Page 102 of Saddles

No one’s ever felt that way aboutmebefore.

“That’s what we’re going to be, Frosty.” He reaches down to pull the blanket over our joined bodies, then rolls his hips as he nuzzles against me. “One, from now on.”

The knock is almost so quiet I don’t hear it, but Ford startles against me, and when he rolls away, I feel the last of the barbells slip out of me.

Oh, that’s a little tender.

“April?” Sawyer’s voice is tentative through the wood. “Is everything okay?”

“Yea, we’re good,” Ford grunts, then tugs the comforter higher over me as he slides out of bed.

I can see his breath mist in the morning sun.

“We’re gonna go check the herd in a few. I topped the tank off in April’s snow machine so you guys will be all set.” The relief in Sawyer’s tone is obvious.

“I appreciate it.” Ford’s jaw tightens as Sawyer’s shadow moves away.

Roscoe pops up to dance near the stove, eager to run outside.

Ford glances at me, then cracks the door just enough for the heeler to dart out.

“I guess I should go thank them for their help pulling my head out of my ass.” His hand scratches the back of his neck and he stretches in all of his naked glory in a ray of light.

The weight of his piercings pull his cock halfway down his lean thigh. I’m surprised that he doesn’t have any tattoos below his waist.

Not sure what I was expecting, maybe some giant anaconda that wound up his leg and ended at the beast he carries at his crotch.

“Like what you see?” he smirks before he palms himself. “It’d be bigger if it wasn’t so fucking cold in here.”

With a chuckle, he turns and drops a knee onto the floor to work on building the fire.

“Don’t burn yourself, I’d have to kiss it.” I fist the quilt and pull it tighter under my chin.

“That’d be worth it.” He winks at me over his shoulder before piling in some kindling.

Watching the muscles in his back flex and move is better than any movie.

I think that’s the part I’m growing to love about this cabin, there’s no distractions. I can just focus on him.

And me.

Even after surviving hell, I can’t remember feeling this, well, complete.

Like a piece was missing that I never knew, and now I have it.

Him.

His tousled dark hair falls over his eyes as he leans in to purse his lips and lightly blow on the small flame until it catches.

I know what he means when he says he’s addicted. I feel it too. It’s a constant urge to touch him, and I don’t ever want to deny it.

Braving the chill in the room, I let an arm escape to trace up his spine.

His head bows and his eyes close as he tilts into my touch.

“Can I ask you a favor?” I didn’t intend the tremor in my voice.

“Don’t ask. Just tell me when and where I need to be.” He grasps my palm and turns a quick kiss into it.

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