Chapter 23 #2
“A hook-up only situation that benefits us both,” I say, giving him the satisfaction.
My voice stays steady even though my heart is doing the kind of gallop only he seems to cause lately.
“I already got burned once, Trouble, and I’m not letting that happen again.
And you—” I pause, meeting his gaze head-on.
“You don’t want a relationship. That’s clear… so you can’t hurt me.”
I wait for the flicker of denial. I get nothing.
“Plus, I know you won’t tell anyone because you don’t want Knox to find out.”
I know the weight it holds to mention Knox. Trouble values their friendship more than most things—that loyalty is part of what draws me in, even though it makes this proposition riskier than it should be.
For a beat, neither of us moves. The fire crackles. Stars keep their distance. And for the first time in a long time, there’s nothing to hide behind.
“I know you’re not that kinda girl, and I’m not the guy you want for this,” he finally says. His tone is casual. He hasn’t shifted from where he’s leaning against the truck, hands tucked in his pockets.
“Alright, then.” I slide toward the edge of the tailgate, my pride louder than the voice in my head screaming stay. I’m not about to beg any man to be my summer fling. “I’ll just go find another cowboy who will.”
My foot almost hits the ground—until Trouble’s large hand grabs my wrist.
Before I can blink, he steps in, slotting himself between my knees, forcing me back onto the metal. Suddenly he’s everywhere. I’m boxed in around his long arms, broad shoulders hover above me, the scent of leather and his cologne fills my lungs until I can’t think straight.
“Try it,” he dares, knowing I can’t get past him. His gaze pins me, hot and unrelenting, like he’s warning me to even look in the direction of another cowboy.
I tip my chin, refusing to look away. “Maybe I will.”
His mouth curves, dangerous. “No, you won’t.”
“Give me a reason not to," I throw back, heat rising in my chest.
“Why do you gotta be so damn stubborn?”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not. We either do this or we don’t. Your choice.”
His jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he studies me. “I’ll do it if you know what you’re gettin’ into.” He leans in closer, voice low and rough. “If you say you only want some casual hookup, I’ll play that game. But don’t fool yourself into thinkin’ you won’t end up wantin’ more.”
I scoff, though my pulse stutters. “You do casual hookups all the time. Why couldn’t I?”
A crooked grin pulls at his mouth, but there’s something more serious beneath it. “Maybe I’m over those.”
My brows shoot up. “Wait. Is the big, bad cowboy finally admitting he wants a relationship?”
He growls playfully, eyes narrowing. “I don’t recall sayin’ all that.”
I grin, poking at him. “What are you saying? That you want me to be your girlfriend? That’s adorable.”
Then he hooks an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Watch that pretty mouth of yours. That word’s off-limits.”
Before I can sass him back, his fingers dig into my side, tickling until I squeal, shoving at his chest. We wrestle back and forth in playful chaos, snickering until my lungs burn with breathless giggles, until suddenly it quiets. His forehead brushes mine, his breath hot against my lips.
“I wanna do this,” I whisper, my voice trembling with certainty. “And I wanna do it with you.”
He closes the last inch between us, and our mouths crash together on the back of his tailgate, the whole world falling away.
He breaks away, lips grazing my cheek as he murmurs, “You can have whatever you want.” His fingers tighten at my waist, a subtle claim of a squeeze that sends a shiver racing through me.
I asked for Trouble, and here he is—all six-plus feet of denim, boots, and a drawl that could ruin me.
“You’ll do whatever I want?” My voice comes out softer than I mean it to, shaky from the way he’s looking at me.
“Whatever you want,” he repeats. Then the corner of his mouth kicks up. “Don’t tell me you’re fixin’ to cash in on that little idea of yours tonight?”
I give a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t have much time left.”
My feet are dangling off the edge of the tailgate. He hovers over me, his breath skimming the shell of my ear, sending goosebumps racing down my neck. “Then pull that pretty little skirt up for me.”
I hesitate for a second, glancing around at the firepit, at the shadows of people scattered, their laughter and voices muffled by the darkness. “Here?”
“It’s dark. They can’t see you.”
My pulse is racing, but I do as he says.
