Page 56 of Colt

“What?” He blinks.

“No kissing.”

He looks downright irate. Jaw ticking, nostrils flaring. “What kinda bullshit rule is that?”

“My rule.”

“I’m dyin’ here, Dallas.” He looks down at his engorged dick. “And you ain’t even gonna let me kiss you?”

His accent is thicker. I sense a note of desperation in his voice. Good.

“Nope. But I will let you watch.”

I really must be out of my mind, because I’m taking a step back and sliding a hand inside my leggings.

His prominent Adam’s apple bobs. “More.”

“Be”—my breath catches when my fingers find my clit—“patient.”

“Fuck that. Show me more or⁠—”

“What?” I move my hand between my legs. Then I slip the other inside my shirt and run my thumb over my nipples.

I’m vaguely aware that we could be caught. People come and go from the stables with alarming regularity, even this late in the day.

And yet I still don’t stop. I feel my orgasm rising up inside me as I play with myself. The look on Colton’s handsome face is one of pain now.

You’re welcome, dickhead.

“Or I’ll walk right out,” he says.

I nod at his cock, protruding proudly from between his legs. “With that thing? I don’t believe you.”

“Try me.”

“All right, I will.” Without a second thought, I push down my pants and underwear. Toe out of one shoe and work my leg free so that I can prop it on the nearby mounting block.

I’m spread wide. Baring everything.

Judging by the way Colton lets out a violent little fuck, it does the trick.

“Fuck,” he repeats, eyes glued to my center. “You gotta—can I⁠—”

“No.” I begin to touch myself in earnest, hips rolling.

“How—you’re wet. So wet I can see it.” He swallows. “For me?”

“For me. I’m good at turning myself on.”

“I’m sure you are. But right now—I mean, c’mon.” He chuckles, the sound threadbare. “You’re the one who’s lying now. Because some of that, it’s because of me.”

“How much would you hate me if I came first? Let you sweat a little—oh, more.” I circle my entrance before dipping my finger inside myself.

“I already hate you. Knock yourself out.”

I push my finger deeper. “Think you’d fit in here?”

“Aw, honey, I’d make it fit. You’d like it. You’d scream my name⁠—”