Page 16 of The Oath We Take

Maybe Mercury goes into retrograde or something.

Or hell freezes over.

But it’s my final thought before Atom closes what is left of the gap between the two of us and kisses me. His lips are firm against mine. The kiss veers angry. I can’t decide if I’m punishing him or I’m the one being punished. Like a horse that’s been spooked, I find myself kissing him back at an unrelenting pace.

When his tongue brushes mine, it’s unlike any kiss I’ve ever experienced before. It consumes me.

My body comes alive as though I’ve been plugged into a power socket. It’s a feeling I’ve sought all my life. And I found it in my first ever kiss with Hudson.

I drop the helmet I was holding as his hands cup my cheeks and his long fingers slide into my hair. I can’t breathe as I fall into whatever this is, unable to rip myself away, even as I know it’s nothing more than an illusion.

“Em,” he murmurs against my lips, and there’s a softness to it that cracks through the recklessness of this. It brings a sob to my throat I can’t escape.

Firmly, I shove my hands against his chest. “How dare you kiss me?”

I can’t say it was not consensual. I met him halfway. But now that the proverbial cold water has been thrown over the two of us, I can see the shock on his face and feel the blast of shame on my own.

“You didn’t want me back then,” I say. “So, you can’t have me now.”

I snatch up my helmet, grab Lemmy’s reins, and lead him out of his stall toward the stable exit.

“Ember. That’s not what it was, and you know it.”

I turn on my heel and glare at him. “You finally ready to step up and claim me?”

I see his confusion, which matches my own churned-up emotions. It’s etched in the lines around his eyes and the stiff set of his jaw.

He removes his Stetson, runs his hand through his hair, then replaces it before looking at me again.

And I don’t need words when the answer is written on his face.

5

ATOM

Water stings my skin as the shower rains down on me at full pressure. I’m half awake, half hungover, and exceptionally hard.

I squeeze my cock as I glide my hand up and down its length. Sleep has been hard to come by. The dreams that plague me are vivid and intense and horny as fuck, and they revolve around the same person.

Ember.

It all stems from that kiss in the stables three days ago.

Every night since, I’ve dreamed about the way her lips pillowed mine, the addictive taste of her, and the sweet heat of her body.

One minute, she was standing there, spitting fire, and the next…

My brain completely disengaged. All the years of pent-up longing and wanting tumbled through the barriers I’d built like a rockfall. Nothing could stop me from throwing her down on a blanket in one of the stalls, stripping her naked, and making sure she couldn’t shout at me anymore because of all the orgasms I was gonna coax from her.

If she hadn’t brought us to our senses, I would have been deep inside what I’m sure is the most perfect pussy this side of the Rockies.

The thought of it, the visual of my ass jackhammering into her, is enough to bring me a step closer to what I need: a release before I get on my bike in hot weather, wearing denim.

“Damn, Em,” I curse.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear there was some kind of witchcraft involved. Because a man doesn’t manage to park a woman from his mind for five years, then suddenly ruin all his hard work and efforts by almost fucking his president’s daughter on the stable floor.

I stroke harder, focusing on the head, knowing it’s the most sensitive part and a guaranteed route to get me from daydreaming about Ember to pouring out what I want to pump into her down the drain.

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