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She didn’t have to say it. He knew by the pulsing within her against his fingers and tongue.
And God, he was thrilled.
He had to have her, and he had to have her now.
He gently eased his fingers from her and left the bed for a moment to grab his wallet out of his pants and the condom out of his wallet. He sheathed himself in record time and plowed into her tight depths.
“God!” So good, so very good. He pumped and pumped, her hips rising to meet him. He met her mouth with a sizzling kiss, all the while thrusting harder and faster.
When he’d almost reached the brink, he pulled out, turned her over gently, and entered her from behind.
Doggy style. He loved that position. Loved them all. He wanted her on top next, riding him like she rode her barrel racing mare. Only faster and stronger and never ending.
He thrust again. Her sweet ass cheeks wiggled against his hips—beautiful. Everything about her was beautiful, but Sam was a self-professed ass man.
Well, and a boob man.
Aw, hell, he loved it all.
Even her back was sexy—smooth and creamy and all her.
Sydney.
What a woman.
Finally, he could hold out no longer.
“Now, honey, now,” he said, and he reached underneath her and rubbed her swollen clit.
When her orgasm began, he let go. Tiny convulsions started at the base of his cock and spread through his length. As the orgasm erupted, the spasms darted through his body, spreading to his arms and legs. Nirvana. He went rigid and plunged into her as far as he could, letting the climax take him.
Shudders racked his body, and when the contractions finally died down, his legs shook. When he stood to dispose of the condom, they felt like jelly.
They rested a bit, shared a glass of wine.
Then they started again.
* * *
Sam saw only darkness. He opened his eyes. When had he closed them? His erection pressed against his jeans. Well, wouldn’t be getting up from this seat for a while. Good thing the opening ceremonies were still going on. Man, that Mark guy was a windbag. Was it really necessary to introduce the florist? Sheesh.
The memory of that night filled Sam with happiness.
Happiness. How long had happiness been missing from his life?
He wasn’t unhappy. Not at all. Yet life had grown stale. He simply existed from day to day. Even when he went on the road to rodeos, as now, his life held little meaning. No one needed him anymore. Dusty had Zach and their son. His ranch was thriving and his able foreman took care of everything. He had dated a few times in the last several years, but he hadn’t found anyone who really brought meaning into his life.
Day to day to day to day—the life of Sam O’Donovan.
But at this moment, he was smiling. Joy coursed through his veins.
Sydney Buchanan.
He’d tried once to look her up after he returned to Montana but hadn’t kept looking for very long. He’d had a bankrupt ranch to look after. He could have found her if he’d looked harder.
He’d given up.
No more giving up.
