22 | Ridin’ high 🔥
COLTON
I lean back against my truck, eyes fixed on Marg’s front door. Clementine’s been inside almost an hour. I’ve run every errand I can think of, and now I’m just standing here waiting—itching for her to come back out.
Right as I’m about to lose my patience and march in after her, the hinges creak. And there she is—bright-eyed, freshly showered, looking like trouble wrapped in a pretty dress.
“Hey, baby,” I murmur, climbing the steps to meet her. “Got it all taken care of?”
She nods, and the scent of her jasmine shampoo curls up like smoke, hitting me square in the chest. “For now.”
I can’t help it. I slide an arm around her waist and pull her in, tucking her tight against me. She gives me butterflies—like a goddamn teenager—and I stand there a second, taking it all in.
She tilts her chin up, eyes catching mine. “I want to go on a date.”
That throws me. I blink down at her. “Yes, ma’am.”
But she eases back, like she needs me to understand. “Nothing too crazy, Colton. I just… I want to do it once. Out in the open. Just to see what it’d be like if we were really dating.”
I tip my hat, a slow grin spreading across my face. “I can do that.”
----
The truck rumbles beneath us, gravel crunching under the tires as I drive us by pastures and cornfields. Clementine sits pretty in the passenger seat, legs crossed, the hem of her dress brushing smooth skin I can’t stop glancing at.
Her brows lift as she looks at me. “Where are you takin’ me?”
“You said you wanted a date,” I say, grinning. “Figured I’d get everything out of it if it’s just once.”
She studies me, eyes flicking to the window as the fairgrounds come into view, strung with lights and a ferris wheel turning slow against the dusky sky. Fiddle music, laughter, faint screams from a ride drift on the breeze.
Her lips part. “Colton McGraw, are you takin’ me to the county fair?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I ease into the lot and kill the engine. “Can’t think of a better place to show off my girl.”
She rolls her eyes, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks pinken.
We step out into the heat of the evening, and I automatically reach for her hand.
I don’t even think—just lace my fingers through hers and lead her through the crowd like I’ve been doing it my whole life.
And Lord, if it don’t feel right. Folks glance our way, and for once, she doesn’t pull away. My chest blooms hot with pride.
I got a few weeks with her once—one summer with her seven years ago—and it’s ruined me for everyone else. No one’s ever made me feel close to what she does. I tried dating other girls, but it never quite hit the same. So I threw myself into the ranch, where I was more than needed anyway.
But tonight I’m living it up—showing off my girl.
The fair’s alive around us—kids running with cotton candy, the air thick with the scent of fried dough and popcorn.
Clementine’s eyes go wide like a little girl’s, and my chest damn near bursts.
She’s spent years in some city with glass towers and elevators, but here she is, lit up like a Christmas tree over a row of carnival games.
“Are you going to win me something?” she teases, nudging my hip.
I give her a look that makes her laugh, then hand a few bills to the fella running the ring toss.
I’ve been lassoing since before I could walk, but suddenly my palms are sweating.
She leans closer, resting her hand lightly on my back, and suddenly my aim steadies.
The first ring lands clean, then another.
By the time I’ve won her a stuffed horse—ugly as sin, brown with a crooked grin and glittery eyes—she’s grinning at me like I just lassoed the moon.
“I hate it,” she says, clutching it to her chest like it’s the most precious thing on earth.
I tug her close, drop my mouth by her ear. “You’re welcome, darlin’.”
She hides her face in the horse, but I see her smile.
We walk the grounds, hand in hand. Every so often I catch sight of someone I know—neighbors, ranch hands, old classmates. A few raise brows. A few nod. And all I can think is, good. Let ’em know she’s mine.
When we pass the food stalls, Clementine points at the funnel cakes. “Please tell me we’re getting one.”
“Sugar, I’d buy you three.”
We get just one to share, powdered sugar dustin’ her lips as she bites into it. I lean in, thumb swiping it away, then lick it clean just to make her blush. She swats at me, but she’s laughing—the kind of laugh I want to hear every day for the rest of my life.
As the sun dips, we end up by the Ferris wheel. She hesitates, staring up at it.
“You scared?” I tease.
“No,” she lies, then adds, “Maybe a little.”
“Bite the bullet, baby,” I grin, holding out my arm.
She sighs, then ducks under it, tucking herself tightly against my chest. “Okay.”
That right there’s enough to undo me.
