Page 24 of Broken Cedar

He sinks in another inch. My back arches in a jolt, pressing my tits against his chest through the thin cotton of my shirt.

“More,” I hiss, slinging my legs around his hips, locking my ankles at the small of his back. “Please.”

He sinks deeper. “God, Hallie. You feel too fucking good.” The words are ragged. Torn from somewhere deep.

I rock my hips. Wordless. Urgent. He answers by sliding out—almost all the way—then pushing back in, slowly, deliberately. The drag of him inside me draws a moan from somewhere low in my throat. My hands find his face, holding him, keeping him close.

“Oh, Colt,” I murmur. My body moves in time with his on instinct.

“Does that feel good?” he asks against my jaw. His mouth finds the spot beneath my ear, nipping and kissing.

I nod eagerly, my eyes closed. The pleasure is building again, different this time—deeper, more sustained. “Y-yes.”

I lock my legs tighter around his waist, tip my hips back to change the angle, and Colt groans into the crook of my neck. His hand digs into my thigh as he holds me open, and he thrusts harder. Deeper. Each thrust has the table creaking beneath us, my shirt riding up.

Then my orgasm hits, sudden and overwhelming, and I’m crying out his name like I’m begging for something. Colt, Colt, Colt. He answers with a grunt, his hips stuttering, and I feel him come inside me while I’m still pulsing around him, my pussy clutching at his cock in waves that don’t seem to end.

“Fuck,” I murmur, pressing a hand to my eyes. The world is blurry at the edges. My heart is hammering. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah.” Colt’s voice is rough. He pulls out of me carefully, and I feel the absence immediately. He strides to the sink, wets a dish towel under the tap, and comes back. Then he’s kneeling on the floor between my spread legs, gently wiping me clean.

I lean up onto my elbows and watch the top of his head. His hair is mussed from my fingers and there’s a flush across the back of his neck. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Colt finishes and sets the towel aside. He looks up at me, eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Okay?” he asks, glancing up at me.

I nod. Because what else is there to say? He rinses the dish towel and hangs it to dry. I pull my jeans back on, my legs still shaky, my body humming in places I’d forgotten could hum.

He checks his watch, then rubs the back of his neck. “I should get to work. There’s a storm expected to hit in a couple of days, and I’ve been putting the hands on everything else since you got here.”

“Since I got here?” I lean against the table, arms crossed. “You blaming me for your poor delegation skills?”

“Not blaming.” His mouth does that almost-smile thing. “They’ve been covering for me. I owe them.”

“I’ll help.” The words are out before I’ve thought about them. “I’ve got nothing better to do. Mom’s out. Emails can wait.”

He looks at me like he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” I push off the table. “Besides, when was the last time you checked fences without someone to talk at? You’d be bored within an hour.”

“I don’t get bored.”

“Everyone gets bored, Colt. Even you.”

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t argue. We grab boots from the mudroom. He hands me a pair of work gloves that are too big for my hands. I put them on anyway.

Outside, the ranch is already awake. A truck rumbles past the house, pulling a trailer loaded with feed. Two ranch hands lean against the fence near the barn, coffee cups in hand, laughing about something I can’t hear.

One of them spots Colt and lifts a hand. “Morning, boss.”

Colt nods. “Morning, Ben.”

The man glances at me, then grins. “Well, look who finally came back.”

I smile before I can stop myself. “Guess I haven’t changed that much.”

“Hard to forget someone who used to sneak apples to the horses when they weren’t supposed to have them.”

I point at Colt. “He told you about that?”