Chapter 25
twenty-five
I wake up with a jolt. Feeling fucking incredible, my body becomes instantly aware of two things.
One: I’m hard as a fucking rock.
Two: My hand is cupping Sasha’s bare breast under her T-shirt, face buried in her silky hair with the sweet scent of her shampoo filling my nose.
Fuck. This is not how I planned to start my morning.
Our bodies are intertwined—my chest pressing against her back with one leg wedged between both of hers, and her perfect ass nestled up against my cock. Her nipple pebbles beneath my palm, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to squeeze and slide my thumb over the hardened peak.
As much as I want to stay exactly like this—maybe even wake her up with my mouth on her neck and my hand sliding beneath the waistband of her sweats—it would probably be pushing it.
Holding my breath, I carefully untangle my legs and slowly slide my hand out from under her shirt. The small whimper of protest goes straight to my dick as she stirs, but thankfully, she doesn’t wake.
Easing myself out of bed, I grip myself over my boxers as I wander quietly toward the kitchen.
After getting the coffee started, I grab some clean clothes and head for the shower. The hot water feels good, and I lean my forearms against the tile wall, letting it beat against my neck. But it does little to calm the ache or thoughts racing through my head.
I told Sasha about the ranch. About owning it. About designing Night Hunters. And she didn’t freak out or look at me any differently. She just... accepted it. Accepted me.
Christ, if someone had told me a year ago I’d be standing here in this moment, fighting the urge to go back to bed and wake Sasha up with my mouth between her legs, I would’ve laughed my ass off.
Jax Riley, small-town fuckboy bringing a woman to the one place that means the most to me? Wanting more than just a quick, meaningless fuck?
My forehead hits the cool tile, and I groan. Me? Falling this hard, this fast? Not a fucking chance.
But have I fallen for her?
Shit. Do I want to wake up with her every morning, and not just this one? Show her everything that matters to me, share every part of my life with her? Do I want to be the one she turns to when she needs someone to lean on?
I don’t know.
Not wanting to dwell on that possibility any further, I hurry and finish, turning the water to cold for the last few seconds to get my thoughts in order and my head on straight.
After drying off, I get dressed in jeans and a dark gray Henley and head back out to the main room.
Sasha’s still asleep, with one arm tucked beneath the pillow and her head. She looks peaceful, gorgeous. I can’t help it. I just stand there and stare for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
After pouring two cups of coffee, I sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under my weight, and she stirs, eyes fluttering open. For a second, she looks confused, then recognition dawns and she smiles up at me sleepily.
“Morning, beautiful.”
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.
Hair tousled, there’s a faint crease on her cheek that I find ridiculously endearing.
She sits up and stretches, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before taking the mug from my hand. “Thanks. What time is it?”
“Just after seven.” Taking a sip from my mug, I try not to stare when her shirt slips off her shoulder. It reminds me of how she told me last night that she doesn’t wear a bra to bed. “I figured we’d get an early start. Breakfast, then a horseback ride. What do you think?”
Her eyes light up. “I’d love that.”
“Great.” I stand, giving her space. “I’ll let you get ready. Meet you outside in a bit?”
She nods.
I take my coffee and go out onto the porch to give her some privacy. The morning air is crisp, carrying the fresh scent of pine. I lean against the railing, watching thin rays of sunlight filter through the trees.
By the time she comes out, I’ve finished my coffee. Dressed in jeans and a simple blue T-shirt, her hair is pulled up in a ponytail.
She takes my breath away.
“Ready?”
“Absolutely.”
She climbs into the golf cart, and I catch a whiff of her shampoo as I settle in beside her.
I mentally shake my head, knowing it’s going to take everything I’ve got in me to keep my hands to myself the rest of the day.
After breakfast, we head straight to the barn, where a couple of ranch hands are preparing our horses.
“I figured you might like to ride Maverick,” I tell her. “He’s perfect for someone who’s ridden before but might be a little rusty.”
Miguel, one of our most experienced ranch hands, shows Sasha how to saddle Maverick. Even though she used to ride, it’s been years, and I want to make sure she’s comfortable before we hit the trails.
