“Before I made my bid, I touched myself because of you,” I press the words against his ear as I slide over his big body, skin to skin against his heated flesh. “Couldn’t help myself. I was so alone, Jacob. Broken by the divorce. I saw your smile, your beautiful face and I stopped feeling alone. Started feeling alive again. I made myself come and I called your name.”

  “Oh, hell,” he growls, pulling me to straddle him, breasts crushing to his hard chest, the rub of my nipples on his light dusting of hair so erotic I move to do it again. “Make yourself come for me again, Jilly Bean. I want to see it. Got feel it earlier. Now I'm obsessed. Show me how pretty it is.”

  Sitting up on his lap, I aim his thickness between my thighs. We moan in unison as I press it between my soaked folds, my arousal dripping down his velvety shaft. He sits up a little, hands cupping my ass as I start to move. I do not take him inside me yet. I want to. I want to be filled with him.

  Now I just rock slowly, loving the breeze on my skin, the smell of the earth and hay. His mouth closes around one nipple as his hand palms the other breast roughly, pulling and twisting the nipple. I cry out, loving the pain. His teeth bite down because he knows I like it. Rocking faster, I grow wild with need, wanting to come for him, wanting him to see how he turns me on.

  Jacob leans back a little, staring up at me in the darkness. There is something so intimate as we sit locked in this embrace, the soft sounds of our bodies meeting, the way he holds me closer and closer, the heat in his eyes. It is unlike anything I have ever felt before. I had no idea it could ever be this way. Rocking faster, I bend to kiss him, and he opens his mouth, saying my name as my tongue slips past his lips.

  “Take it, Jilly Bean,” he moans as I bounce faster, his cock rubbing between my folds, the crown hitting my clit. “Take what you need baby.”

  “Jacob!” I shout, head falling back, chest heaving as I come, my thighs trembling as he keeps moving me on his lap. I gasp when I feel him come too, hot jets of cum hitting my pussy, my thighs, my stomach.

  “Ah, fuck,” he growls, turning me to pin me beneath him. I think he is going to shove inside of me, take what he wants. What I want too. Only, he doesn’t. Brow furrowed, his eyes soften as he stares down at me. “Oh, my Jilly Bean. Come here, let me hold you again.”

  It is then I realize I am sobbing. Body shaking, air stealing, gut wrenching sobs. His powerful arms gather me close, and I hide against his chest. His rough hand rubs circles at my back as I fall apart in his arms. It is the hardest cry I have had in a long time. Full of relief, regret, and guilt.

  Earlier I thought this was a mistake. Coming here to flirt or fool around with some stud cowboy. It was a mistake but not for the reasons I thought. I had no idea we would connect this way. That I would feel whole when I am with him. Feel safe when he takes my hand or pulls me close. Things I have not felt in so long. Things I was not sure I would ever get to feel again.

  “Jacob,” I start, unsure what I want to say. How can I recover now?

  “Calm down, honey. Tell me about the last time you rode a horse.”

  “Uh,” I close my eyes, thinking about our ride tonight, his big hand in my panties. He does not mean that ride. “On my grandpa’s farm in Fellow Falls. I spent summers there. Riding horses, walking the trails, even fishing. Poppa would pack peanut butter and banana sandwiches for us out on his little boat. We would talk about my dad who died when I was little. Out on the boat with him it almost felt like it was the three of us. He would let me ride horses all day if I wanted to.”

  “Sounds like a good man, honey.”

  “He was. I loved him. Always told me he was proud of me. I always tell my little girl how proud I am of her. I never want her to think for a second, I regret being with her dad. I never could because of her. We just...it ended.”

  “How’re you doing with it? You came here to feel something you said.”

  “That was a lie, I think,” I admit, hidden against his chest. “I came here for you, Jacob. I was never going to bid on that auction before I saw you. I meant what I said before. About what I did, once I saw you.”

  Jacob pulls back, both of us lying on our sides, our bodies tangled together. It is the truth. I was alone. I was hurting. Until I saw his face. I still have no idea what it means. Or what I am doing coming here. What is it I am searching for? What do I expect from him in just one night?”

