Page 116 of Homebound

She loops her arms around my waist, burying her head against my chest. “You seem really mad.”

The smell hits me.

Sandalwood cologne. His smell—on her.

The muscles in my back tense. I don’t want her smelling like him, which I know is ridiculous, but I’m not feeling all too levelheaded right now.

I catch her wrist and tug her deeper into the shadows behind the hay bales, away from prying eyes. Grabbing her hips, I lift her up on top of a hay bale, earning me a surprised intake of air from her. Every heavy breath brings our chests closer together.

“Fine. You’re right. I’m mad,” I say, pinning her against the hay with my hips. “I’m mad because you smell like him. I’m mad because he still wants you. But most of all, I’m mad because I’ve been in love with you since the day you saved my life, and I want everyone in this whole damn world to know it.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond. I kiss her hard—just to make sure she gets the whole goddamn point.

My lips crash onto hers, rolling and rolling, our breaths mingling. She twists her fingers in my hair, and the sensation sends electric sparks down my spine. She meets my kiss and raises me one better, sucking my tongue into her mouth.

The feel of her in my arms, it’s everything and somehow not enough. I reach down and grip the back of her hips, my fingers digging into her soft flesh. I push her down onto the hay behind her, the rough straw poking at my jeans. All I’m thinking about is how I need her, right here, right now, but I can’t.

Maybe I can.

No, I can’t fuck her on a hay barrel in the middle of the rodeo grounds.

She moans into my mouth, and that sound vibrates through my entire body. “I want you, Wyatt. Please. Now. There’s only you.”

I groan into her neck, nipping at her shoulder with pent-up frustration. It’s the only thing I needed to hear from her.

“We can’t,” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. “There are people around, and these chaps of yours are gonna be hell to get off.”

“I don’t care about anyone else,” she breathes against my lips. “And I think you can handle taking off my pants just fine.”

My breathing is ragged, and this idea of hers is starting to sound brilliant. “You want me to fuck you right here on this hay bale?”

Her hands are already at my belt, and her fingers slip as she tries to undo the buckle. “Yes, right here. There aren’t that many people around, and if someone randomly walks by, well…” Her lips curl into a wicked grin.

Her movements are frantic, and her desperation, that need I feel in her touch, it’s all the convincing I need. She pulls out my cock, and for a second, I think about how if one of those security guards sees this, I could go to jail for public indecency, but then she swipes her finger around the tip, and I think Dakota Cutler is worth jail time.

My mind is a haze of desire, consumed by how much I want her. Her fingers tease my dick, sending jolts of pleasure through me. It sets me loose, and I undo her belt buckle and then the zipper, but these jeans are impossible to get off with the chaps. There’s no leverage for her to wrap her legs around my waist, but she’s had these jeans for years, so the fabric is pretty worn.

Bet I could rip them.

I struggle, fumbling with the zipper. The damn thing won’t budge. “You know what? Fuck this. I’ll buy you some new pants.” I grunt, ripping the fabric of her jeans right down the middle inseam, giving her a satisfied smirk. “Much better.”

Her mouth falls. “Did you just rip my jeans right down the middle? How’s that even possible?”

I roll my eyes at the surprise in her tone. “You’ve had these for years, honey. The fabric is so worn, it’s like paper. I think it’s time for a new pair.”

I barely shove her panties aside before I pick her up by the backs of her knees and press her ass into the hay bale. She guides me in, and I slip into her wet warmth, deeper, always so deep. I bite her neck to muffle my groan.

The feeling of her is too much.

Once I’m fully inside her, I still, letting her adjust to me. I always need this to be good for her. She throws her head up to the orange sky, moaning. “Oh god, I mean Wyatt. Holy shit. Don’t ever take your cock out of me. You stay right here forever.”

I chuckle against her, and that vibration makes me all too aware of being inside her, so it quickly escalates into another breathy groan. I hiss in a breath, the sensation almost too much to bear. “You’re so fucking tight, honey.”

And then we really start moving.

Her warmth wraps around me, and this right here, there’s no better feeling in the world. She clings to my back as I roll my hips, sinking deeper into her. She clutches her legs around me, scraping up my back with the blunt tips of her nails. The sound of our slapping skin echoes through the rodeo grounds, louder than the crowd’s cheers.

It’s wild and fast, and I wish I had the self-control to savor this moment, but I can’t. All I can think about is the way she’s biting my neck and how she’s screaming even louder than I am, and how she won’t stop looking into my eyes, and I can’t stop staring at her because I want to see exactly how I make her feel.