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He ignored her comment, including the innuendo, only grabbing the towel hanging on the outside of the stall, and rubbed Ursula down, drying her off. He’d learned that when Bailey’s snarkiness showed up, she was annoyed or pissed. She’d have to get over it. He wasn’t risking her safety for a horse. Instead of helping him, Bailey stepped outside the stall, rolling up the hose and disappearing. Uneasy that she was upset with him, he followed her, intent on trying to fix it, to make herunderstand the danger. He had no clue how, especially since she didn’t understand how serious it was, but he would try.
He walked behind the hose as it was being dragged into the empty stall next to Ursula, focused on what he could say to make this right. “This stall is unoccupied. We don’t need the hose in—”
Just as he rounded the corner into the stall, she hit him with the blast of water. He jerked back in surprise, and hands up, he fought against the spray, reaching out to yank the hose from her hands. She snatched it back, pulling at the hose, and the water sprayed everywhere, continuing to soak them both.
“Damnit, Bailey. Stop.”
“Fuck you.”
Dropping her grip on the hose, she pushed at his chest, and he moved backwards voluntarily until his back hit the stall. Then he grabbed her wrists, holding her hands between them while she calmed down. She stared up at him, eyes blazing, chest heaving, and he tried to control his urge to pull her to him, to rip those soaked clothes from her body and warm her up. But he couldn’t. Not without some kind of commitment, some kind of guarantee she wouldn’t run from him.
“I’m trying to keep you safe. I know you think—”
“I don’t need you, or anyone, to keep me safe. I’m not helpless, despite what everyone thinks.”
He clenched his jaw, frustrated that everything he tried to do was thrown back in his face. He lowered his voice, trying to reason with her, but all he could think about was how wet they both were, how close she was, and how little effort it would take to press her body to his.
“If that was true, why are you here? What do you need from me, wild thing?”
Her face changed, and she pushed that last inch, her heat gliding over his skin. He held his breath for a second, waiting forwhat she would do next, knowing he was moments from losing control.
“What I need? I only need one thing. From one person. But you won’t give it to me. I need you to stop being a goody-two-shoes and fuck me.”
He swore under his breath, and she pulled away when he released her wrists. Slowly, she backed up, her gaze never wavering as she pulled her tank over her head, tossing it across the stall door. The lacy little bra she wore underneath followed, and she stood there in only jeans and boots, her hair in a long braid hanging over her naked shoulder.
His eyes dropped to her breasts, a perfect handful for him, the tight, pink little nipples begging to be licked. He was staring so hard, he didn’t notice how close she had come to him until she plucked the cowboy hat from his head, placing it on her own.
“You know the rules, Nas. What are you going to do about it?”
She stood proudly, hands on her hips, tight, wet jeans molded to her legs, naked from the waist up, and her breasts called to him, begging for his touch. For a long moment, they both stared at each other, but then he moved fast.
Pushing her against the stable wall and pinning her hands above her head, he captured her mouth with his. She was sweet and soft, her lips moving under his just as hungrily, and when she pushed her tongue into his mouth, he felt a feral growl rising in his body.
They broke for air, and his mouth trailed along her neck, one hand sliding to her waist and down to cup her ass in the wet jeans. “Is this what you want, wild thing? You want another trophy on your wall?” Reaching down, he lifted her feet, pulling and throwing one boot at a time. “Or do you—” He unbuttoned her jeans… “just need—” …tugged down her zipper… “a good—” …and yanked her jeans to her ankles… “fucking?”
His thumb flicked over her nipple, pinching before he bent to scoop her knees over his elbows, bringing her chest to mouth level. She wrapped arms around his head, arching when he pulled her nipple into his mouth, then switched to the other.
“I just need you.” Her breathy moan was punctuated by her nails digging into his scalp as he worked his way down her stomach. “I need you inside me, fucking me, now. I’ve waited too long. Please…”
Like she weighed nothing, he tossed her up again, pulling her knees over his shoulders this time, and she squealed when he brought her pussy to his mouth. Her red satin thong was his only barrier, and he kissed through the tiny triangle, teasing her. “Hands on the wood.”
She leaned backward, grabbing the wooden rafter, dropping her head back as she pulsed towards his face. “Nas…more.”
“No talking.” He worked his mouth along her inner thigh, whispering past the thin fabric of her underwear to her soft skin. “You want me to fuck you, then I’m in charge, and you do what I say.”
She moaned, rocking against him, but she didn’t speak again, so with one hand, he ripped the red satin away from her body, exposing every inch of her to him. Bracing his legs and wrapping his arms around the back of her thighs, and circling to the front, he let his hot breath play across her clit, teasing her. “You think you’ve earned this? That you deserve to have your pussy eaten?” She whimpered, attempting to grind against his face, but he pulled back, only letting his lips graze against her.
“Only good girls get to come on my face. How good have you been, wild thing?”
“So good. I can be good. I can be so good for you.”
He barely heard her, the throaty whisper muffled by her thighs as they clenched against both sides of his head. Pullingbackward, opening her thighs wider, he teased her, needing to be in control while she begged.
“You were told not to talk. Already being so bad.”
Sliding his tongue from her clit down, he licked her pussy in long, deliberate strokes, building her pleasure until she groaned in need. When he pulled her clit into his mouth, and sucked gently, using his lips and tongue to apply pressure, she screamed, grabbing his head with one hand.
But he pulled away, smacking her ass in a reminder. “Hands on the wood.”
