"I know." I drove deeper and she choked on a sound. "I know, baby."
She reached back and grabbed my thigh and I covered her hand with mine for a second—just that, just our hands—and then I straightened up and gripped her hip and gave her everything I had.
"Been thinking about this all day," I said roughly. "Can't stop thinking about you, Haven, can't?—"
She clenched so hard I lost the thought entirely.
"Please," she breathed. "Please, I'm so close?—"
"Yeah." I reached around and found her clit and felt her whole body jolt. "Come on then."
She shook apart with a groan and I had to pull out at the last minute to stop from coming inside her—taking myself in hand and shooting all over her pretty ass instead.
Neither of us moved for a long moment.
Haven's forehead dropped to her arms on the saddle rack, her whole body still shaking through the aftershocks. I cleaned her up with my shirt tail and she made a small satisfied sound and didn't lift her head.
"You okay?" I said.
"Mm." A pause. "Better than okay."
I tucked myself back in and leaned against the wall and looked at her—hair everywhere, jeans still pushed down, cheeks flushed—and felt something move through me that wasn’t at all appropriate. None of this was.
She finally lifted her head and looked back at me over her shoulder.
"Hi," she said.
I couldn’t help but smile at her. "Hi."
She smiled back. Small and private and just for me, and I felt it like a fist around my heart.
Then her stomach growled.
She blushed.
I frowned. “You eaten?”
"You eaten?" I asked.
"I was going to eat after."
"After what?"
She gestured vaguely at the tack room.
I shook my head and moved closer to her so I could finish cleaning her up, right her clothes. I turned her around and that was the biggest mistake I could have made—because she was face to face with me then, cheeks flushed, her eyes so fucking pretty…
I brushed her hair back from her face.
“Don’t want you getting hungry on my account,” I said. “Let’s get back to the house—shower up, I’ll make you some dinner.”
Her tongue slid across her lips. “So this is a dinner date?”
“It’s not a date.”
“Right,” she said, but she didn’t look convinced. “It’s just dinner.”
“Just dinner.” I scowled, stepping back. “Come on, then. Let’s get you fed.”
