Page 26 of Death Valley

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice even lower now, gruff enough to tickle my spine. “Something must have spooked him.”

“Spooked him? It was like he was hunting me.”

He brings his fingers down slightly and pauses, giving me a look I can’t read. A haunted one.

“Does it hurt when I do this?”

“Yes.”

He swallows again, eyes flicking down. “Didn’t break the skin though. That’s good.”

“You’re worried about infection?”

“Something like that.”

The air in the barn crackles between us and it’s not lost on me that I’m still standing here, breasts in his face. From the intensity of his gaze, I don’t think it’s lost on him either.

Without thinking I reach out and grab his hand. It’s warm against my palm, his palm warm against my skin. I slowly bring his hand up and up, over my ribs then over my breast, until he’s cupping it.

His breath hitches sharply and I have to stifle a moan. I’m acting fucking crazy but given the events of the evening, perhaps this isn’t the craziest thing to happen.

It has felt kind of inevitable.

“Aubrey,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

I can only stare at him, lips parting, wanting it, wondering if he wants it too, wants it enough.

He does.

He grabs my breast, squeezing hard as his lips meet mine.

Kissing me with a rawness that feels like something unleashed, that wild horse of lust now running free. He presses me back against the wall, and I gasp into his mouth as pain meets pleasure in a dizzying mix.

“You sure about this?” he asks, voice rough, breath hot against my lips.

“Yes,” I whisper, before pulling his mouth back to mine.

With his other hand, he slides his palm over my stomach, down under the waistband of my pajama pants. His fingers graze the skin just above my panties, and I gasp against his mouth. He kisses me like he’s starved for it, like if he doesn’t devour me now, he never will. I’m breathless, dizzy from the force of it all, from the way his hand keeps inching lower, lower…

I press myself into him, urging him on with whimpers and sighs. He slips his hand beneath the fabric and then further still, until his fingers are exactly where I need them to be.

“Yes,” I moan, arching into him, losing myself completely.

I’m already wet, already aching for him. He groans against my mouth, deep and low, like something primal is being ripped out of him. His thumb brushes against my clit and I feel the world tilt, feel the barn around us disappear in a hazy cloud of sensation.

My hands are on him too, not nearly as deft but just as eager, snaking under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, the hard muscle underneath. He shudders when I touch him, and I want to memorize every reaction, every sound he makes.

“Jensen,” I gasp as he presses into me harder, rough fingers working magic, deeper and deeper. My head falls back against the wall and it’s all I can do to keep my legs from giving out entirely.

He bites down on my neck gently—thankfully not as hard as the horse—and then pulls back to look at me. His eyes are wild and dark, his pupils so blown out they’re almost black. My heart does a stupid little flip at seeing him like this—hungry and raw and mine for this moment.

“I’ve underestimated you,” he says, voice rough and ragged as he pushes his fingers deeper, searching, wanting.

“You won’t make that mistake again, will you?” I groan.

He crushes his mouth back to mine just as I come apart around him. My nails dig into his shoulders and I try not to scream because there are other people on the ranch who don’t need to know exactly what we’re doing in here.

I come so fuckinghard.

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