Page 81 of Heartstrings & Horseshoes

I can’t stop laughing. He’s the perfect man, and he’s mine.

The next few minutes pass in a whirlwind. Our bill is paid, he practically tosses me into his truck, and we make it home in record time.

Rounding the front of the truck, Connor opens my door and unbuckles my seat belt. He scoops me up like a bride, kicking my door shut behind us. We laugh and make out through the parking lot and up the stairs.

He sets me down long enough to dig his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door, but then I’m back in his arms, and he’s booting the door open, carrying me over the threshold.

I. Am. Swooning.

Connor locks the door and as we pass the kitchen, plucks a yellow carnation from the bouquet. I kiss, suck, and bite his neck, driving him crazy. He carries me to our bedroom and gently sets me on the bed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, doll. I’ve wanted to take you out on a date since middle school but as soon as you opened the door tonight, I wanted to say screw the date and take you to bed instead.” He gets on his knees and deftly removes my cowboy boots and socks, pressing his strong thumbs into the balls of my feet.

I fall back with a groan of relief. He sets my feet down and I prop myself up on my elbows to watch my favorite show—Connor undressing.

My eyelids fall heavy and mouth parts as he takes off his cowboy boots and unbuckles his belt. His attention is fixed on me, the power heady. He unbuttons his shirt and takes it off, reaches one arm behind his neck and pulls his undershirt over his head in a pornographic display.

“Like what you see, baby?” he taunts.

“You’re so sexy, Connor, and I get to touch you whenever I want.” His eyes flash with satisfaction.

“I hope you do. I want your hands on me constantly.” He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling his underwear and pants down at the same time.

He stands gloriously naked like a tattooed, golden, chiseled statue.

Needing his body on me, I sit up to strip out of my dress.

“No,” Connor barks.

“I want to feel your skin on me,” I breathe.

“I undress you.” Holy shit that’s so hot.

“Stand up.” I pop to my feet eagerly, not trying to hide my submissive nature.

“Good girl,” he purrs and my sex weeps in response.

The carnation he plucked from my bouquet twirls by the stem between his deft fingers. Connor circles me like prey, dusting the flower up one arm and down the other. Silken petals drag up my exposed neck, down my throat, across my collar bones and tease my cleavage. I squirm under his attention and the tickling sensation.

“Open your mouth.” I do so immediately, and Connor places the stem horizontally between my parted teeth.

“Close,” he growls.

With his hands free, Connor peels the straps of my dress down my shoulders painfully slowly, stretching the fabric to its limits. My bra grips the neckline of the dress, and he tugs it down roughly with one finger between my breasts.

The motion makes his heavy cock bob between us flooding my mouth with saliva.

The slip dress pools at my feet, leaving me in barely-there lingerie. Connor steps back to admire his handiwork. He scratches his bearded jaw, licking his lips like he’s starving.

Taking the carnation from my mouth, Connor dusts it across the swell of my breasts and down my stomach, making my muscles dance away from the sensation.

“This wasn’t in the drawers I packed from the trailer.” Fire lights in his eyes.

“And why would you know that? Didn’t you just sweep all my clothes into boxes?”

Connor sucks his teeth, restraining himself and it’s intoxicating.

“No, dollface. I didn’t just sweep your clothes into boxes. I fingered every bra and thong in your drawer.” My eyes go wide, and my pulse quickens.