“Interesting,” I reply, “but I already knew this.”
Her face falls almost immediately, so mine does too, only, I’m not sure what caused her sudden shift.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” She shakes her head, tucking her hair behind both ears. “I know you were married. I don’t mean to forget to remember her, I guess. If that makes sense.” Her smile is so awkward and hopeful, and I feel like a kid with his very first crush. My heart is absolutely racing.
“Quinn, I know that. I don’t think you’d ever do that.” I get closer to her. “I know this because my best friend has three kids under the age of eight, and he’s pretty lazy out there on the ranch.” Partly joking, I wink, and Quinn graces me with her laughter, each soft note curling around the sore spots on my body, easing the pain just a little.
“Tell me again, that part about not being with another woman until me,” she says, nuzzling into me in a way thatmakes my eyes grow heavy as contentedness seeps into my pores.
“It’s true,” I tell her, easing her head onto my chest, against my pec. I’m sore, but the weight of her on me feels more like a relief than anything else.
We sway in the comfortable silence, letting important things go unsaid, because the moment is so content.
Then Quinn slides her hand over my cock and blinks up at me.
“I hate to end this perfection,” she whispers, sitting up. Seeing her rub me over my pajama pants under the cover of the blanket is scrambling my brain. “But I’m absolutely famished.”
My brows pull together and I hook a thumb toward the house, namely the kitchen. “I can fix you a sandwich.” She’s still rubbing my cock, and I’m fully erect. “I need a minute, but I’m happy to fix you one.”
She smirks, and mischief dances in her pupils. “The only thing to cure my hunger is your cock, cowboy, so why don’t you take me upstairs so I can have my way with you.”
I nearly take the whole porch swing with me when I snatch her up, with the blanket dragging behind us. Quinn giggles, burying her laughter in my chest as I tread through the house, up the stairs, and down the hall. I lower her to her feet at the threshold of my door, after she taps against my chest a few times. Pressing on her toes, she cups a hand to my ear, and whispers, “I’m gonna go turn Sadie’s sound machine on, I’ll be right back.”
Inside my bedroom, I fish the box of condoms out of the nightstand drawer, from underneath my stack of mystery books. Sadie never comes in here and really doesn’t go through my things because I’m a grown old man and she’s a little girl and there is very little overlap in her interests andthe things in my nightstand. Still, I felt compelled to hide them.
Now, with the teal-and-blue box in my hand, I think about what this box really means.
Quinn and I are about to make love.
But the plan still stands, no matter how many quiet little nothings we share on a bench or not. I wouldn’t be holding this box if either of us really thought she could stay when this is over.
The door opens, and Quinn slips in, quietly closing it behind her using her hip. All of my thoughts thankfully drain into one singular emotion as she tugs her long hair off her neck, putting it into a ponytail.
Desire.
She looks at the box, then up at me, hunger in her eyes. “One more thing. You got a rigging handy?”
My brow furrows, but I don’t lose my hard-on at the mention of the leather handle I hold while I ride. “A riggin’?”
She nods, not adding any clarifiers.
I scratch the back of my head. Some guys custom-order riggings before their final ride, but not me. And not just because I can’t afford it. Hell, I know a saddler out in California that’d make me a nice Barstow Texas High Lift for a damn good price. But new isn’t tried and true. New hasn’t seen the worst and held tight through the best.
I use what I practice with, and I don’t care how old and worn out it is or looks.
“I got my usual out there.” I don’t nod to the barn, she knows where it is. She’s seen both me and Tate strap my riggin’ to the bronc’s withers and just as much, she’s seen us unbuckle it, pull it off, clean it, and hang it back up.
“Go get it.”
I’ve never taken those stairs so fast. I’m back with my rigging and my hard-on in what feels like thirty seconds. Quinn is completely naked when I reenter my room, her clothes a beautiful pile on my floor, body positioned on my side of the bed, sheet pulled up to cover everything that makes my mouth water.
“That was fast.”
I hold out the rigging. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
She nods to the spot next to her. “Put it there, and put the sheet over, then come lie here where I am.” She slips out from under the sheet, and the sight of her bare, tanned ass, each globe perky and full, makes me groan. Quinn giggles as she walks past me, hands keeping her perfect breasts hidden for the moment. “Go on,” she teases.
Around the side of the bed, I place the rig on the mattress and drag the sheet up, creating a small tent. I begin to climb into bed but Quinn stops me, telling me to get naked first. The way she watches as I peel off my shirt, and how her mouth parts and a little sigh leaves her when I shove down my pants, gives me the confidence to obey and give her what she’s asking, instead of pin her to the mattress and take everything I need and want.
