Page 64 of One Last Rodeo

“Yeah,” she whispers. “It was alright.”

I pull out of her slowly, watching as my come starts to slip out in a slow, thick slide… only to push it right back in with my cock. Her back arches a little when I’m back inside her.

“Ah,” she moans, watching me work myself back and forth inside her pussy. “I’m still so sensitive.”

“If we’re real quiet,” I tell her, lips brushing her ear and then kissing there where the skin is soft and smells the best, “we can do this inside my childhood bedroom.”

Her eyes widen. “But you said your grandma would wake up if we went inside?”

“I lied so you’d have to see me shirtless in the tub.”

She smacks my chest playfully—right where my heart is still hammering out of control. All for her. Only for her. She doesn't pull her hand away from my heart. She keeps her palm resting there.

I finally pull out completely, my cock softening just a little as it slides free of her. She lets out the tiniest gasp that hits my ego in all the right ways.

“What do you say, Kitty? Round two in my childhood bedroom?”

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling now. “Okay,” she says. “But you better be quiet.”

Chapter 19 – Catalina

“This is…”

Jensen turns toward me with that wide, goofy grin he hasn’t managed to wipe off since we landed in the state he calls home. He waits for me to finish.

“Yes?” he drawls, stretching the word out like he’s tasting it.

Since getting to Tennessee, his southern accent has gotten even thicker. Apparently, this is his usual voice; he just cuts out the accent when he rides, does interviews, and talks on the circuit with his friends. And shockingly… I love it.

It reminds me of the southern romance movies I watched on repeat as a little girl trying to learn English, clinging to subtitles and sweet-talking cowboys like they were the gospel and missing the plot. I really had no idea I'd like it this much.

“… Oddly relaxing." I finish, feeling the lightest I have in years. "I feel like I'm lying on a waterbed.”

His smile softens, and he nods without teasing. “I know. That’s why I come out here as much as I can. You can shut off your brain on the water. Just cast a line, wait, and listen to nature do its thing. Sometimes the insects get louder than the birds and it all sounds like white noise to me.”

I glance across the lake, the water rippling like brushed silk across the surface, the quiet so warm it almost feels like a blanket hugging my shoulders.

“Ever tempted to check your phone?” I ask.

He shrugs and shakes his head as he checks one of the lines draped over the edge of the boat. “Told you—I don’t really use my phone much. Even if I did, why would I look down when I can look up?”

Suddenly the thing I thought would be a red flag—a man who would never reply right away if I texted, the guy who'd never post a photo of me on social media as if he was too embarrassed to claim me unless I was winning an award, who doesn't concern himself with what's happening in the world around him, doesn’t live on his phone—feels like an asset.

Because a man who's technologically offline can't be tempted by all the temptation and trouble that an online presence usually offers. Which is exactly how my ex met his now girlfriend.

But Jensen doesn’t scroll through life. Helivesit. Whoever he’s with, whatever he’s doing, that’s where his attention goes. Maybe that’s why he’s got half the state of Tennessee ready to ride or die for him. Maybe that's why in each new city we enter, he finds a way to make new friends that'll last for life.

“So, when do we put them back?” I ask, nodding toward the cooler at my feet.

He raises a brow, eyes flicking to the water-filled box where the fish that we've caught today are still flipping, swimming in circles. Well, the fish that Jensen's caught. Three have bit my line. I finally got the hang of reeling one in, but I haven't been able to stomach unhooking them myself yet.

“We don’t.”

My brows knit together, and then it hits me. We’re not putting the fish back.

“No,” I whisper.

He chuckles. “They’re our dinner, Kitty.”