Chapter Eighteen
Rex
“ R ex?”
“I’m here,” I shout over my shoulder, putting the curry comb and hoof pick away.
“You didn’t have to do the morning chores.” Birdie’s voice draws closer.
I huff and close the tack closet door more roughly than necessary, because I hear what’s unsaid. She wants to start up the chores again. Tomorrow is the big event, and a week later, I’m out of here.
I should have been gone weeks ago when my horn clamp blinked and fell off, but that’s a technicality I’m trying hard to hide. My probation officer’s tech team thought they found a work-around to the overtime hours by disabling my device early, before the end of my twelve weeks, but jokes on them. I know my way around a roll of duct tape. Thank the Mother Below, Officer Gertie Dale wasn’t willing to wrestle me in public to get it back. I’m not leaving a day earlier than the end of my probation, and that’s that.
Soon enough, Birdie will be all alone in the dead of winter. I hate it. What if she needs help or an animal gets hurt? They’re all chaotic-ass goobers who injure themselves for no damn reason.
“Mimi fucked up her leg,” I grumble.
“What? How bad?” She rushes into the young Umbran mare’s paddock, looking pretty as a picture in a long-sleeve red shirt and leggings that leave nothing to the imagination. She tempts the horse closer with a treat to check out the injury.
This is what I’m worried about. Sure, she’s lived out here alone for a while since her asshole ex never really gave a shit about helping out—fucking shitbag—but still. I imagine her doing all this alone, tending to her dumbass horse who messed up her leg being a giant dork.
“It’s just a scrape. Looked clean,” I explain. “I dressed and wrapped it with some antibiotic but you should give her a look over too.”
“What happened?” She moves to Mimi’s side and lifts the injured leg, peeking under the wrapping. For being a thousand pounds, horses are fragile as fuck.
“Mimi and Vince are best buds, so she thinks she can run full tilt into the corner of the fence racing that hay-for-brains kid.”
On cue, my plump little goat son noses through a crack in the fence, one he created I might add, to bound over to Mimi. With a one-two jump against the trough, he hops on top of her back. The horse doesn’t even flinch as he prances up and down her spine. Thick as thieves, these two idiots.
“Vince?” Birdie asks.
“Oh, yeah. Dewdrop doesn’t really fit anymore. You were right. Too whimsical for his goofy ass.” I smile, forgetting I’d renamed him in my head a couple days ago when he broke into the supply shed and chewed through three sample cans of paint—red, green, and white. He was a pain in the ass to clean up too, snorting fire and smoke the whole time. “After turning himself into abstract fucking Christmas drip art, I thought of a new name. Vincent van Goat.”
She snorts out a laugh. “You sure this name’s gonna stick?”
“Vince!” I bark. His head cocks sideways and he stamps his back legs. I wink at Birdie. “He seems to like it.”
“I’m glad he’s made a new friend.” She scratches Mimi’s forehead up to the sensitive space between her still-growing horns, and Vince butts in right overhead, so she laughs and scratches him too. “He’s gonna miss you, though.”
Will you miss me? I wish I had the courage to ask. Then again, it’s probably just asking for heartache. I know where we stand. We’re fucking like bunnies until she gets to kick my chaotic ass out and regain her peace of mind. I like to think I bring more good than trouble to her life, but who really knows. Facts are facts. She only just got jilted. She’s got this new direction for the ranch to focus on. There’s no way she’s ready for all my heart-eyed, forever feelings.
“I wanted to show you the eastern fence line I fixed up,” I say.
“Oh, the one the moose herd overruns every year?”
“Yeah, I rolled some new boulders along the natural path they take then cleared some old brush so they’re more likely to migrate over the land bridge instead of fucking up your fences.” Their annual migration through Birdie’s ranch knocks down her fences, and every year she has to put them back up since they're the biggest deterrent for bears.
“Oh, the upper ridge of that valley can totally be a land bridge. Smart!” The grin she shoots me over her shoulder hits me straight in the chest. “We’ll see if it works next fall.”
I nod with a noisy exhale. Will we? Unless I commit another major crime requiring a year’s worth of community service, why would I be here?
I can’t lie. The thought has absolutely crossed my mind. But I’m not dumb enough to think old Judge Grimshaw isn’t just as likely to throw me in some ancient dungeon a mile underground instead.
“Let’s ride Gigi out there,” I say.