  “Glad I got a front row show of that,” he teases with a smile, his hand sliding over my hip. Grabbing a rough handful of my bare backside, he tugs me closer. “Jillian, whatever you want to do while you have me, we can do. Do not feel guilty. No regrets. Nothing is off limits with me. Not because you bid on me or because you just let me come all over you,” he smirks, slapping my ass before he sobers, touching his brow to mine.

  “It doesn’t matter to you I am leaving tomorrow?”

  His reaction is almost as if I had slapped him. I want to take the words back but they’re the truth. Tomorrow, I go back home to my quiet house to wait for my little girl to come home. No more steamy nights beneath the stars with a hot cowboy. No more feeling safe. Not more being whole. My chest aches at the idea of being emptied again, of being without him even.

  I joked about being roped in for a kiss by him—he roped me in for a hell of a lot more.

  “It does matter. It can’t matter though, can it? You have a life waiting. Your little girl. Take what you need from me while you’re here.”

  Snuggling against his chest, I nod. I can do that. It is not fair of me, but I can do that. We lie together in the dark talking about horses, about life on a ranch, about the wide-open spaces of this place. His words become so passionate when he talks about working with the rescued horses, with bringing them back to life and it hits me. That is why he was the one I chose, the reason I knew he would give me what I needed.

  Jacob wants to save the wounded—and I was wounded, looking to be saved.

  If he saves me the way I think he can, how can I leave him?

  Chapter Seven

  Jacob

  Sweet smelling, silky soft skin pressed against mine is heaven.

  Jillian’s warm skin against mine reminds me of all the things we did last night, all of which I want to do again. My hand is full of a full, round tit, the other shoved possessively between her thick thighs. A little sigh sounds as my fingers play with her soft folds. They grow wet beneath my touch, and I grunt, spreading her slit open to play with it.

  “Jacob,” she whimpers, her leg lifting just slightly to let me play.

  “Honey, let me play with you. You don’t want me to stop do you?”

  “God, no,” she moans, her ass rubbing against me. “Please don’t.”

  Smirking against her throat, I kiss there, rubbing my stone hard cock between her thighs, teasing us both. Pulling back, I almost laugh when she glares up at me. I made her come with my fingers a few times last night. Now I want something else. I want to give her more. I want to take more.

  “Don’t pout at me, Jilly Bean. I will take care of you,” I promise, even though I have no idea how to do this.

  Sliding down her body, pinning her arms above her head as she wriggles beneath me, I kiss her skin. God, she smells so good. I want it on my skin, on my clothes, on my hands, so I never forget it. I lick between her breasts, taking time to suck, bite, flick at her nipples the way I found she likes. We spent plenty of time last night finding out what we like to do to each other.

  It was more than fooling around last night. Jillian talked to me for hours. Until the sun was about to come up. We got back on the horse for a while but that got hot fast, so we wound up making out like horny teenagers beneath a tree. Not that you would hear me complain.

  Whatever we’re doing has her smiling, laughing, feeling good, and that is all that matters. That is what I want to see. It is all I can hope to give her. Well, plus all the orgasms I can manage. Grinning up at her, I kiss her hips, her thighs, the mound over her pretty pussy. A small strip of curls glistens in the sunshine and I smile, lowering my face to nuzzle there.

  “Oh, my hell,” her raspy voice cries out as I shove my tongue inside her. It’s sweet, a little salty, the silky heat closing greedily on my tongue.

  Jillian’s hands comb through my hair, tugging as I start to lick and suck at her. It is noisier than I expect and, hell, that is hot as fuck. Her pants as she rocks against my tongue, telling me where to lick her, where to suck, how to work my fingers into her with my tongue, they’re so hot I feel cum leaking from my stiff dick.

  “Jesus, eating your pussy is going to make me come, baby,” I grunt, teeth scraping over the tiny nub that pokes out at me, begging for attention.

  “Come on me,” she purrs, wriggling beneath me. “It turns me on. Eat me until I come then come on me,” she commands, leaving no room for debate.