He’s patient, showing her how to position the saddle pad, lift the western saddle into place, and secure the cinch.
Sasha listens intently, following his instructions with careful attention. “Like this?” she asks, tightening the cinch.
“Perfect,” Miguel nods. “Now check if you can fit your fingers between the cinch and her belly. It should be snug but not too tight.”
The way she’s so focused on getting it done right does something to my insides, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
Hollis comes up to stand beside me, shoving his hands in his pockets. I can feel him side-eyeing me, which tells me he’s holding something back. The old coot has never been one to mince words, so his silence is a little off-putting.
“Just spit it out, old man.”
“You like her,” he states simply.
Feeling oddly defensive, I shake my head. “It’s not what you think.”
He pauses to look me over with eyes I know can see right through my bullshit, and shakes his head. “The way you look at her, it’s... different. You really like her.”
There’s something calm about his tone that makes me drop the act, and I sigh. “Yeah. I do.”
His chuckle is warm and full of understanding. “Good for you, son. It’s about damn time you let a woman break through that unbreakable shell of yours.”
I frown and shove my hands in my pockets, mirroring his stance. It’s crazy how easily he’s always been able to read me.
Hollis sighs and claps a big, calloused hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It’s a good thing, Jax. Letting someone in. Just… don’t overthink it, okay? Now go,” he growls fondly, giving me a little shove. “Have fun.”
Taking his advice to heart, I grin and shove him back.
After he leaves, I watch Sasha for a couple of more minutes. By the time we’re ready to head out, she looks more confident, stroking Maverick’s neck and murmuring softly to him.
“Almost ready,” I say, walking over as she adjusts the stirrups. “Just need to grab something.”
Remembering a pair of cowboy hats I stored in the tack room the last time I visited, I grab them and my horse.
“You remember how to mount?” I ask, leading Ember over.
Sasha nods, grips the saddle horn and shoves her foot in the stirrup, swinging herself up with surprising grace. “Like riding a bike,” she says with a grin, adjusting herself in the saddle.
Handing her one of the hats, I put mine on, mount Ember and settle in. “Ready?”
“Lead the way, cowboy,” she teases.
We start off at an easy pace, following a well-worn trail that winds through the forest before it opens up to sprawling meadows. I keep glancing over, watching how she moves, her body relaxed and confident.
She catches me looking, she raises an eyebrow. “What?”
I shrug, unable to keep the smile from my face. “You look good on a horse, is all.”
Her cheeks flush, and she turns her attention back to the trail a pleased smile playing on her lips.
After about an hour, the trail opens up onto a vast meadow. Wildflowers in purple and yellow dot the landscape, swaying gently in the breeze. Mountains rise majestically in the distance, their peaks still dusted with snow despite the summer heat.
“This is gorgeous.”
“It sure is,” I grin.
We keep going for another half-hour before stopping near a creek so the horses can drink. Then I rummage through my saddlebag, pulling out a folded blanket and a small insulated pack I had Meg prepare for us after secretly asking her for a favor the day before.
After our break, we pack everything up and ride for a little while longer. When it gets close to lunchtime, we turn around and head back, arriving just in time to hang out with a bunch of kids visiting from an elementary school.
By the end of the day, we’re both practically dead on our feet, so we grab a quick dinner at the cafeteria before heading back to the cabin. The kids who were here for therapy sessions ran us both ragged with questions and requests to see various tricks with the horses.
“I had no idea you were so good with kids,” Sasha says as we step inside.
I kick the door shut behind us with a tired sigh. “They’re not so different from drunk adults,” I joke, heading to the fridge. “Want a glass of wine?”
“God, yes.” Flopping onto the couch, she tilts her head back against the cushions, kicks off her shoes and groans. “My whole body is killing me. Especially my thighs. I haven’t ridden in so long.”
I grab two glasses and a bottle of wine, trying not to think about how much I want her thighs bracketing my head as I take a seat next to her on the couch.
Pouring us each a glass, I sit back with a heavy, thankful sigh. “You know… There’s a hot tub out back. I think we should take advantage of it. It’ll help with the soreness.”
She rolls her head to look at me and grins. “Let’s do it.”