13. Wilder
13
WILDER
LARAMIE, WYOMING — LATE JULY
C harlotte hasn’t left Rooney’s side. Not that I blame her, but it doesn’t keep me from worrying, either. She’s pale, her shoulders slumped, and her hands keep braiding and unbraiding a section of his mane. The usually confident, vibrant Charlotte is now closed off and sullen. She looks so small on the stable floor with Rooney’s large head resting on her legs.
Before the vet showed up, some of the other cowboys and I got Rooney moved into a different stall. It’s larger and more isolated in the stable, a better space for the vet to work without us getting in the way. There’s even a little room off the side with a cot tucked against the wall. I take another look around and realize it’s likely where they bring the horses to give birth or for severely injured livestock that need round-the-clock care. It’s perfect, as I know Charlotte won’t listen if I suggest she go back to the trailer tonight. In fact, I plan on her not doing it.
The vet assured us Rooney’s bite is mild. It’s likely the snake bit defensively, injecting a low volume of venom instead of outwardly in attack. It was probably spooked by Rooney being close, striking fast and making a hasty exit. He’s had a round of antivenom, and the wound has been cleaned and bandaged. A few of the staff walked the perimeter of the stable, finding it curled up not far from the hole in the siding, soaking up the sun without a care in the world. I was told it will permanently be without a care now that it has met its end.
I take up the spot next to Charlotte, extending my legs alongside her own, and look deep into Rooney’s chocolate eyes. They’re a little dull, the dose of pain medication the vet administered doing its job to keep him placid and compliant. He needs to stay off his leg for the first twenty-four hours so blood doesn’t pool at the wound site, causing further complications. I stroke my favorite spot on his muzzle; it has the barest polka dot of cream mixed with the mottled brown-red hues of his coat. Rooney’s velvety soft lips move searchingly, maybe hoping I have a peppermint for him, but close when he realizes I don’t have a treat to offer. He’s been so good; didn’t protest any of the vet’s examinations or treatment. A strong, steady horse that stayed focused on Charlotte before resting easy with her continued attention.
“Charlotte.” I place one of my hands over hers, stilling the mindless weaving. I don’t know if it’s my touch or the use of her full name that has her lifting her eyes, but it’s the first time in hours she’s really looked at me. It takes barely a breath before the green of her gaze swims behind a pooling of tears. “Oh, baby.” I cradle the back of her head, burying her face against my chest at an awkward angle to let her cry it out. “He’s okay. The vet says he’ll make a full recovery. He just needs a few weeks.”
Her cries sputter and ease through hiccups and snorts. It’s a raw and vulnerable moment, not a trace of vanity in how she runs her sleeve across her face, wiping the remains of her tears and snot. She pushes back, Rooney adjusting to lay his head alongside her thigh opposite me. His breathing is level and strong, indicating he’s fallen asleep. Charlotte’s splotchy face holds nothing but tender affection and concern, but there’s a small spark of her usual verve hiding in the corners of her eyes. She runs one more hand through his mane before facing me.
“Wilder!” The life rushes back into her countenance, shock popping her eyes wide and mouth open. “What time is it? Your ride! What are you doing here?” In a flash, she’s off the floor, reaching back to hoist me to my feet in a move so similar to how we met I can’t help but laugh. My chuckle sets her glaring at me and spinning on her heel, words continuing to tumble from her. “Tim is going to be so mad at me! I missed riding. You missed riding! What were you thinking?”
“Hey, hey, hey.” I grab hold of her wrist, turning to pin her arm gently against her side, pressing her to me. I kiss her softly, her lips yielding to mine, even in her flustered state. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
The fighting energy leaves her with the next exhale.
“But your ride? Tim must be so upset with me.” Charlotte’s words are concerned and searching, just like her eyes that flit back and forth across my face. I release her, bringing her hand to rest atop my heart, letting her feel it beating. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for, baby.” I hold her tight. “Tim’s a grown-ass man. He figured it out. He stopped by long enough to check in.”
I don’t tell her that Tim finally grew a set of balls and sent Brett packing. According to the chatter in the barn, it was made especially dramatic as it was done from the back of a horse as Tim prepared to take up the recovery spot himself. There will be time to fill her in on that later.
“And you? What about your standing?”
“One scratched ride won’t hurt me.” I shrug. She gives an unsure nod, not fully buying that I’m happy to miss riding tonight. But I am. It doesn’t do her any good to know I’ll likely catch hell from the Horizon reps for not fulfilling my photograph obligations. They’ll have to accept my apologies and excuses. The moment I saw the broken look on Charlotte’s face as I approached Rooney’s original stall, there was nothing more important than doing everything I could to look after her. To make this right.
Rooney is likely to miss the next several weeks, and I know Charlotte hasn’t processed what that means for her just yet. Without Rooney, she can’t race. If she can’t race, she can kiss her Nationals title goodbye. I refuse to let that happen. As the vet worked, I put in some calls. First to Curtis, and then to the contacts he provided. Tomorrow, once we figure out where Charlotte is comfortable boarding Rooney for his recovery, I’ll tell her about the surprise waiting a couple of hours away.