  It’s when my tongue lashes at her clit as I pump my fingers into her the way I want to pump my cock into her that she starts to come. It’s louder than my eating her out is. Her shouts echo off the Iron Hills as she comes, my mouth soaked with her sweet, saltiness. Kneeling between her thighs, I start to jerk my jutting cock, but she is there.

  Staring up at me, she leans forward, licking the sticky tip. Cupping the back of her head, I push at her mouth. With the hottest, filthiest grin I have ever seen, her mouth pops open and I push inside. Having her hot, wet mouth wrapped around me is a whole new heaven and I don’t last long.

  “Ah, hell, I’m going to come,” I hiss, pulling back with a pop, fisting myself as I blow. Her head tilts back, tongue out, she lets me go wherever I want. It hits her mouth, her cheeks, her throat, her tits. I’ve never come as much as I have since she showed up on my doorstep and I know I won’t ever again after she’s gone.

  Collapsing together, we’re breathless as we come down from our highs. Jillian jumps up moments later, giving a shake of her butt before she runs off towards the creek running alongside where we made camp. Made camp is saying a lot. We weren’t ready to go back to the ranch, so we laid out here cuddled up together all night. Best night of camping of my life.

  Chasing after her, I laugh as she shrieks at the cool waters after diving in. I wade in slower, watching her dump handfuls of water on her creamy skin, washing me off her. I don’t much like that. Might have to find an excuse to put some back. Coming up behind her, I wrap her in my arms as we stare out over Iron Hills, enjoying the fresh air, the view, each other.

  “This must be a beautiful life, cowboy,” she whispers, her body trembling against mine. It is warmer now, the water wonderful against our skin. Her body is not trembling from the cold—no this is something else.

  “Thought it was. It was all I ever wanted to do. Be a cowboy. Before my parents died, my pop loved watching old westerns. We rode horses and went to the rodeo when I was little. Never catch him listening to anything but Hank or Johnny Cash. After I lost them, I guess I got lost for a while.”

  “This is your home now though. With the horses, with the ranch.”

  Knowing the answer to that, she turns to peer up at me. It might have been the truth yesterday or the day before. Today…I ain’t sure anymore. Not when I have been given a glimpse of a different kind of home. One with a woman who loves life the way she does, who is brave enough to give it another go after it upended on her.

  “Thought it was,” I repeat, not breaking our gaze. Cupping her chin in my hand, I lower my head slowly. I give her time to stop me. We’ve done plenty of kissing, of touching, of pleasing each other. This is different.

  Jillian tilts her head back, sighing as I seal my mouth to hers. Her wet body presses to mine, and I bend, lifting her in the water. Wrapping her whole body around mine, she kisses me deeply, hungrily, sealing my fate for good. I won’t be done with her after one night. How could I be?

  “Jillian, baby….” I start to tell her just that when a tinkling sound startles me. The horse neighs at the foreign sound, pulling from the tree I tied it to. Jillian’s eyes darken as they stare up at me. Blinking, she seems to come out of whatever stupor that kiss put her in, cursing shakily.

  “It’s…it’s my phone, Jacob. I need to get it. He…he calls for Jocie.”

  Now the water feels ice cold. It’s him. The husband. A man from her past who hurt her. Jillian claims he never tried to hurt her, but he walked away from her. He her down at the very least. How could he be so dumb? Why would a man ever walk away from a woman like Jillian?

  Watching her dash towards the blanket we laid on, I try to calm myself. Try to rein in my anger and jealousy. Neither of which I have a right to feel. Jillian owes me nothing. They share a child. A little girl who is going through a divorce the same as they are. I am being an idiot.

  Even knowing that, I can’t stop it. I climb from the water, letting the water sluice off my body as she stares at me. Giving a few tugs at my still jutting shaft, I smirk at her. Flushing, she turns from me, reaching for her clothes. I reach them first, sliding not her shirt but mine over her damp shoulders. I want her wrapped up in me when she talks to another man.

  “Be back, honey,” I tell her, kissing her mouth before she can respond to whatever he is going on about.

  Pulling on my jeans, I don’t bother to zip them as I saunter to the horse. Taking an apple and some oats out of the horse’s satchel, I get him fed before leading him to the creek. As I pass her, I smack her ass, the loud crack echoing off the hills. Chuckling, I wink at her before I palm myself again. Jillian frowns, shaking her head at my childish behavior.

