Page 118 of Sweet Like Whiskey

“And how long is that?” I ask shakily.

He grips my face, hold gentle. “Long as those mountains stand, I figure.”

“That’s a long damn time.”

“Mhm.”

“Longer than we’ll be alive,” I point out.

“Sounds about right.”

Fuck.

“You’re one smooth talker, you know that?”

He kisses the corner of my mouth. “Can’t say anyone’s ever accused me of that before.”

“Then they weren’t paying close enough attention.”

He snorts lightly. “Ease up.”

I groan. “Do I have to?”

“Afraid so,” he says, gripping the base of the condom as I slide off his cock. I watch him tie it off.

“We could ditch them,” I propose.

“You wanna?”

“Yes,” I say simply, desperate to feel Jackson inside me without barriers.

His lips twitch. “All right.”

“Just all right?”

“Very all right,” he amends.

I snort, a ridiculous smile on my face.

“And maybe next time,” he adds slowly, voice sly, “I could be the one on top. Show you how a real cowboy rides.”

My outrage battles with my arousal. “Youasshole,” I say, slapping his chest. “I ride just fine. But yes. Yes, let’s do that.”

He chuckles, snagging my hand. The sound quickly eases away, his eyes soft as they gaze at me. “Would you let me take you to bed now, Ashley? I’d like to kiss you for a while. Love on you.”

Fucking fuck.

“Yeah, Jack,” I answer, the only one I can give. “Take me to bed.”

He does, leading me down the hall and kissing me like he promised. My lips, my body, anywhere he can reach. We lie tangled together for a long time, until the early morning hours. I fall asleep sated, warm, and utterly content.

The next day, when the sun is high in the sky, I pack my two meager bags of belongings and walk the quarter mile back to Jackson’s house. To my home. I put my clothes in the dresser, my shoes by the door.

And the little cowboy figurine? I set that on my nightstand, right beside the bed.

Looks like I was right. I got to keep my cowboy close after all.

Chapter 28

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