Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Kelsie
T he first rays of sunlight kiss my eyelids, coaxing me from slumber.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, letting my bare feet sink into the worn wooden floorboards.
Today's the day. No more hiding.
My fingers trail over the soft flannel of a well-worn shirt hanging in the closet. It smells faintly of hay and leather, reminding me of Carson. I push the thought away, focusing instead on the task at hand. As I button up the shirt and slip into a pair of sturdy jeans. The floorboards creak beneath my boots as I make my way downstairs. I didn’t help much yesterday, but today will be different.
Freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon draw me toward the kitchen. Carson looks up from the stove, a hint of surprise in his piercing blue eyes. “Well, good morning, early bird,” he says, a slow smile spreading across his rugged features.
“Morning.” I try to ignore the flutter in my chest at his smile. I turn my attention to Collin, who is practically bouncing in his seat at the table. “Someone's excited this morning.”
Collin's eyes light up. “Miss Kelsie! Guess what? Dad said I can help him with the new foal today!”
I can't help but grin at his enthusiasm as I slide into a chair.
“That sounds amazing, buddy. I bet you'll do a great job.”
Carson set a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, his fingers brushing mine for a moment. “Thanks.”
As we eat, Collin regales us with his plans for the day, his words tumbling out between bites of bacon.
“Slow down there, cowboy,” Carson chuckles, ruffling his son's hair. “We've got chores to do before that.”
I set down my fork, steeling my nerves. “Actually, I was hoping I could help. If you'll have me, that is.”
Carson's eyebrows shoot up. “You sure about that? Ranch work isn't exactly a walk in the park.
”
I roll up my sleeves, determination surging through me.
“I’m tougher than I look, cowboy. Besides, I'm not here to sit around and look pretty.”
A slow grin spreads across Carson's face, making my heart skip. “Alright then.
Let's see what you've got.
”
As we clear the table, I catch Carson watching me, a thoughtful expression on his face.
I wonder what he is thinking.
“Ready to get your hands dirty?” Carson asks, handing me a pair of work gloves.
I take them, our fingers brushing again.
This time, I didn't look away. “Bring it on.”
We enter the stables. Carson's strong hands work deftly, saddling up a chestnut mare.
“This is Whiskey,” he says, patting her flank.
“Think you can handle her?”
I swallow hard, but nod.
“I’ll give it my best shot.”
As I mount Whiskey, the leather creaks beneath me.
Carson's hand linger on my leg, steadying me. “You're still a natural.”
We ride out to check the fences. The vastness of the ranch stretches before us, dotted with grazing cattle. I inhale deeply, savoring the crisp morning air.
“So, what made you decide to help out today?” Carson asks, his voice curious.
I shrug, focusing on the reins in my hands. “I guess I wanted to feel useful. To... belong, maybe.”
Carson's gaze softens. “You do belong, Kelsie. More than you know.”
My heart flutters at his words, and I quickly change the subject. “So, about these fences…”
We spend the next hour mending broken posts and tightening wire. The work is satisfying. I relish the burn in my muscles, the sweat on my brow.
As we finish up, Collin comes bounding up, his face flushed.
“Dad! Can I show Kelsie the chickens?” he asks, bouncing on his toes.
Carson chuckles. “If she's up for it. What do you say, Kelsie?”
I grin at Collin's eager face. “Lead the way, cowboy.”
Collin's small hand slips into mine as he tugs me towards the chicken coop.
His enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself laughing as he mimicked each chicken's unique personality.
“This one's Henrietta,” he says, pointing to a plump hen. “She's grumpy in the mornings, just like Dad.”
I stifle a giggle, imagining Carson's reaction to that comparison. “Is that so?”
Collin nods. “But she's nice once you get to know her. Like Dad, too.”
Collin's trust in me is growing, and I realize how much that means to me. As we scatter feed for the chickens, I marvel at how quickly this place, Carson and Collin, are becoming a part of me.
I lean against the weathered barn wall afterward, the rough wood catching on my shirt. Carson stands beside me. My heart stutters as I catch him looking back at me.
“You did good work today.”
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “Thanks. I didn't realize how much I needed this – to feel useful again.”
Carson shifts, his arm brushing mine. “How are you holding up?” he asks. “Really?”
“I’m… better,” I admit. “Being here, being productive… It's helping. More than I expected.”
His hand moves, fingers grazing mine. It is the barest touch, but it sets my skin on fire. I look up, meeting his gaze. The intensity I see there makes my breath catch.
“I’m glad.”
We stand there, frozen in the moment. Part of me wants to lean in, to close the distance between us. But another part holds back.
“We should... we should go check on Collin.”
Carson nods, but neither of us move. His fingers are still touching mine, a point of connection that I can't bring myself to break.
“Kelsie,” he starts, then pauses.
I wait, my heart pounding. But whatever he is going to say remains unspoken as the sound of approaching footsteps breaks the spell between us.
“I’m starving.”
He ruffles Collin’s hair. “Yeah, I do suppose it’s time to feed you. Let’s head up to the house.”
After dinner, I sneak out to the barn. There is something about the horses that just help me think.
The creak of the barn door startles me, my heart leaping into my throat as Carson's tall frame fills the doorway. The fading light catches the planes of his face, and I can see the hunger in his eyes, the way his gaze rakes over my body. I swallow hard.
