Page 108 of Dirty Cowboy

When I return, I find her curled up in the shadows of dancing flames. She looks up as I hand her a glass of water.

“I want to do that again,” she hums.

I lower to the blankets and she snuggles into my side.

“I promise, you’ll come again before the night is over.”

Her laughter, light and melodic, wraps around me like a balm. The firelight dances in her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, the world feels perfect. It’s just her and me, cocooned in the glow of our growing love.

Iwake slowly, cocooned in Eric’s warmth. The fire has burned down to soft embers, and the first streaks of morning light slip through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Eric’s body is pressed against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his hand resting just below my ribs. The steady rise and fall of his breath against my back sends a shiver down my spine, and I sink deeper into the comfort of him.

For the first time since I left New York, peace settles into my bones. The kind that isn’t fleeting. The kind that feels like home.

Eric Waters is finally mine.

His touch, his warmth, the way he holds me, even in sleep, makes every second of waiting feel worthwhile.

Somewhere upstairs, his phone rings. I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore it. Not now. Not when I have him like this. But he stirs behind me, muscles flexing against my back as he exhales a groggy sigh.

“Let it go to voicemail,” I murmur, pressing myself closer. “It’s too early for phone calls.”

His whiskey-brown eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep. A lazy, satisfied smile tugs at his lips as he tightens his hold around my waist. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Before I can answer, he brushes a kiss over my lips. It’s soft and teasing, just enough to make me want more.

"Good morning," I whisper against his mouth, stealing another kiss.

“How’s your foot?” he asks, his voice slightly husky.

This time, my phone rings upstairs. I tense, a flicker of guilt rising, but I push it down.

Dad’s been stable. If it were truly urgent, they’d call twice—or leave a message. I just need five more minutes. Five more minutes of warmth, of skin on skin, of pretending the world doesn’t exist.

I wiggle my toes and smile. “Still hurts a bit, but it’s much better.”

He stretches beside me, a deep, contented groan vibrating from his chest. The blanket slips lower, revealing smooth, golden skin and the hard-cut muscles I spent last night mapping with my hands. My eyes wander down between us, and I catch the sight of his morning wood. I raise an eyebrow, my grin turning wicked.

Eric follows my line of sight, and his mouth curves up. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

“Is that even a question?” I bite my lip, slipping beneath him. He hovers above me, the soft weight of his body pressing me deeper into the blankets. My pulse pounds, heat pooling between my thighs. "Is it for me?"

His grin darkens, voice low and rough. “Always for you.”

His fingers slip beneath the blankets, skimming over my bare skin, tracing the curves of my body like he’s relearning every inch of me. I shiver as he cups my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, teasing until it hardens beneath his touch.

“Eric,” I breathe, my hands clutching at his shoulders as my hips rock up against him, instinctive and needy.

His mouth finds mine. He steals my breath with a slow, intoxicating kiss as he lines himself up and slowly slides inside me. I dig my fingers into his back as he fills me. The sensation’s overwhelming, just like last night. He starts slowly, but as I meet him thrust for thrust, my inner walls squeezing around him, the pressure intensifies. Pleasure builds, quickly spiralling out of control. His whiskey eyes lock onto mine as he moves in and out, deeper and more intense. He switches the angle and hits my sweet spot.

“Eric, oh God,” I gasp, arching beneath him, “I’m gonna come?—”

“Do it, Emma,” he growls. “Come for me, my darling.”

My orgasm shatters through my limbs and I shake in his hold, but when he tries to withdraw, I whisper. “We’re not finished.”

I wrap my legs tighter around his hips, allowing him to bury himself deep within me. He pushes harder this morning, and a few thrust in, he releases a groan that echoes in the dim room. We lay tangled underneath the blankets, slowly catching our breaths. He brushes my hair away from my face, his lips trailing soft kisses along my temple and jaw.

“Shower?” I ask.

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