Damian stripped out of his clothes as soon as he got into one of the frosted-glass cubicles and switched the shower to full blast. Icy cold water jetted down in the next moment, but the billionaire remained absolutely still underneath it. This would probably end up giving him pneumonia, but anything was fucking better than having to resort to jerking himself off to a measly fucking text message—-

Fuck.

As soon as he allowed himself to think about Sarah's text, an erotic and decidedly forbidden vision followed: his beautiful, outrageous Sarah, her nubile body completely bare to his sight, an impish smile curving over her lips as she met his dark gaze...just before slowly kneeling down to take his already engorged phallus into her small, lovely mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

His eyes squeezed shut as blood rushed to his head, and his hard body turned rigid for the worst possible reason. He tried to get the vision out of his mind, but his imaginary Sarah was just as stubborn as the real one. Refusing to go away, she remained on her knees while her head energetically bobbed up and down as she sucked harder and harder—-

A low growl tore out of his throat.

Fuck.

But this time, he had completely lost. He no longer gave a fuck about who would hear or know. His fingers were tightening around the swollen girth of his penis, and then he was stroking himself furiously, the jerking movements of his fist at pace with the sucking sounds his imaginary Sarah was making.

Suck. Suck. Suck. Suck. Suck.

And then he was cumming, his powerful body shuddering, as her name rolled silently down his tongue.

Sarah.

DAMIAN'S PHONE STARTEDringing as soon as he was out of the locker room, and he swore under his breath when he saw Josiah's name flash on its screen. He reluctantly answered the call, and as expected, he didn't even get a single word in with his father immediately going off on a rant.

"What the hell are you doing there? You should be here with us, your family!"

"Someone has to remain an adult," Damian mocked, "since you've opted to play hookie—-"

"Bullshit," Josiah growled.

"Careful, Father. Remember you've already been diagnosed of being hypertensive—-"

Josiah rudely cut his son off, demanding, "Do you know that she's going out for a ride with Colton today?"

Damian's grip on his phone involuntarily tightened, but his voice remained coldly indifferent when he spoke again. "I see nothing wrong with that—-"

"Keep talking like that," Josiah warned, "and you'll soon hurt her past what she can endure."

And did Josiah really think he didn't know that?

Damian threw himself at work for the rest of the morning, but by the time his PA came in to ask him about lunch, he had already risen to his feet and heard himself say, "I'm heading back to the ranch. If it isn't life and death, don't call or it's someone's job on the line."

The drive back to the family ranch from Jackson Hole usually took an hour and a half, but Damian had shaved off a good number of minutes from this by swapping the SUV he normally drove for a sports car he had revamped for off-road use.

A ranch hand saw him coming and immediately pointed towards one of the trails leading to the river bank. "I saw Ms. Clarke head that way."

Damian got out of the car with a frown. He hadn't asked a single thing yet, dammit. So why the hell was Greg assuming he was looking for Sarah?

"Shall I drive your car back to the garage, Mr. Fox?" Greg's tone was hopeful. It had just occurred to him that now was his only chance to drive the billionaire's sports car, whose rigged performance and looks had it featured in numerous automobile magazines. And to further improve his chances, he then quickly added, "If you set off now, sir, you could still probably catch up with Ms. Clarke and Mr. Moore."

AFTER GIVING RAINBOWa quick, affectionate pat on its head, Sarah left her horse to graze at its leisure while walking back to where Colton was seated by the riverbank. Tall, blond, and boyishly good-looking, he also had the fortune of possessing incredibly wealthy parents and an assured future as a NFL quarterback. While most women would've killed to be in a relationship with him, his current companion unfortunately wasn't one of them.

"You're looking prettier every time I see you, Sarah Bear." Any compliment from him was usually enough to have girls swooning on his feet, but this time it only had the girl seated a good three feet away from him rolling her eyes.

"Drop the act, Moore," Sarah retorted, "and for thenthtime, will you please stop calling me that? You know how Damian hates it—-"

"He isn't even here to hear it," Colton protested.

"It doesn't matter," Sarah said stubbornly.