18 | Knockin’ boots 🔥🔥🔥
COLTON
“Forty-eight won’t cut it. You want ’em, you’ll pay fifty-nine. Final offer.”
I let the silence stretch, long enough to make him sweat. On the other end, I hear Hank shuffle, like he’s trying to buy himself time.
“You can shop around if you want,” I add, confident and easy. “But you’ll be back. You know the stock I’m runnin’. Ain’t nothin’ better out there, Hank.”
He grumbles, then caves, same as always. I grin, jot it down, and flip the page.
That’s when I feel it—eyes on me. I glance up, and there she is, half-hidden in the doorway like she knows she’s trespassing.
Clementine Holliday, dangerous as sin in that little white dress, denim shirt tied loose at her waist.
I tip my chin, crook a finger. ‘Come here’.
She hesitates, but only for a breath, then walks in. Something in my chest eases the second she does. When she’s close enough, I hook an arm around her and pull her down onto my lap without missing a beat.
“Yeah, I’ll need it in writin’,” I say to Hank, hand settling firm at Clementine’s waist as she squirms against me. “Wire’s fine. Have it here by the end of the week, or I’ll move the herd elsewhere.”
Hank folds quick this time. I hang up, set the phone down, and only then turn my full attention on the woman sitting pretty across my thighs.
“Hey, Tiny.”
She shifts, testing me, but doesn’t climb off. “Do you still have those boots?”
I chuckle, low. “Women’s size four? Yeah, I’ve been hangin’ onto ’em. Ain’t found another cowgirl pixie small enough to fit.”
She rolls her eyes. “How much were they? I’d like to buy them off you.”
I lean back, take in the long tumble of hair framing her face. “Come on now, girl. Those were a gift. A welcome-back present, if you will.”
She stiffens. “I’m not—”
“You’re not back,” I finish, harsher than I mean to. “Loud and clear, Tiny.” I push her off my lap, my hand dragging to the small of her back as I guide her outside. “Come on. They’re in the barn.”
We make our way over in silence, and the air shifts as we step into the warmth. It’s not just the scent of hay and cattle hitting us—it’s her eyes on me, her gaze heavy as I lead her toward the loft stairs in the back.
“Colton, can I ask you something personal?”
“I’d prefer it.”
She keeps close behind me, voice quieter. “It’s about Raymond.”
I nod once. “Go on then, darlin’.”
She glances up at me. “What was it like, when he died?”
I freeze, but only for a beat. “What was it like when your mama died, Tiny?”
She stiffens. “This isn’t about me.”
I roll my shoulders, keep climbing. “Well… don’t know what you want me to say. My Pa died. Felt pretty bad.”
We reach the loft. I guide her down onto a hay bale, then drop to my knees in front of her. She catches my arms, stilling me.
“And the ranch just kept going, didn’t it?”
I tip my hat back to meet her eyes. “Ranch don’t slow down for anybody.”
She half-smiles. “That’s what Mama said. Did you just… take over? Was there even time to mourn him?”
I pull her sneaker onto my thigh, work the laces loose, taking my time. “I cried, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry we never talked about it before, Colton.”
My chest tightens. “You had other ways of distractin’ me, Tiny.”
“That’s not the same,” she argues. “We both lost a parent and never even… talked about it.”
I pull off her shoe. “You tryin’ to counsel me, darlin’?”
“Forget it.”
She pulls her leg out of my grip, and I lean over her. “I was actually thinkin’ skin-to-skin therapy was as deep as it could get in our sex-only deal.”
In one swift movement, I’ve got her flat on her back against the hay bale and got her dress pushed up to her hips.
She yelps, but I shake my head. “You’re gonna have to be real quiet, Tiny. There’s people walkin’ in and out of here all the time.”
Before she can argue, I have her legs hooked over my shoulders and I’m shoving her panties to the side.