Carson steps closer, his boots scuffing on the barn floor. The sound echoes in my ears, fueling my desire. “I thought I might find you here.”
Our eyes meet, and I see the want in his gaze. I nod, unable to look away from him. "Just... needed some time to think," I say, but I'm not thinking anymore. My mind is consumed with filthy thoughts, seeing him in those tight jeans and flannel shirt that is begging to be ripped open and my tongue sliding across his chest.
Carson moves closer. His scent invades my senses, and I want to fucking devour him. “You don't have to explain.
I know,” he says, and I believe him.
I believe that he knows exactly what I need, what I crave.
I catch my breath as Carson's calloused fingers finally make contact with my cheek, his touch feather-light yet electrifying. “Kelsie,” he breathes, my name a reverent whisper on his lips. His eyes, dark with desire, search mine. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Do I want him to stop? No fucking way. “I don’t,” I say, surprising even myself with my honesty. “I don't want you to stop.”
Carson's other hand finds my waist, drawing me closer. His touch is searing, igniting a fire within me that I can't control. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice husky with restrained desire. “Because once I kiss you, I don't think I'll be able to stop.”
I don't answer with words. Instead, I close the minuscule gap between us, pressing my lips to his. For a heartbeat, Carson freezes, and then he is kissing me back with a passion that steals my breath away. His arms encircle me, strong and sure, as my fingers tangle in his hair.
The kiss deepens, years of pent-up longing and slow-burning desire igniting into a fucking blaze. Carson's hand cradles the back of my head, his touch both reverent and possessive.
I don't know where this is going, but I don't care. All I know is that I want more, I want it all.
We break apart, gasping for air, our foreheads pressed together. Carson's breath is hot against my skin, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His hands roam my back, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
“God, Kelsie,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “You have no idea how long I've wanted this.”
I pull back just enough to meet his gaze, drowning in the intensity of his blue eyes. “Show me,” I whisper.
Carson's response is immediate. He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to a nearby pile of hay.
He lays me down gently, his body covering mine like a blanket. I arch into him, craving more contact, more friction. Carson's lips find my neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my pulse point. I moan, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
“Carson,” I breathe, my voice thick with desire. “Please…”
He pulls back, his eyes searching mine. “Are you sure about this?”
The concern in his voice touches me, even as it frustrates me. I reach up, cupping his face in my hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I tell him, pouring every ounce of sincerity into my words.
A slow smile spreads across Carson's face, transforming his rugged features. He leans down, capturing my lips in a searing kiss that leaves me breathless. His hands roam my body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
As clothing is shed and skin meets skin, I lose myself in the sensation of Carson's touch. The world outside the barn fades away, leaving only us. Carson's callused fingers trace a path along my collarbone, my breath hitches. I can feel the cool evening air against my bare skin, pebbling my nipples into tight little peaks. But Carson's body is a furnace, radiating heat that sears my skin and makes me ache for his touch.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice rough with desire.
His lips are firm, his tongue exploring mine with slow, deliberate strokes that make my knees buckle.
His hands are everywhere, kneading my ass, squeezing my breasts, tugging at my nipples until I gasp with pleasure. And all the while, he whispers filthy, dirty things in my ear, things that make me blush and squirm with desire.
His fingers teasing my swollen clit as I moan and rock my hips against his hand. “You're so fucking wet for me. I can feel it dripping down your thighs.”
His words make me wetter, if that's even possible. Carson's thumb finds my clit again, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as I grind against his hand, seeking release. And when he crooks his fingers inside me, hitting that sweet spot deep inside me, I lose all control.
My orgasm hits me like a freight train, leaving me weak and shuddering in his arms. But Carson's not done with me yet. He lays me all the way back on the pile of hay, spreading my legs wide as he sinks into me.
My body stretching to accommodate his impressive size. He stills for a moment, allowing me to adjust, his eyes locked on mine. The tenderness in his gaze makes my heart swell.
“You okay?” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from my face.
Carson begins to move, slowly at first, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body. My hands roam his broad back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin.
Carson's pace quickens, his hips snapping against mine with increasing urgency. I meet him thrust for thrust, my body arching off the hay to press against his. The friction is exquisite, building a familiar tension low in my belly.
“Fuck, Kelsie,” Carson groans, his voice strained. “You feel so good, baby. So tight, so wet for me.”
His words send a shiver down my spine. I drag my nails down his back, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.
“More,” I gasp. “Please, Carson. I need more.”
He obliges, hitching one of my legs higher on his hip and driving into me deeper. The change in angle has me seeing stars, each thrust hitting that perfect spot inside me. I'm close, so close, teetering on the edge of bliss.
Carson's hand snakes between our bodies, his thumb finding my clit. He rubs it in tight circles, perfectly in sync with his thrusts. It's too much, and yet not enough.
“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urges, his blue eyes dark with desire.
“Let go. I've got you.”
His words are my undoing. My orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my body arching off the hay as pleasure courses through me. I cry out Carson's name, my inner walls clenching around him.
Carson follows me over the edge moments later, his hips stuttering as he finds his release. He collapses on top of me, his weight a comforting presence as we both struggle to catch our breath.
As the afterglow settles over us, reality begins to seep back in. What have we done? What does this mean for us? But as Carson raises his head to look at me, his eyes full of warmth and something that looks suspiciously like love, I push those thoughts aside.