Take the reins

7 | Flashin back 🔥🔥🔥

CLEMENTINE

*SEVEN YEARS EARLIER*

The air is heavy tonight, warm and loaded with electricity, like a storm is slowly rolling in. It might just be me, though—I’ve been feeling restless for weeks.

I have no one to talk to—not really. The two people I want to share it all with—cry with, yell with, get comforted by—are the very ones who landed me in this mess.

I haven’t talked to Tessa at all since our fight; since I came back from the city and found her with Sawyer.

I didn’t catch them in the act, but I didn’t need to.

I always suspected Sawyer had a thing for Tessa, but I never thought he’d act on it.

I figured it was just a little crush, something harmless—like my crush on Colton.

Nice to admire from afar, but completely off-limits.

And I’m fine with that. Because he’s Tessa’s older brother, and I’m with Sawyer. Or was, I guess.

Raymond McGraw’s funeral was the worst. Sitting there a few rows back, perched on the edge of my seat, watching my best friend fall apart and not letting me hold her.

I’m angry—seething about the betrayal—but no one should have to brave the loss of their parent alone.

Well, she wasn’t alone, I suppose. Sawyer was right there, holding her.

All because I wasn’t there when he died. Because I was ‘busy runnin’ off to my new life’, as Tessa spit at me. ‘Too good for this swamp’.

I swallow, kicking a rock. Fuck this swamp indeed.

I round the bend near the west pasture and stop dead in my tracks.

There’s a truck parked in the grass, tailgate down, blanket spread in its bed. A broad figure leans back against the side rail, one hand tucked behind his head, the other resting on his chest.

Colton McGraw.

The sheer sight of him knocks the breath out of me. There’s a quiet aura of sorrow surrounding him, and it kills me seeing him like this.

My throat tightens. I should turn around. Pretend I never saw him. But the gravel shifts under my boot and he sits up, head turning.

“Tiny?” His voice is rough, low. “What’re you doin’ out here alone at this hour?”

I bristle instantly. “Walking. Not that it’s any of your business.”

His brows lift, visible even from this distance. “A pretty girl wanderin’ country roads after dark? Damn right it’s my business.”

Heat flashes in my chest, a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “I can handle myself.”

“Sure.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Tell that to the coyotes.”

I roll my eyes, but something about the way he says it—steady, protective—softens the sting.

He tilts his chin toward the sky.

“You see that?” He points, and despite myself, I follow his finger. “Orion. Easy to spot this time of year. Belt’s right there.”

The stars glitter sharp against the black velvet sky, and I feel my pulse slow, like the universe decided to hush the storm inside me at once.

He pats the space beside him. “Come on up. I’ll give you a proper tour.”

I hesitate. Being near him feels dangerous in a way I can’t quite explain. But the blanket looks soft, and the stars are too pretty to admire alone. So I climb onto the bumper and crawl into the truck bed.

The air between us shifts the second I sit down. He shrugs out of his jacket, rough denim lined in flannel, and drapes it over my shoulders without a word. The warmth, the smell of him—leather, hay and soap—wraps around me, and I let out a sigh.

He lies back again, arms folded under his head, eyes on the sky. “That one there’s Cassiopeia. Looks like a W. Pa used to point it out to me when I was little.”

There’s a crack in his voice when he says “Pa,” so faint I almost miss it. My chest aches. I want to reach for him, want to lift the weight off his chest and carry it for him.

Instead, I lie back too. “I never noticed how many stars there are.”

“The city lights drown ’em out.” He glances at me, mouth curving. “Out here, you can’t hide from ’em.”

Our eyes catch, and suddenly, the stars aren’t the brightest thing in the sky.

I don’t know who leans in first, only that his mouth is on mine, warm and rough and steady, and my whole body lights up like those constellations overhead. He kisses me like he’s been holding back for years, like he’s starving.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Tell me to stop, Clem.”

I just shake my head, eyes wide.

And that’s all it takes.

His hand slides beneath the jacket, skimming my waist, pulling me closer until he’s half sprawled on top of me. The blanket shifts under us as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against mine, hot and confident. My body answers before my mind can catch up, arching into him, desperate for more.

He groans, low and ragged, when my hips shift against him. His hand cups the back of my neck, thumb stroking the line of my jaw. “Sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re askin’ for.”

“Yes, I do.” My voice trembles but doesn’t break. “I want you.”

The words wreck him. He sits up, pulling me into his lap, kissing me harder, deeper. His hat tumbles somewhere behind us. His hands roam—down my back, up my sides, reverent and greedy all at once.

When he eases me back down onto the blanket, his body covering mine, I’m shaking with want and fear and anticipation. Colton clocks it. “You sure about this?” he asks, voice ragged. “You tell me no, and I’ll stop. Right now.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sure.”

He kisses me again, slower but rougher, his hands roaming like he’s staking a claim on every inch of me.

My shirt gets yanked over my head and tossed somewhere near the tailgate.

His mouth drags down my throat, hot and greedy, sucking at the swell of my breast until I whimper and arch up against him.

Then his hand slips lower, sliding into my shorts, and my legs fall open without thinking. His fingers stroke through me, finding me already wet, and a broken sound rips out of me.

“Christ, Clem,” he mutters, rubbing my clit with the pad of his thumb before sinking a finger inside me. “You’re so tight.”

The stretch makes me gasp, but he’s slow, careful, curling his finger just right until I’m squirming under him. He adds another, pumping them steady, building me up until I can’t keep quiet anymore.

I’m panting, clawing at his shoulders, hips rocking helplessly into his hand. Then the orgasm slams through me—white-hot, shaking me apart as I come around his fingers, crying his name.

He watches me the whole time, eyes dark, chest heaving. Then he pulls his hand free, grabs his wallet, and flicks a foil packet out. “We can stop right now, Clem. Or—”

“Don’t you dare stop,” I cut in, breathless.

That’s all he needs. His belt clatters as he shoves his jeans down, his cock springing free—thick and hard. The sight of it makes my mouth go dry and water all at once. He rips the condom open, rolls it on with shaking hands, and settles between my thighs.

The blunt head of his cock pushes against my entrance, and even that has me whimpering. Then he’s sliding in, slow, inch by inch, splitting me open around him. It burns, sharp and sweet, tears stinging my eyes as my nails dig into his back.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs against my mouth, kissing me soft. “Breathe. Let me in. That’s it—atta girl.”

The words sink into me, his praise as dizzying as the stretch. The ache slowly gives way to something else—fullness, heat, the steady drag of his cock stretching my pussy. When he starts moving, rocking into me shallow and careful, the pain fades into a pulse of pleasure that has me gasping.

His hand slides between us, thumb finding my clit, and the sharp jolt of it makes me cry out, hips jerking against him.

The blanket rustles under us, the stars above are spinning, and when he groans in my ear—deep, guttural, breaking apart—I come undone again, clenching around him, my body milking his cock involuntarily.

He shudders hard, face buried in my neck, holding me close as he thrusts once, twice more before spilling into the condom with a ragged sigh.

After, he stays right there, chest heaving, his weight pressing me into the blanket. He kisses my temple, rough but sweet.

“God help me, Tiny,” he whispers. “Tell me we’re doing this again.”

I close my eyes, and pull him closer, nodding.

If it’s like this every time—God, yes. We’re doing this again.

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ALRIGHT—what did we think of that? ????????? Ready to flash back to the present and see where that takes us?