“Together?” Satisfied with the horse’s dressing, she comes back to the stall gate I’m leaning over.
“We’ve done it before.” I cock an eyebrow. It was the day she nearly got herself killed at the skin-melting Sula Hot Springs.
“Sure. Yeah.” She’s smiling, a little bashful, and I can’t wait to get my hands on her. Relive a little history, but on happier terms than her in a torn wedding dress, stiff as a board against me.
We separate Vince farther away from Mimi—supervised visitation only from now on—and saddle up the larger mare. Gigi neighs softly, her tail high and swishing, showing she’s eager to go out. And while she’s a lot more steady and mature than her daughter, she’s still an Umbran by nature with a wanderlust to ride.
“You comfortable?” I adjust myself in my seat behind Birdie, pressing her thighs tighter back against mine. Oof. The cleft of her ass is a perfect fit for my cock to rest, and it takes the opportunity to squeeze out all the additional space by going half hard in an instant. I clear my throat. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She grins over her shoulder.
Fuck, she’s pretty when she’s happy. I kiss her cheek and sigh against her hair as we get moving. She’s got the reins this time, unlike the only other time we shared a horse. My hands tighten on her legs, moving down to the knees and back up, like I need to soothe myself.
“I don’t know if I ever thanked you for saving me that day,” she says, remembering the same thing I am. “I was so embarrassed. So shaken up. But that ride home, the two of us on Gigi together, I felt so at ease with you. It almost unsettled me how good it felt to be in your arms.”
I squeeze them around her, my cheek rubbing against her temple, wanting to hold her forever. “You’re not used to feeling safe, honey?”
“I’m used to my needs being mostly ignored.” Her short laugh lacks warmth. “And I’m coming to terms with that partly being my fault, for not asking, for never expecting anything from anyone. Over time, I got used to being the only one who could make myself feel safe.”
“But you liked that I made you feel that way?” I ask. She nods. “Good. I like it too.”
We ride on, watching the snowy hills pass and the early morning sun glow around the mountain peaks in the distance. Watching autumn blend into winter in real time, on the land, is different than simply marking the months on a digital calendar, or in my case, living in a hot climate where it’s hard to tell. Out here, the seasons matter. Time is a colorful, living thing that makes me really wonder what the fuck I’m doing with mine.
“I could easily live like this every day. Work outside. Be a farmer or some shit. I’d be set.”
“Yeah?” Birdie’s voice squeaks out. Shit, did I make that weird? It almost sounded like an insinuation I want to stay, which I do, but what a fucking gross overstep. Better to explain where my mind was really at.
“I used to spend summers with my uncle on a ranch kind of like this. A lot fucking hotter in east Texas though, I’ll say that.” I chuckle. “But that was the only place my parents could drop me off when my brothers went to the enrichment camps I never got accepted into, what with my bad grades and discipline problems. I’ve never measured up to them. I do what I can to help the family business, odd jobs and shit, but I’m sure I’ve always just been a disappointment.”
And I don’t feel like that here, I want to say, with you. But I already let slip that I could stay here forever and didn’t mean to come off like I was angling for something.
“There’s no way that’s true!” Birdie’s hands shake enough that Gigi kicks from a walk into a slow trot.
“Feels like it.” I grab her waist and the pommel to steady myself until she slows back down. “In a family full of business-minded demons, I work with my hands more than my head. When I build something, it feels like it’s mine. I did a thing. I’m a fucking loser unless you put something in my hands and give me directions.”
“That doesn’t make you a fucking loser. I needed your help. The sanctuary projects wouldn’t even exist without you.”
“I can nail two boards together. Woo-hoo. I do the easy shit other people don’t have time for.”
“I’ve seen what you’re capable of, Rex Perchaz, and it’s not just the easy shit. Aside from the big projects you finished for me, think about the everyday things—the leaky faucet you fixed in the barn that’s been dripping for months.”
“Two minutes with plumber’s tape.” I scoff. “It’s not rocket science.”
“My Jeep’s flat tire last week. I’d have waited hours until roadside assistance came.”
“I told you, stubborn woman. All you have to do is read the instructions in the glove box. Anyone can change a fucking tire.”
She growls and pokes me with her elbow. “The tire leash so the goats can free-range graze. A loser didn’t do that. I could argue someone with a stroke of genius did.”
“I’m a genius now?” I chuckle. “Poor girl. The cold must have frozen those pretty brain cells of yours. Maybe I got you dickmatized.” That’s a nice thought. I shift in my seat when it makes me kind of hard.