We climb into the gondola, and the wheel lurches us upward. The fair looks smaller with each yard we climb, lights looking like a pocketful of jewels scattered in the dirt. Clementine presses close, and I tighten my arm around her, keeping her snug.
“Not so bad, is it?” I murmur.
She’s stiff as steel, muscles strung tight. “Mhm.”
The gondola rocks gently at the top, and she all but climbs into my lap. She squeals, eyes closed, burying her face in my shoulder.
“Come on, Tiny,” I coax. “Best view of the town you’ll ever get. Don’t you wanna see?”
She peeks one eye open.
“Pretty, ain’t it?” I murmur, my hand sliding along the back of the seat to rest warm on her hip.
She nods, but she’s watching me now, not the view. Her lips part, chest rising quickly. Lord, she’s a sight—hair tumbling around her shoulders, cotton sundress riding high on her thighs.
“You’re the only thing I can’t stop lookin’ at,” I say low, and her breath hitches.
Before she can answer, I lean in, catching her mouth. It starts sweet, lips brushing, but when she arches against me, I deepen it—tongue sweeping slowly, claiming. She shivers, clutching my shirt like she’s trying to ground herself.
My hand slips higher, up her thigh, her smooth skin warm under my palm. She tenses, then melts, and I feel her legs part just enough.
“Colton,” she whispers, worry and need twined together.
“Shh, baby girl,” I murmur against her lips. “You gotta stay real quiet for me now. Think you can do that?”
Her nod is shaky, but her eyes are wild, begging.
“Good girl,” I praise, sliding the hem of her dress higher until her panties show. Pink lace—it takes all I have not to rip them to shreds right here. I dip my fingers under instead, sliding them home.
She’s already hot and slick, and the groan tears outta my chest before I can stop it. “Damn, Tiny. You this wet just sittin’ next to me?”
She bites her lip, nodding, and I cover her mouth with mine to swallow the little sound she makes when my fingers find her sweet spot.
“Easy now,” I coax, working her slow, steady, circling just right. “Don’t move, don’t make a sound. Let me take care of you.”
The wheel creaks, the world sways, and all I can hear is her desperate panting, her nails digging into my shoulder. She’s trembling, thighs squeezing around my hand, trying to chase her high.
“That’s it, darlin’. Ride my fingers. Show me how bad you need me.”
I curl my fingers up, heel of my hand grinding into her clit as she rolls her hips, and she’s done for. Her body goes tight, then shudders, a soft cry muffled against my mouth as she comes undone. I kiss her deep, swallowing every moan, holding her through it until she’s limp, boneless against me.
When she finally catches her breath, she lifts her face, already reaching for my buckle.
God almighty, I almost let her. But I catch her hand, pressing it to the hard outline of my cock instead. I cover it with mine, squeezing her little fingers around my shaft over the denim, but not taking it any further.
“Not here,” I rasp, firm but tender. “Not like this. We’re too close to the ground now. You’re gonna be a good girl and wait for me, you hear?”
Her whimper cuts through me, but I hold steady, pressing my forehead to hers.
“I’ll give you every bit of me, Tiny. But when I do, it’ll be proper. Slow. In a bed where I can take my time with you.”
Her lashes flutter, her breath shivers, but she nods, eyes shining. “You better take me straight home then, cowboy.”
A low chuckle rumbles out of me, dark and rough. “Darlin’, if you keep lookin’ at me like that, we’ll never make it to the bed.”
The wheel jerks and continues its slow descent, lights flashing across her flushed cheeks. By the time the gondola bumps to a stop at the bottom, she’s straightened her dress and fixed her hair.
I pull her up with me, tucking her against my side as we step off, her legs still buckling. Neither of us says a word—we’re too keyed up, too aware of each other. Her fingers curl in the front of my shirt like she’s hanging on for dear life.
“Come on,” I growl, steering her through the crowd. “Before I change my mind and take you right here.”
We make it to the truck in a half-run, both of us laughing breathlessly, like kids caught sneakin’ out. I shove the door open and she climbs in, dress hiked up high, eyes still hazy with what I just did to her.
By the time I slam my own door, she’s slid across the bench seat, pressed up against me, hand on my bulge and lips at my ear. “You better drive fast,” she whispers, voice wrecked.
I grin, start the engine, and gun it out of the lot. “Get ready, Tiny. Soon as we cross that porch, I’m claimin’ every inch of you.”
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How did we like that? Why do you think she suddenly didn't mind being seen with him? ?? Let's see what happens next ??????