you’d make sure you didn’t miss out this trip?”
“Because I’m a partner not a moocher,” I tell him. “I can hold my own.”
“I know.” He places his cowboy hat back on and peers at me from the corner of his eye. “I’ll leave you the gun, just in case. Shoot first. Ask questions later.”
“Why? Have you heard anything?”
He shakes his head. “No. Those tracks got to me earlier, though. I don’t like the idea of someone following us around with not one but two highly powerful people who are able to pull strings and do whatever they want with us.”
“Which two?”
“Lance and Cole.”
It’s not impossible. I am naïve in some ways, but I don’t think Cole’s a threat to us. Maybe he’s trying to sucker me in by doing what I ask, but I really don’t think so. He might just be the guy who looks all bad and shit but ends up being a good guy—like the tattoos and piercings are only coverups.
“You don’t agree?”
I shrug. “I really don’t know what to think.”
He holds his arm out. “Come here.” I settle in next to his warm body. “Let me hold you for a minute.” His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm while we sit there for several minutes until Wyatt kisses the top of my head. “I wish we could’ve stayed riding horses longer.”
“Me, too,” I frown, thinking of how much fun I was having yesterday. “I think your friend thought we got into a fight or something.”
Wyatt chuckles. “He did look a little perplexed about the way we came back.”
I stare up at the great big sky. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The stars glitter and the moon looks close enough to touch.
Wyatt runs his hand up and down my arm. His fingers graze the side of my breast, and I nearly stop breathing at the sparks that jolt through me. He slows his movement, coming back up my arm to do it again. Tease. He felt my body react. He knows what the slight touch is doing to me.
Well, two can play that game.
I move my hand to his stomach, his muscles clenching underneath as I drop it down lower and lower. His breathing stills. Seconds pass before he reaches under the hem of my shirt, placing his hand on my bare skin and squeezing my hip. He dips two fingers under the band of my joggers, moving them ever so slowly up and down.
Evil cowboy.
I hook my thumb under the buckle on his jeans, settling my hand there. He stiffens, his hips moving upward in a slow roll. The firelight reveals the tenting of his pants, higher and higher, and my heart ricochets out of my chest.
“You understand that I didn’t have sex with you before because I wanted it to mean something, right? I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just attracted to you physically, that I wanted you on some other level, too.”
I try to sneak my hand away, but he holds it there, his hips jerking up to fill my cupped palm.
“Plus, I think I wanted to torture myself for treating women like I have. I’ve been a terrible guy, Tits. Fucking women, then icing them out because I thought they deserved it. It took meeting you to make me see that I was wrong.”
“How so?” I ask, my hand tightening around his thickening cock.
He strangles back a moan. “Like we shouldn’t be punished for the actions of others. I thought I didn’t deserve to have someone. What if I turned out like my mom? Just one day decided I didn’t want to be with someone and thought the only way out was to kill them? Like somehow being crazy can be passed down.”
I turn my head to peer at him. “You deserve so much more, Wyatt Longhorn. We all do.”
I move my hands to the top of Wyatt’s jeans where I undo the clasp and lower his zipper. I fan the sides out, revealing his erection under a pair of black boxer briefs.
Getting to my knees, I pull his shirt up and lean over, pressing kisses against his abs as I trail south. He reclines backward on his hands while I pull his boxers down, freeing his length. My core clenches. His skin lights up an orange-red from the fire, and I can’t help but think how perfect this is. It’s like our relationship was meant to start under the stars.
I fist him, and he presses up into my grip, cock