"I'm genuinely shocked," Boone continues, still grinning like this is the funniest thing he's seen all week. "Colt Sullivan, struck out. Never thought I'd see the day."
I take a long pull from my beer, trying to ignore him. Trying to ignore the way my dick is still pressing insistently against my zipper, reminding me of everything I didn't get to do.
"What happened?" Boone asks, and at least he's stopped laughing now. He takes a bite of pie, studying me with those observant eyes that miss nothing.
I shouldn't tell him. I should just take my beer and go to my cottage and handle this myself. But the words come out anyway, frustrated and confused. "I don't fucking know what happened. There was this girl at the bar… New in town, gorgeous, curves for days, and she was into it. We were dancing, we went to the bathroom, and things were getting good. Really good."
Boone's eyebrows raise but he doesn't interrupt.
"I had my fingers inside her," I continue, too wound up to care about oversharing with my brother. "She was soaked, Boone. Fucking dripping. She was about to come, and then suddenly she just... stopped. Said it was too soon and ran."
"Too soon," Boone repeats slowly, chewing. "Too soon for what?"
"How the hell should I know? Too soon to fuck a stranger in a bar bathroom?" I take another drink, the cold beer doing nothing to cool the heat still coursing through my body. "But she was right there with me. She wanted it."
Boone sets down his fork and leans against the counter, considering. "Maybe she just ended a relationship. Like, recently. Days ago recently."
I pause mid-drink. "What?"
"Think about it," Boone says, warming to his theory. "She's new in town, right? She's at the bar alone, drinking, looking sad. Gets caught up in the moment with you, but then reality hits and she's not actually ready. Still processing whatever happened with the ex."
Fuck. That... actually makes sense.
I remember the way she looked when I first saw her. Sitting alone at the bar, staring at her drink like it held all the answers. The redness around her eyes like she'd been crying. The way she tensed when I asked if she was new in town.
"Shit," I mutter.
"Yeah." Boone picks up his milk. "Not everyone's like you, little brother. Some people need time to get over relationships before they jump into bed with someone new."
"It wasn't about jumping into bed," I argue, even though we both know that's exactly what it was. "It was just... I don't know. She felt different."
Boone's expression softens. "Different how?"
But I can't explain it. Can't put into words why this stranger affected me more in one dance than most women do in an entire night. Can't articulate why I'm still standing here with a painful hard-on instead of going back to the bar to find someone else.
"Doesn't matter," I say finally. "She's gone. Probably won't see her again."
"In Blackwater Falls?" Boone snorts. "If she's sticking around, you'll definitely see her again. Town's too small not to."
Great. That's exactly what I need, running into her at the grocery store or the gas station, remembering how tight she felt around my fingers, how she moaned in my ear, how close I came to—
My cock throbs again, and I have to shift to ease the pressure.
Boone notices, of course he does, and his grin returns. "You should probably take care of that."
"Thanks for the advice, genius." I drain the rest of my beer and set the bottle down harder than necessary. "I'm going to bed."
"Colt," Boone calls as I'm heading for the door. I stop but don't turn around. "For what it's worth? If she ran because she wasn't ready, not because she didn't want you? That's actually a good sign. Means when she is ready, she'll remember you."
I don't respond, just head out into the night toward my cottage. The cool air feels good against my overheated skin, but it does nothing for the ache between my legs.
My cottage is small. Just a bedroom, bathroom, and tiny living area, but it's mine. Private. Which is exactly what I need right now.
I lock the door behind me and head straight for the bathroom, not even bothering to turn on lights. Just the glow from the moon through the window, casting everything in shades of silver and shadow.
I strip off my shirt, toss it aside, and start working on my belt. My hands are shaking slightly from frustration, from need, from the memory of her pussy clenching around my fingers.
My jeans hit the floor, followed immediately by my boxers, and my cock springs free, hard and angry and leaking. I wrap myhand around it and hiss at the contact, my hips jerking forward involuntarily.
