Reckless Abandon (Whispering Oaks Ranch #3)

Prologue

? Tennessee Whiskey - Chris Stapleton

Angelina

“What’s wrong, babe?” Jess hides her smile behind a margarita the size of Texas. “You’ve barely touched your semi-annual existential crisis.”

I glare at my best friend.

“That’s rich coming from the woman who’s happily married with a three-month-old baby at home.” I swipe my finger through the delicate frosting swirl on my red velvet cupcake and lick it off. “What’s it like to live my dream?”

“Honestly? My nipples hurt constantly, I haven’t slept more than four hours at a time in months, and I’d kill to eat spicy food again, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“You left out the part where your husband fucks like a stallion and looks like every woman’s fantasy.”

She gets a far-off look on her face and smiles lazily. “Yeah, there’s that, too.”

I sigh. “I really need to get laid.”

She sets her glass down on the coffee table and repositions herself to face me. “Ok. Spill. What’s going on with you?”

I’m thirty-one years old and single, and the only thing I have to show for my life is this modest apartment in Denver, a veterinary license, and a caffeine addiction some might call concerning.

My dating history is one manchild after another, all operating under the guise of wanting a future, until I realize what they want is a mother, not a partner.

But I just shrug. “Does Wilder have any hot friends?”

“I’ll do you one better. He has a hot brother. Two of them, in fact, but Jaxon’s a bit young for you.”

I rip the bottom off the cupcake and sandwich it to the top, devouring the thing like I haven’t eaten in weeks. I’d kill to have my pussy eaten with this much enthusiasm. “Single?”

“Yep.” She pops the P for emphasis.

I bring my straw to my lips to wash down the sweetness, narrowing my eyes at her. “So, what’s wrong with him?”

“Ok, hear me out. He doesn’t have any glaring red flags, but he’s really committed to his job.”

“Ok…” I draw out that single word. “What does he do?”

“He’s a horse trainer and riding instructor, but he used to be a bronc rider back in his heyday.”

I don’t even try to hold back my snort. “Cowboy is the red flag, babe.”

She hits me with a backhand. “He’s the exception, not the rule.”

I’ve dealt with my fair share of cowboys in my line of work.

I’ve been called out to countless farms and ranches to tend to injured horses and livestock, and every cowboy I’ve met has looked down on me like I didn’t earn my place in this career.

Every single one except for Wilder, but he’s happily married to my best friend.

I purse my lips and shake my head. “No thanks.”

“Just meet him.”

“I’ll pass.”

Her expression turns from hopeful to guilty in a blink.

“Jess… what did you do?”

She checks her phone and downs the rest of her drink. “Come on. That’s enough pre-gaming. Our ride is here.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s your birthday, and we have plans to celebrate. I’m almost offended that you’d think I’d have an ulterior motive.”

She looks guilty as hell as she heads toward the door and slips on her black heels. I reluctantly follow her lead. It’s not often we get to dress up anymore. She’s either working or being a mom, and my job has been keeping me busier than ever.

I dusted off my favorite little black dress with a triangle cutout at my midriff and a thigh-high slit. If this doesn’t get me laid, I don’t know what will.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Wilderiscomingandhisbrotheriswithhim.” The words come out too jumbled for me to make sense of them.

“Say that again. Slower this time.”

She clears her throat, averting her gaze. “Wilder is coming, and his brother is with him.”

“Jessica Louise Hayes!”

“Don’t you dare use my full government name, Angelina Thalia Rossi.”

A knock sounds at my apartment door.

“That’s the guys,” Jess says. “Please be nice.”

“When am I ever not nice?”

She crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a brow at me.

“Fine. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

As soon as the door swings open, Wilder barrels inside and wraps Jess in his arms. “I missed you.”

She beams at him. “I’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Two hours too long.”

She giggles as he kisses down her neck.

“How’s Emmy Lou?” she asks.

“She’s having the time of her life with your parents, which means we have an entire evening to ourselves for the first time in months.”

My thundering pulse drowns out the rest of their conversation as I stare at the man standing in my doorway.

I’m tall for a woman at five foot eleven, and he still towers over me by at least a good seven or eight inches.

He’s broad-chested and soft around the middle, with light brown wavy hair hanging down past his shoulders and a thick, well-groomed beard.

