“Thank god,” she breathes, letting out a shaky laugh that eases something in my chest.
“Continue,” she urges softly.
“She was never about ranch life,” I tell her, staring straight ahead at the trail. “I tried, damnit, I tried to pull her into it, to make her want it the way I do. But she was a city girl through and through. She wanted lights, noise, something different. I’m here. This land, this life—it’s in my blood. I don’t see myself anywhere else. Then Mom died…”
My throat closes for a second.
“I shut down harder than usual. Abby couldn’t handle it. One morning I woke up and the ring was on my bedside table. She was gone. Haven’t heard from her since. Didn’t go looking either. Last I heard she’s married now, got a kid. I needed to be alone a while. Really get over Mom. Really get over her.”
I risk a glance. Layla’s watching me, not with pity, but with something proud and steady that makes my throat burn.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me, Cole,” she murmurs. “It’s healthy you opened up.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, but I’m laughing, the sound rough and relieved.
She grins, wicked now.
“What do you say we go back to that creek and get a little wet? I’m burning up. Just a quick dip?” Her voice drops, teasing.
“Ya know… if you had a pool, we wouldn’t have to ride all the way out there.”
“City girl,” I fire back, low and rough.
Her mouth drops open in mock outrage, and before I can blink she’s kicking Shadow into a gallop. I’m right behind her, the wind tearing past us, both of us laughing like kids.
She strips at the creek without hesitation, boots, shorts down those thick legs I can’t stop thinking about, shirt off, bikini gone. Golden skin, soft curves catching the late sun. She runs in with a delighted squeal that twists something in my chest.
“Cole, come on,” she calls, splashing, voice bright and teasing. “Don’t leave me waiting.”
I strip, jaw tight, and wade in. The water’s cold, but she’s warmer, legs wrapping my waist the second I’m close, arms looping my neck, pulling me in like she’s been waiting for this all day. Her breasts press against me, nipples hard, body molding to mine. She feels too good. Too right.
She nuzzles my jaw, lips soft against my stubble, and murmurs, “I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. Couldn’t get you out of my head.”
My throat goes tight. I don’t do this, don’t let people in like this, especially not someone who drives me half-crazy. But her words settle warm in my gut anyway.
I kiss her, hard at first, then slower when she sighs into it, sweet and open. Tongues slide, hungry but not fighting. She bites my lip gently, then my neck—soft nips that make me groan. Her fingers trace my shoulders, my back, like she’s mapping me out.
“Stop being so damn sweet,” I mutter against her mouth, hands gripping her hips tighter than necessary.
She laughs softly, breathless. “Can’t help it. You make it easy.”
Fuck. She’s soaked, grinding slowly against my cock, little whimpers escaping every time I slide through her folds. I carry her out and lay her down on the warm grass. She looks up at me, eyes bright, flushed, like I’m the best thing she’s seen all week.
“I want you so much, Cole,” she breathes, reaching up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “Like… really want you.”
The honesty in her voice guts me. I drag my cock along her slit, teasing, watching her arch and bite her lip.
“Right here?” I rasp, voice rougher than I mean it to be.
She nods, legs parting wider. “Yeah. Please.”
I push in slow—one deep, steady thrust. She’s tight, hot, perfect, and her moan is soft, reverent, like this is everything. Nails press into my shoulders—not scratching, just holding on.
“You feel incredible,” she gasps, hips rocking up to meet me. “God, Cole… yes…”
I pull back, thrust again, harder. Her head tips back, throat exposed. I lean down, kiss the spot instead of biting, then suck gently while I move deeper, steadier, feeling her flutter around me.
“On your knees,” I say, low, almost reluctant.
