I push inside her, wishing to hell there was nothing between us as I do. She’s so wet, I slide to the hilt, making her cry out. “Yes, more.”
Fuck, the way she feels, the sounds spilling out of her—it all makes my chest clench tight.
It’s a new sensation for me. One I need to force aside, focus on the here and now. I slide in and out of her, my mindracing with every position I want to take her, if I weren’t out of condoms.
Rose matches my rhythmic movements so well that I become still and let her take control.
“That’s it, baby, keep taking me all the way.”
It’s almost empowering as she takes the reins, riding me on her hands and knees, taking my cock at her own pace.
“Wilder.” Her breath hitches and freezes, clenching around me. I grip her hips, thrusting until she’s screaming into the pillow.
It’s got me coming undone. I come so hard, my thighs shake. This girl’s got me weak in the knees for her pussy.
For her.
I leave a gentle kiss on the small of her back before going to dispose of the condom and washing up.
When I return, Rose’s face is still buried.
For a second, I worry that I pushed it with her. But then she peeks over at me with a shyness that melts me. “Jesus, it’s broad daylight.” She turns over, keeping the sheet above her chest.
I slide back into bed and pull her against me. “And you’re goddamn beautiful in it.”
Crimson-flushed cheeks press against my chest. “That’s nice of you to say.”
I lift her chin. “I don’t say things I don’t mean. You take my breath away in any light.”
Her eyes brighten but she plays it off like she doesn’t believe me.
“How about some breakfast?”
She scrunches her nose. “How about some coffee?”
I press my forehead to hers. “How about some eggs and bacon with that coffee?”
She grumbles in agreement, and I reward her with a soft kiss, then slide on my boxers.
Stepping into the kitchen, I start the coffee and put the oven on before moving to the living-room window.
It’s overcast and rain is expected later this afternoon. I make a mental note of who I’ve got on weekend rotation today. Not all are experts on wet-weather maintenance.
I’m about to call Jeff—who I trust more than most—and remember the favor I asked last night.
Wilder:At the cottage. Can you pick up Tuscan from here and take him back to the stables?
I owe him an explanation for it at some point. My guess is Jeff’s already figured out something’s weird about Rose and me.
That’s Jeff language for anything that has to do with sex or romance. Like when he noticed Dad coming to the front office a little too often to talk to Ginger or take her to lunch. “Somethin’ weird happenin’ with those two,” he’d say.
Picking up my phone to dial him, I find a message from Dallas.
Dallas:Hey, you all right?
It’s barely nine and he’s already up? For the last two months it was me asking him if he was all right. I respond with a dodge to his question.
Wilder:You’re up early.