“I said, stroke of .” She throws a cutting look over her shoulder. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“I’ll give you something to stroke.”
“Pig!” She laughs.
“Alright, fine. You win. I’m the next Einstein.”
“No.” She whips around to face me over her shoulder.
“Ouch,” I say.
“You’re you, Rex.” Her nose scrunches with a determined glare. “The most capable, inventive, and hard-working person I’ve ever met. That’s not nothing. That’s everything . You can do anything. I’ve seen it.” She’s huffing and puffing now, each exhale an angry steam cloud in the winter air.
“Now don’t go getting mad at me for being awesome.” I grin. Fuck, I love to see her passion break out in new ways, like her defending me against shit talking myself. Feels good.
“Have you ever thought . . .” She shakes her head. “Nevermind. I’m projecting.”
“Spit it out.”
She glances over her shoulder. “Maybe it’s not that you don’t fit in with your family business, but that your family business isn’t the right fit for you.”
Something inside me jolts like a record scratch. “I, well . . .”
“Not to send you into the same spiral I was in a couple years ago,” she clears her throat. “But I spent way too long in a job I hated before realizing that as much as I love my dad, I’d rather live my life for me than him. I can make billionaires more money on their investments just fine, but I’d rather be here. And you know what?” She peeks at me shrugs. “My dad and I are still good, as is his business.”
“That’s part of what I worry about,” I say, making a connection I never have before. “What would my family do without me to fix shit for them?”
“How have they managed these last few months?” she asks.
“Well, they’ve been working with a vetted list of contractors I know are reliable.”
“I hear demons are really finicky about contracts,” she jokes, knowing all too well how demons operate in business. “I’m guessing Perkatory is doing just fine.”
“My brothers are total hard asses, yeah,” I say absent-mindedly, realizing they don’t need me. Shit. Not really. And while normally that would feed the inner critic that says I’m not useful to the family, this time it doesn’t.
I feel . . . free.
I could work for myself. Odd jobs and shit. A general contractor maybe. I need to talk to Rom. He’s a whiz with paperwork and legal stuff.
“You’re pretty fucking smart.” I squeeze the tops of her thighs. “Anybody ever tell you that?”
“Someone, yeah. A time or two.” There’s a smile in her voice. I move her hair to one shoulder and kiss her neck to keep her warm. “But so are you. I hope you know what a difference you’ve made here at Wild Hearts. For me.”
“I might’ve helped you some, but you do the same for me, Birdie Lynn. You showed me that life can be more than just a hard day’s work. That a hard day’s work can be meaningful. That maybe I can make things better like you, not just chaotic and fucked up.”
“Chaos is nature's way. We see it every day out here.” Her arm waves at the wild terrain around us. “You're perfect, Rex. Just as you are.”
I hug her tighter from behind, the knowledge soaking into me. Changing me. My body feels overly hot, throat tight. What can a guy say to something like that?
Each motion as we walk jostles her body against me, the slow rock of the horse’s gait both predictable and maddening. I squeeze the tops of her thick thighs, just wanting to feel her closer. Every perfect inch. Every last second we have.
And then there’s something else in the air. I flick my tongue out to taste the air then sniff down her neck.
I look down the open valley of her neckline to her leggings and recognize the source. It’s not the bumps of her pretty tits or the slope of her stomach. It’s where her legs split over the saddle. The smell. The taste in the air.
Her arousal is blooming for me. She doesn’t have a steel rod of a cock giving her away, but I’m a demon, and her scent is just as telling. Just as affecting. I huff against her neck and kiss a spot right behind her ear, letting my hands wander again, squeezing the hard muscle of her quads, the soft flesh of her thighs.
The scent of her unique wildflower sweetness grows stronger.
“Birdie Lynn.” I nip at her ear. “Behave.”
Her eyelashes flutter as she lets a hint of a smile loose.
“I can control my body as much as you can.” She snorts and wiggles against my cock. My hands move up to clamp down on her hips which makes her movement slow to a grind. “Besides, there’s no behaving around you.”
“That’s fucking right.” I hum, squeezing the plump flesh of her inner thighs again then trace the seam of the thick leggings keeping her warm and protected from the saddle burn. My forearm brackets her sternum tight against me while my free hand slips into her waistband. She gasps but doesn’t stop me.
