I push my tits together in response, earning another one of those sounds I love from him. He pulls out, rips the condom off and grips himself, pumping with his hand as his hot cum coats my tits.
It’s dirty, hot, and the best sex I’ve ever had.
“Skittles is too a legitimate safe word.”
I laugh. “A grown man should not be using Skittles as a safe word.”
“Okay, what do you suggest I use, then?”
“I don’t know, maybe wasabi, because things are getting a little too spicy.” I wink.
“That is so much worse.” He laughs. “How about we switch from food to animals. Like hyena, because I’m laughing now, but it’s mostly fear.”
I grip his face between my hands. “Trey Bennett, if you yell out hyena in bed, I will hide your Xbox for a month.”
He gasps before kissing me, and ten minutes later, he indeed does yell out hyena, starting the great Hawkins vs Bennett Xbox battle.
“You’re terrible at this,” Trey says as popcorn hits me in the face,again. He, of course, catches every piece in his mouth.
I punch him in the shoulder. “Sorry, we aren’t all professional athletes.”
“Like riding bulls hasanythingto do with catching popcorn,” he deadpans, rolling his eyes at me.
We’ve been in bed for hours, talking, snacking, and having more sex. These are some of my favorite moments with him—just him and me, utterly relaxed. I feel like I’m more myself in these few hours than ever before.
I see a different side of him in these times, almost like he knows he doesn’t have to act a certain way for the world to see. There is a lot more to Trey Bennett than I ever imagined, and I like every part I’ve uncovered yet.
I know I have to let him go soon, so I focus instead on soaking up every minute we get together.
Chapter 30
Trey
In less than ten days, I’ll be climbing into the chutes back onto a bull. I want it so much I can taste it. It’s like I’m having withdrawals. I’ve cleaned and prepped all my gear, twice. New riding gloves, bull ropes, and rosin came in the mail last week.
I can’t get on the road fast enough.
But before I leave, Jessie and I need to have a talk. She’ll be back from work any minute, and I’ve spent most of the afternoon rehearsing what I want to say to her. I don’t want this to end. Yes, I’m going to go rodeo, but that doesn’t mean we have to be over. Because her and I, we fit. We shouldn’t—hell, we’re like two awkward puzzle pieces that somehow fit together—and no one knows why, because we’re from two different puzzles. But wedofit.
I’m not ready to let this go. Deep down, I don’t think she is either. Since the doctor told me two more weeks, she’s spent every spare minute with me. I know she feels it—thismagnetic pull telling her we were made for each other. I’m done pretending I don’t want to claim what’s mine.
Thwack.
I hear the back door close, then thethumpof her ridiculous tote bag being lobbed on the table. I stay on the couch, knowing I’m her next stop. Some nights I’m in the kitchen cooking dinner, but when I’m on the couch, I’m her unofficial crash landing pad. She rounds the corner, in sky blue scrubs with daisies on the top. She has her hair tied up. I open my arms in time for her to fall into them, and she does.
With her head on my chest, she breaths deeply and asks, “How was your day?”
“Good. Hit the gym and got my gear ready.”
“Didn’t you get your gear ready last week?” She chuckles, knowing how wound up I’ve been.
“Yeah, but I decided to stretch my new ropes so they’ll be ready to go. I went to the ranch and Chet helped me.” I absentmindedly rub her back. “How was your day?”
“It was good. Pretty slow and uneventful.”
“Good. Hey, I was hoping we could talk about something.”
She must hear the hesitation in my voice because she pulls back slightly to look at me. This is a conversation we need to have, but I’m not sure what her response will be, and that makes me nervous. I’ve never had this conversation with a woman, since I have no relationship experience. When I called Knox for advice, all he said was, “Be honest. And good luck.”
