, ready, and I rocked forward, filling her in one go.
“Oh fuck,” she groaned. Her head fell forward to the wooden wall as I drove into her.
I braced a hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder, my grip tight. My pace was relentless, brutal, and she took it all. Just like I knew she would.
“This what you wanted?” I panted. The sound of our bodies connecting, her moans, my grunts filled the barn, and I couldn’t give a damn anymore who heard.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Can’t hear you.”
“Yes!” she cried out
After, we tried to make ourselves presentable, both breathing hard, grinning like idiots who'd just gotten away with something. Her lips were swollen, and she had that satisfied look that made me want to start all over again.
"We're never going to get anything done if you keep attacking me in barns," I said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, trying to make her look less like she'd just been thoroughly ravished.
She arched a brow, smirking. “Who attacked who? In fact, I distinctly remember you saying?—"
I covered her mouth with my hand. "We don't need to recap."
She licked my palm, making me jerk back, and she laughed—that bright, free sound that I'd do anything to hear every day for the rest of my life.
"I can see myself getting absolutely nothing done with you around," I said, straightening my shirt, which had somehow gotten completely twisted. "You're too distracting."
"Good thing you like being distracted." She kissed my jaw, smug and glowing with satisfaction, looking like the cat that got the cream.
We managed to actually work for the next hour, fixing the fence posts that had indeed been knocked loose by the storm. She held boards steady while I hammered, anticipating what I needed, passing me tools before I asked for them. Even mundane ranch work felt charged with her there, every movement deliberate and somehow sensual.
"You know," she said, watching me drive in a nail with three solid strikes, "there's something very attractive about a man who's good with his hands."
"Is that so?"
"Mm-hmm. All that competent hammering. Very...thorough. Very...rhythmic."
I snorted, shaking my head while moving onto the next post. “You’re impossible."
"Impossibly charming? Impossibly sexy? Impossibly?—"
My phone rang, cutting her off. The ringtone was the one I used for ranger dispatch—sharp, official, impossible to ignore. The sound was like cold water on the heated moment, reality crashing back in.
"Walker," I answered, already feeling the shift from rancher to ranger, from man to law enforcement.
"Liam, we need you." It was Captain Baker, and his voice had that edge that meant serious, the tone that made my gut tighten."Missing child, possible abduction. Six-year-old girl, taken from her front yard in Millerville."
Everything in me went cold and focused, the playful morning evaporating. "How long?"
"Two hours. Maybe three. Parents just noticed she was gone. Hannah Sullivan. Brown hair, brown eyes, wearing a pink Disney princess shirt."
"Send me the details. I'm forty minutes out."