I slide my fingers under the leggings but stay over her panties. All the way down. I squeeze her whole pussy lightly, then start to explore the dampness right over the gusset. My fingers wiggle and press, tracing just enough to feel where her lips would give way.
“So wet,” I growl, teasing her over the fabric, holding back from making contact with her slick skin. “You’re so fucking hot for me here. I bet I’d slide balls deep in one go with how needy this perfect pussy is, wouldn’t I?” Her chest rises faster. “You’d feel so fucking good warming my cock on a long, slow ride. I’d keep you there, full of me, until you couldn’t stand it anymore.” She trembles, her scent like a mist around me as she soaks through the fabric barrier between us, like her body is preparing to make space and take me inside her. I slide up a little and circle over where her clit is hiding.
“It’s better if we wait, honey.” Like how long I’ve waited to have her this pliant and needy in my arms, to smile at me without hesitation, to invite me into her life. Her home.
Still, I want more. I want it all. The future, not just a few more stolen moments. And I have to prove, even in small ways, that I’m not just a wild fuck. I’m someone who can take care of her, who she can be soft around. Someone who deserves her.
“Have patience.” I land three soft strikes right there, love pats that earn a squeak of surprise. My hand pulls free of her leggings, as I’m barely resisting the urge to finger fuck her into oblivion. It would be so easy, but the tease is half the fun. I go back to fondling her over her clothing—her thighs, her waist, her soft belly, her gentle bite-sized breasts—until she’s leaning back, cheeks dark with color, hot pants turning to steam in the cooler air. I suck on her neck, bite her ear.
“We should take our time.”
“You’re evil.” She turns back and nips at my chin with a teasing smile. Her fingernails dig into the meat of my thigh, making my blood sing.
“And you”—my free hand reaches up to wrench down her thin cotton bra—“make it so hard to be polite.” Her nipples, tight from arousal and the cold temperature, poke against her top, and I just catch sight of them down the valley of her neckline as she pushes her chest out. I pluck at them, plumping the softness of one then the other, salivating to get my mouth on her. Anywhere. My exhales turn rough as I suck at her pulse, feeling the warm lifeblood pumping just under my teeth. Her ass moves against me, purposefully exaggerating the rocking motion of the horse’s gait.
“Can’t help it can you? Grinding this sexy body on me, knowing how bad I need you.”
“Rex,” she gasps, legs tightening slightly with a little pinch between her brows. “I need you too.”
“Get off the horse, Birdie Lynn,” I order darkly.
She huffs, leans forward, and urges Gigi to a faster walk. Even that move, lifting up out of the saddle lightly to sit back down, drags roughly against my cock. When we turn to move down a hill, I clasp her upper body tight against me again so we can lean back together, breathing in sync with every motion.
Fuck, this feels so right.
We veer off into a grove of mountain aspen. It’s a beautiful spot, hidden off the normal animal trails. Hundreds of trees with smooth white bark stand taller than tall in a field of downy snow, sheltered by a glacial-gray rock wall. Snow covers the ground and limbs like powdered sugar. An artist with an eye for the crisp, bright nature of changing seasons could spend a whole day painting the scene, marveling at how even early into winter’s reign, many of the trees’ giant golden leaves refuse to fall. Clinging to those last few days when they were bright and alive.
I know the feeling too well.
The horse slows to a stop, and I hop off, then lift Birdie down. Gigi gives me a snort and a sidelong glance, eyes dancing with flame. With my hands full of delicious womanly curves, I’d forgotten about Umbrans’ emotional connection to their riders. Whoops. My apologetic grimace turns to a chuckle as she lifts her head imperiously and trots a little ways off, tail swishing with irritation.
And then it’s just Birdie and me. She leans against the white trunk of the closest tree, a vision of dark hair and sparkling eyes in her festive ruby-red top.
The way she looks at me lately—unguarded in her playfulness, sensuality, frustration, everything—takes my breath away. Right now, her emotions are close to the surface, the taste and feel of her still fresh on my mind.
She wants me.
How much, though? And for how long?
I stalk toward her in three long strides and fold over her, holding her face in both hands. I want to know, want to see in her eyes what she won’t tell me in words, because I can’t bear to ask.
Do you want more too?
Not now though, right at the end of my charity-case deal with her, when she’s finally succumbed to my advances and we’ve reached a new normal.
Let me stay longer feels too selfish to say.
