He placed his hands on the sides of her head and brought her face close to his. “You haven’t seen the good stuff yet.”

“I want your good stuff, Vince.”

He opened his mouth over hers and kissed her. “I want your good stuff,” he added, then kissed her more. Hot, open-mouth kisses that raised his blood pressure and heated his skin. Wet, thrusting kisses that made him hard and aching with need. Long, deep kisses that made him hungry for a lot more. She tasted good. Like long, deep, hot, wet sex. She ran her fingers across his pecs and her palms over his bare stomach. Then she grabbed his waistband and brushed her thumbs across his lower belly. Touching here. Brushing there. Light touches driving him crazy and turning him hard as stone.

She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes bright blue and drugged at the same time. “You’re beautiful, Vince. I want to eat you up.” She kissed the hollow of his throat. “One juicy bite at a time.”

And he wanted to return the favor. One bite at a time in all her juicy spots. If her hands weren’t diving down his pants, he might have told her, but he was having a difficult time breathing. He reached for the bottom of her T-shirt, but she grabbed his wrists and pressed his palms against the door. “Grab wood, Vince. And I don’t mean yours.”

His laughter came out kind of choked. “What’re you planning?” He wasn’t much into bondage.

“Watch. You’ll see.”

And he did. He watched her undo his pants and slide them down his thighs. He’d worn a pair of gray boxer briefs and she pressed her hand against him. Against the soft cotton and the hard edge of his erection. She ran her hot mouth all over him. His shoulder and chest. Then she knelt before him and licked his belly. He groaned deep in his throat and fought the urge to tangle his fingers in her hair. To push her face deeper.

Her teasing fingers brushed his skin as she shoved down his underwear and he sprang free. The hot tip of his erect penis brushed her cheek. “Nice, Vince.”

“You’re not disappointed?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. He was no porn star but he had more than enough to get the job done.

“Not yet.” She took him in her hand and looked up at him. “When I’m through, you’re gonna owe me.”

“Forty cents?” She stroked him in her soft hand and if he’d let himself, he could have come right then. But he had more control than that.

“At least a buck forty.” She kissed the head of his dick, then licked him like a Popsicle. Just when he thought he couldn’t stand the torture of her slick tongue, she opened her hot, wet mouth and took him inside. She sucked him deep and slid her hand up his shaft. He locked his knees and his head fell back against the door. God, don’t let her stop, he thought as his fingers dug into the door to keep from grabbing her hair. Don’t let her stop even to talk. He didn’t mind dirty talk. Most of the time he liked it, but nothing ruined a BJ like conversation.

Years of training steadied his breathing. He sucked even breaths into his lungs as she sucked him closer to the edge. She worked him over with her hands and wet velvet mouth, and he tried to prolong the pleasure. Tried to make it last, but she pulled a fierce orgasm from center mass. From his core, that rushed from his body and into her mouth. He groaned long and deep and might have managed to say something as she stayed with him until the end. Then she redressed him and slid back up his body.

“Worth a buck forty?”

“A buck forty-five.” He ran his hands up and down her back and bottom. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She kissed the side of his throat as her hands moved over his shoulders and chest. She said something he didn’t quite hear.

“Pardon?”

She pulled back and smiled. “Wanna beer?”

Jesus. A blow and a beer. Most guys would consider that a dream come true, but Vince wasn’t most guys. There was something he liked better. He tugged her shirt over her head and lowered his mouth to hers. He liked oral sex. He liked a face full of cleavage, but it was just foreplay. Fun stuff leading up to the real deal.

Vince liked intercourse. Any position. He liked the give and take. The hard thrust and the smooth finesses. He was an insertion guy. “No. I have something better than beer in mind.” He slid his hands to her bra clasp.

Sadie pulled back and looked up into Vince’s green eyes, still drowsy with lust but fully alert. “Don’t you need some recovery time?” All the men she’d ever known needed recovery time.

“No. I’m good to go.” He slid her bra straps down her arms, then tossed it aside. She’d raced home and changed her underwear. She didn’t have anything sexy, but she wanted to at least match. She’d thrown on a pair of white panties to match her white bra. He didn’t seem to notice and settled her bare breasts against his warm chest. “Do you need recovery time?”

