6. Lindsay
Chapter Six
LINDSAY
The conference room at Clayton Ranch has been my second home for the past three years.
Normally, I live for these meetings—color-coded notes ready, marketing proposals polished, and social media analytics compiled. Being the marketing coordinator here isn't just a job for me, it's everything I've worked for.
But today, all I can focus on is Jace.
He's sitting directly across from me, one boot propped casually on his knee, looking every inch the cowboy businessman in his pearl-snap Western shirt and dark jeans. His chair is also angled just slightly toward mine, even though he's pretending to be absorbed in the budget report.
It's amazing how quickly everything can change.
We didn't get back to the ranch until late last night—Mr. Henderson had insisted on telling us the history behind every single vintage sign before we loaded them up.
By the time we pulled into the ranch, the moon was high and bright over the pastures. Jace walked me to my apartment door, and even though every part of me wanted to pull him inside, we both knew we needed to at least try to maintain some professionalism. One lingering kiss turned into several before we finally managed to say goodnight.
Now it's Monday morning, our first time seeing each other at work since everything changed, and I'm failing miserably at acting normal.
We're in the last meeting of the year, and all I can think about is how his hands felt on my skin, how his voice got rough when he whispered my name.
"Lindsay?" Wyatt's voice draws me back. "Thoughts on the spring festival timeline?"
Jace shifts in his chair, and I make the mistake of looking directly at him.
He's got that subtle half-smile playing at his lips, the one that says he knows exactly what I'm thinking about. The same smile he gave me this morning when I ran into him at the coffee maker and had to pretend my skin wasn't burning where his fingers brushed mine as he handed me my mug.
"Actually," I manage, forcing my attention back to Wyatt, "I've been working on some new ideas for family engagement. If you look at page three of my report?—"
I stand to point at the projection screen, very aware of how Jace's jaw tightens as I walk past him. "We could set up activity stations throughout the property."
"Like the reading corner we did last fall?" Wyatt asks, but I barely hear him because Jace is doing that thing where he runs his hand through his hair when he's thinking.
It shouldn't be this distracting. I've seen him do it a thousand times before.
But now I know how that hair feels between my fingers.
"Exactly," I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds. "We had great feedback from that event. I'm thinking we could expand the concept, maybe partner with local schools..."
I continue my presentation, hyper-aware of Jace's eyes following my every movement.
He keeps making little noises of agreement at all the right moments, playing the part of the attentive ranch manager perfectly. But I recognize the heat in his gaze now, the way his fingers tap restlessly against the table when I lean forward to point out something in the budget.
Finally, Wyatt closes his laptop. “Alright. I think that covers everything for the year. Good work, everyone. See you all at the party tomorrow.”
The room starts to clear out. I'm gathering my papers when I feel it—that electric awareness that means Jace is close.
Sure enough, when I look up, Jace is casually leaning against the conference table next to me, looking for all the world like he's just making friendly conversation.
"Got a minute?" His voice is perfectly professional, but his eyes are anything but.
"Sure." I snap my laptop bag shut and spin around to face him. "What's up?"
He waits until the last person leaves, closing the door behind them. Then suddenly I'm pressed against the conference table, his mouth hot on mine. I make a surprised sound that turns into a moan as he deepens the kiss, one hand tangling in my hair while the other grips my hip.
"Do you have any idea," he mutters against my lips, "how hard it is to sit through an entire meeting watching you and not being able to touch you?"
I laugh breathlessly, pushing at his chest. "We're at work, Jace."
"Meeting's over." He nips at my bottom lip, then soothes it with his tongue. "Stay with me tonight."
"What?"
"At the main house." His hands slide up my sides. "I hate watching you walk up to that apartment alone. Stay with me instead."
“There you go with that bossy tone again,” I laugh, trying to ignore how my heart flutters at the thought of waking up next to him again.
He growls against my neck. “You love it."
The truth is, he's right—I do love it. Love this new confidence between us, the way he's suddenly so sure about what he wants.
But I can't resist teasing him a little.
"I don't know..." I pretend to consider, even as his lips trail down my neck. "My apartment has better water pressure."
He pulls back just enough to look at me, one eyebrow raised. "Really? That's what you're going with?"
"And my coffee maker?—"
His mouth captures mine again, effectively ending that line of argument. When he finally lets me breathe, I've forgotten what I was protesting about.
"Stay with me," he says again, softer this time. His forehead rests against mine, and I can feel his heart racing where my hands are pressed against his chest. "I'll even let you bring your fancy coffee maker."
"How generous of you." But I'm already melting, already knowing I'm going to say yes. It's impossible to deny him anything when he's looking at me like this, like I'm everything he's ever wanted.
A noise in the hallway makes us jump apart. Jace runs a hand through his hair, looking delightfully rumpled, while I try to straighten my blouse.
"Tonight?" he asks. His voice is still rough around the edges.
