Page 2 of Cowboy

“You will, sweetheart. You’ll see.”

My arms stretch over my head, reaching for the headboard behind me. I never had a headboard like this before, and it is an investment I seriously need to consider in the future. For now, I curl my fingers around the wrought-iron bars and hold on as Bull works his magic. My toes curl. My back arches.

“Bull . . . I . . . ermygawd.” I’m breaking free again, coming apart at the seams as he balances over me, letting me ride this one out with him inside me. He’s on his knees, hitching my lower body up his thighs, handling me like a prize and taking me for a winning. He’s moving faster than before, and I’m just dust in the wind, floating outside myself and letting him have his way with me.

“So fucking beautiful,” he stammers, and I smile to myself. He’s been saying it over and over, and I’ll say it again, he’s just so sweet. Even though I’ve worked in the public eye, I’m not used to genuine compliments like he’s given me.

You taste like honey.

You feel like home.

Who says such a thing? I reach out for his chest, coasting my hands over the firmness of his pecs.

“Love your hands on me,” he grunts, thrusting into me, and then he hisses, clutches my hips, and holds me to him. I look down where we’re joined as if I can see what’s actually happening. Instead, I feel it. I feel him, and it’s amazing. The pulse. The pump. He pulls back and slams forward once more, finishing himself inside me.

Thank God for condoms and the pill.

He releases my trembling legs and falls over me, balancing on his hands as his chest heaves.

“Sweetheart, once will not be enough with you.” I bite my lip in response, perhaps a little too pleased that he wants me again. “I’m not as young as I used to be, so give me twenty minutes.”

With him still attached to me, our eyes meet, and an additional jolt seizes inside me.

“What was that?” I laugh.

“Aftershocks.” He smiles, one side of his mouth crooking up in a tease. “You rocked me to my core.”

We both chuckle and then he leans forward to kiss me. It isn’t quick and brief. He isn’t rushing to pull out of me. He isn’t leaving me for his side of the bed. He’s taking his time to kiss me, slow and steady, like he’s grateful for what we just did when I’m the one wanting to thank him.

Emotions wrestle inside me and I fight the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes.

No more tears, Scarlett Russell. After this night, you’re going to be just fine.

Bull sucks at my lower lip, tugging it as he retreats. Deep blue eyes stare down at me, looking at me like he really sees me. It’s a bit unnerving, but I also like that’s he’s trying to see me, like he wants to know me.

If I only knew myself. I’m no longer certain who I am, or what I want.

“Twenty minutes, sweetheart?” His eyes ask permission, just like he did earlier. Before he kissed me. Before he followed me inside this rental. Before we did anything. He asked if it was okay with me, and I just couldn’t say no. He could ask me anything, and I’d never turn him down.

“Twenty minutes,” I whisper. “And not a second longer.”

That wins me another tender smile and a quiet chuckle before his lips return to mine, kissing me like he’d never deny me anything.

2

How It Started

Bull

“No more women.” I stare into my beer, the thick head still visible as the waitress at The Gin Mill just served us.

“You aren’t serious?” My younger brother Canyon laughs at me. He’s shaking his head with a deep chuckle. “You’re a damn hopeless romantic. How’s that going to work for you?”

“I think you just mean hopeless period,” I retort. One week ago, I had my final date from that stupid app my brother and his best friend signed me up on. DatingDairy dot com is just what it implies—a spot for men of my profession to meet women willing to date, mate, and marry dairy farmers. However, I’ve already been down the aisle a few times, and I am no longer interested in the endgame. Marriage is obviously not for me. And that date was my last as it was a disaster.

Canyon is a fine one to talk about romantics. He’s always writing love songs in that old leather notebook of his. It might be strange to be best friends with my younger brother by three years but growing up on a farm makes tight-knit families or ferocious enemies. Working together day in and day out, we’ve had our share of fights, but at our core, friendship is more important than anything. And seeing as I might be living the rest of my life with only my brothers and father, I better get along with them.

“Well, if it isn’t the Perpetual Proposer? Mr. Bovine King himself.” My spine bristles at the sassy male tenor coming from behind me. Canyon looks over his shoulder, but I don’t need to look up to know Redd Bottom is the one to make his remarks.