Page 97 of Last Chance Cowboy
Because she knew what it was like to be trapped.
She would never do that to him.
Ever.
No matter how much she wanted him.
She could see the blazing regret in his eyes, and his jeans were close by. He grabbed hold of them. The fog was beginning to clear just a little bit. Of course, his wallet was in there, his keys.
Had he very nearly let them float away?
All because of this? All because ofher? He dragged them both to the shore, along with his jeans, retrieved his wallet, and laid her down on the grass as he took a condom out.
“Fucking…” He took a deep breath, put his hand on his forehead, and she had no idea what he was about to say, because he froze then, like he couldn’t even think, like he had no idea where to go from here.
But then, he kissed her instead of going on. Then, he tore the condom open and rolled it over his hard length.
Then he thrust inside of her, which was perfect, because she needed him so much that she was ready to die from it. Each stroke was so deep, so perfect, and she wanted it to go on forever. She arched against him, clung to his damp skin. She was cold from the water, but hot from him. The inferno that burned inside of her seemed like it would never go out. She didn’t want it to.
When she came, it was like a storm, and his own orgasm grabbed hold of him and took him at the same time. They clung to each other, shaking.
And she let her head fall back, water drops still sliding down her neck. He licked a trail up her wet skin, slicking away the droplets.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” he said.
She pressed her hands over her face and started laughing helplessly. “Yeah. Me too. And in more ways than one.”
“Want to make a bet on how many more times you can do it tonight?”
“I’m pretty sure the limit does not exist.”
“Happy to test the theory.”
“Were you actually about to lose your keys?”
He sat up, propped his knees up, forearms resting on them. They were both naked, on the shore, and there were about a million reasons that it wasn’t maybe the best idea, but she didn’t really care about any of them.
“Maybe,” he said, sounding dumbfounded. “But we ought to collect our clothes, and we probably need a rinse.”
She stepped into the river, and she wasn’t sure what he did with the condom, but she was happy to let him manage that.
She sluiced the water over her skin, getting rid of the dirt and plant matter that she had picked up on the shore.
He collected the clothes, grabbing hold of her underwear, her bra, and her dress.
“Thank you,” she said as he deposited everything on the shore and got back into the water.
“You’re welcome.”
She studied his face, the gorgeous angles of it. His dark whiskers, those green eyes.
She wondered if she was getting a small look at who he might’ve been. Who he might’ve been in another life, if he hadn’t been so badly wounded.
If he hadn’t lost so much.
If she could give him that, then… All of this made some sense.
And if she could be one of the few people to witness it, that felt even better.
