Page 81 of One Last Rodeo

“Was that too much?” I ask quietly.

She shakes her head. “No.”

"I wasn't too rough with you?" My mind drifts back to some of the first words she ever said to me a few weeks ago when I shook her hand.

“No. I can take it.”

I brush my knuckles along her cheek, then kiss her forehead. “I know you can.”

She beams up at me.

“You know,” I murmur, “they say you’re not supposed to have sex right before a ride.”

Her brows lift. “What? Why not?”

“Need the extra testosterone,” I say lightly. “Match the bull’s energy.”

She snorts—and God, it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I want to find more ways to hear her laugh and see her smile every day because I know she doesn't give that part of her away easily.

"You’re so unserious sometimes," she says with a smile.

I pull her into a hug. “I think I messed up your nickname.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, then drag my lips softly along the seam of them, tasting myself on her tongue. She kisses me back sweetly but there's hesitation there like she doesn't know what I'm going to say next.

“What do you mean?” she asks, turning toward the floor-to-ceiling mirrors to check her hair and makeup.

I move in behind her, hands settling on her hips. My body dwarfs hers, palms spanning her stomach, her curves fitting me like they were made for my touch. I press in just enough that she knows I’m there. That I’m not going anywhere.

I want to tell her that, but I'm not sure if she's there yet. If she even realizes what's started between us isn't casual. That I intend on sticking around even after the series ends.

“Your nickname should’ve beenPulse...”

She stills and looks at my reflection in the mirror.

“…Because every time I’m around you, my heart races,” I say low, my mouth close to her ear where I bite down gently. “And you’re the reason I still have one.”

I turn her gently to face me and kiss her again—her cheeks, her forehead, her mouth—until her fingers curl into my neck, into my hair, until whatever she came in here carrying melts away into softness. I kiss her slow and deep, until our tongues are warm and unhurried, until there’s no start or finish to it.

I fucking love the way Catalina kisses me. Like she’s learning who she is through it. Like she’s never given this part of her away so freely before. And there's a strong part of me that either wants to believe or knows, she hasn't. That she never kissed her piece of shit ex like this.

I keep kissing her until there’s a knock on the training room door and Dawson's voice is bitching at me through it that it's time to ride. Her fingers tighten on my hips, just for a second, like she doesn’t want to let go.

And for the first time in my life, I’m not sure I want to ride either.

“Okay,” she says, pressing a hand to my chest, creating distance like she just remembered she’s supposed to. Like she remembered I’m the risky choice. The man who won’t stop riding for anyone. Not the safe guy she almost married who would never do something this reckless.

I watch the shutters slide back into place and her whole body go stiff and cold. “Have a good ride. Don’t hurt your shoulder. If you fall, make sure you don’t land on that side.”

I smile to try to soften the fears that I know she's thinking but not saying. “I like knowing you’re out there watching. Haven’t had someone to perform for in years.”

I kiss the top of her head and head for the door, but not before glancing back, tapping my fist over my heart and winking.

“Don’t worry about me,Pulse,” I say. “You’re the reason I still have one. As long as I've got you, I'll be alright.”

Chapter 25 – Catalina

Jensen’s ride was good.

Okay—no. It was great.