Page 60 of One Last Rodeo

That shouldn’t affect me as much as it does. My fingers tighten around his legs, my knees drifting to either side of his hips until I’m fully straddling him—hovering but not yet sitting on him.

His hands lift, brushing up my arms before cupping my chin firmly.

“Catalina,” he says softly, “I don't want to make assumptions here, but the way you're looking in this Tennessee moonlight gotme thinking you want to be fucked properly right now, and I respect you too much to sleep with you again.”

“Is sleeping with me disrespectful?” My voice is barely a breath. His eyes search mine in a way that tells me he feels this too.

“No,” he rasps. “But the things I want to do to your body are.”

I sink down onto his lap, feeling the stiff, undeniable press of him beneath me. His free hand grips my hip, steadying—no,holding—me there.

“Kitty,” he murmurs, almost like a warning. “Fuck.”

“I like that you gave me a nickname,” I whisper. "I like that no one else has ever cared enough to do that."

He looks tortured. Absolutely wrecked. He drags his thumb across my lips, then presses just past the seam. Instinct kicks in—I close my eyes and suck the tip of one finger lightly. I’ve never done anything like that before, but the taste of warm water and chlorine on his rough skin and the way he tenses beneath me when I do it makes me bolder.

When I open my eyes again, his are molten.

“I like having your attention,” I say.

“You have it,” he growls. “But I hope that’s not all you want from me.”

I don’t answer. Because I’m terrified that it might be. That I might only be doing this because I've been starved for affection and a man's focus for so long that I'm mistaking what Jensen's giving me for more.

He leans forward, lips brushing the corner of my mouth softly like he wants to kiss me there but won't allow himself, while his hand keeps my chin exactly where he wants it.

“I said I respect you,” he murmurs, “then you go and suck my thumb like it’s my cock.”

My pulse jumps. I can't remember the last time I've given head. I wonder if I’d still be good at it.

“Would you let me?” I ask.

He pulls back half an inch, breathing rougher. “I’d let you do whatever you want to me.”

I slide down more fully onto his lap, and the hard length of him fits right against me, throbbing against my clit.

“Will you have sex with me in this hot tub?” I ask.

“Catalina…” His voice cracks, thick with restraint, his thumb still on my chin, his other hand gripping my hip like he’s barely holding the line.

I reach under the water, past his waistband, and dip inside his boxers before wrapping my fingers around him. He’s stiff and hot and heavy in my hand. I stroke from base to tip, twisting slightly at the top, and the groan he gives me is pure sin.

My other palm finds his chest—right over his heart, right over the bull tattoo, like my hand belongs there. I can feel his heart beating wildly beneath the skin.

“I said I respect you too much to do that,” he grits out like that’s going to stop me.

“Disrespect me tonight.”

His eyes darken, narrowing like he’s fighting himself. His hand slides between us, hooking into the side of my soaked underwear and yanking it aside before thrusting two fingers deep inside my pussy.

“You want me to disrespect you,” he says roughly, twisting his wrist until he's practically lifting me with his hand from the inside.

“Yes,” I whimper when he rubs the front of my walls. “Disrespect me and make me come again.”

He presses his forehead to mine, releasing my chin only to slide his free hand into my hair and tug gently, opening my mouth for his. And then his lips crash into mine. They're hungry, desperate, like he’s been starving for this since the minute we left for the bar and my date tonight.

My bare breasts flatten against his chest, right over the scar I gave him months ago. Surgeon and patient, tangled up again—except this time, it feels like something more important than a one-night stand. I'm not sure if I'm crossing any lines by sleeping with Jensen again, but right now I feel too alive, too free, too turned on to even care about my usual list of rules.