Chapter 26 Under Arrest #2
She nods, her stomach caving when I spread her moisture over her clit. She’s wet enough now that my fingers glide easily through her slickness.
I play with her clit. Her head falls back onto my shoulder.
“Would you—can you—is there a way we could watch?” she pants. “Once you’re inside me, I mean.”
Still smirking, I give her clit a soft pinch before moving my hands to her tits again. “Yeah, baby, I can figure out a way to fuck you so you can watch in the mirror. Can you put your hands on the wall? Bend over a little?”
She nods. Her hair falls over her shoulders and into her face as she does as I tell her. Rotating the mirror so it reflects our sides, I move to stand behind her. Then I put my hands between her shoulder blades and press down so that she’s bent at the waist.
“Now turn your head.” I gather her hair in my hand. “Can you see us?”
She meets my eyes in the mirror again. “Oh, this is good, Ry. Really fucking good.”
Reaching back, she grabs my dick and pumps her hand.
At the same time, I do that thing we both like and use my hand to pull aside her ass cheek and open her to me.
I sink my fingers inside her pussy again. She feels tighter at this angle. More narrow.
“You’re gonna feel some pressure, yeah?” I unwrap her hand from my dick and take myself in my hand.
Thrusting my fingers one last time, I tap my dick against her ass.
“You’re obscene,” she moans.
“Such a brat. You want me to put this dick in your mouth instead?”
She grins. “I want you inside me. Now.”
I pull out my fingers. Gather her hair in my hand again. “You’d best be ready, then.”
Pressing my head to her entrance, I push inside her in a quick, hard thrust. No gentleness. No warning.
I just go, burying myself to the hilt. I also give her hair a pull.
She makes a strangled sound. “Ry.”
“Watch me fuck you.” Holding onto her hip with my free hand, I begin to hammer into her from behind. “That’s what you wanted, right? Right?”
She turns her head a little so she can watch us in the mirror. Her mouth forms a neat little o when I slip my hand between her legs to play with her clit again.
I love seeing the way her ass cheeks rock in time to my movements. Her tits bounce. Her back arches when I pull on her hair, and she yells.
“More. Hot. This is—the hottest thing, Ry.”
I start to sweat. Need rockets up my dick with every stroke, a tightening that has me gritting my teeth.
“Come,” I grunt. “You gotta come before me, baby.”
And she does, locking eyes with me in the mirror, her pussy clamping down on me. Then I’m lost too.
I’m coming too, howling like the animal I am.
It takes several heartbeats to come back to Earth. Then, before I can think better of it, I put my hands on her hips and pivot us a little so that her ass is fully facing the mirror.
“Watch,” I say, starting to pull out of her. “You’re gonna like this.”
I step aside. Billie has to strain a little to see, but she looks over her shoulder, and her eyes go wide when she catches a glimpse of my cum leaking out of her pussy.
“Obscene,” she repeats. “Can we do that again?”
Monday.
It starts off pretty damn great. All my days do right now because I’m waking up next to Billie. Both of us naked.
I’m only able to tear myself away from her at the very last minute. That means I’m late for work, a fact which Wyatt, who became foreman of Lucky River Ranch after Cash took over as chairman and principal, does not appreciate.
“Dude, I get you’re enjoying your little love nest situation.
” He grunts as he tosses a saddle onto a nearby horse.
“But we gotta prep this herd for winter, and I need every spare pair of hands. You bein’ late every damn day throws off our whole operation.
I’ll whoop some ass if I need to whether you’re my brother or not. ”
I do feel guilty. Despite the hot summer and warm autumn we’ve had here in Texas, they’re calling for record cold this winter.
More than that, the cold is supposed to last well through March and April.
Which means it’s more important than ever that we have our ducks in a row on the ranch, because when those low temps hit, being prepared is the only way we’ll keep our fifteen thousand head of cattle alive.
If only my focus hadn’t been entirely somewhere else lately. “Sorry. Once my place is ready—”
“Could be months. Be here by four tomorrow, or don’t come at all.”
“Got it.”
We turn out the horses and muck stalls until the sun rises. Then I head out to the corral, where branding the calves we missed in the spring is already underway. Duke is at the gate, glancing over his shoulder as I approach.
Now that he splits his time between cowboying and being partner in Bellamy Brooks’s growing boot empire, he’s with Wheeler and Mollie more often than not in the studio. But winter is almost here, he’s put his literal and proverbial cowboy hat back on and working on the ranch twenty-four seven.
He smiles. “You finally came up for air, huh?”
“Don’t be gross.” But I’m smiling too as I slap his back. “How’s it going?”
Shrugging, he squints against the bright morning light. “Wyatt’s pissed.”
“I know. I feel like a jerk, but—”
“You’re in love. I get it.”
I blink. Blink again. “How did you—”
“Know? Same reason I can finish your sentences. I’m your twin, remember? We have the same brain.”
Laughing, I shake my head, even as my heart pops around inside my chest. “We have the same genes, idiot. And yeah.” I can’t help but smile. “I said it first this weekend, and she said it right back. Pretty cool.”