I slide my skirt up slowly, revealing my neon pink panties to him like I'm just begging to get caught.
“Fuck,” he says. His eyes darken, and he doesn’t waste a second.
His fingers catch my chin and tilt it up so he can kiss me.
It’s not soft, not sweet or gentle. It’s all possessive and demanding, and I melt into him, my hands gripping the edge of the tailgate for support.
His tongue brushes mine, claiming me in a way that makes my skin flush hot and my core clench with need.
He moves to my neck, his lips trailing down to the hollow of my throat slowly, like he’s teasing himself with the taste of me. I can’t help it—a tiny whimper escapes me, and I feel his smirk against my throat, the arrogant bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
His teeth graze me, sharp and fleeting, and I swear I can feel the ache of his bite echoing between my legs.
My head falls back, my hands clawing at whatever I can reach.
He’s moving lower now, his mouth a fucking branding iron everywhere he kisses, bites, and sucks until I’m a mess of shivers and gasps.
And then he’s at my tits. His oversized hands slide the low-cut fabric down, exposing my aching nipples to the dark night. My skin prickles, and my nipples harden into tight little peaks, screaming for his mouth. He doesn’t waste time. His lips close around one, and fuck, it’s too much.
“Has anyone… ever told you—” he breathes, his tongue swirls, hot and slick as he continues. “—how damn perfect you are?”
A shaky laugh slips out of me. “Actually… no.” My head tips back as his mouth finds my other nipple. “You’re the first.”
“Then they’ve all been blind,” he growls, lips moving against my skin, each word broken by another kiss.
I can’t fucking think, can’t breathe. All I know is his mouth, his hands, the way he’s taking control has my thighs trembling, my body desperate for more.
His hand slides down my body, over the curve of my hip, down to my thigh, and then into where I want him, fingers gently brushing against the damp fabric of my panties.
“Damn, you’re so goddamn wet,” he says, and I can’t help but arch into him, my body begging for more.
His fingers hook into my panties, pulling them to the side, and then he’s touching me, his fingers sliding through my slickness, teasing my clit in slow circles that make my toes curl.
“Mm.” I grab his bicep, feeling the solid muscle flex as he continues. He pulls back just enough for his eyes to find mine, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “There’s somethin’ you oughta know about us cowboys,” he drawls. “We eat every meal like it's our last.”
My eyes are barely open, but I tug him lower, aching for him to prove every word. “You askin’ for permission?”
My first mustache ride? Consider me already on the waiting list for a season pass.
“No, darlin’. I don’t ask. I take what I want,” he drawls darkly. “Now keep your eyes open. Stay on the lookout. You’re gonna have to keep quiet for me when I eat you front to back. Think you can do that?”
I nod, and he doesn’t wait for more. He drops to his knees, his lips find the inside of my thigh, his mouth burns into my skin even after he pulls away. His fingers hook into the thin lace of my panties, and with one sharp twist, he rips them apart like they’re fucking tissue paper.
The look he gives me is pure fire, and I know I’m fucked. A goner. Go ahead and start engraving my tombstone: “Here lies Sawyer. Flatlined by pleasure, revived briefly, begged for more with dying words.”
Then his mouth is on me—hot, wet, fucking relentless.
His tongue drags through every inch, teasing, tasting, and I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.
He licks, sucks, nips me from front to back, just like he said.
I’m shaking, my hips rocking against his mouth, my hands gripping his hair so hard my knuckles turn white.
“That feels so good…”
When he traces circles on my clit, then clamps down and sucks, my vision blurs.
It’s fucking over. Boom. No warning, no buildup—just a fucking explosion that rips through me so hard I nearly scream.
My orgasm crashes in waves, ruthless and unwavering, and I’m pulsating against his tongue, clenching desperately, my juices soaking his greedy mouth.
I feel his fucking grin against my skin, completely self-satisfied, like he’s proud of how quickly he wrecked me. “Nah,” he growls, his voice low and rough, vibrating against my sensitive flesh. “Give me one more.”
And hell yes, because I don’t want this to end. I’m desperate in this fucking delirium for more. My fingers slide down my stomach, until I find his hand to put him between my thighs. I’m spreading my legs wider, showing him I want more.