“Austin Taylor, I swear on all that’s holy?—”
“Now don’t go doing all that,” she says with a grin. “You can take me out, Rancher. When?”
Fuck. I didn’t think this far in advance. “You work tomorrow?”
Her brow raises. “Eager. Yeah, only til five though.”
Damn right I’m eager. “I’ll pick you up from your place at seven.”
“Pick me up from the bar at six. I’ll just change when I get off.”
“Now who’s eager?” I ask. “You know I’m supposed to shake hands with your dad and tell him my intentions.”
“That’s not necessary,” she says quickly, and it stings a bit. I know I’m temporary to her, but damn. “He won’t be home. Besides, if you pick me up early, we might have time to fit in a quickie in the backseat before we eat.”
There’s not a damn bit of me that wants to argue with that logic. I clear my throat. “Six it is.”
TWENTY-FIVE
AUSTIN
“Ouch,”I complain mindlessly when I bump my head against the roof of the truck. Again. It doesn’t bother me a bit.
“Dammit, Tex. I told you—shit.”
I grin, squeezing around him again since it stops his nagging.
“Fuck, baby, keep doing that and this’ll be over with before you want it to be. I told you I’m too old for this,” he groans, head thrown back against the backseat headrest.
No such luck on the nagging, it seems.
“You’re not even doing the work, Rancher.” My thighs can attest to it. His fingers dig into my hips under my dress and I mentally mourn that I can’t see his hands against my skin as I ride him.
My eyes flutter closed and I let my head fall back as well. I move against him languidly, taking my time since he wants to holler at me every time I bounce faster and end up hitting my head. It’s not like it hurts.
Apparently, it’s hard to have a literal quickie without making the truck rock and since Maddox’s pickup is pretty well known around town, it rocking would cause some talking. Small towns are annoying like that and the foggy windows are already a risk.
“Fucking hell, we’re never having sex before a date again,”he groans, staring up at the roof of the pickup like not watching me ride him will stave off his orgasm.
I grin, leaning forward and grabbing him by the jaw, planting a kiss on his lips to stop myself from giving him shit for calling this a date. He bands his arms around my waist and fucks up into me, making me moan into the kiss.
“Truck’s rockin’,” I choke out when he pulls away, breathless. There’s something about being manhandled that gets me going. All things considered, it shouldn’t. But him taking over and fucking me howhewants to fuck me, despite me being on top, has my belly tightening.
He grunts. “Don’t give a fuck.”
Someone whistles and slaps the side of the truck as they pass, but it doesn’t stop Maddox, who’s let go of my waist just long enough to grab my wrists and pin them behind my back. In just one of his hands. Lord have mercy. “Come for me, baby.”
I shake my head, stubborn and clinging to my orgasm. I want this to last. I want to put off what comes next. A date feels vulnerable. Sex doesn’t.
Maddox growls, using his other hand to wrap around my throat. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, despite the sweat dotting his brow. I know he’s barely hanging on as well.
“Green,” I push out, whiny. My reward is a tighter grip and a harder fuck. My body betrays me, eyes rolling back as I come apart for him.
“Fucking hell. Good girl, Aus.” He barely gets it out before he’s filling the condom with his release, letting go of my wrists so he can grab my hips again. I’m grateful when he takes over entirely, keeping the pace until we’ve both finished.
I fall forward against his chest, and he kisses my damp forehead, banding his arms around my back again. Thank god for setting spray. My hair is probably fucked, my dress is definitely wrinkled, but I’m almost positive my makeup didn’t move an inch.
It’s quiet in the cab of the truck, other than the sounds of uscatching our breath. I usually hate this silence. It can get awkward fast, but with Maddox, I’m content. I feel like I could stay in this silence with him for hours and not get bored.
