Page 3 of Labor of Love

Am I the reason he’s considered it?

“Well, as you rank higher, the bulls won’t get nicer…”

The livestream of him stuck, flopping around like a ragdoll by the arm, still haunts me. “I’m worried one day it’ll be more than a sprained wrist.”

He shifts, his hands cupping my face. “It’s dangerous, I know. But I’ve been doing this for so many years. If I never go pro and win that world championship”—he swallows roughly—“it would all be a waste.”

He’s damn good at what he does and has invested a lot into it. His dream is something I won’t try to stop. Not when he believes in mine so strongly.

“I know.” It comes out more of a whisper, wanting to forget this conversation happened. Not wanting to think about when he eventually leaves. I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Rodeo won’t be for the rest of my life.” Stetson settles into the mattress, pulling me closer. My head lays on his chest while his hand rests on my hip. “This right here is my home.”

“This space might be a little claustrophobic for a man your size,” I tease as I glance around the Suburban.

“I mean ending every night with you,” he says, more seriously, and my stomach flips. We aren’t even dating. At twenty-one and always on the road, he hasn't even moved out of his parents’ ranch house. “Though a house sounds more enjoyable for us.”

Us? The word sits on the tip of my tongue. My mouth goes dry, unable to speak.

Are we evolving from more than fooling around? It’s been agreed upon that we keep this quiet. Working hard not to let looks linger or stolen kisses carry on longer than a moment. I’ve taken what I can get, but hope is a dangerous thing.

His stubble prickles my palm as I hold his face. Stetson takes the lead, bringing his lips back to mine. A familiar wave crashes through my core. My body melts against him as breathy moans cut through the silence. It’s the only permission Stetson needs before his hand brushes up my leg and under my dress to grip my hip.

“More,” I whimper into the kiss.

He grabs under my thigh and pulls me over to straddle him. We’ve waited too long for this moment. His thick muscles under my fingertips have me aching to feel more of him. His jeans restrict his erection, but I take what I need, grinding myself against him.

“Layla,” Stetson rasps, the moonlight hitting his jaw perfectly. “If you want to stop…”

Time slows with every silent second. With my heart beating loud in my ears, no decision has been clearer. This isn’t the first time we’ve dry humped, usually resulting with us finishing clothed. Now, with nothing but time and privacy on our side, I can wholeheartedly be in the moment. Stopping isn’t on my agenda.

“My turn to surprise you.” Boldly, I lift my dress over my head, revealing myself. “I want this. All of it, Stetson.” With my purse within reach, I lean over, retrieving the condom that’s been hiding there the past couple weeks. “Every inch of you.”

Stetson swallows roughly, taking in my bare chest. “You’re beautiful.” His hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me down for a slow, toe-curling kiss. Flipping us, he searches for an ounce of hesitation.

“I’m yours,” I tell him softly as his hand feathers down my cheek, over my collarbone, and my stomach flutters once again as he lightly trails down my side. “Touch me.”

His hand reaches my hip, slipping his hand under the waistband of my panties. No one has ever touched me there.

“Your pussy’s so wet, Layla,” Stetson hisses while gently brushing his finger through my wet opening and back up to my clit, making my breath hitch. The sensation sparks through me like it’s awaited his touch for an eternity.

“Always for you, Stetson.” I’m addicted.

He does it again, this time circling at the top. My legs spread wider. It’s nothing like grinding against him.

Our bodies speak as our breathing syncs. I’ve imagined intimacy with Stetson many times, but the present moment, our limbs tangled, is no comparison. His fingers change from slow to vigorous as he massages me just right, my body locking and convulsing as I come with his name on my lips. All tension within releases as my hand reaches for his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

“More,” I breathe, my hands fiddling to remove his shirt.

“I’m so lucky to spend this evening with you.” Stetson gazes down at me, taking off his t-shirt, abs on full display.

“Wow.” Seeing him shirtless around the ranch is one thing, but hovering above with the pleasure he’s giving me? A whole other level.

“Touch me again.”

He doesn’t waste a second, slowly sliding his finger inside, and I gasp.

“Feel good, baby?”