She’s got everything—the smarts, the land, the hopes and dreams. Could she really want me for more than something physical? The closer I get to our end date, the farther I fall, the more afraid I am to truly hope and the more inevitable it feels.
“Kiss me.” She nudges me with her nose, breaking the dark spiral of my thoughts.
My chest aches as her lips pluck at mine, warm and wet, before biting me lightly. I take off my thick canvas jacket to place it around her shoulders, protecting her from the chill. I love taking care of her, every way I can. The only fighting we do these days is pretend, a lead-in to laughter, jokes we both share. She’s all spun sugar and sweetness for me now. The hearth fire I never want to leave. She tugs at my collar with both fists.
“Kiss me, Rex.”
“Anytime. Always.”
Fuck. I need to get it together before I propose marriage or, knowing me, threaten to lock her away just for me, damn the consequences. After our little talk, I’m already thinking crazy things. What if I just quit Perkatory and worked for myself?
I’m already falling for a woman who may not feel the same but taking every last press of her lips on mine all the same. Every time.
Why not go all in?
I angle my mouth to kiss her deeper and my worries collapse. Her tongue strokes against mine, bringing me a direct hit of her sweet, minty taste.
“Need you,” she whispers against my lips, unbuckling and unzipping me in smooth movements.
I wrench her leggings and undies off and snatch her up until we’re face-to-face. Her legs lock around my waist, knees tightening. It only takes the slightest of adjustments for the hot tip of my cock to find her entrance.
Gravity brings her down. One soft, tight slide and she’s there, rooted on me. Her eyes flutter closed.
“No, ma’am.” I slide my nose against hers to rouse her. “Eyes on me.”
“I’m here.” Her breath hitches.
“Right here. With me.” I lift her up and down, testing my strength against the onslaught of pleasure that is being inside her. Her arms hitch tighter at my shoulders, and she rides me back, making my cock buck inside her.
“I was right, huh? This needy pussy needs to be fucked.”
“Balls deep in one go.” She smirks, eyes dancing.
“Smart-mouth.” I bite at her lips, thrusting faster until we share a rhythm and eye contact that’s soul deep.
“Evil demon.” She huffs a laugh, contracting around me.
“Can’t lie to me now, pinned on my cock like this. You can’t lie to me with those eyes. Not with your anger, not with your pleasure, and not in a million years with your passion. You never have to pretend with me, honey.”
“Rex,” she sobs.
“Give me that fire. Burn me up.” We move together. It’s different, more feral than being in her bedroom or the shower. Deeper. “I want every bite. Every kiss.” I bottom out and with an iron grip encourage her to grind over the hairy spot above my cock. With my hands occupied and hers dirty from the ride, she needs to stroke her clit on something. “Eyes on me, honey. Get yourself there. I’ve got all the time in the world.”
Her eyes flash up as her tempo stutters. That seems to unlock something in her, and she rolls on me, trying different motions until her pussy is fluttering and I’m barely holding on. It’s a staring contest — my favorite kind — as I watch the pleasure take over, feel her clench on me, an orgasm taking her by surprise in a flash of heat and wetness. She fights every flutter of her lashes to keep her eyes open. On me.
My jaw locks, muscles tense, as I stave off my release and let her work through it, unwilling to leave her body more than an inch or two as I thrust lightly, gripping her ass tight, warming her up with my hands. “Slow and deep now. Wild and rough later. Messy as fuck every damn time.”
“Yes. Please.” She kisses me, her gaze cataloging my face between each pass, like she’ll never see me again. Maybe she’s just as fucked up over me leaving. Is it too much to hope for? “I never want it to end.”
I growl. She doesn’t know how deep that hits, how much I wish it were true, so I bite back every bonehead thing I could say and fuck her instead, just like I said. This time for me. Deep and slow, watching her eyes shine in the dappled light of the woods as the clouds shift above us.
Every time I see her, I find something new, a slight change. Her nose is more regal, the shape of her lips more enticing, her hair even softer. Does she look at anyone else like this—so open, I can see her whole heart, every flash of wonder just on the surface?
“I need more,” she says, tightening her hold. “Closer.”
“Fuck.” My legs shake as the release rockets through me, imminent and heavy. “You take whatever you need.” I hide my face at her neck, kissing and biting and sucking in turn. If I want to stay standing, I can’t look at her right now. Her aftershocks flutter around me, like she’s squeezing the pleasure straight out of my soul. “Everything,” I whisper. “You own me.”