Page 27 of His Cowboy Heart

I ran away from home.

I still couldn’t get his words from the day before out of my head. What had he meant? He was obviously old enough to be on his own, so what did that leave? An abusive ex? A gambling or substance abuse problem? Or just life in general?

Nothing had gone as planned the day before. Not from the moment I’d overheard Jules talking to Brooks about meeting some guy on a layover in Casper. I’d wanted to stride into the kitchen at that very moment, but then Jules had started mentioning toys and cuffs, and all kinds of images had started forming in my head. I’d never been into BDSM, but I could definitely get on board with the idea of tying Jules up and taking him to the edge of climax over and over again until he was pleading with me for relief.

“Good job,” I muttered under my breath. My steel rod of a cock was responding to all the mental images, and I doubted there’d be any image that I could use to get my mind off what being inside of Jules would feel like.

“Do you need a hand with something?” Jules asked softly. His eyes were shut but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve only got one good one at the moment, but I’m sure I can figure out how to make it work?—”

I covered his mouth with mine before he could finish his offer because I really,reallywanted to take him up on it. My brain was trying to command my voice to speak while my cock was screaming in demand, especially when Jules rolled me to my back before getting on top of me. “Your arm,” I hissed just as his dick brushed over mine.

“Is fine,” Jules moaned a second before rolling his hips forward, making his dick slide along mine. His tongue slid deliciously along mine every time he ground his pelvis against me. I kissed him back and wrapped my arms around him, but Jules was clearly in control. I wondered if he even realized it.

Everything we’d said and done from the moment I’d walked into that kitchen to grab one of the heavy pots of stew had been a roller coaster of words, emotions, and physical contact. I still couldn’t remember how we’d gotten to this point. I’d had no plan to end up on this bed with him, I definitely hadn’t had any intention of showing Jules the ragged scar on my chest, and to top it all off, I’d gone and basically told the younger man that I wasn’t exactly who I wanted people to believe I was.

“Jules,” I groaned in a half-hearted attempt to get his attention. I had my eyes closed because I wanted to experience every sensation as Jules took care of me. His mouth and touch were gentle as they explored my chest, specifically the scar. I hadn’t thought to button my shirt back up, so Jules had complete access to my upper body.

My lower body was being tortured in a whole different way by Jules’s hand, the one from his uninjured arm. He ran the palm of his hand along the length of my erection. Between that and his mouth’s southern migration, I knew what he was planning. I wanted to stop him. Ineededto stop him.

And yet I couldn’t.

The pleasure, the intoxication of it all—it’d been a long time since I’d felt even a hint of that, but I hadn’t really missed it.

That had changed from the first time I’d kissed Jules. I hadn’t known a single thing about him—including that he had been, in fact, ahim—but it hadn’t mattered. Our chemistry was off the charts, and being away from him was as painful as being near him was.

“Jules,” I managed to grind out when Jules began to fumble with my belt buckle. I swore I heard him let out a muffled curse, but with the sound of my own heart beating between my ears and the inability to breathe in anything but short snaps of air, panic began to drown everything out.

Including Jules.

My chest ached and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. All my pulse points were throbbing as blood raced through my veins.

It was the sound of a zipper being drawn down that woke me up. “Jules, you have to stop,” I hissed. Hungry fingers skimmed over my hard flesh. My back involuntarily arched at the electricity that ripped through me. The pleasure was so profound that I opened my eyes so that I could watch Jules as he worked his magic on me.

Only instead of Jules, I saw the harsh overhead lighting and white ceiling. There were voices everywhere. Some far away, some closer. I didn’t know any of them. I felt sick to my stomach as my body was moved repeatedly and strange hands touched me everywhere. It was the familiar and much hated beeping sound that finally got me moving.

I sat up so abruptly that Jules nearly fell off the bed. I managed to catch his arm, but unfortunately it was the bad one. I may have stopped Jules from hitting the floor, but the string of curse words intertwined with harsh breaths was proof that I hadn’t prevented the younger man any pain.

I wanted to tend to him, I really did. I wanted to explain, too. But I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. I remembered my zipper before I rushed from the room, but just barely. Cool air hit my lungs, but it hurt like hell trying to pull enough of it into my starved lungs. My legs felt weak and my entire body was shaking, but thankfully, my pounding heart began to slow. Unfortunately, it and the rest of my faculties weren’t in any kind of position to speak when Jules exited the room. He was once again cradling his injured arm. If the situation had been anything other than what it was, I would have taken the time to enjoy Jules’s mussed hair where my fingers had trailed through it as he’d worked his way down my body. I would have teased him about the pink staining his cheeks.

Except it wasn’t something to tease about. Because Jules’s blank expression and inability to look at me, along with the color on his cheeks, wasn’t leftover arousal.

It was pain.

And probably a heavy dose of humiliation.

“Jules—” I choked.

“It’s okay, Flynn. We’ve both had a long day and they’ll be missing us if we don’t get back to the ranch soon.” Jules got close enough to me to pluck the car keys from my pocket. I was sure he was going to make a dash for the SUV and ditch me, but instead he said, “Stay here. I’ll bring the car to you.”

My breathing was only now starting to even out, so by the time I had enough air in my lungs to try and explain, Jules was gone. True to form, he kept his word and pulled the SUV up to the curb. I felt physically weak and mentally drained, so it seemed to take forever to get myself in the passenger seat and buckled in. Jules remained silent the entire time.

He never looked at me once.

“Jules—” I began in hopes of finding a way to explain my harsh reaction, but I didn’t make it to the “it’s not you, it’s me” part before Jules cut me off with one simple word.

Don’t.

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