Page 57 of Rewrite Our Story

I hadn’t bothered with putting on anything underneath, giving him a full view of my breasts. They feel heavy, aching to feel his touch. Air hisses from between his teeth as he lets out a rush of air. “Goddamnit, Goldie,” he marvels, lifting me by the hips and setting me on top of a saddle stand. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growls.

I moan when he reaches up to palm my breast. I’ve ached to feel his touch against me. I’ve touched myself so many nights with thoughts of him. I’d never forgotten the feel of his callouses against me. The rough skin of his fingertips glide across my nipple. My back arches as I grab the hem of his shirt. He backs away from me for a second, only long enough to let me pull it off him.

Cade Jennings was part of every single one of my fantasies at nineteen.

But now…I have no words to describe how immaculate his body has filled out. He was defined and sculpted the first time I got to touch him however I pleased. But now he’s so much more of a man. His muscles are bigger, the veins running down his arms are thick as his muscles strain.

Cade steps back between my legs, pulling me until we’re chest to chest.

“You don’t just have to look at me,” he says, his voice low. Even the huskiness in his voice somehow caresses the most intimate parts of me. This man has such a hold on me. Always has, always will. “Don’t just stare at me…if you like what you see, touch me.”

My fingers tentatively reach between us, feeling the hardness of his chest. His muscles tighten underneath my touch. I let my hand drift down, marveling at the hard, sculpted, ridges of his stomach. It seems that all the work on the ranch over the years has done him well.

When my fingers play with the waistband of his jeans, he sucks in a breath. “Oh no.” He clicks his tongue. “My turn first,” he demands.

Cade takes me by surprise by leaning forward and taking my hardened nipple in his mouth. My back arches as his hands steady my hips.

We shouldn’t be doing this where anybody could catch us. Hell, a customer could walk in—or worse, Pippa. It doesn’t stop either of us. If he’s aware of how risky it is for us to be in this position, he doesn’t seem to care. He spins his tongue around my nipple with expert precision, making my clit throb with desire.

His teeth graze my sensitive nipple. He smirks, his mouth still partially around my flesh when I let out a loud moan.

“I missed how reactive you are to every touch,” he mutters against my skin. He bites slightly harder, licking away the slight twinge of pain. “With every bite, suck, thrust…your body doesn’t hide how needy it is for me.”

This causes another moan from my lips. God. No one would know quiet, broody Cade would say such filthy things with so much confidence.

His hands grab the top of the tennis skirt I’d slipped on, pulling at the fabric. “It’s time I taste you—devour that pretty pussy of yours.”

I nod in encouragement, hot and needy for him. I know this is wrong. I’m all too aware of all the baggage he and I share. There’s so much we need to work out, but I can’t say no to him. I can’t say no to feeling him like this.

I’ve ached for his touch for years, touching myself so many lonely nights at the memory of him. Now I need to be reminded of how it really feels. I want to remember what it’s like to be owned by him.

I reach behind me, holding on to the edge of the saddle to keep myself steady as he yanks at the fabric at my waist. I lift my hips, allowing him to pull the fabric off.

He rips my panties at both sides, stripping me until I’m only wearing a pair of cowgirl boots.

Cade’s hands are warm as he pushes my thighs open. I rest my feet on the edges of other saddle stands, baring myself to him.

I could come at the sight of him licking his lips, his gaze is scorching as he watches me in anticipation.

“Your cunt is so fucking wet for me, Goldie,” he states casually, like his words are part of everyday conversation and not ones that have my thighs quivering. “It’s dripping,beggingto be worshiped by me.”

I moan, my head falling backward with pleasure. “Oh, god.”

“Cade,” he corrects. “That’s what you’ll be screaming by the time I’m done with you.”

“Cade,” I repeat, my tone coming out as a beg. “Please,” I add. I need to feel him. I need him to touch me. My breasts feel so tight and heavy by the way he looks at me hungrily. My clit throbs so painfully I’m about to slide my fingers through my wetness just to give myself some release.

“Please what?”

“Please touch me.”

He runs his fingers over the sensitive skin between my thighs, just far enough from the spot I’m so desperate for him that I know he’s trying to tease me. “Do you want me to touch you or taste you?”

His palms press into my thighs as he makes sure I keep my legs spread wide for him. He kneels to one knee and then the other, lining his mouth with my center.

“You going to answer me, Goldie?”

“Taste. Or touch. I don’t really care. I just need you.”

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