Page 111 of My Cowboy Trouble
"This doesn't fix anything," she whispers against my lips.
"I know."
"This doesn't mean I forgive you."
"I know."
But she kisses me anyway, fierce and hungry. Like she's been wanting this connection, this proof that what we had was more than just entertainment and a stupid fucking bet.
I back heragainst the fence post, the one with our initials, and she lets me. Her hands are already working at my shirt buttons, and there's an urgency in her touch, a need to get closer.
"Here?" she asks, glancing around at the open pasture.
"No one comes out here. It's just us."
"Just us," she repeats, like she's testing the words.
I lift her onto the fence rail, settling between her thighs. Everything about her drives me crazy—the way she fits against me, the little sounds she makes when I touch her, the way she looks at me.
"Missed this," I admit against her throat. "Missed you."
"It's been one day."
"It was a long fucking day."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You're ridiculous."
"Yeah, I am. So what?"
My hands map familiar territory, finding the curve of her waist, the softness of her skin where her tank top has ridden up. She makes those sounds that drive me crazy, breathy sighs and quiet moans that go straight to my cock.
"Damn," I murmur against her collarbone.
"Yeah."
We're clumsy in our urgency, all hands and heat anda need to reconnect. Her jeans hit the ground, followed by my belt, my pants, and everything else that's keeping us apart. When I enter her, she gasps, her head falling back. It's awkward, and hot as fuck.
"God, Asher," she breathes
"Kenzie."
We move together like we were never apart, like the past day was just a bad dream. Her body knows mine, responds to mine, and I know exactly how to touch her to make her come apart in my arms.
"That's it," I murmur when she starts to tighten around me. "Go for it baby."
When she comes, her body clenching around mine, I follow her over the edge and come hard myself, hard as I can ever remember coming. We collapse together afterward, breathing hard, hearts racing, and for a moment, it's like none of the ugliness of yesterday ever happened.
"That was—" she starts.
"Good."
"I was going to say complicated."
"That too."
She curls into me, her head on my chest, and I can feel some of the tension leaving her body. Not all of it, there's still too much to work through for that, but enough that she's not holding herself apart from me anymore.
"This doesn't fix everything," she says quietly.
