Page 23 of Wrangling Nash

She groaned and didn’t respond so I slowed down my movements further.

“Fuck, Nash,” she cried again, “faster, please.”

“Say it, Jovie,” I commanded.

She sighed as I pressed in more firmly to her clit. I felt her wetness drip down my hand as she road me harder grinding back and forth, “Please Nash, I want to come. I’m wet only because of you.”

I growled, knowing she didn’t follow my instructions but wanting to reward her anyways. I picked up my speed as she road my hand eagerly, chasing her orgasm. When she finally hit her high, she cried out my name and it was worth the teasing to hear it come from such sweet lips while I felt her sex squeeze me tightly.

So fucking tight.

She lifted her head when the convulsing finished, a new fire licking behind her eyes. Suddenly, a phone started ringing from somewhere in the distance. It wasn’t loud enough to distract me from what we were doing, her fingers now fumbling for my jeans to release my cock. But as soon as it stopped, it started again and this time I was worried it might wake up Clay.

I broke away from her breast and removed her hands from my jeans. “Is that you?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.” Jovie stated, breathlessly, her eyes hooded with desire.

But when it rang a third time, I couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I don’t want it to wake Clay.”

She sighed and reached over to the couch cushion to find it but couldn’t. I turned to look too, finally retrieving it right before the name of the caller disappeared from the screen – ‘Patrick.’

That was enough to stop our momentum. I handed it to her as she looked back at me, her eyes widened.

“Is Patrick your boyfriend or something? Because this is now the second time he’s interrupted us.”

“Shit, no,” she sighed, and her eyes seemed genuine. “Patrick is my ex-boyfriend. I broke up with him before I moved down here. It was never serious.”

“Seems like he hasn’t gotten the picture.” I said, lifting her from my hips easily and sitting her next to me on the couch.

“That’s not fair, I can’t control whether he calls me or not.”

“No, you can’t, but your little phone call just reminded me why I don’t get involved with city women and their drama.”

I stood up, smoothing my jeans down and headed to the door. “Have a good day with Clay tomorrow, take care of keeping that sting clean. You don't want it getting infected.”

I opened the door to her grandfather's house and slammed it behind me a little extra hard, my cock still swollen in my jeans but the frustration and anger that was inside me was enough to outweigh the desire I had for Jovie now.

Maybe Patrick really was her ex, but no woman of mine would ever have an ex contacting her this persistently. It was a firm reminder to me that nothing should ever happen between Jovie and me.

Fucking city girls.

Chapter 19: Jovie

“I’ve been meaning to ask, what kind of name is Jovie anyway?” Clay asked as we drove through the darkness of the ranch to our destination for the day.

It was 5:30 the next morning, and after a night of tossing and turning, I finally succumbed to sleep around 2, drifting in and out of consciousness as my mind reeled with thoughts of Nash. This morning, I was physically exhausted, sexually frustrated, and mentally strained. Patrick’s untimely calls and texts only added to my growing frustration, and I decided that I needed to call him and reaffirm my position on our breakup once again.

I chuckled, “My dad was big into pop-rock music. My sister’s name is Stevie after Stevie Nicks, and I’m Jovie after Bon Jovi.”

Clay wrinkled his nose, “I don’t know who either of those people are.”

“Oh, to be young again,” I laughed. “What about you? Wylie, Nash, Clay, where did those names come from?”

“All three are famous cowboys,” Clay beamed. “My mom was from San Angelo and grew up on a ranch, too. She’d always liked hearing about the old western, cowboy stories my grandpa would tell her and knew if she had kids, they'd somehow be related.

“Guess y’all were born for the ranch life then, huh?”

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