Page 53 of Holding The Reins

“Shoot.”

“Was that what you were going to do tonight? Hook up with Shelby?”

“Yes,” he admits, and I feel my heart drop into my feet.

But I know this about him. This shouldn’t surprise me.

“But I wasn’t… feeling it. I told her I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Then I saw you out there and the date was all but over.”

I skim my hand over my squeaky-clean hair and turn around to face him as he begins to wash himself. Water trails his muscled torso like even it can’t help but cling to him. Soap suds…body…glistening. God, I’m already dying for his touch again.

“How long for you?” he asks, interrupting my pornographic daydream.

I half snort the answer. “I don’t even remember. The past year, I’ve never felt safe with Andrew. I mean, I’ve been on the pill since college but I knew he was being unfaithful. I had myself checked out to make sure I was clean when I proved he was cheating on me—after my dad died—and then I started making my plan to come home.” I look down. “I don’t want to talk about Andrew while I’m in the shower with you, do you?”

“Fuck no.” He scoops me up and kisses me on the lips. “I only have six and a half hours left, and I want to make you come at least three more times tonight.”

“Is that so? I have to work tomorrow, you know.”

He runs his nose along my neck and follows it with his tongue. Every thought I have leaves my mind.

“You can’t call in sick. Your boss is too strict.”

“Ugh, he’s such a hard ass,” I say just as the water starts to run cold over us and I shudder.

“Hot water still doesn’t last long here,” he observes the obvious, shutting it off and wrapping us both in towels.

“Old cabin problems,” I say as I dry my hair and body with the towel as best I can.

He follows me back to my bedroom.

“Just as well, we need your disgustingly large stash of condoms.”

“Shut up.” I swat at him.

“At least I know where to send the whole county if the stores run out,” he snickers, wrapping his towel low around his waist and running a hand through his hair, pushing it back off his face.

Innate desire rushes over me with this view. I walk to him and stand before him. Looking up at him, I reach my hand up and press it to his face. His large jaw is too big for my small hand but he turns his face to it and kisses my palm. I reach between my breasts and unhook my towel. It drops to the wood floor. I stand naked before him and wait as he registers the vision in front of him. He trails a finger over my shoulder.

“Where do you want me, Mr. Carter?” I smirk.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Rae,” he rasps.

I use my free hand to press my palm to his already hardened cock through the slip in the towel and he groans as he devours me with his lips and pulls my body to his as if my touch has lit a fire in him. Nash snatches his towel off between us, and suddenly we’re a clash of warm, naked skin. Droplets of water still trickle down my back, he smears them into my skin as he kisses me, his tongue searching every corner of my mouth. He pulls my bottom lip into his teeth and bites it, enough to make me moan with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“On your knees is where I want you. I want to see these pretty lips around my cock, CeCe.”

My brain tells me to protest his controlling tone, but my traitorous pussy forces me to do exactly as he wants. He takes his cock into his hand and strokes himself a few times before tapping it on my lips. This sight alone, combined with his clean warm skin on my lips makes my mouth water.

“Open up, stick out your tongue, and show me where you want my cock,” he commands, and I do. What even is feminism when I’m naked with Nash Carter? Just his filthy words alone have such an effect on me. They’re like foreplay on their own.

He drops his cock on my tongue, and I take over immediately. I lick a hot trail from his base all the way to his tip then attempt to take him as deeply as possible into my throat.

He’s much too big, but he’s about to find out I simply don’t have a gag reflex. Never have. He hits the back of my throat and I open wider and look up at him through my lashes.

He sucks in a breath and mutters, “Fuck, CeCe, fuck.”

As I pull him in, almost swallowing him down, tears well up in my eyes as he continues fucking my mouth, gripping my hair tightly at the roots.

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