Page 181 of Can't Always Get What You Want

Then the bull jerks to the left, jolting me.

I lurch. My spine does something unnatural. My knees scream for mercy.

“Use your core!” Gio yells.

What core?! I’m a hockey player, not a goddamn gymnast!

The bull bucks me into a full-body convulsion like it’s trying to throw me into another ZIP code. I feel my soul leave my body. My new hat flies off.

Nova is a blur but from the corner of my eye, I see her howl with laughter. Poppy is doubled over.

I lose a leg—figuratively and possibly literally—suddenly airborne. There’s a brief moment where I believe I’m floating. Graceful. Weightless.

Then I hit the mat with the grace of a two-hundred and nine pound ham.

Flat on my back, I stare up at the string of twinkling lights as thunderous applause erupts.

I raise my head. “Yeah, yeah.”

My girlfriend and her bestie are crying—literally crying tears of mirth, hysterically bent over, holding onto one another for support.

I’ve never loved her more. Or hated a mechanical animal with such burning intensity.

“You lasted eight seconds.” Nova appears above me like an angel, wiping the tears still running down her beautiful face.

“Bullshit.” I grope around, feeling for my hat. “That wasat leastten.”

“Sure, babe,” she coos, kissing my cheek. “It was ten seconds.”

40

nova

There’s a condom machine bolted to the wall next to a sign that says “Y’all cum back now, ya hear?” in cracked vinyl lettering, and for some reason, it feels aggressively directed at me.

Door locked.

Skirt up.

Hands against the wall.

I’m bent over in the women’s bathroom as Luca pounds into me, hands squeezing my tits through my dress, his nose buried in my neck.

He moans as my pussy clenches around him, the low thrum of the music pumping through my veins as his dick thrusts.

I whimper, leaning farther forward to reposition myself when I feel him slipping out.

Then.

When it’s clear that we can’t get the right position, his hands skim my thighs, gripping tight before lifting me onto the edge of the counter with surprising ease. I gasp, startled by the chill of the surface and the way his eyes go darker, hungrier, when he steps between my knees again.

He cups my face in both hands like I’m something fragile—then kisses me like he absolutely knows I’m not.

We're both flushed, tipsy, and wildly off-balance—laughing one second, breathless the next.

Luca reenters me, dazed.

“I love you so fucking much,” I moan as he fucks me, his pelvis knocking into the counter at the same time he pumps, causing the wooden perch to thump against the wall.

---