Page 43 of Wild Horses

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

laramie

I wake to the warm press of a naked body against my back and the firm grip of a large hand on my boob.War.Grinning in the still-dark room, I disentangle myself from his arms and pad into the bathroom.

Clicking the door closed behind me, I take care of business, then stop and check myself out. My hair is a sex-swept mess, and pink mouth-shaped bruises mark the column of my neck. Darker smudges—fingerprints—decorate my hips. I look well-fucked and well-loved.

Pink warms my cheeks as I think about what went on between us. I’m not usually one to give up control in the bedroom, but ceding to War was freeing. Being in the moment, focusing on every ounce of pleasure he wrested from my body. It’s something I’ll do over and over with him. For him.

While his bossy side was incredibly sexy, what drove it was even more so. Beneath the physical was the need for me to affirm that this thing between us is real—that I want him for more than a night.And, god, I do.

Shame spasms in my stomach. I royally fucked up when Ileft him at The Rusty Spur. Good thing the universe granted me a second chance to show him how sorry I am.

“Laramie?” There’s a thread of unease in War’s voice as it sounds outside the closed door. Can’t have that. Swinging it open, I jump into his arms, catching him off-guard. He lets out anoomphand attempts to keep us upright but fails, and we crash to the bed, flopping like a pair of decked fish.

Through a series of twists, rolls, and giggles, we end up with me sitting astride him, my legs splayed on either side of his hips.

With a quick swoop, I plant a kiss on his lips. “Morning.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear then brushes his knuckles up and down my cheek. “You stayed.”

“I promised I would.” A raw ache pinches in my chest. I hate that those are his first words to me this morning, but it’s another reminder of how much I hurt him. I cradle the hand still resting against my cheek, bringing it to my lips and kissing the center of his palm.

War’s cock kicks to life beneath me, his body’s physical response to my touch. When I grind my bare pussy down on his lap, his eyes flutter, and he lets out a needy moan. “Last night was—shit, I’m not sure I have the vocabulary to describe it.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is fan-fucking-tastic.” At his rough laugh, I grin and toss my hair. “You did a decent job being in charge, Pretty Boy, but I can’t wait for it to be my turn to show you how it’s done.”

He smirks and bucks his hips, the hard line of his cock rocking against me. “I think the four orgasms I wrecked you with were more than decent.”

“Three and a half; the last one was a residual effect from the toy.”

“You’re going to put me in an early grave with all this bickering.”

I snort and glide my pussy up and down his length, loving the way it jerks against me as if it has a mind of its own. “You love it.”

War’s hands grip me so I can’t wiggle. All the playfulness melts from his features. His lips press into a firm line, and his honey gaze sears me. “I do.”

It’s only two words, but their weight knocks the air from my lungs. Before I can think, let alone respond, he pulls me flush to his chest and captures my lips. His tongue takes advantage of my shock to swirl with mine, and he palms my ass. I’m pressed against him and let the power of his touch roll over me.

When he moans, I snap back to my senses, giving as good as I get, sucking on his tongue, tracing inside his lips. I’m practically pulsating for him, ready to demand he fuck me when he eases up, switching to chaste pecks at the corners of my mouth and along my jaw.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Our mouths are so close that each word is a puff against my lips. We stay that way, each of us breathing the other’s air, heady waves of something far more substantial thanlikecrashing over me.

War nuzzles his nose against mine. “Come to Trail Creek with me.”

I swear my eyebrows jump to my hairline, and I sit up, scouring his face for any hint he’s teasing. A thousand reasonable reasons to say no run through my head. It’s too soon. The guys I dated in the past couldn’t handle my independence. I travel over half the year.

But then I think of last night. How right it feels to be with War. “Are you serious?”

“Laramie, I just got you back. I want to be where you are, orI want you where I am. And since you won’t be staying here…” He glances at me as if worried his reminder of my failed ride will derail the conversation.

“Go on,” I whisper.

“I don’t know how long you have until Pueblo, but I looked, and it’s about three and a half hours from Trail Creek.”

It’s not that I don’t want to go. I do. Every fiber of my being wants more time with him. A chance to see where he’s living now, find out more about what happened after I left Dallas, explore his skin with my tongue. And my twin devils are cheering me on, hollering for me to sprint head first down this hill that leads to War. But… “Is there somewhere I could board X?” Not even my shoulder demons—or desire for this man—can override the sense of responsibility I have for my girl.

“I’m not sure…” He frowns, deep in thought. “I can ask Tuesday. Between her friends, they know everyone in town. If there’s a place that boards large animals, one of them will know.”

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