With a final squeeze around my waist, Charlotte leans back and takes in our surroundings. She pulls the horse blanket from the stall wall and covers Rooney, content that he’ll sleep for most of the night. Uncertainly, as though trying to figure out what to do next, she turns back to me.
“There’s a cot just through there.” I indicate the doorway on her right. Relief flashes across her face as she moves to investigate. Her fingers trail along the small bundle of pajamas and toiletries I grabbed from the trailer earlier. She gives me a surprised look. I prop one arm against the door frame, leaning heavily on it before pulling my hat from my head and hanging it on a nearby hook. I run my hand across the back of my neck, smiling as I watch her. “I’ll go back and get anything else we need, okay? You want your headphones for the new episode of Murder, We Heard ? I’ll bring back some Cup O’ Noodles. Won’t be anything fancy, but you’ve got to eat at some point.”
She spins back to me. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
“Well, I just—if you don’t want me to stay, I won’t. I don’t like the idea of you staying here by yourself tonight, and I know you’ll never agree to leaving Rooney.” I’ve barely finished speaking when Charlotte launches herself into my arms. It backs me up a pace or two until I right myself. It takes half a second for my arms to support her thighs, encouraging her to wrap her legs around me as tightly as the arms around my neck are. Her face burrows against my neck, whispering “thank yous” against my skin. “Guess I can stay?”
“Of course, you can.” Charlotte pulls back enough to lean her forehead against mine. “I don’t want you to be anywhere else.” She presses her lips to mine, a warm, hungry kiss that doesn’t last nearly as long as I want it to. I walk us in the direction of the doorway she came from. I keep her steady in my arms until we’re just inside the small, dark space. Only a faint yellow glow spills inside, but it’s enough for me to see where to set her safely on her feet.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” I kiss her again, long and deep. All the mixed-up feelings I have for her fighting to make themselves known: admiration, attraction, and something I’ve started to believe might really be love.
“Can you do something for me?” The question slips from her lips when I finally break away from her to take a long, necessary breath. There’s an adorable little pinch between her eyebrows.
“Name it.”
I find I mean it.
I’m not sure there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Charlotte Stryker. Somewhere between the barbed insults, the first kiss, and today, she’s ingrained herself in me. I breathe in her scent and never want it to be gone from my lungs. I kiss her sweet lips and want the taste branded in my soul. I think of her and can’t see a future she isn’t a part of. But now isn’t the time to tell her any of that. Right now, she needs me, and I’m happy to give her anything she asks for.
“Remember how you promised me there would come a time you’d fuck me, quick and dirty?” Her eyes are wide, searching, and full of anticipation. Just hearing her talk like this has my cock twitching. Everything about the situation is wrong to be considering her suggestion, but there’s also a sense of desperation in her words. I reach for the elastic at the end of her braid, tugging it free to weave my fingers through her loosening plait.
“Is that what you need right now?” I ask, cradling the back of her head, holding her still to see if she really means it. Charlotte gives a small nod of approval.
“It’s not going to be soft and sweet.” I kiss her cheek on one side and then the other.
“I won’t care that someone could hear us.” I drop lower, trailing my lips to her neck, sucking hard enough for it to sting and leave a mark.
“It doesn’t bother me that we’re someplace where anyone could walk in on us.” I’m rewarded with a groan in my ear and hands that grip my sides.
“But I can promise I’ll have you coming so hard you forget everything else but the feeling of a well-worn pussy and aching throat.” I nudge the collar of her shirt aside as I undo the top button, clamping my jaws over the tendon of her shoulder and biting down.
“Fuck, Wild!” Charlotte hisses but drops her head to the side to give me better access. I stay there, working my mouth against her sensitive skin until I know she’ll wear my mark tomorrow. A reddish-purple bruise showing everyone she’s mine. At that thought, I finish my ministrations with a nip.
Mine.
“Get out of these jeans for me, baby.” I ghost my hands along her sides, gripping her hips to accentuate my command. With a slight fumble, Charlotte eagerly shucks her boots and everything below her waist. I reach down to readjust myself through my jeans when she’s left in her button-down western shirt. Her long hair cascades down her back and over her shoulder in waves, and I smirk when she nervously reaches up to toy with the ends.
“Now, be a good girl and get on your knees at the edge of the cot. Lean forward and put your hands on the wall.” I don’t miss the way her pupils flare when I call her a “good girl” and reach for the buckle of my belt. Charlotte climbs atop the cot. It lets out a protesting groan, the springs squeaking noisily, and I can’t help the dark chuckle that escapes me. “Oh, baby, everyone in this stable is about to know exactly what I’m doing to you. Last chance to back out.”
