Page 106 of Buckled in Barbwire

Without hesitation, I lean over and grip the waistband clinging to her rear. A strong tug hauls her up in front of me. Paisley fumbles and squirms before securing her seat. The huff she releases wants to smack me.

“Good quality jeans. Worth every penny.” I wedge a palm into her rhinestone pocket and get a grip.

“No limits,” my wife mutters while nudging Echo forward.

She lets me hold her like that while steering the mare toward the path between the pastures. I’m tempted to slip in my other hand for additional support. But in truth, it would only serve to cup a butt cheek.

The strain already pinching in my arm demands that I switch position, revealing it’s not comfortable for either of us. Instead, my fingers wrap around her hip and pull her tighter against me. We sway in tandem to Echo’s slow gait.

“What should we talk about?” My hands wander along her thighs, roaming higher to circle her middle.

Paisley twists slightly to catch my gaze. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

Laughter presses my chest flush against her. “Oh, we’re playing that game.”

“Figured it was time.”

“Gonna take turns?” We’ve been traveling along a two-way street lately, but I fucked up enough to know this could still be one-sided.

But my wife is too forgiving. “It’s only fair, husband.”

I nuzzle into the crook of her neck, scratching her with my stubble. “What’s your favorite pizza topping?”

Her hum is conflicted. “I only get one?”

“Those are the rules.”

“Since when do we have those?”

My insatiable hunger for her races upward to palm her breast. “Only when necessary.”

She gasps when I squeeze slightly. “Pepperoni.”

“Mine too.” I glide my fingers down to reclaim a more modest hold on her. We don’t have many restrictions, but screwing around on horseback is just plain dumb.

Paisley relaxes into my embrace, trusting Echo to walk straight ahead. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

“Wherever you are.”

She exhales a twinkly tune. “What a line.”

“Doesn’t make it less true.” I press a kiss to her slender throat. “If you could go back, would you stay away from me?”

“No,” she says without delay.

“You’re happy?”

“That’s two.” Her elbow bumps into my stomach. “Cheater.”

A harsh rumble rolls off me to reject the notion. “Never. You’re the only one for me, wife.”

“Do you love me?” Paisley’s voice is soft, the breeze almost carrying away the uncertain tone.

“Yes,” I exhale beside her ear.

She shivers and reclines against me. “Since when?”

“Now who isn’t playing by the rules?” But my scold is a flimsy barb. “Our honeymoon. There was magic in that cabin.”

---