His mouth swallows my screams as he joins me with spasmodic jerks of his hips. We climax together with our entire bodies, every inch of him sliding against every inch of me in a rhapsody of prickling skin and electric ripples.
He continues to thrust, kissing me languorously as his cock strokes in and out, throbbing against my walls. I wrap my arms and legs around him, inhaling his gasps and locking our souls together.
“That was… Jesus, Conor.” He half-groans, half-laughs against my neck. “And we’re only getting started. I fucking love you.”
For the next few hours, I relearn his rough edges, the intoxication of his breath, the scar on his calf from the rattlesnake bite, and the sounds his throat makes when he’s turned on. I rediscover all my favorite things—the dimples above his ass, the way his hair falls around my scraping fingers, the twitches in his legs when he comes, and the elation in his eyes when I scream his name.
When we aren’t lost in the throes of orgasm, I curl up against his chest and fall into an enchanted coma as he strokes my hair with reverent fingers. We talk about everything from school work to cattle ranching and the mischief we stirred up as kids. He hates snakes and wants children. I love all animals, and I’m terrified to get pregnant. He thinks I smell like wildflowers and sweet cream frosting. I accuse him of taking Viagra and injecting steroids. We both wish we knew our mothers before they died.
I snuggle against his hard body, chest to chest, and hook a leg over his hip. “Why do you think my mom created those hoops for Lorne and me to jump through?”
“It’s an incentive trust, which isn’t uncommon. My guess is she thought if you cared about the land, you would live here and work for it. College was the exception, as long as the ranch was your permanent address.”
“Makes sense, I guess.” I nuzzle my nose against his neck, breathing in his spicy male scent. “What’s the state of the ranch? Did it go into bankruptcy?”
“I retained some of the profit from the drilling and kept the business out of the red. Jarret streamlined the entire operation and hired better workers. Now I’m focused on the accounting and making better investment decisions.”
As he launches into a long-winded explanation on business models and money stuff, my eyes start to glaze over.
“By next year, we’ll be profitable again.” He pushes me onto my back and slides over my body, licking and kissing my breasts.
“What are you doing?” I shiver beneath his diabolical tongue.
“Clearly, you need to be stimulated by something other than my intelligence.”
“Hey, now…” I laugh. “Don’t judge me because I have a thing for naked cowboys with killer abs and endless stamina.”
“Well, this naked cowboy has a thing for you.”
The thing in question jabs against my thigh, buzzing a throb between my legs.
“The best course of action on this investment,” he says, biting my nipple, “is to go all in.”
He does just that, loving me hard into the mattress until we both pass out. Then he wakes me a few hours later and takes me again. By the time morning rolls around, I know Jake in every way—fast and brutal, slow and sensual, front and back, over and under, and side to side.
I fell in love with him when we were kids, before I understood the language of love.
Tonight, I fall harder than ever before. With every kiss, glance, smile, and evocative word, he doesn’t just stitch my heart back together. He welds it to his own.
We sleep in the next day and take the horses out for a ride before lunch. I’ll never grow tired of seeing Jake in the saddle. With his legs encased in denim, worn boots in the stirrups, and the Stetson perched low on his pensive brow, his sex appeal ropes me in and ties me up.
The fit of his t-shirt outlines grooves of six-pack abs, the curvature of pectorals, and the nub of nipples. The shadow of his hat darkens his tanned face, his features made darker by the scruff on his chiseled jawline. His striking good looks, the sensual way his lips move in a kiss, the devotion in his hands as they trace the curves of my body—who he is, what is captivating about him, comes from deep within.
His soul glows through his skin and radiates from his actions. He embodies all the rugged beauty in the world, and I’m caught up in it, in him, in the magic floating across the meadow and swirling around us.
But as nighttime approaches, I can’t ignore the nervous energy gathering inside me.
Levi Tibbs goes free tomorrow.
We’re all thinking about it, dwelling on the details of the plan. After a silent, tense dinner, Jake and Jarret decide to take me dancing to get our minds off it.