Page 61 of Saddle and Bound

“Good morning, cowboy,” I reply, my cheeks heating. How do you act the morning after a night like that? My thoughts race, and for a moment, I feel shy under his gaze.

Alex seems to sense it. He rises slowly, approaching as though not to startle me. “Did you sleep well?” he asks, his tone softer now, full of concern.

I nod. “Yes, very well. And you?”

His smile deepens, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Never better.”

We stand there, the quiet stretching between us. The crackling of the fire and the distant birdsong are the only sounds, yet the air hums with something unspoken. Alex steps closer, his eyes searching mine, and then, as if drawn by some invisible pull, he wraps his arms around me.

The blanket falls away, but I hardly notice. His embrace is warm and steady, his chest solid against my cheek. I close my eyes, breathing him in, the familiar scent of pine and leather grounding me.

He leans back slightly, just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft. Slowly, his lips brush mine in a kiss that’s gentle, tender, and achingly sweet. It’s different from last night’s fiery passion. This kiss is slower, deeper, like a promise neither of us is ready to put into words.

When we part, his mischievous smile returns, lighting his face. “How about breakfast? I make a mean pancake.”

I laugh, grateful for the ease he brings to the moment, for the way he always knows when to break the tension. “Oh really? Is that a challenge, cowboy?” I say, mustering a playful tone to match his.

He winks. “You’ll just have to taste and see.”

Chapter 34

Alex

I move closer to the campfire, where the pancake batter is already waiting. Rosie follows me, still wrapped in her blanket, her hair delightfully messy, her cheeks flushed—perhaps from the morning chill, or maybe from something else entirely. As I pour the batter onto the sizzling pan, I can feel her gaze on me, curious and mischievous, tugging a small smile to my lips.

“You know,” she says, her tone light, her head tilted just slightly, “there’s something ironic about watching a rugged cowboy so focused on making fluffy pancakes.”

I glance over my shoulder, pretending to be offended, though the grin that curves my mouth betrays me. “Hey, princess, you already know about my golden hands.” My voice is playful, and I raise my eyebrows for effect, emphasizing the double meaning.

Her blush is immediate, and God, there’s nothing I adore more than the soft pink coloring her cheeks. She takes a step closer, her smile coy yet daring. “Maybe,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, “I need a little reminder.”

Her words ignite something deep inside me—or maybe that fire never really went out. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t have slept at all last night. She’d have woken up in my arms, my body still claiming hers, leaving no doubt that she’s mine. But I hesitate, uncertain of how much she wants, how much of me she’s ready for.

Still, one thing is clear: for me, this isn’t temporary. I don’t want it to be just one night. I don’t want it to end with this camping trip, or with the summer.

But Rosie doesn’t know that yet.

And maybe I’m not sure if she even wants it to last as much as I do.

What Iamsure of is that, right now, she wants me.

And who am I to deny my princess?

“Well then,” I say, a teasing smile tugging at my lips, “I guess these pancakes will have to wait.”

I lunge for her, and she takes a quick step back, pretending to run, but there’s no escaping me. I catch her in seconds, my hands firm yet gentle as I pull her close. Her playful laughter fades into a soft gasp as I lift her effortlessly and lay her down on the blanket beside the fire.

The morning sun filters through the trees, casting golden reflections across her skin. I kneel beside her, letting my hands glide slowly along the edge of the blanket, uncovering her body inch by inch. Her eyes meet mine—dark and heavy with desire—as my fingers find their way to her warm, pulsating skin.

Her hands clutch at my shoulders as I begin to explore her. When pleasure overtakes her, her back arches, and the sunlight spills over her face, illuminating her features in a glow that takes my breath away. The sound of her moan—soft yet intense—is a melody I could listen to forever.

My fingers keep moving, a slow, deliberate rhythm that pushes her beyond the edge, carrying her further as my heart beats in perfect unison with hers.

?

I serve the pancakes on two plates, adding a generous drizzle of maple syrup. I sit down next to Rosie, passing her plate to her. She's wearing nothing but my flannel shirt, with the most satisfied expression I've ever seen. I feel a surge of pride at that, and seeing her wrapped in my shirt, I feel something else too... but I try to ignore it. I can't think about that right now.

"I'm absolutely starving!" Rosie says, taking a bite of her pancake. Her eyes light up... Then she lets out a sound of pleasure that shatters all the walls I was trying to build and reignites all my desire for her.

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