“Aw, man, I’m thrilled for you. We’ve all been waitin’ for it to happen. Now that you’re opening up and shit, figured you’d be spilling your guts sooner rather than later.” He looks me in the eye. “I’m proud of you, Ry.”
I nod. “I’m proud of me too.”
“So when are you gonna ask her to marry you?”
“That’s a bold assumption,” I reply, cutting him a look. “Also, why does every story gotta end with a wedding? There’s a million different ways to ride off into the sunset with someone.”
“I know. I’m Exhibit A of the alternative happy ending. No ring, no wedding, but we are having two babies, so.” He gives me a wide, white smile. “Still counts as a win.”
“Any updates on that front? How’s Wheeler feeling?”
Sawyer has arrived, and he’s calling us over to help rope a calf.
Duke opens the gate and holds it for me. “She’s uncomfortable, and sleep is hard to come by. But we’re getting really excited. Starting to feel real, you know?”
I give his shoulder a squeeze. “You’re gonna be a great daddy.”
“Appreciate you saying that. You’re gonna be toast if you don’t help out around here while I’m gone.”
“Just because I’m being nice doesn’t give you permission to be a dick.”
His smile is back. “Love ya, brother. You make any headway with Colt?”
“Nope. Not for lack of trying, though. We’re both reaching out all the time—me and Billie. He always was a stubborn motherfucker, but this…” I let out a low whistle. “It’s a whole new level.”
“He’ll come around.”
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Duke grabs my arm. “He will come around, Ry. He isn’t gonna stay mad at y’all forever. He can’t. You mean too much to him. I can’t imagine cutting someone out of my life because they fell in love with my sister. That’s some bullshit right there.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Is it, though?” Sighing, he looks away. “If he don’t come around soon, I’ll be having some words with him.”
“Please don’t. I know you’re just trying to help—”
“The longer he’s pissed, the more he’s gonna regret it down the road.
Think about everything he’s missin’ out on—his best friend and his sister just found their soulmates in each other.
Is there anything better than that? Makes me wonder if he’s jealous of y’all.
” Duke closes the gate behind us. “Now quit messin’ and let’s get this done. ”
Prepping for winter is…not my favorite. It’s nice having pretty much everyone we know on hand to help, but that means the days are total chaos.
The new ranch hands need a lot of guidance.
Despite the fact that we’re well into autumn, the sun is hot, and I’m soaked through with sweat by the time the lunch bell rings.
Everyone is exhausted, and tempers fray. John B and Cash get into it when John B takes a hoof to the face while wrangling a calf into submission.
I get kicked square in the stomach by an especially ornery Friesian horse. The surprise of it is the worst part, but it still knocks the wind out of me.
I get shit on. Lose my grip on a rope, and it ends up giving me a good burn on my wrist. Sweat rolls down my face and drips into my eyes.
I can tell by the way the skin on my nape and forearms smarts that I’m sunburnt even though I’m wearing 70 SPF.
Never mind the fact that Wyatt keeps an eye on me all day, like he knows I’m gonna bolt the second I’m able to sneak away.
Makes keeping an eye on my phone pretty damn difficult. Billie is supposed to present her idea for the animal therapy program to her parents today, and I’m dying to know how it went.
I love my job. Always have. But some days, the physical misery of this work makes you question all your life decisions. Your sanity too.
By the time I climb into my car at quarter to four that afternoon, my back is shot, and I’m caked in mud, sweat, and God knows what else. I stink to high heaven, so I roll down the windows on the drive over to Billie’s place.
No word from her yet. I can’t tell if that’s a good sign or a bad one.
She’s not home when I get there, so I grab a shower. Shiver at the sheer pleasure of putting on clean, comfy clothes. Mrs. Wallace stopped making supper every night once her brood moved out, so the family doesn’t eat together seven days a week the way we do.
Honestly, it’s kind of a relief. I very much look forward to staying in tonight with Billie.
I’ll make something easy and quick for dinner—breakfast tacos with that leftover chorizo we made for brunch yesterday?
—and we can eat on the couch while zooming through some episodes of our current obsession, The Great British Bake Off.
Paul Hollywood’s gruffness reminds me so much of Cash that it kinda freaks me out.
My hamstrings scream as I bend down to pull a pan out of a drawer in the kitchen. I turn on some Nirvana and make dinner.
Only when I glance at my phone do I realize how late it is. After six, which for us might as well be ten p.m.
Billie is home without fail by four thirty every day.
My stomach drops. Something’s wrong.
No idea how I know this, but I just do.
I try calling her. Texting her too.
No response.
I’m probably overreacting—definitely overreacting—but better to be safe than sorry. Covering dinner with tinfoil, I grab my keys and head out to my car.
I drive way too fast to the ranch’s offices. Wondering all the while what the hell is going down to keep Billie there so long. She did mention waiting until the end of the day to make her proposal. Apparently her mom’s mood improves the closer it gets to dinnertime.
I really, really hope everything’s okay.
I pull up to the limestone building, my headlights slicing across the steel windows.
My heart trips to a stop when I see Billie in the window.
She’s crying, holding her face in her hands.
Shit.