Page 45 of Wild & Worthy

I stop fighting it, and she's just here, climbing up on this bunk with me, that loose shirt, those panties, settling her weight over my thighs like she's got all the time in the world. No rodeo. No guilt. No Eli. Just Addie, here, looking down at me with that same dare she basically signed the picture with.

Your move, Cowboy.

"Yeah?" I've got a hand in her hair now, and it's soft and heavy in my fist. "You ready for that, Sunshine? Because I don't think you know what you're about to get in return."

She smiles. Of course she smiles. And then she starts working her way down my body, mouth open against my stomach, teeth barely grazing. I feel every inch of it in my mind.

I've got a hand around myself now, in the dark, in her bed.

She'd take her time. She'd drag it out just to watch me lose it, because Addie has never once in her life made anything easy for me, and she sure as hell wouldn't start now. Not with this.

I feel her breath on me first. Then that mouth — the one that's been driving me wild for years— finally, finally wrapping around me slowly, her eyes lifting to find mine while she does it.

Still daring me.

Still keeping score.

"Fuck," I grit out, my hand working slowly up the length of my cock.

But instead of my hand, it's her mouth. It's the heat of her, the way she'd hum around me just to feel me buck. I say her name out loud, one hand fisting in her hair, guiding her. She'd let me. She'd take it — every fucking inch of it — and she'd look up at me the whole time like there's nowhere on earth she'd rather be than on her knees in this bunk taking me apart.

I think about how she'd pull off just to talk. Because that’s totally something she would do. She'd stop with her lips right there, look up at me, and say something filthy. Something smart. What's the matter, Cowboy? You look distracted. And I'd have to drag her back down by her hair — and she'd let me, laughing of course, and go right back to wrecking me.

That's what does it. I come with her name on my lips, hips lifting off the mattress, gripping myself through every last pulse. For a few long seconds there's nothing in the whole world but that picture in my mind, and the coconut smell of her pillow. The total certainty that I am so far past saving where this woman's concerned, that there's no point pretending otherwise.

I lie there after with my chest heaving and the camper dead quiet around me until my phone buzzes against the mattress.

Sunshine: Goodnight, Chace.

Sunshine: Delete that pic!

Me: Not a chance. It's mine now.

Me: Best thing I've ever seen.

Me: Goodnight, Addie.

I wake up as sunlight spills through the camper's tiny window, Addie’s scent still lingering around me. God, a guy could get used to waking up surrounded by her. My mind immediately goes to the picture she sent me last night. I reach for my phone, unable to resist looking at it again, but there’s a new message from Addie waiting for me.

Sunshine: Morning. Delete that picture yet?

Me: Nope. It’s already my screensaver.

Sunshine: I hate you.

I didn't actually make it my screensaver, but I’ll let her sweat it out.

Hank, the shop owner, shows up at seven on the dot, keys jangling and a thermos tucked under one arm. He takes one look at the shredded tire and bent rim and tells me it’s my lucky day. He has both in stock, and the truck should be ready by this afternoon.

I spend most of the morning being completely useless, scrolling social media and posting a few updates just to kill time. Around noon, Addie texts me again.

Sunshine: Dusty says hi.

She sends me a photo of Dusty glaring at the camera. Fitting, honestly.

Me: He looks thrilled to be alive.

Sunshine: He misses you. He'd die before he admitted it, though.