Page 40 of Wyatt & Weston
Her eyes snap up to mine in surprise but relax when she see’s it's me. “No, go ahead. A girl has to clean up somehow, right?” She smiles.
“Right.” I nod, hesitating a moment. “Hey, so not to be like a fucking creep or anything, but I couldn’t help noticing, what’s with the MW on your mound, is that like a brand on your pussy?”
Sophia looks up, cheeks red as her eyes meet mine with a mix of pride and something else—perhaps vulnerability. “It’s a symbol of belonging,” she explains, her voice steady. “It means I’m Marshall’s, marked as his woman. He branded me himself one night while he fucked me like the animal he can be.” She laughs, smiling “Honestly, it was one of the hottest things ever.”
Wow. That’s… intense.I nod, my thoughts swirling. The brand, so simple and yet so significant, makes me think of what it represents—commitment, protectiveness, and a deep, undeniable connection. It’s something that would be seen as barbaric in my society, but somehow, it works with this family. As Sophia wraps herself in a towel and heads back toward the camp, I stand there for a moment, lost in thought.
The idea of being so desired, so cherished that someone would want to mark me as theirs forever, strikes a nerve within me.
It’s not just about the brand itself, but the profound sense of belonging and love it symbolizes. I think about the superficiality of diamonds and how they often fail to convey the depth of feeling they’re meant to represent. What I wouldn’t give to have someone—or even two someones—who wanted me so intensely, so completely, that they were willing to make a permanent mark on me, not with a piece of jewelry but with a symbol of true, lasting commitment.
I step out of the shower, the cool morning air hitting my damp skin. The makeshift setup is simple—an old tree branch with a small, canvas shower bag hanging from it—but it works well enough. I grab the small towel hanging nearby and start drying myself off, the rough fabric scratching against my skin. It feels good to be clean, even if I’m still a bit sore from yesterday.
I slip into my new clothes—a pair of faded jeans and a light, plaid shirt. The clothes are comfortable and practical, perfect for another day on the trail. I tie my hair back into a loose ponytail, trying to tame the wild strands that have escaped from the band.
Feeling refreshed, I head toward the campfire, where Bo and Marshall are busy preparing breakfast. The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, making my stomach growl in anticipation.
Bo is manning the skillet, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, while Marshall tends to a pot of coffee bubbling away on the edge of the fire. Their movements are smooth and coordinated, a testament to years of camping and cooking together.
“Morning, Emma,” Bo calls as I approach. His face lights up with a friendly smile. “Grab a seat. We’re just about ready to serve up some grub.”
“Good morning, Bo,” I reply, sitting down on a log.
Marshall pours a steaming mug of coffee and hands it to me, the warmth of the cup radiating through my fingers.
“Morning, Emma. Sleep well?” he asks, raising a brow and the smile on his face lets me know there’s a good chance he knows what happened in that tent last night. “You ready for the ride back?”
A blush spreads across my cheeks and I avoid eye contact as I take a sip of the coffee, savoring the rich, bold flavor. “Yeah, I’m ready. Yesterday was incredible, but I’m looking forward to getting back to my cabin and a real bed.”
Marshall chuckles. “I’m sure sleeping on the ground isn’t as comfortable. Sophia just uses me as a bed.” He winks. Yup, he knows. God, did the rest of them hear me too?
As I sip my coffee, more of the crew begins to stir. Carson, the twins, Sophia and Hadley emerge from their tents, looking refreshed and ready for the day. Josie, in her carrier, is already awake and cooing softly. Everyone gathers around the fire, chatting and laughing as they fill their plates with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs.
We all eat and chat, sharing stories from the previous day and making plans for the ride home. Thankfully no one brings up anything to do with the possible noises that came from my tent last night. But the twins keep sending me looks that make it hard to keep the blush off my cheeks. Once everyone is finished, we quickly tear down camp, packing up our gear and making sure nothing is left behind.
The sun hangs low in the sky as we finally make it back to the main house, the familiar sight of the ranch coming into view. My body is tired, but there’s a satisfying ache that accompanies all our hard work. The horses, as if sensing the end of our journey, seem to walk with a little more purpose toward the barn, eager to be unsaddled and given their well-deserved rest.
I dismount Daisy with a sigh of relief and immediately start loosening the saddle.
“Weston, can you give me a hand with the gear?” Carson asks. I look up to see him and Bo organizing the various items we’d used over the past two days.
“Sure thing!” he calls back.
Weston flashes me a grin, that makes my heart skip a beat. “Glad to see you’re still standing after all that riding,” he says, lifting two saddles with ease.
“I’m not sure if my legs agree with you.” I laugh, rolling my shoulders to loosen them up.
“We’ll need to make sure everything’s in tip-top shape for when we move the herd back down. Weston, could you grab the tents?” Carson points to the pile of tents and I shake my head and start to drag the saddle off of Daisy.
Wyatt appears, looking particularly handsome in his dusty jeans and worn ballcap. He grabs the saddle and easily throws it on his shoulder. “I got you, Hellcat,” he says, his voice low and confident.
“Thanks,” I reply,following him further into the barn where the smell of hay and leather fills the air.
He sets the saddle on a rack and his gaze locks on me like a predator hunting its prey. I’m pressed against the wall of the barn as he crowds me and I look up at him, licking my lips.
“Just the two of us,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire.
His lips meet mine in a kiss that’s both tender and urgent. My heart skips a beat as I melt into his embrace, our kiss deepening. My hands find their way to his hair, pulling him closer.