I bite my lip, pretending to check my calendar on my phone. "I suppose I could clear my schedule..."
Quick as a rattlesnake, he pulls me back against him. "You're playing with fire, baby.”
"Good thing I've got a cowboy to keep me safe," I whisper against his lips.
His answering growl sends shivers down my spine. "Seven o'clock. Don't be late." He steals one more kiss before heading for the door, and I definitely don't watch the way his jeans fit as he walks away.
Okay, maybe I watch a little.
Seven o'clock finds me slipping through the side door of the main house, the one that leads directly to the back staircase.
My heart is pounding, but not just from sneaking around—there's something thrilling about this, about knowing Jace is waiting for me upstairs.
The Clayton house is a sprawling ranch-style house with a separate second-story addition. It was built by Jace's great-grandfather and expanded over generations. Now, all four Clayton brothers live here, along with their significant others.
Usually, the house is full of life—boots thumping on hardwood floors, country music drifting from the kitchen, screen doors banging as the brothers come and go.
But tonight, the house is quiet.
Everyone is off doing their own things, which means it's just me and Jace, and the thought makes my pulse quicken.
I know these stairs by heart—which steps creak and which don't—from countless late nights working on ranch projects in Jace's office. But this time feels different. This time, I'm heading to his bedroom instead.
His room is at the end of the east wing, far from the others. I've only been in here a handful of times over the years, usually to grab something for him when he was sick or injured. Now I pause outside his door, suddenly nervous. Before I can overthink it, I turn the handle and slip inside.
The room is exactly like Jace—masculine but comfortable, with dark wood furniture and cream-colored walls. A king-sized bed dominates one wall, and a stone fireplace graces another. Through the French doors that lead to his private balcony, I can see the last rays of sunset painting the mountains gold.
"You came."
I turn to find Jace leaning against his bathroom doorframe, fresh from the shower. His hair is damp, his feet are bare, and he's wearing nothing but worn jeans and a soft gray t-shirt. The sight of him like this, relaxed and casual in his private space, makes my mouth go dry.
"Did you think I wouldn't?" I ask, aiming for playful but my voice comes out breathier than intended.
He crosses the room in three long strides, and suddenly I'm in his arms, my back against the door.
His kiss is different from the ones we shared in the conference room—deeper, hungrier, like he's been holding back all day and can't anymore. One hand tangles in my hair while the other spans my lower back, pulling me flush against him.
I grip his shoulders, feeling the solid muscle beneath soft cotton. His mouth trails down my neck, and I gasp when he finds that sensitive spot below my ear.
"Been thinking about this all day," he murmurs against my skin. "About you. Couldn't focus on a damn thing after that meeting."
"That makes two of us," I manage, sliding my hands into his damp hair. He makes a low sound in his throat that I feel more than hear.
“I could get used to this,” he whispers between kisses. “Having you here every night.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. How many times have I imagined this? Being here with him, belonging here? His thumb traces my cheekbone as he pulls back just enough to look at me, and the intensity in his eyes takes my breath away.
"Jace—" I start, but he kisses me again, and whatever I was going to say dissolves into the feeling of his mouth on mine, his hands holding me like I'm something precious, something he never wants to let go.
The kiss turns molten, Jace's tongue delving deep to tangle with mine. His large hands roam my body hungrily, sliding under my blouse to span my bare back. I arch into him, craving more, and he groans against my mouth.
He strips my blouse off and tosses it aside. My bra quickly follows, leaving me bare from the waist up. Jace's heated gaze rakes over me possessively.
"So gorgeous," he murmurs, cupping my breasts. His calloused thumbs brush over my nipples and pleasure jolts through me. "Love these perfect tits."
I moan as he dips his head, taking one aching peak into his hot mouth. He sucks hard, teeth grazing, before laving the sting with his tongue. My head falls back against the door as he switches to the other breast, giving it the same toe-curling attention.
“Fuck that feels good,” I whimper, my hips rocking against the thick ridge of his erection.
I'm so empty it aches.
Jace releases my nipple and kisses a path down my stomach. Then he sinks to his knees.
"Look at you," he growls as he gazes up at me. "So fucking sexy.” He grabs the waistband of my jeans and pulls. With a few efficient tugs, my jeans and panties join my blouse on the floor. His hands skim up my thighs, spreading them wider. "I could spend hours worshipping this pretty pussy."
I whimper as he leans in, his breath hot against my aching core. "Please, Jace..."
Jace nuzzles my inner thigh. “Please, what?”
"Your mouth," I gasp. "I need your mouth on me."
His answering groan vibrates against my skin. "With pleasure."
And then his mouth is on me and I'm lost. His lips and tongue work me expertly, licking and sucking, stoking the fire inside me higher and higher. He grips my hips, holding me steady as I grind against his face, chasing my pleasure.
"That's it, baby," he encourages between long licks. "Ride my face. Get yourself off with my tongue.”
