Page 55 of Tame Our Wild

Those bright fucking eyes that I catch myself staring at far longer than usual dart between mine. There’s something dancing there, and though I try to dissect the look, I can’t.

My brows dip. “What?”

She wets her lips, and they lift into a soft smile. “Aaron used to say that to me.”

Well shit. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“No. No.” She waves me off, swinging her leg over the machine again to get comfortable. “It just makes you feel more like my coach now.”

My mouth curves, her response putting me at ease. I analyze her posture as she threads her hand through the bull rope and grips it tightly. I turn it to the lowest level, watching her wait patiently for it to speed up. The look of confusion that crosses her face when she realizes the speed is stationary rather than increasing is priceless.

Harlow keeps her free hand in the air, but she looks like a child riding one of those kiddie machines you would slip a coin into at the grocery store. But this is important for my next lesson.

I leave it on, hop up onto the platform, and approach her side as she slowly rides.

“Uh—what are you doing?”

“I need to show you something, and it’s easier this way.” Her brows furrow with her uncertainty. “Do you trust me?”

She swallows nervously before giving me a gentle nod.

I place one hand on top of hers, clinging to the bull rope, and move my other hand directly behind her on the hide where she’s sitting. With the movement of the machine, my hand slightly brushes her ass. She audibly sucks in a breath at the slight contact—so do I. And I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t trying to seek out a way to touch her. To see if she’d still react to me like she did last night on the couch when that electric current flowed smoothly between us like there was never a severed connection to begin with.

“Alright.” I ignore the sensation zipping between us. “At this pace, do you feel the friction of its body underneath you?”

“Yes,” Harlow murmurs.

“At this pace, do you feel the way you fluidly move with it?” Why the hell is my voice so gravelly?

Her body moves back and forth slowly, and I absentmindedly splay my fingers across the small of her back slightly above her ass, grinding my teeth at the warmth that shoots through my hand and up my arm.

Desire rushes to my dick when I see the way blood floods to her chest and cheeks.

Am I making note that she isn’t squirming away from me? Yes.

Was this a fucking horrible idea? Also, yes.

Now I’m thinking how perfectly the swells of her ass would fit in the palms of my hands. How beautiful she would look riding my thick cock if roles were reversed and she was on top of me instead.

I release her, taking off my hat to cool myself down as I head back to the control panel—the entire time feeling her eyes follow me.

She knows I’m turned on. And by the way she was releasing those little, breathy gasps that I wanted to swallow by claiming her mouth with mine, I know she’s turned on, too.

It’s kind of the perfect distraction she needs to push past.

I shouldn’t do it, but I want her to see what she does to me. I turn up the mechanical bull to the beginner level. It’s enough to have her focus on her form, but not anywhere near enough to toss her off. I lean against the table and fold my arms over my sternum, not hiding the erection behind my jeans this time.

Her eyes fall to the outline of my cock, her chest going unnaturally still.

This might work in my favor.

“You’re not breathing,” I point out.

She blows out a panicky laugh. “And you know why.”

“I do,” I agree, trying to keep the shit-eating grin from appearing. “Here in a second, I’m going to turn this up until we’re at the max. Don’t let me distract you. Find something else to think about.” Besides what you’re doing to me. “Focus only on this ride, your body, and your breathing.”

She closes her eyes and blows out a breath before drawing in another one. When Harlow’s eyes fly open, I know it’s game time. The solid wall of pure determination set in her gaze is mesmerizing.