Her nipples tightened and he grabbed two handfuls of her behind. As if she weighed nothing, he lifted, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Hot, liquid lust pooled between her thighs. Had pooled between her thighs even before she’d pulled his impressive erection from his pants. “I’m good to go.”

He moved with her through the entry into the dark living room and set her on her feet. He kissed her throat and finished undressing her. His big, warm hands touched her all over as his mouth sucked a soft patch of her throat. Like that night in the bride’s room, she felt herself going fast. This time, she pushed him away and toward her great-grandmother’s settee. “Condom.” She held out her hand.

“You have a choice.” He put three in her palm. Red, green, or blue.

“It’ll match your eyes,” she said, and chose the green.

“You want my dick to match my eyes?”

She tossed the other one on the sofa and watched him strip. “Call me fashionable.” He took off his boots and socks, and pushed his pants and underwear down his big, powerful thighs. There wasn’t an ounce of fat or inch of loose skin anywhere on his tan body. When he was completely naked, she pushed at his chest until he sat. It wasn’t the most romantic sex of her life, but she wasn’t interested in romance.

“What’s the hurry?”

She straddled his lap, and the plush head of his erection brushed her where she needed it most. A shiver worked every cell in her body, and she fought an urge not to go ahead and sit right down on his hot, naked penis. “You said you were good to go.” He certainly looked good to go.

“I am.”

“Then I want to go.” She ripped open the condom and together they rolled it down the long, thick shaft.

He placed a hand on the side of her face and looked into her eyes as he shoved into her. It took a few thrusts and his voice was low and scratchy when he said, “Tight fit.”

“Mmm.” Her head fell back and she grabbed on to his shoulders. Heat spun through her, starting at the intimate place where they touched.

“You feel good up there.” Vince slid his hand from her breasts down her sides to her hips. “Look good, too.”

“Yeah, Vince.” He lifted her, then pushed her back down. “That’s good.”

“Not a waste of getting naked?”

“No.” God, was he going to talk all night? Nothing ruined sex faster than conversation. Especially if a guy said something dumb and broke her concentration. And sometimes it took a lot of concentration so the events of the day didn’t pop into her head.

She rocked her hips and created some fiery friction. He groaned deep in his throat and slid in and out. He was big and powerful and plunged deep. Apparently he wasn’t going to be one of those guys and she didn’t have to try and concentrate on what he did to her. She was in the moment. Consumed by it. The house could have caught fire, and she wouldn’t have noticed as she rode him like one of her daddy’s prized stallions. Racing, long and hard, over and over forever, until the second she tumbled headfirst into a fierce, torrid orgasm that scrambled her brain. It went on out of control, controlling her, as he thrust into her again and again. Just as it began to let her go, he pushed down on her thighs and held her there with his big, strong hands.

“Hooyah,” he groaned deep in his throat. She leaned forward and lightly bit his shoulder. Some people were silent when they orgasmed. Some praised God, while others yelled the F-word. She’d never heard “hooyah” before.


Sadie sliced a flaky croissant, then set it on the cutting board on the kitchen counter. “Do you want avocado on your sandwich?”

“Sounds good.” Vince shook water from several pieces of lettuce, then set them on the counter beside the board.

She was dressed in her T-shirt and panties. He, in his cargo pants. After their workout, they’d worked up an appetite. “The man food is out in the cookhouse,” she said as she spread mayonnaise on the croissants. “Carolynn would never feed the guys croissants.”

“Who’s Carolynn?” He tore off a paper towel and dried his hands.

“Carolynn is the ranch cook.” She filled the croissants with turkey and lettuce and avocado. “She cooks two meals a day for all the hands. A big huge breakfast and a big dinner. Her sister Clara Anne does the housekeeping here and in the bunkhouse.” She moved to the refrigerator and opened it. Cool air touched her bare thighs and she bent forward and grabbed dill pickles, a jar of pepperoncini, and sliced cheese. Since she’d been back, the sisters had kept the house refrigerator and pantry stocked with the sandwich stuff for her. “I think the sisters have been here about thirty years.” She shut the door and turned.

He stood in the middle of the room, his head cocked to one side and eyes on her butt.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He grinned like he’d been caught doing something but wasn’t sorry. “How many men stay in your bunkhouse?”