  “Come on Lighting, let’s get you taken care of boy.”

  “I-I am here. Yes. Once each morning. Yeah. I am great. Having a good time,” glancing back when she says this, I see her glaring at me. Well, if we were having a good time it is obvious we’re not anymore.

  Jillian walks away to talk, her voice quiet, her posture agitated. It pisses me off. Not just because she is hiding from me. Because whatever they’re talking about has her on edge. Watching her pace, twirl her damp hair, even laughing changes my mind about that. What she is doing is looks a hell of a lot like flirting with another man.

  Yanking my jeans up, I stuff myself back in them, mumbling a string of curses. I have no right to be jealous. No right to be upset. I repeat it in my head until it almost sounds true. Until she turns to look at me as they talk. How she is watching me as she talks makes my heart double time.

  Giving up my pity party, I go to her. I want to make it clear her past does not bother me. Not her former husband or her little girl. None of it would run me off. Nothing could run me off from a woman like Jillian. Hesitating, I tilt my head at her, asking her ok to come invade her space.

  “Can I....” I trail off as she takes two big steps to press against my chest. Sighing, I cradle her close, kissing the top of her head.

  “Tell her I love her. Tell her to have the best time with papa. Yes, with you too, Elliot. I miss her so much, but she needs time with daddy.”

  Damp skin pressed to mine; she rubs her cheek against my chest. I reach up, swiping at her tears without needing to see them. I tighten my hold on her, imagining how hard it must be to be separated from her little girl. It is new for her. New for a toddler who adores both her parents. I kick myself for being such a jealous asshole a moment ago.

  If I wanted to show her past was not an issue I failed that task miserably. How could I have been so childish? Jillian has been here less than twenty-four hours. Her time with her husband, with her daughter, is no comparison. I should never have gotten so wound up over a simple call.

  “I miss her. Jocie would love it here. Just the way I loved being at my papa’s place as a little girl,” she mumbles against my chest, her hands locked behind my neck, fingers combing through my hair.

  It could be just another moment of a dozen special moments with this woman. It is a hell of a lot more. Hearing her talk about life on the ranch, on this ranch, pleasing someone she loves makes me think it would please her. Being here, with me, would make her happy, I think. Holding her in the sunshine as she talks about what she loves most—her daughter—is special.

  “You would love it here too, honey,” I whisper against her temple, pressing a kiss there.

  Pulling back, I frame her beautiful face in my rough hands, letting her see what I mean. Without words, I am asking her to think about it. To consider giving life here a chance. It has been just a day, less than that, but she is happier than when she got here. I can make her happier. I can make it a place she loves, I am sure of it.

  “I think I would,” she replies, eyes shining in the warm light.

  Nodding, I draw her closer, bending to lift her up again. Jillian laughs as I pull at the flannel I just wrapped her in. Her soft body presses against mine as my mouth meets her. Going back to the water, I walk in with her wound around me. After we play in the water for a while, we saddle up for a ride.

  With her nestled against me, my arms tight around her, we ride for hours. I show her all my favorite places, making sure to kiss her good and deep at each one. I want her to remember them this way, with me. And I want to remember her being here with me if I can’t convince her to stay.

  “You said you never did rodeo. But you do rope tricks?”

  “Just for fun. With the steer trainer or bales of hay. Couldn’t bring myself to rope any of kids or horses. Wouldn’t want to hurt them, would I?”

  “No, honey, I don’t think you would want to hurt anything.”

  Smiling, I bend down to kiss her, sighing as the kiss deepens. There is something about riding together, bodies bouncing together, the warm breeze, it does something to us. If we ride, we wind up tangled up in hungry kisses with hungrier touches. Not sure riding a horse will ever be the same for me.

  “Gosh it is beautiful here. If you weren’t at the ranch, where would you be, Jacob?”

  Thinking about her answer for a moment, I smile. “At another ranch. My own if I could manage it. One where I take care of wounded horses. Ones that were forgotten the same way I was.”

  “I could never forget you,” she whispers suddenly, twisting to stare back at me.

 

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