I shift through the canvas bag storing Charlotte’s toothbrush and other necessities until my fingers find the edge of a familiar foil package. I pluck the condom out of the pouch, holding it between my teeth while I wait for an answer. I hope she doesn’t say ‘no’; my cock is aching to be inside her, my heart pulsing with a similar need for closeness.
“No.” Charlotte’s voice is full of conviction, the look she gives me over her shoulder determined. “Take me for a ride, Cowboy.”
I tear the foil with my teeth as I use my other hand to work my belt and jeans loose. With my pants and briefs around my knees, I quickly roll the condom over my cock, pumping it a few times before I step up behind Charlotte. With her legs spread wide for balance and her back arched, her hips are angled so the faint light catches a glimmer of the wetness I see gathering at her pussy. I groan, swiping my thumb from clit to cleft, eliciting a surprised moan from her.
Charlotte’s head drops as I bring the taste of her to my lips, sucking the sweetness off at the same time I tease the head of my aching cock through her heat. It flutters at my attention like it’s already trying to pull me in, exactly where I want to bury myself. Gripping her hips with one hand, I line myself up with the other and push inside. I continue until I’m flush against her.
I lean over, hand resting next to hers on the wall, panting against her back and listening to her do the same. We both need a moment; one for Charlotte to adjust comfortably and two, so that I don’t blow my load before I’ve even moved.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so tight,” I tell her, moving my hand from the wall to run up and down her back, stirring the peach scent in the strands of her loose hair. I tilt my hips back, giving an experimental thrust, dragging my cock slowly inside her. Charlotte gasps, reaching a hand for her breasts. I intercept her movement, guiding her hand back to the wall while growling in her ear, “No, no, baby. I get to do this. You wanted me to. Asked me to fuck you, down and dirty, so now your pleasure is mine.” I nip at the flesh of her lobe and bring my hands to the collar of her shirt, my hips and her hands keeping us balanced. “You trust me to do that, don’t you? Give you exactly what you’re after?” I get no answer, so I push myself as deep as I can go, prompting a response.
“Yes, Wild!” Charlotte pants out, so I pull back a little again. She’s nodding enthusiastically and looking at me over her shoulder. I kiss the tip of her nose to settle her down and reassure her. I’m gifted the most beautiful and trusting smile in return.
“That’s my girl,” I soothe before taking each side of her shirt and pulling. The snaps break apart, bearing her lace-clad breasts to the night, and I start pumping into her. With her arms still through the sleeves, I pull her shirt back toward me, removing her hands from the wall. Charlotte wobbles unsteadily when she loses her support, but I take the disruption in my stride. My hips continue driving into her as I lean back, bringing her upright against my chest.
“This—” thrust “perfect—” thrust “pussy—” thrust “can take anything I give it.”
I’m barreling toward my orgasm, but I won’t get there without her. I slide my hand into the cups of her bra, bring it down to free her tits, and play with her hard nipples as Charlotte continues to bounce on my cock. Her rider’s instincts have taken over, her core engaged fully to stay upright and handle the firm way I move inside her. The distinct smack of my balls against her ass when I bottom out blends well with the grunts and sighs we’re slowly being reduced to.
“Please,” Charlotte’s breathy voice pleads as I trace the flat of her belly, my fingers creeping closer to where we’re joined. “Oh, please, Wilder, touch me.”
“I don’t think I will, baby.” I don’t do what she asks. There are no soft touches or light brushes to tease her into completion. Instead, I give her swollen clit a swift tap, the hit landing like a punch as Charlotte cries out, and her pussy clenches so tight around me I can barely move. “Yeah, I think that’s what you need.” I tap her again, groaning into her shoulder when I feel the tightness turn to flutters. “One more.” I strike as I speak, the final impact enough to tip her over the edge, dragging me with her.
Charlotte screams out her completion as I twist her shirt in a death grip and pull her closer, my teeth finding her shoulder. I bite down, moaning as I spill into the condom with a force I’ve never experienced. I thrust once, twice, three times more as Charlotte’s pussy continues to spasm around my cock, drawing out the sensation. I can’t resist trying to soothe any sting I left behind, so I rub her clit gently.
“Oh, God!” Charlotte shrieks, a second orgasm ripping through her at my touch. I release my grip, cradling her against me as best I can as she comes down from the high. My cock twitches half-heartedly in interest, but it is rapidly deflating, spent from the best fuck of my life.
Carefully, I extract myself from Charlotte, tying off the used condom and setting it to the side. I tuck myself away quickly so I can help strip off the rest of her clothes and get her in her pajamas. She’s relaxed and loose, the post-orgasm haze clouding her beautiful eyes. Without resistance, she lets me tuck her into the cot, now loudly protesting any further use, then reaches for me when I climb into the sliver of space at the edge. I coil myself around her, trying my best to cocoon her from the remains of the horrible day. Satisfaction and that nagging feeling of love fill my chest when Charlotte lets out a contented sigh and drifts off to sleep in my arms.