Page 110 of Bucked Hard

My guilt is only fueled more by our age difference. He’s old enough to be my father. That should be a deterrent, right?

Wrong.

“You gonna take some pictures then?” He looks confused, and I realize I’ve been standing with my phone in my hand just looking at him. I don’t know how long. Lost in this lust fog, it could have been an hour for all I know.

“The creek. I’d like you to stand over there, maybe.” I point to a spot between the bank of the creek and the horses in the background.

“You want me in the picture.” It’s a statement, and I nod, still unable to hold back the near-permanent smile he teases from my face as he walks over to where I’m pointing.

“Right there.” I wave my hand for him to stop. “Perfect.”

God, he is truly so perfect.

The lighting is amazing, shining through the trees and casting golden streaks across his dark denim shirt and exposed chest, silvering the mist and glinting off the swell of the creek. I click off about ten pictures before lowering my phone and checking each one.

I put two fingers on the screen, pulling the photo so it’s zoomed in on Garrett’s face.

God, once people see him, this ranch is going to be filled with every lonely woman with a cowboy fantasy.

“Good?” he shouts, and I hold up a hand, my index finger to the sky as I look down at my phone, backing up to find the next good shot. My fingers tap the screen again, moving the photo, zooming in on…

…he’s got a hard-on.

An enormous.

Crazy big.

Massive.

Erection.

I can’t tear my eyes from the screen as I back up a few more steps, lost in the sight and size of what I see.

“Mary Beth?” Garrett’s voice mixes with the roaring creek.

“Yep! That’s good.” I don’t even look up. Two more steps back, my eyes still locked onto the phone screen.

I never gave much thought to that saying; hung like a horse. Until now.

The next moment, my left foot slips.

I list to the right. Then to the left.

My balance is lost.

“Hey, watch out.” I hear Garrett’s voice, but it’s too late.

“Oh shit!” Is my only reply before the inevitable conclusion of my misstep. I see the headline now,Mary Beth Lassiter, up and coming travel journalist, lost in mountain creek after being blinded by cowboy dick.

My phone flies up in the air as I flail, trying to keep gravity at bay.

I lose.

The creek wins.

When I hit the cold water, I choke out a half-laugh with the shock and absurdity. Drenched and flapping in the freezing water until I realize…

The current isstrong.

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