Page 116 of Tame Our Wild

Brian and Dalton have become some of our best friends, even though they live in a different state. Often, we’ll try to go on double dates whenever there is an event. It is the easiest time to catch up with each other outside of competing. I was overjoyed for them when their touches, kisses, and smiles in secret started bleeding into the league. They are perfect in every way, and even though they are still my competitors, I never fail to cheer them on out on the dirt or in ordinary parts of their lives.

Colson and my wedding was the second time I danced with Brian, and there was no jealousy that time or ulterior motive on my side. It probably had something to do with the fact that I had our forever promise to each other inked permanently on my finger as Brian twirled me around while Dalton laughed from a table, watching how smooth his man’s moves were. Colson smiled and swayed and danced with his mom beside us, both of us riding the high of our wedding night.

“Are you nervous?” my husband asks, his nerves about tonight laced in his tone.

I turn around in his hold, gripping my helmet as I peer up at him. I feel like I should be, considering I need to make up a few points if I want any shot at this. “A little, but I know I’m ready.”

“Good.” He nods. “Lap Dancer is an unpredictable bastard, but he’s got nothing on you, dust bunny.”

I can’t help it; I bark out a laugh. “Did you just call me a bastard?”

He smirks, knowing that tight-lipped, crooked smile never fails to have desire pooling between my thighs. “I meant the unpredictable part.”

“We’re a perfect match,” I say, my confidence overtaking the small seed of doubt I won’t let surface.

His brow curves. “I think you have that wrong. That’s us.”

I step back from him and pat his chest. “Not for the next five minutes, cowboy.”

Behind Colson, I see one of the crew members rushing toward us and know it’s time. “Let’s go, Harlow. You’re almost up.”

Colson plants a kiss on my forehead, his mouth lifting against my skin in a smile. “Kick ass, babe.”

I nod and blow out a breath, parting from him to walk toward the platform stairs.

“That bull has nothing on you!” my coach shouts loudly enough that half the crowd can probably hear him.

As I step up to the chute, none other than Jax Bowman is in a conversation at the end of the platform with Heather Ellis from Kickin’ Up Dust as she speaks into a microphone. When he sees me, he tips his hat, and I nod back.

I’m still not fond of the guy.

Two years ago, when he posted that video of Colson and me and then Colson quit so I could finish out the season, Jax won the buckle. It wasn’t exactly a surprise considering Colson was closest in the ranks to him.

Even assholes win.

But so do the underestimated ones.

I thought Jax might become my next rival after I started dating mine, but I quickly learned that the only person I can control is myself.

Before I know it, pure, thick muscle is shifting under my thighs, and I tighten my fingers around my bull rope, my other gripping the railing for stability. My heart pounds in my chest as my body memorizes every detail.

The rage.

The determination.

The grit circulating in my veins.

The breath escaping my lungs.

The sounds of Lap Dancer’s body hitting the fence and his snorts fill my ears.

But the one thing I’ve never felt with any other beast before is the way our hearts beat in sync as his body vibrates below mine.

That’s all I need. I know I’m ready, and I nod, lifting my free hand in the air.

The gate flies open, and Lap Dancer and I swiftly bolt out onto the dirt. My heartbeat is a profound drum in my ears, my body in tune with his as I feel his next move. Our breaths are heavy but in unison. He shifts from bucking to the right to the left, my balance staying centered and moving fluidly with him, as if we are one, not two separate entities.

Unlike all the other rides, I don’t want to tame him.