His eyes are a rich brown with flecks of caramel, and he’s staring back at me with unmasked hunger, dark and menacing in a way that sends tingles up my spine, causing me to press my legs together.

Being on the receiving end of his smile feels a lot like being cocooned in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. “Hey. I’m Griffin.” His voice is a deep rasp curling low in my belly.

My gaze flicks to the upturned palm that’s extended toward me. I slide my hand into his, and he brings it to his perfectly soft lips.

The skin prickles where he kissed me, and I momentarily forget how to speak.

Snap out of it, Ange. You’re a bad bitch. Act like it.

“I’m Angelina.”

If cowboy is the red flag, I’m prepared to paint it green, just for tonight.

My back hits the door with startling force, and suddenly he’s right there, lifting my dress off over my head. “Fuck, Angel. Been dreaming of stripping you naked since the second I laid eyes on you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His fingers slip beneath the straps of my bra, and his lips follow soon after, marking a path across my overheated flesh.

I grip the hem of his black T-shirt and strip it off.

He’s all hard muscle beneath a layer of soft tissue, with dark hair peppering his chest and down his belly, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans.

I want to follow that trail and see where it ends, but I’m quickly distracted by his thigh pressing hard between my legs.

“Griffin.” His name comes out as a half-moan, half-whimper.

“Are you wet for me?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Grind that slick little pussy all over my leg.”

Who am I to deny this man anything when he’s offering to worship at my altar?

My bra drops to the floor, and he feasts on my nipple.

I roll my hips, savoring the delicious friction against my sensitive core. And then, I do it harder, letting the sensation roll through me. His mouth moves to my right nipple while his fingers toy with the other.

Am I about to orgasm without clitoral stimulation? That’s never happened to me before, but I’m so close. I chase my release, climbing higher and higher. My breathing becomes shallow, and I’m a sweaty, panting mess, but Griffin doesn’t seem to mind as he nips and sucks at every inch of my bare skin.

His fingers dig into my hips, rocking me harder against him. “That’s it, baby girl. Make yourself come all over me.”

My fingers tangle in his hair, and he lets out a low groan.

The sound is like a match to gasoline, and an electric current ripples through me in wave after wave of intense pleasure.

The outline of his cock presses against my hip as he pushes me harder against the door, thrusting into me.

His palm hits the door twice, and he stills.

With my eyes closed, I rest my forehead on his shoulder, struggling to catch my breath.

He pulls back enough to look into my eyes, running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. That’s not the first impression I wanted to make.”

My gaze flicks down to the wet spot on his jeans as I bite down on my bottom lip. “Mmm. I kind of like making you lose control.”

My palms press into his soft belly, shoving him back enough for me to sink to my knees. His hand braces against the door, and he watches me intently as I unbuckle his belt and release his still semi-hard cock. It’s intimidating as fuck—long and thick, with pronounced veins running from root to tip.

He smirks. “It’ll fit.”

I take him into my mouth and moan at the salty taste of his release on my tongue. There’s something so sexy about him coming in his pants before I’ve even touched him.

I pull back, gathering all of the saliva in my mouth, then I spit on the tip and spread it with my fist. Swirling my tongue around the engorged head, I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

“Fucking hell,” he rasps. “You’re gonna kill me.” He winds my hair around his fist and tugs, sending a thrill coursing through me.

I hum my approval.

“You like it rough?”

I pull off his cock and gasp for breath. “Yes.”

His low groan ripples across my skin. “Do you have a safe word?”

“T-traffic lights. Green means all good, yellow means pause, red means stop.”

“If you can’t talk, tap my thigh three times. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Gonna feed you every goddamn inch, and you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?”

“Please.”

“That’s right. And when I’m done fucking your face, I’m gonna stuff that pretty cunt of yours until you’re full of me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Open that pretty mouth and stick out your tongue for me.”

The gruff command gives me goose bumps, and I instantly obey. His eyes darken, and he slides his thumb into my mouth. I close my lips around the digit and suck hard.

He pulls out slowly, replacing his thumb with his cock. His thrusts are shallow at first, like he’s testing my resolve. When he picks up the pace and shoves deeper down my throat, I take everything he gives, eager to please him. I feel more untamed than ever with this man.

His palm slides to the back of my head, and he thrusts forward over and over. My eyes water as he hits the back of my throat, and soon, tears stream down my cheeks unbidden.