“Colton—”
“I’m gonna bury my feelings right here between your thighs, baby.” And then I’m on her, sealing my mouth over her smooth, hot center. I drag my tongue up, spearing it when I get to her clit. A gasp escapes her, back arching clean off the bale. “Jesus—”
I hum against her core, licking slow. The taste of her, god—those sounds she makes. I’m painfully hard, cock straining against my zipper, but I don’t touch myself.
I lock her thighs tighter over my shoulders, tongue working her open, sucking her clit hard enough to make her squeal. My hand slaps over her mouth.
“Quiet,” I growl into her pussy. “You want the whole damn ranch to hear you?”
She shakes her head, wide-eyed, but the second I slide two fingers up into her, she bucks hard enough the floorboards creak under us.
She’s hot, slick, squeezing tight around me.
My mouth works faster, tongue flicking her clit, my fingers crooking ‘come’, just like earlier—but with a different meaning now.
I keep going until she’s sobbing into my palm.
“That’s it,” I rasp, pulling back just long enough to look up at her. Her dress is bunched high, breasts spilling out just enough to see her pretty nipples. “Give it to me, Tiny. Don’t hold back now.”
She claws at my hair, dragging me back down. She’s riding my mouth, grinding her pussy against my tongue, and I let her—licking her raw, savoring every cry and gasp like it’s mine by right.
Her thighs tremble, body straining, and then she breaks. Comes hard on my face, muffled screams caught under my hand. I lick her through it, greedy, tongue stroking slowly until she jerks and shoves at me.
Only then do I ease off, my mouth dragging down her thigh. My chin is wet, my fingers glistening when I pull them free. I rise slowly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and unzip.
I shove down my pants and boxers. My cock springs free, heavy and aching. Her eyes go wide, still dazed. I hook my hands under her knees, drag her ass right to the edge of the hay bale.
“Colton—”
“You already took what you wanted off my mouth, baby. Now I’m takin’ the rest.”
I drag my tip through her slickness and slide into her wet heat in one solid thrust. She cries out, head tipping back, and I swallow the sound with my mouth, kissing her hard and messy—possessive.
She’s soaked and still fluttering from her orgasm, gripping me like a vise. My thrusts are rough, relentless, hay sticking to our sweat-slick skin. Every time I drive in, the bale shifts, creaking like it’ll give way.
Her nails rake my shoulders, her body straining to keep up. “God, Colt—”
“Say my name when you come,” I growl into her ear, hips snapping as I pound into her. I slide a hand between us, circling her sensitive clit.
She instantly shatters on me, my name broken on her lips, pussy squeezing my length until I damn near lose it. I pull out, fist my shaft and stroke fast, groaning low as I spill hot across her stomach and thighs.
For a second, we’re both just panting, and then she looks up at me.
“What the fuck was that?”
I straighten, pulling my pants up and looking around for something to clean her up with. Then the words register. “What was what?”
She swallows hard, propping herself up on her elbows. “That wasn’t just a quickie—that was angry.”
I freeze. She’s right. Christ—she’s right.
I drag a hand down my jaw, exhaling slowly, buying time. “Sorry. Didn’t mean for it to be.”
“Don’t apologize.” She shifts, glancing down at the mess I left on her stomach. “It was still good. But… why?”
I ain’t got a pretty answer. I peel off my undershirt and wipe her clean, careful even when my chest feels anything but. “Because it started feelin’ real again.”
When I’m done, I toss the shirt aside and help her to her feet. She fixes her panties and tugs her dress down, but she doesn’t speak.
“You were askin’ about me,” I say, voice low and rough. “Carin’. Being soft with me. You keep givin’ me snippets of something real, just to turn around and tell me it’s just sex.” I clench my jaw. “I can’t keep takin’ that. Not when I want more.”
Clementine bites her lip. “I thought we agreed—”
I nod once, stiff, grabbing her boots off the shelf and handing them to her. “Reckon I can’t keep that deal after all.”
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Oh... Oh no. ?? Do you guys still like me or am I pushing my luck? ????