Obscene wet sounds fill the room as he devours me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer. The coil inside me winds tighter and tighter until it finally snaps.
"Jace!" I cry out, my back bowing off the door as I come hard against his mouth. He groans, lapping at me greedily, prolonging my pleasure until I'm boneless and trembling.
He kisses his way back up my body until he can claim my mouth in a searing kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue and it makes me burn for him all over again.
“I love the faces you make when you come,” he says roughly, his forehead resting against mine. "You're so beautiful when you let go, baby.”
My heart flips at the unguarded tenderness in his eyes.
He walks us back towards the bed, his mouth never leaving mine. When his legs hit the mattress, he sits, pulling me astride his lap. I can feel the hard length of him pressed against my bottom and I rock against him, making us both groan.
"Fuck, you feel good," he rasps, his big hands cupping my ass. "Love having you on top of me like this."
I reach between us, palming his erection through his jeans. He hisses, hips bucking up into my touch.
"These need to come off," I murmur, working at his fly.
He helps me push his jeans and briefs down, freeing his impressive length. I take a moment to admire him, my hand wrapping around his thick shaft. He's so hard, the skin like velvet over steel, and I can't resist stroking him root to tip.
"Lindsay," he groans, his head falling back. "Baby, you gotta stop or this'll be over before it starts."
I smirk, loving the effect I have on him. "Well, we can't have that, can we?"
I lift up on my knees, positioning him at my entrance. We both groan as I sink down slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he's buried to the hilt inside me.
"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this?" Jace rasps, his large hands gripping my hips as I adjust to the feel of him stretching me. "How many nights I've laid in this bed imagining you riding me just like this?"
"Tell me," I whisper, rising up until just the tip of him is inside me before sinking back down.
His groan is guttural, his fingers digging into my skin. "Imagined you naked and needy, sinking down on my cock over and over. Dreamed about these perfect tits bouncing in my face while you use me for your pleasure."
His filthy words make me clench around him and we both moan. I brace my hands on his chest and find a rhythm, rolling my hips to take him as deep as possible on every downstroke.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, his voice strained. “Just like that. Make us both come."
I brace my hands on his chest, using the leverage to ride him harder, faster.
Jace slides one hand around to where we're joined, his thumb finding my clit. I cry out at the added stimulation, my movements becoming erratic as I chase my release.
"Come on, Lindsay," he coaxes, rubbing tight circles. "Come all over my cock. I want to feel you."
His words are my undoing.
I shatter with a hoarse cry of his name, my inner muscles clamping down on him like a vice. Jace curses, his hips snapping up once, twice more before he buries himself to the hilt with a guttural groan, finding his own release deep inside me.
I collapse against his chest, both of us panting harshly. Jace wraps his arms around me, holding me close as we come down from the high.
Eventually, he rolls us gently so we're lying side by side. I wince a little as he slips out of me, already feeling deliciously sore in the best way.
Jace props himself up on one elbow, his other hand tracing idle patterns on my stomach.
And that’s when it hits me that this is the third time we’ve had sex without using any birth control.
"You know we should really start being more careful," I giggle. "Or else we're going to have a little Clayton running around sooner rather than later."
Jace's hand stills on my stomach. When I glance up at him, his eyes have gone heated and intense again, boring into mine.
"Would that be so bad?" he asks. "You, pregnant with my baby?"
My breath catches at the possessive edge to his words, at the image they conjure. “Of course, that wouldn’t be bad.” I bite my lip. “I’m just saying we should be careful.”
Jace rolls on top of me, settling between my thighs. I can feel him getting hard again already. "Being careful is overrated."
He punctuates his words by reaching between us, scooping up some of the wetness leaking out of me and shoving it back inside with two thick fingers. I gasp at the sensation, my hips bucking up to meet his touch.
“But we…,” I protest, even as arousal starts to curl through me again. "We just started this...whatever this is. And a baby?—"
“Would be perfect.” Jace cuts me off. He withdraws his fingers only to notch the broad head of his cock at my entrance. "You’re mine, Lindsay. And now that I have you, I'm not wasting any more time."
He pushes inside me with one smooth thrust and I cry out, my hands flying up to grip his biceps.
He starts moving immediately, setting a deep, purposeful rhythm.
“Doesn’t this feel right, honey? Your best friend buried deep inside you?” Jace groans as I start meeting his thrusts, tilting my hips to take him even deeper. "You're made for me. Made to take my cock, to carry my child. I can’t wait to put my baby inside you, so everyone knows you belong to me."
I'm too far gone to argue, lost in the steady drag of him inside me and the filthy promises falling from his lips. Jace is relentless, his thrusts never slowing, like he's a man possessed.
"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his hand finding my breast and squeezing. "Say it, Lindsay."
When his hand slides between us to rub my clit, I feel my third orgasm of the night start to barrel toward me. My body starts to clench around him rhythmically.
"I'm yours," I gasp out. "Only yours, always."
A second later, I shatter with a scream.