Page 80 of Tame Our Wild

Something in his gaze shifts. He keeps his hat off, but the way his gaze darkens has my stomach fluttering differently. I try to reach in and grip their wings in my imaginary fist because I cannot find this look on him attractive right now. Not when I need answers.

“How do I feel about you?” he repeats, taking a step toward me, and I retreat a step back until I hit the concrete side wall of the arena. He cages me in with his hands, one of them trapping his hat against the wall. “I think you are gorgeous.” His words penetrate something profound that I didn’t know existed until now. “Fucking resilient. Bold. Beautifully wild in ways that I never wanted to notice. You take my shit and drive me goddamn crazy.” He cups a hand gently around my throat, enticing my eyes to flick up and meet his. His tongue whips out to wet his mouth, his fingers pulsing into my flesh.

“How do I feel about you?” he repeats, dropping his mouth to the shell of my ear. “I feel like I’m starting to fall for you despite how hard I’ve tried not to.”

The weight in my chest drops into my stomach and explodes with the fervor of a million fireworks sparking to every nerve ending. The butterflies pick up again, the tips of their wings sparkling in a way that sizzles to my core with fervor.

And then his mouth is on mine, his expert movements eliciting a whimper from my chest. His hard body presses mine into the wall as his hand on my throat holds my head in place so he can deepen the kiss in a way that has me melting through his fingers. His tongue slips into my mouth, the soft touch of it tangling with mine, making the world around us fall into nonexistence. He pulls his mouth back, but I chase him, gripping his button-down shirt in my palms, our bodies colliding as I crave him closer than he already is.

Colson pulls away slightly. “I was wrong.” The words float across my lips, but I feel them everywhere.

I go still against him, gripping his arms to steady myself.

I didn’t expect to hear those words.

Not like this.

Honestly, when I pictured this moment, I expected a slip of sarcasm to attach to the words. But there’s no hint of that here. He’s sincere. And I find myself letting my barriers fall just a little bit more.

His hand splays across my rib cage as he moves it back to cup my ass. My head tilts, his mouth finding the crook of my neck. He nips me lightly, making my toes curl in my boots, before soothing the spot with a kiss. “And while I’m being honest, I never thought I’d see a day where something else on the circuit holds my attention more than the buckle.”

We leave for Reno, Nevada, tomorrow morning for our next event, and the thought of continuing our charade of not talking at events has dread pooling in my gut. Would it be so bad if people found out about us?

Well, I guess it’s hard to come out when I’m not even sure what we are, other than the coaching aspect.

I’d tell myself that I’m being irrational and it’s the mind-blowing sex that altered my brain, but even I know that whatever it is I feel toward him has been growing day by day. There is still so much we need to discuss, things that we can’t keep brushing under the rug like dust if we want this to go somewhere.

I should turn around before it’s too late, and this ends worse than how we started, but as he presses his lips to mine again, he clears all the questions but one.

This chemistry between us could go up in flames when everything comes to light.

But what if it doesn’t?

THIRTY-FOUR | COLSON

The thump of two-stepping pulses through the scuffed-up wooden floor of the saloon with an intensity that vibrates through my bones. Neon lights flash across the mob, overtaking the dance floor, their bodies moving to the country music blasting through the speakers at a volume that threatens to blow my eardrums.

People are happy.

Dancing.

Smiling.

Not me. The scowl that is planted firmly on my face has been there for the past thirty minutes, and there’s no sign of it leaving if Brian Sanders continues to smile the way he is at the girl I shouldn’t be considering mine.

Dalton Carroll is at their table, too, participating in the conversation, but I’m not focused on him.

They are at a different table across the room from where I sit with Matt and some of the other riders who have been chatting and making small talk about the last few events of the season before finals. It’s not hard to miss the excitement and nerves that bleed into their tones, but their voices still sound muted as blood pumps angrily in my ears.

I’ve never considered myself a jealous man, but fuck if I don’t want to punch that damn grin off Brian’s face hard enough to see if his mustache would fall to the floor. I know they have gotten close over the season as Harlow and I keep our distance in public, but I want all her smiles. She tips her head back, brightly laughing at something he says, and my fingers pulse into my beer glass like I can shatter it.

Yeah, I want her laughter, too.

I inhale a deep breath, attempting to calm the thick pool of jealousy stirring behind my sternum, but the stale beer and the lingering scent of smoke that has soaked into the walls of this old bar do nothing to dissipate my possessiveness over a girl I’ve only slept with once.

Yet it feels like so much more than that now.

She’s been living with me. Infiltrating my life in more ways than one, which leaves me despising this distance between us because we are worried about what people will think. There are no rules, but as her coach and competitor, I could get us both disqualified if we aren’t careful. Besides the event this weekend, we have one more in Albuquerque, New Mexico, before we head to Fort Worth for the finals.