“And the weird fucking name trend continues,” I blurt at the same time Collie grabs my hand and pulls us ahead. “Dibs on Beavis.”
“Sure,” I sneer. “Guess I’ll take Butthead.”
14
COLLIE
DidI make that orgasm comment just to get a rise out of Easton?
Why, yes. Yes I did. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat to see his face flush like it did.
There’s something about him that makes me want to leave a mark. Break him—in a good way, of course. In a downright filthy way, actually.
The longer I spend with Easton, the more I witness how tense and reserved he is. Like there’s so much he’s holding back, and he’s bound to break eventually.
I harness the power to make men crumble at my feet. But I need to be meticulous and intentional.
I don’t want to scare the guy.
But boy do I ever want to jump his muscular bones and let him take a walk on the reckless side with a woman like me.
This trip can be much more than he or I bargained for, and I know I’m the one who will have to initiate that step.
Don’t mind if I do.
“Get your ass on the horse, Collie.”
I’m playing him. Pretending like I’m scared to ride Beavis, the brown and white horse I insisted on riding from Ernest and Naomi.
Easton’s horse, Butthead, is going apeshit behind us, his sleek black frame still strapped to the side of the wooden barn, impatiently waiting for Easton to saddle him.
But I’m the holdup. Doing everything I can to get Easton’s big hands on me. Preferably on my ass.
“I’m scared.”I’m not.Little does he know, I’ve ridden a wild horse in the middle of a Peruvian desert by myself. I could steer this baby with my eyes closed.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. I thought you’ve done this before?” he mumbles, looking at me intensely.
Have his eyes always been so light? There’s a gold hue swirling throughout the mocha brown, making them appear striking in the sunlight. The sharpness in his jawline and dark brows solidifies the rugged and manly vibes he’s given me from the start.
Downright edible.
Oh, I bet he likes it rough. Hand necklaces and all.
Not to mention his smell—a combination of coffee, leather, and spearmint. So uniquely him.
“I have, but I had a traumatic experience when I was in Peru one summer. It takes me a while to feel comfortable. It doesn’t help that I can barely reach the stirrup.” I attempt to laugh.
Touch me. Help me. I know you want to.
“Here, let me help.”Bingoooo.
Without asking permission, Easton scoops his giant frame under my arm and cradles me with a swift lift. His hand palms my bottom as he ushers me up, ensuring I’m stable enough to settle on my own. “Hold onto the horn and I’ll get you strapped.”
“Ouch,” I gasp.
“What happened? Did I hurt you?” he panics, searching for something he won’t find.
He doesn’t realize it, but his palm that was once on my ass is now lying flat against my thigh, just inches away from my freaking vagina.
